The Great Medigasm -Part 2

All the right things…

In part one, I spoke about the medical experiences that have led to clinical PTSD and anxiety about medical appointment, especially when meeting new doctors. I probably expressed how if it all possible, I always take a second adult with me to medical appointments because there will always be more than one of them, but it’s so easy for them to say you hurt something wrong unless you have a witness present. But this time I expressed that I met a new doctor who gave me what I described as as a new term: a medigasm.

Even as I finally finish the last of the labs on the last possible day I can do them before my appointment, after putting them off since March because of fear of going to a lab among the virus, I at least am able to take a little bit of comfort in knowing this is my new doctor, and now I can see him virtually. Finally, a rheumatologist is on my case. With a neurologist. It’s like medical Christmas! Now prayers that nothing happens to the insurance and all of these doctors remain on the same or another plan together. I’m starting to just have anxiety about losing doctors now.

Below are all of things he said that, each on its own was shocking enough to rock my world, but together, left me speechless and wondering if I was about to wake up from a dream. I felt as if someone had told him all the right things to say to make me think I was crazy, or that I was on candid camera. If you’ve experienced all that is the world of a professional patient, you will understand each one of these statements and why they are shocking. Imagine getting them all at once.

1. “I have several patients with your condition.”

What? I have never even met anyone else with my condition. My pulmonologist has one other patient with it. That’s the extent of people I even know exist in the area with this condition. It is diagnosed in 1 out every million people, so many doctors don’t even meet someone with it, and it isn’t in their norms wheelhouse unless they’re done a felllowship at the Cleveland Clinic, where this condition is studied, as my hematologist did. But even the rheumatologists I met had to admit they did not have any patients with this condition. So hearing that this doctor has several, while also hearing very clearly that he understands this disease the way you would imagine doctors understanding medical conditions without having to research them. That alone was enough to shock the conscience.

2. “This is not about my ego, it’s about your health.“

I’m sorry can you repeat that? Louder for the doctors in the back.

3. “I’m an expert in medicine, but I’m not an expert in your body. You are the expert in your body. I need your expertise to be able to do my job.”

OK, now you’re just poking fun at me, aren’t you?! If not. I have a liar of doctors who could use your guidance!

4. “I am never going to treat you like you’re crazy.”

I am not sure that’s entirely medically responsible. If I wasn’t crazy before, I am most definitely crazy now, after dealing with a bunch of doctors who are not you. I am heavily medicated for your protection. You have been warned. But thank you for giving me the opportunity I wish others had given me to try listening.

5. “I get the sense you can hold a lot. I can tell you are in more pain than you are telling me. I have a feeling by the time you get around to asking me a question, it’s way out of the spectrum of what is normal and I need to listen.”

🥺🥺🥺 I have said these words to people, trying to get them to understand my pain tolerance. How did he know? I didn’t tell him. But this has happened repeatedly, to the point that most people who know me enough to know anything about my medical condition have probably heard about this issue. It has been repeated in many settings. The most telling was the one when the kiddo‘s father went after the nurse to explain that my tolerance for pain was much higher than normal people, including his, and that if I am crying, that means something is wrong. Got to give the man credit there. 🙃 He was not wrong.

6. “If you’re telling me something is wrong, I don’t care what the numbers say; it means we need to keep looking to find out what is going on.”

Holy shit. I mean, just holy shit. Excuse my language, but there is no other thing I can say at this point that expresses my shock that this guy would actually pay attention to something if the labs come back showing that I am healthy.

7. “I’m so sorry a doctor treated you that way. What an awkward situation to be in.”

OK I’ve heard that’s weird. I’ve heard a sort of stunned silence because the doctor didn’t know what to say about what would happen to me. I’m sure as a professional, they were wondering in the back of their minds if I did something to provoke it. But this is the first doctor who actually acknowledged comprehending how completely uncomfortable my experience would have made ANY patient. He actually recognized the emotion I would’ve felt in that circumstance.

8. “Thank you for bringing me these records. These will help a lot. They’ve given me a lot of background information to work with.”

He said this while actually looking at the records and making reference to what they said! To be contrasted against the many doctors who say thank you for bringing them records and stuff them into the back of the file, never to be seen again. And he actually understood why they were each significant and why I brought those specific records and not every record I have. This showed me that he understood my disease. That is a rarity in itself.

9. “Oh you came from this doctor? I love him! I work with him all the time. I love working with him.”

One of my dreams is that all of my doctors will communicate with each other the way my late husband’s doctors communicated with his oncologist at meetings to discuss his treatment plan. This doesn’t happen for people who have an autoimmune disease covered by a rheumatologist, who is usually primarily set up to treat arthritis type diseases, and only sometimes deals with other areas like vasculitis. I still don’t understand why there is not a specific position to deal with autoimmune diseases like an oncologist, and we are left to see specialist after specialist and try to get them to communicate with each other, which sometimes leads to inferiority/superiority/insecurity issues and may even cost you a doctor. You would be surprised how many doctors operate like teens or young adults when it comes to inferiority/superiority complexes, and will not hesitate to put something in your medical record out of spite, that will hurt you when subsequent doctors review it. You can tell me this doesn’t happen, but as a retired professional, I know this happens. I would hear about previous attorneys, and I would carefully evaluate the client to try to find out if the other attorney was actually a bad attorney, or if it was a bad client and likely to be a repeat. It’s a valid concern. And a very irresponsible and immature way for a doctor or other professional to respond. It was such a relief for this doctor to understand and acknowledge how Trumatic it was to go through that experience when I was already going through a Trumatic medical experience to begin with.

