Sacré bordel! Holy whorehouse!
The medical saga continues. I saw my most excellent doctor last Tuesday, and it so happens that I was having one of my "bad" days. It turns out that this was a fortuitous encounter, as my bloodwork has returned showing signs of major infection, and the rather generalized aches and pains and fevers that I had been dealing with became more focused. Stress-dose steroids can mask infections, so I had been admonished to keep an eye out for just such an occurence.
Et ainsi de suite... et puis... yadda!
Yesterday, when all of this ought to have been reported and plans made -- my chart was misplaced.
Cough.
So I am out the door with the Fredster -- Bianca is threatening to belt out show tunes; She cannot handle the stress of probable hospitalizations. We are ruling out an infected prosthesis -- one of my three artificial joints.
I am febrile, exhausted, sweating, tachycardic, and in severe pain.
Would I even *consider* presenting to the Emergency Room? No way in hell. So I hope there are no more snafus with charts and telephone calls.
X-rays and a bone scan, although no one is heeding me -- a bone scan is a ridiculous idea that will supply no useful, specific information. I light up like a Christmas tree, just on principle.
Please think a good thought.
Adieu!
The medical saga continues. I saw my most excellent doctor last Tuesday, and it so happens that I was having one of my "bad" days. It turns out that this was a fortuitous encounter, as my bloodwork has returned showing signs of major infection, and the rather generalized aches and pains and fevers that I had been dealing with became more focused. Stress-dose steroids can mask infections, so I had been admonished to keep an eye out for just such an occurence.
Et ainsi de suite... et puis... yadda!
Yesterday, when all of this ought to have been reported and plans made -- my chart was misplaced.
Cough.
So I am out the door with the Fredster -- Bianca is threatening to belt out show tunes; She cannot handle the stress of probable hospitalizations. We are ruling out an infected prosthesis -- one of my three artificial joints.
I am febrile, exhausted, sweating, tachycardic, and in severe pain.
Would I even *consider* presenting to the Emergency Room? No way in hell. So I hope there are no more snafus with charts and telephone calls.
X-rays and a bone scan, although no one is heeding me -- a bone scan is a ridiculous idea that will supply no useful, specific information. I light up like a Christmas tree, just on principle.
Please think a good thought.
Adieu!
Thinking safe and healthy thoughts for you! I hope all is well and you do not have to suffer anymore.
ReplyDeleteThank you, you tough cookie, you! I have visited your blog and read some -- you've a great attitude. If you ever need to vent or just fall apart, I'm here, probably in the same boat! I have to say that I am not dealing particularly well with my CRPS right now. I need to employ my anti-pain arsenal more effectively -- deep-breathing, distraction... So how is your leg doing post-op? They are going to "tap" my shoulder tomorrow, looking for pesky pathogens -- and while I know there are CRPS protocols for procedures like that, I don't know what they are. Fingers crossed, then, that one of the White Coats will actually *know* about it. Mostly, needles are to be avoided -- but we've not that option.
ReplyDeleteHave a great day and thank you for visiting!