I'm too old. I feel 75, but I'm not. I understand now a little better when my mom used to bitch about getting older. I've been having back problems for a while, and that doesn't help.
I went to my new GP, because I had to dump my old GP who didn't notice that my dad was yellow. And, who never ever x-rayed a man's lungs who had smoked for over 20 years. But anyway, my GP didn't want to help me. The new one. I had to whine and cajole the nurse over the phone. Then I had flashbacks to a bad relationship. It was ugly.
She didn't want me to make any new appointments, and didn't want to touch me except to prod my kidneys a little. Oh, and the nurse came at me with no warning and rubbed this thing all over my face to take my temperature. When did that become common? So, over the course of two months, I have had the following: x-rays, CT, sonogram (which would have been an internal sonogram if I hadn't refused because of lack of prior bloody notice), HIDA scan and cursory physical exam.
Frustrated and thinking bone problems or cancer, I made an appointment with a rheumatologist. First, it took them half an hour to see me. Frakking doctors. Then, he spent the whole time staring at the computer instead of talking TO me. Then he wanted a urine sample. Fine, I can do that. But it's harder when the toilet paper dispenser has no paper on it and the refills are across the room. So I threw stuff.
When I told the nurse about the toilet paper, she laughed. I was NOT yet far enough from the event to find it funny. The doctor told the computer that I needed a physical exam, and that I needed to take my clothes off, so the nurse handed me that stupid paper garment duo. You know, like at the gyno, the giant shirt with no fasteners and a big old textured napkin for the bottom part. At least it wasn't pink.
Right there I vowed to never put on another paper gown. I probably should have told the doctor that, instead of crying like a little girl. But, before you get all sad for me, you should know that he didn't push it, he let me keep my jeans on and actually physically examined me. For a physical problem.
Turns out I don't have cancer or bone problems, it's muscular. Yay, so relieved. We're still trying to isolate the cause, but I'm going to physical therapy and that's helping a lot. And I'm taking a muscle relaxer at night which puts me OUT for five hours or so.
I just fell asleep writing this post, if that tells you anything. Going to bed now.
Frustrated and thinking bone problems or cancer, I made an appointment with a rheumatologist. First, it took them half an hour to see me. Frakking doctors. Then, he spent the whole time staring at the computer instead of talking TO me. Then he wanted a urine sample. Fine, I can do that. But it's harder when the toilet paper dispenser has no paper on it and the refills are across the room. So I threw stuff.
When I told the nurse about the toilet paper, she laughed. I was NOT yet far enough from the event to find it funny. The doctor told the computer that I needed a physical exam, and that I needed to take my clothes off, so the nurse handed me that stupid paper garment duo. You know, like at the gyno, the giant shirt with no fasteners and a big old textured napkin for the bottom part. At least it wasn't pink.
Right there I vowed to never put on another paper gown. I probably should have told the doctor that, instead of crying like a little girl. But, before you get all sad for me, you should know that he didn't push it, he let me keep my jeans on and actually physically examined me. For a physical problem.
Turns out I don't have cancer or bone problems, it's muscular. Yay, so relieved. We're still trying to isolate the cause, but I'm going to physical therapy and that's helping a lot. And I'm taking a muscle relaxer at night which puts me OUT for five hours or so.
I just fell asleep writing this post, if that tells you anything. Going to bed now.
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