10. “You’re on this drug? Already? I was one of the first doctors do use that drug when it was released.”

😳 Are you serious!? 😳 It turned out he had been trying to figure out how to get his patience on the auto injector, which my pulmonologist had just gotten me approved for. He was very excited to know there was a way to do it, and was very excited that I was already on that treatment because that would’ve been his recommendation. He knew extensive information about the studies, and from there on, his knowledge surpassed mine. That’s the way I like it.

There were so many wonderful things he said, that I’ve decided to make this into a three part blog. I have written a lot of blogs and posts complaining about doctors, and they have taken a lot of space. But never have I had so many good things to say about a doctor that I ran out of space twice. But this is that time, and I’m willing to give it the time and space it deserves. Because I’ve noticed good doctors have no idea what other doctors treat us like. And we deserve better! So demand it! Wait for it. It took me 3 years. One step at a time!

Stay tuned for “The Great Medigasm! Part 3”!

This New Dance

The ways life has changed aren’t many to some of us. I’m sure you’ve heard it before. “Welcome to our everyday reality.” But nobody is immune from SOME changes and surprise issues.

In the last two days I have discovered one of them. In the past, if I fell and injured myself, I could take medication for it. Not a big deal. However, I wouldn’t have even known I had a fever if my daughter hadn’t also been sick with me this past month. When she got sick, I decided not to take my cough syrup because it has Tylenol and might be masking a fever. I had a nightmare that night that involved not being able to breathe and not being able to get up out of bed. My daughter heard me and almost woke me up thinking I might be having a nightmare but she was worried I would get upset that she woke me up. I will have to explore that. But I did wake up with a fever, higher than hers. And off we went for testing.

We tested negative. I was very grateful. Until my appointment with my pulmonologist, during which he expressed concern that I still have a fever after over a week, and on antibiotics. He said 20% of the negative tests are coming back as false negatives. Fantastic. It seemed he wanted me to go test again, but since I was on antibiotics, he told me to wait until I finished and if I still had a fever, then go and test again. And of course if I have trouble breathing more than usual, straight to his hospital.

I’m wondering if they are treating me as if I am positive, because I’ve never been prescribed azithromycin at the full first day dose, for 21 days. Not a big deal. That’s also something I’m used to. I’ve been through eight rounds of antibiotics to try to get rid of one infection. Taking an extra round or taking them for longer than normal is not that weird.

But 2 evenings ago, I fell. I didn’t trip. I just stood up to walk and my leg didn’t work right. It was like it just folded on top of itself. And I folded on top of it.

I almost broke my leg. My entire leg is very painful, and my knee is aching badly if I put any pressure on it. I’ve got a nice big bruise on the inner side of my leg that I don’t even understand how it landed there, and I’m almost certain I broke my little toe, which is buddy taped to the one next to it, because I would rather give up my toe than go into a hospital or a clinic, especially knowing they probably won’t do anything more than tape it to the other one themselves. So, no way will I take that risk on catching the virus if I don’t have it, or giving it to other people if I do.

But now I have a new conundrum. I have medicine I can take for pain. I’ve been really lucky to not need it as much lately, in part due to prescribed medical marijuana; but after this fall, I certainly need it. Here’s the problem. I’m trying to monitor my fever. The hydrocodone syrup has Tylenol in it. This means I have to wait for it to completely stop working and I’m in full blown pain again to know the Tylenol is no longer affecting me, so I can take my temperature and discover I still have a fever. Every. Damn. Time.

In the grand scheme of things, I know I’m lucky. People are in much worse positions than mine. I pray for them every single day. So I know it’s not that big of a deal. I’m grateful I did not actually break my leg. That would’ve been holy hell at a clinic or an emergency room, with a fever, and only being allowed to be seen by people in what my friend so appropriately described as “space suits.” http://nohalfmeasures.blog/2020/04/01/medical-treatment-during-a-pandemic-part-i/

But it’s annoying. I don’t understand why the fever is not going away. I can’t imagine I have the virus with underlying vasculitis (Churg Strauss Syndrome/EGPA), general hypertension, (sometimes rising to the level of pulmonary hypertension), pre-diabetes, severe allergies, severe asthma with refractory bronchospasms, and constant tachycardia. It seems like I would be the first person to end up in the worst case scenario. This is why I’ve been so proactive from day one when I heard about this becoming an issue. This is why my daughter laughs at the measures I take to keep us safe. This is also why I’m baffled that we were able to get any kind of flu or virus, because however we got it, we could have just as easily contracted COVID-19.

I have confirmed I still have a fever. Fabulous. At least now I can take some medicine to calm down my leg. And go back to sleep. Which is all I’ve done for approximately the last 36 hours. When will this get better? I know it’s not going to end. But it has to get better eventually. Right?