not dead
though not for lack of trying on the part of a specific doctor...
ok. this is fairly long, but here's what happened from the beginning [so far as i *know*, this is the beginning]
i woke up December 6th and my right leg wouldn't completely straighten. the top of the calf muscle refused to relax. other than it not straightening, though, everything seemed cool. i was able to get to LARP that sunday, though it took a LOT of help from Pete to get me up the stairs. [and then i threw up a LOT at LARP. that may or may not be related to THIS. sigh]
and i kept waiting for my leg to stop being weird. it didn't happen - in fact, the leg kept getting worse. the muscle that was "flexed" was growing daily, while i was also losing range-of-motion.
on the 19th, i gave up on spontaneous remission and called my family doctor.
family doctor fired [she got on the phone saying, essentially, "you have fibromalgia and are remarkably dramatic about things. don't waste my time" i said something like "are you fucking kidding? i have YET to make an appointment with you that didn't turn out to be REAL and IMPORTANT and i'm REALLY sorry that i'm not as cool as your other patients who are NEVER sick or needng care... but you're fired. byebye"
i was pissed for days. i didn't go to Giftmas dinner with my family. my dad well and truly fucked up that night, too. and i didn't go to the ER because you DO NOT go to the ER from Dec 20th until Jan 5th if you can do ANYTHING else.
i did the whole "anything at ALL is better than an ER during That Time."
but i hadn't been ABLE to leave the apt for weeks. the last week was the worst - it had started hurting back when i tried to make a appointment; worse, i was no longer able to put ANY weight on my right leg [i'd been getting by with weird limping/tip-toeing, since my leg wouldn't straighten. i started crutches on the 19th. couldn't leave the appt the next day]
not sure exactly when, but the 21st or 22nd, i started throwing up when i tried to get up. i started limiting my trips to the bathroom to 2 a day, because between the pain and he throwing up, ALL I hear about is that". but it's worse, and getting more worse. and on New Year's Eve, Pete freaked a bit when i all-but-fainted...
so i PROMISED i'd go to ER as soon as it wasn't a holiday anymore. and i MEANT that i'd go in, but on like the 5th. ha! he made me go on the 2nd.
we called for an ambulance [i can't WALK, can't climb stairs. etc] thankfully, one of the ambulance guys was a repeat from October [the only other time i've called for an ambulance for me :) ] and he remembered that it was essentially impossible to get a gurney into the apt. on Oct., what they did was take it as far down the stairs as possible than had be climb the side.
wasn't going to happen this time.
ambulance guys make the following plan: wheelchair me to stairs, two of them carry me up stairs, put me on gurny.
they got me into wheelchair. then i started throwing up. so they got me to couch, Pete helped me change clothing, they called for a fire squad, and i had 6 guys carry my out on a piece of canvas.
how do i get BACK?! not yet...
so...
my leg won't flex OR UNflex. my hemoglobin is 6 [supposed to be 12] i don't even KNOW what all else is going on - i'm admitted technically on the 3rd [at like 2 am]. i don't ask many questions on that day or the next, just trying to survive. pain is 9+.
tuesday night/wenesday morning at 3am, my blood pressure takes a nosedive. i'm injected with something that makes me think i'm an alien in cryo running a ship that's 27 light-years away... then it's over and i ask what happen and they tell me.
next day, doctors are weird. and hostile. was i doing anything besides what they gave me? they couldn't find anything in my bloodwork to explain what was going on - ignoring the 2 units of blood i was given Tuesday, and the hemoglobin that was low, and the fucking being-on-prednizone for 14 hours so that they could get a CT scan WITH contrast die [allergic to iodine]
over the course of wenesday, it seems i became some desperate criminal who is incredibly stupid and arrogant...
Wens night/Thursday morning at 3am, my blood pressure did it again.
now, the night before, i'd had NOT meds within 4 hours of my BP bottoming. what i think caused it that night was being pushed around the floor in a wheelchair for an hour [i barely remember it - being verticle was still a BAD thing]
THIS night, i took HALF a dose of my muscle relaxants at 1 am. also, earlier in the day [after 12 fucking HOURS of fighting]my fentynyl patch FINALLY got changed.
here's the skinny on the patches: i'm SUPPOSED to be wearing TWO patches - a 100 mcg and a 50 mcg. but Caresource decided that it was going to only pay for the 100's, so as of December 21st [when i got the latest patches] i'm wearing 100.
