We returned from the Smokies sometime Monday afternoon and dare I say, we had... fun? I think my grandparents eventually warmed up to the idea of spending Easter outside their comfort zones (read "out of the house") and everyone got to go off and do separate touristy things, so it wasn't too bad really. My biggest irritation actually had nothing to do with my family - it was my health.
For the past few months, I've felt horribly nauseous and headachy immediately after reading or using the computer. Initially I thought I was just taxing my eyes, but then it started to happen with no rhyme or reason. Then about a week or so ago, I started to get horrible dizzy spells that would just last forever and come on out of nowhere. The scariest one was a few days before we were leaving for the Smokies. We were cleaning out our filing cabinet and organizing the dogs' immunization records before they were to be boarded. I was standing behind J. while he pulled their files from the cabinet and handed them to me. He handed me one file and I turned just slightly to lay it in a chair and open it. Immediately I felt what I can only describe as an explosion of electricity in the left side of my head, then I was immediately so dizzy I crashed and sat down hard on the floor. At the same time all these dizzy spells would occur, I would feel this intense pressure behind my right eye and my vision would suddenly blur. Now, I've always had better than perfect vision, so to suddenly not be able to see ten feet away without straining was alarming to me. As we were driving around Pigeon Forge on Friday night, I was having a real issue with the dizziness and my eyes seemed incredibly sensitive to lights. On Saturday, as we were driving into the mountains and I couldn't stop spinning long enough to take a photo, we determined it was time to set up a doctor's appointment.
This is where things start to get sucky. For the past four years, I've had the most amazing doctor. After a three-year-long search, she was the first doctor to properly diagnose me with hypothyroidism instead of just throwing anti-depressants at me. She was also the first doctor to help me through my insane diagnoses of Adult Onset Asthma and called me personally when I was bedridden for a month just to see if I needed anything. When I was uninsured, she always made a point to prescribe the cheapest medication possible, but only after she had dug through her entire supply of free samples first. She could take one look at me and see illnesses I wasn't even aware I had. She spent time with me and made sure I wasn't just a treated patient, but a healthy and happy person. We loved Dr. S.
Unfortunately, Dr. S. suddenly resigned last summer. We were told by some of her staff that it was because the practice she worked for didn't like how she was "spending so much time with the patients" and pressured her often about it. I love today's health care model, don't you? Quantity over quality, kids, that's the way! Ahem.
Sadly, this left me without a doctor or a referral. I had to do something I absolutely HATE doing - pick a doctor out of a phone book. Sure, I tried to do research online, I hunted desperately for reviews, I sent my medical records to three different doctors that wouldn't even return my phone calls. Nothing. On a whim, I called a practice that was closer to my house and asked if they had any female doctors that were taking new patients. Enter Dr. C.
It wasn't until about the 2nd visit I realized that Dr. C, as cordial and polite as she was, really didn't have a damn idea what was wrong with me, nor did she really seem to care. I discovered that she was actually a 3rd year intern with a caseload of about 4 patients total, not including the 100 or so patients she was attending to in the hospital while doing rounds and preparing for her boards. How she was qualified to be my Primary Care Provider is beyond me. On my first visit, she actually said, "I'm kind of bored here, so feel free to call me anytime." Initially, that gave me reassurance, but now I'm realizing that wasn't quite so great. Every time that I've seen her and told her my symptoms and the fact that I don't feel great, she consistently tells me my symptoms are "not that bad" and that my Synthroid is just a "little baby dose." Even when I went through the anxiety of having my blood drawn for further testing (and consequently passed out in her office), I received only a phone call from an office assistant that sounded all of fourteen. That went a little something like this:
"Hi, is Staz there?"
"Yes, this is she."
"Hi, this is, um.. Jenny from um.. New Office?"
"Yes."
"We got your test results and um... everything's fine."
"Okay. Everything's fine. What exactly does that mean?"
"Um, it just means that everything's normal."
"Riiight, but does that mean my iron levels are normal or that my TSH levels are normal?"
"Um, yeah. Your bloodwork."
"Soooo I should stay on the same dosage of my medication then?"
"Um... *shuffles papers*... Sure."
You see what I'm dealing with here, boys and girls. Not once did Dr. C. herself actually call me to explain anything, nor did she try to arrange another appointment to discuss other reasons for my horrible fatigue and weird symptoms. So when we called to schedule an appointment about my dizzy spells, we were informed that "Dr. C. is at the hospital making rounds all week." So now here I am again, stuck without a real doctor.
Watching my health become so erratic like this has J. worried to death. He wants to take me to the ER. I just want a damned doctor that knows her shit and will listen to me. Is that too much to ask? I need to see a doctor, but I don't want to waste the time and co-pay if I'm just going to be told that "I'm fine" and to "stay on my baby dose." This is so damn frustrating. I'm sick, but I'm finally insured and yet still, I feel screwed. Just what exactly am I supposed to do here? Transfer my medical records again? I don't want to be labeled a difficult patient or set off any risk alarms, but I do want a doctor that will listen to me. I don't want to keep playing musical doctors, but I'm tired of being shuffled around like a musical patient. I'm just tired of feeling sick and exhausted all the damn time and wish I knew what to do.
Certainly I could think of a few things more awesome than this per se, but still, having it done, getting through it (even with the help of sedatives) and mostly having J. hold me while constantly looking me in the eye and saying repeatedly, "I love you, I'm so proud of you, kiss me, you're doing it, you're amazing"... well, all that stuff? Pretty much supports the notion that I rock.