A Quiet Day

[cabbitzilla]

It's a quiet day here, a silence broken intermittently by the furnace, with the click of my keyboard and the munching guinea pigs only seeming to add a counterpoint to the silence. While Megan was still with me I would do anything, ANYTHING, to fill the silence; it was a functional deterrent to her interruptions and proto-arguments. Nowadays I don't find the silence as threatening and will permit it if it seems appropriate. I find that it keeps the clutter in my head down to a manageable level if there's music running, providing a unification of sorts to the chatter. At the moment? Most of the chatter is running in one very definite arena: my health (or comparative lack thereof).

For those that missed the Wanted! poster, let me provide some back story:

• 41 years old
• Fibromyalgia patient, currently untreated (a situation that will likely resolve itself by the end of January). A -good- day here involves me moving slowly, a lot of pain and a sort of mental fog that blunts my supposed 'brilliance'.
• Stroke survivor, three of them.
• Bi-Polar. Very much so; the mood swings alone send most folks running for the hills. A bad day (in this respect) for me could be hysterics, towering rage, apathy... or a mind-bending blend of all of the above. My meds keep them (mostly) in check.
• Migraines. One of the psychotropics also keeps them (mostly) at bay.
• Permanently disabled. All of the above makes me untenable for the workforce. Between the unpredictable pain levels and the mood issues, a cumulative bad day means spending the day huddled under a blanket and sobbing. It's not a pretty sight, but that's the nuts and bolts of it.
• Pre-op trans. This is likely to be a permanent status, given the factors listed above. I'm not at all happy about that, but again that's just the nuts and bolts of it.
• I don't sleep in the normal sense of the word. I can hit a drouse state, but nothing deeper; the faintest out of place noise or movement brings me back to what passes for alert. It's been weeks since I've had real sleep that amounted to more than an hour, and I'm starting to unravel at the edges.

Now then, everyone should be on the same page. My last visit to a general practitioner was nearly 6 years ago, my last visit to a rheumatologist a bit less than 3. Why so long? Well, there're a couple of reasons: Doctors/Hospitals/Needles terrify me. The GP retired and his replacement didn't want to honor my insurance. The rheumatologist, a Mr Jack Lichtenstein, is a pompous ass (this is my opinion, and your mileage may vary) and I discontinued seeing him after he sacked the CRNP that I'd been seeing at his office over her getting better results out of patients than he did. I've spent the time since actively avoiding medical professionals: every time I see a doc they find something NEW wrong with me. I know that something is going to kill me eventually and I'd rather not know what it is so I don't sit and obsessively worry about it. As several of my near and dear will attest, I'm a world champion worrywart. The only notable exception to this was the series of appointments over getting my right knee rebuilt after the ACL blew.

January 29, I go to see a new GP. It's the same doctor that my sister and her family use, and it's the GP that Crystal uses as well. All of them have given her good reviews, and together with my mom they've finally pestered and worried at me enough that I agreed to go see her. I know my thyroid is seriously out of whack (I distinctly recall being told it was dead), and there're a host of side effects to that that are getting to be a real hassle dealing with. Energy levels, brittle fingernails, hair loss (from my head instead of other areas I'd love to be less hairy in)... all of them can be tied to thyroid disorders. Under a coordinated 'go to the doctor or we'll drag you to one' campaign run by Crystal, Leah and mom I finally caved in and surrendered. So now I get the lovely month and a half wait to stew over it, wondering what else could be wrong with me and being horrified by the maladies my mind is dredging up. Scared is a good word for what I'm feeling on that front, on both health and financial fronts. With only Medicare between me and the doctor bills, I've gotten VERY twitchy about co-pays and 'my financial burden'. Crystal has promised to take up the slack, for which I'm extremely grateful, but the raw numbers still terrify me.

I'm tired. This is the conclusion I arrive at on my 'lucid' days, every last one of them. *sigh* I'm going to go try and take a nap on the sofa. Maybe I'll actually sleep.

Comments

[maggiebowgirl.livejournal.com]

*hugglies much*

[nefariousgrey.livejournal.com]

I sympathize on so many levels on the medical front. I wish the whole health and doctors thing were easier for all of us and, for what it's worth, I hope things get at least moderately easier for you. Somehow. Even if it's just some decent sleep.

[ginkage.livejournal.com]

I love you, darling. I know how it can feel to be poked and prodded into going somewhere you'd rather not go... even if it means your health.

If I could give you a night of perfect, uninterrupted sleep, I would in the space of several heartbeats. You deserve that much.

Here's me crossing my fingers that the doctor visit becomes a turning point to better things.

[lynnnoton.livejournal.com]

*hugs*

[gconnor.livejournal.com]

*hug* Be well. If you don't get on well with the dr., keep looking. You'll find one that can work well with you sooner or later.