and one of the doctors tried to change my dose to 50. i don't fucking know why. but i was supposed to get my patch Wensday morning at 10am - and i didn't get it until 9:30 pm, because this jackass doctor kept trying to force me to wear a patch at HALF fucking strength, to which i replied "look, you guys are only giving me my maintaince of oxycodone - and my pain is HUGELY higher than normal, i can't AFFORD to take a half-fucking dose"
anyway, so my BP bottoms again wens night/thurs morning, and that asshole doctor comes in and tries to tell me that OBVIOUSLY ir bottomed because of the patch - ignoring the fact that i wore a 100mcg patch patch until i got the NEW one [also 100, thank GODS] and that i didn't randomly bottom at any OTHER time, which you'd expect if it were being caused by the patch. which it fucking isn't.
later thursday morning, one of the other doctors came in, and said essentially "we don't know what's going on with your blood pressure. we aren't finding anything in the blood tests, but it's POSSIBLE that you're taking your meds on top of what we're giving you. can we search your things, just so that we can say we covered every base?" and i said sure, whatever - i wasn't doing any "extra" meds or anything, and it was just a formality.
they obviously found nothing.
later that day, Pete came by. and the nurse came in and said "the doctors don't want you having visitors until they figure out what's going on" and i was all like "WTF?!" and the nurse is all "well they seem to think that your boyfriend is smuggling you drugs. so to "prove" that it's happening, or that it's not, you aren't allowed visitors"
and i lost it.
becuase that? NOT LEGAL. unlawful imprisonment, to start with. i threw a GIANT tantrum, and let EVERYONE know that i was going to deal with this for ONE night, but if it wasn't fixed by noon friday i was A) going to a different hospital and then B) suing this one.
at the SAME TIME as this one doctor is persecuting me because i'm some sort of desperate drug addict who i don't even fucking know, the neurologists [i ADORE the neurologist team i got] show up and think they know what's going on.
except if they're RIGHT, then i'm NOT a criminal-drug-addict! and that one doctor can't have that! so the neurologists want a biopsy of my leg, the request was put in technically on wens, but the one doctor delayed it a bit, so it was *officially* filed thurs... and delayed everything to the point where i didn't get the fucking biopsy until tuesday.
i can't leave until there are RESULTS [i mean, fuck! how do i get from car to front door of apt? how do i get down the stairs!? it won't work...]
neurologists think that there won't be any results from biopsy until monday - except monday is MLK day.
oh, and my pain is a 9.5 and i'm NOT being treated well enough, and neurology was going to push for a pain consult, and dear gods i fucking NEED this fucking pain to be under some fucking control for SOME period of time worth living thru... i can't survive much more of the almost-10-pain...
ok. this is fairly long, but here's what happened from the beginning [so far as i *know*, this is the beginning]
i woke up December 6th and my right leg wouldn't completely straighten. the top of the calf muscle refused to relax. other than it not straightening, though, everything seemed cool. i was able to get to LARP that sunday, though it took a LOT of help from Pete to get me up the stairs. [and then i threw up a LOT at LARP. that may or may not be related to THIS. sigh]
and i kept waiting for my leg to stop being weird. it didn't happen - in fact, the leg kept getting worse. the muscle that was "flexed" was growing daily, while i was also losing range-of-motion.
on the 19th, i gave up on spontaneous remission and called my family doctor.
family doctor fired [she got on the phone saying, essentially, "you have fibromalgia and are remarkably dramatic about things. don't waste my time" i said something like "are you fucking kidding? i have YET to make an appointment with you that didn't turn out to be REAL and IMPORTANT and i'm REALLY sorry that i'm not as cool as your other patients who are NEVER sick or needng care... but you're fired. byebye"
i was pissed for days. i didn't go to Giftmas dinner with my family. my dad well and truly fucked up that night, too. and i didn't go to the ER because you DO NOT go to the ER from Dec 20th until Jan 5th if you can do ANYTHING else.
i did the whole "anything at ALL is better than an ER during That Time."
but i hadn't been ABLE to leave the apt for weeks. the last week was the worst - it had started hurting back when i tried to make a appointment; worse, i was no longer able to put ANY weight on my right leg [i'd been getting by with weird limping/tip-toeing, since my leg wouldn't straighten. i started crutches on the 19th. couldn't leave the appt the next day]
not sure exactly when, but the 21st or 22nd, i started throwing up when i tried to get up. i started limiting my trips to the bathroom to 2 a day, because between the pain and he throwing up, ALL I hear about is that". but it's worse, and getting more worse. and on New Year's Eve, Pete freaked a bit when i all-but-fainted...
so i PROMISED i'd go to ER as soon as it wasn't a holiday anymore. and i MEANT that i'd go in, but on like the 5th. ha! he made me go on the 2nd.
we called for an ambulance [i can't WALK, can't climb stairs. etc] thankfully, one of the ambulance guys was a repeat from October [the only other time i've called for an ambulance for me :) ] and he remembered that it was essentially impossible to get a gurney into the apt. on Oct., what they did was take it as far down the stairs as possible than had be climb the side.
