Thursday, April 22, 2010

Revolving Door of Specialists

By now Dr. Facade didn't know what was wrong with me, besides that I was depressed of course. So she began sending me to specialists.

We knew my heart was fine, 4 cardiologists had confirmed this.

So off I went to a vascular specialist. This appointment is a story of it's own. Lets recap: I show up for my 8:30 AM appointment to find I am locked out of a closed office. No kidding, lights are out, doors locked, nobody home. I wait. Finally I'm let in, do paperwork, and get taken back - an hour after my scheduled appointment. Talk over my history with a nurse who looks like she'd rather be anywhere but talking with me, mandatory ultrasound of both legs, and wait for the doctor. Oh, did I mention HE'S NOT EVEN AT THE OFFICE YET? Yea, nice. After he finally showed, I quickly realized I would have had more luck just staying in bed. He said that my problems were due to my birth control pills... the same ones I've been on for years and never had problems with before. To prove his point, and maybe entertain himself from his boring job he obviously hates, he took out his iPhone and looked up this Rx. "Man this is cool" he says (no joke) "I can see here, on my iPhone, that these pills can rarely cause some edema". Thanks so much, doc, but that doesn't cover everything. Oh wait, you don't care. And I have to pay this jackass?

Next I see an endocronologist. One of my blood labs had shown elevated cortisol levels. Dr. Facade thought this might be a sign of Cushing's Disease and that I needed further evaluation. So on Christmas Eve, Steve and I go to Dr. Innuendo. He walks into the exam room, looks at me, says he never received my file from my primary care, and that he will see me in 6 weeks. NO! I'm not spending my Christmas Eve here for nothing. So I tell him my story. He says, and I can't make this up even if I wanted to, "you have narcolepsy". Huh? What about the cortisol levels? What about all my other symptoms BESIDES being fatigued? Again I can't make this up, "you need to eat 20 inches of banana a day". I couldn't not laugh. Even though this doctor did not give me anything medically useful, he at least gave me and my family a very funny saying to use during the holidays.

Since Dr. Innuendo wasn't much help, I had to see a second endo, Dr. Idontspeakenglish. She comes into the exam room, takes one look at me and says "you don't have Cushing's, you have Hashimotos". Not only could I barely understand you, but you're wrong. My thyroid levels by this point have been checked like 7 times, they are fine. Of course she wants to check them herself - sure it's only my medical insurance paying for the same tests over and over. 10 viles of blood later, I wait again for results. Normal.

So after being tested for lupus, cushing's disease, ovarian cysts, tumors, cancer, thyroid dysfunctions, heart conditions, kidney failure, liver failure, narcolepsy, depression, fibromialgia, auto immune disorders... I still was going downhill and no closer to a proper diagnosis.

Because my abdominal pain was so intense, and I was having diarrhea and constipation, I was sent to a gastroenterologist, Dr. Poop. She was very nice and lovely, but how much can you like someone when every time you see them they stick something up your butt? I was there to discuss the possibility of Celiac Disease. Dr. Poop agreed that I needed an upper endoscopy (a tube with camera down your throat) and due to the pain in my abdomen I also needed a colonoscopy (tube with camera up your butt). Great. So I schedule my "procedures" and get my "prep" instructions for the colonoscopy. The prep instructions include drinking an entire bottle of Miralax and staying on the toilet for 24 hours straight. I've never felt so sick in my life. The actual procedures were great. I was wheeled into a room, given an IV, and I was out. I woke up in a recovery room with Steve next to me and then slept the rest of the day. Nothing was found, no Celiac Disease, no tumors, no polyps, no nothing. What Steve found was a camera.


{in recovery after the procedures}

After seeing who knows how many doctors, going through who knows how many tests, being poked and prodded, I still hadn't moved out of square one.

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