wasn't going to happen this time.
ambulance guys make the following plan: wheelchair me to stairs, two of them carry me up stairs, put me on gurny.
they got me into wheelchair. then i started throwing up. so they got me to couch, Pete helped me change clothing, they called for a fire squad, and i had 6 guys carry my out on a piece of canvas.
how do i get BACK?! not yet...
so...
my leg won't flex OR UNflex. my hemoglobin is 6 [supposed to be 12] i don't even KNOW what all else is going on - i'm admitted technically on the 3rd [at like 2 am]. i don't ask many questions on that day or the next, just trying to survive. pain is 9+.
tuesday night/wenesday morning at 3am, my blood pressure takes a nosedive. i'm injected with something that makes me think i'm an alien in cryo running a ship that's 27 light-years away... then it's over and i ask what happen and they tell me.
next day, doctors are weird. and hostile. was i doing anything besides what they gave me? they couldn't find anything in my bloodwork to explain what was going on - ignoring the 2 units of blood i was given Tuesday, and the hemoglobin that was low, and the fucking being-on-prednizone for 14 hours so that they could get a CT scan WITH contrast die [allergic to iodine]
over the course of wenesday, it seems i became some desperate criminal who is incredibly stupid and arrogant...
Wens night/Thursday morning at 3am, my blood pressure did it again.
now, the night before, i'd had NOT meds within 4 hours of my BP bottoming. what i think caused it that night was being pushed around the floor in a wheelchair for an hour [i barely remember it - being verticle was still a BAD thing]
THIS night, i took HALF a dose of my muscle relaxants at 1 am. also, earlier in the day [after 12 fucking HOURS of fighting]my fentynyl patch FINALLY got changed.
here's the skinny on the patches: i'm SUPPOSED to be wearing TWO patches - a 100 mcg and a 50 mcg. but Caresource decided that it was going to only pay for the 100's, so as of December 21st [when i got the latest patches] i'm wearing 100.
and one of the doctors tried to change my dose to 50. i don't fucking know why. but i was supposed to get my patch Wensday morning at 10am - and i didn't get it until 9:30 pm, because this jackass doctor kept trying to force me to wear a patch at HALF fucking strength, to which i replied "look, you guys are only giving me my maintaince of oxycodone - and my pain is HUGELY higher than normal, i can't AFFORD to take a half-fucking dose"
anyway, so my BP bottoms again wens night/thurs morning, and that asshole doctor comes in and tries to tell me that OBVIOUSLY ir bottomed because of the patch - ignoring the fact that i wore a 100mcg patch patch until i got the NEW one [also 100, thank GODS] and that i didn't randomly bottom at any OTHER time, which you'd expect if it were being caused by the patch. which it fucking isn't.
later thursday morning, one of the other doctors came in, and said essentially "we don't know what's going on with your blood pressure. we aren't finding anything in the blood tests, but it's POSSIBLE that you're taking your meds on top of what we're giving you. can we search your things, just so that we can say we covered every base?" and i said sure, whatever - i wasn't doing any "extra" meds or anything, and it was just a formality.
they obviously found nothing.
later that day, Pete came by. and the nurse came in and said "the doctors don't want you having visitors until they figure out what's going on" and i was all like "WTF?!" and the nurse is all "well they seem to think that your boyfriend is smuggling you drugs. so to "prove" that it's happening, or that it's not, you aren't allowed visitors"
and i lost it.
becuase that? NOT LEGAL. unlawful imprisonment, to start with. i threw a GIANT tantrum, and let EVERYONE know that i was going to deal with this for ONE night, but if it wasn't fixed by noon friday i was A) going to a different hospital and then B) suing this one.
at the SAME TIME as this one doctor is persecuting me because i'm some sort of desperate drug addict who i don't even fucking know, the neurologists [i ADORE the neurologist team i got] show up and think they know what's going on.
except if they're RIGHT, then i'm NOT a criminal-drug-addict! and that one doctor can't have that! so the neurologists want a biopsy of my leg, the request was put in technically on wens, but the one doctor delayed it a bit, so it was *officially* filed thurs... and delayed everything to the point where i didn't get the fucking biopsy until tuesday.
i can't leave until there are RESULTS [i mean, fuck! how do i get from car to front door of apt? how do i get down the stairs!? it won't work...]
neurologists think that there won't be any results from biopsy until monday - except monday is MLK day.
oh, and my pain is a 9.5 and i'm NOT being treated well enough, and neurology was going to push for a pain consult, and dear gods i fucking NEED this fucking pain to be under some fucking control for SOME period of time worth living thru... i can't survive much more of the almost-10-pain...