Saturday, I crocheted a really cute little baby sweater, as well as some cute little star-shaped wash cloths. I also finished my pillow case, which had started out as a baby blanket, in a nice gender-neutral yellow. I decided on turning it into a pillow case after I learned that my friend is having a boy, so I get to use fun, bright boy colors.
Sunday consisted of hubby and I taking our time waking up and showering, then we went out with his best friend to the zoo, and walked around for about 5 hours. I took my cane, and used it 95% of the time, the other 5% was spent resting my cane hand. Amazingly, the only problems I encountered were my left hip stabilizer muscle, and my right knee and calf hurting pretty badly today, and my right hand feeling like it was going to blister from my cane.
I think all of my left hip dislocations (coming up on 400 of them this year alone) have finally prompted my left hip to grow more stabilizer muscles; both to keep it from dislocating, and to keep me standing. Aside from the pain involved in growing new muscles, it seems to be working properly for a change. Instead of the full blown dislocation, ending with me sprawled across the floor, it's just a sublux, which makes me walk like I'm drunk.
After the zoo, we went out for dinner, then went to a movie. Hubby and I have been feeling pretty isolated (cabin fever anyone?), with neither of us having the energy to go out, so we planned a trip to the zoo, for the second weekend in a row, and actually made it out yesterday. It's so nice to get out, and have fun, and not just be surviving the day-to-day necessities for a change.
It's amazing how much a little fresh air will do for the body!
Oh, and more on the plus side of things, I can apparently eat junk food, and not have a really bad tummy ache afterwards. Weird what my body is doing to me. Ice Cream? Fine. Chips with melty cheese and salsa? Fine. Cooked vegetables? OMG NOOOO!!! Raw vegetables? Are you trying to KILL me?
I had an appointment with MY doctor on Tuesday to see if I could convince him to send me for a Barium Swallow. Shortly after leaving work, I got stuck at a really busy intersection, so I checked my mirrors, and did a shoulder check - no traffic in the other lane as far as the eye can see (which is about 2 blocks), and I started to change lanes. That's when it hit me - literally - "it" being a Subaru Impreza. So we pull over, and exchange insurance info, with her yelling at me for a while, and we check out the damage to our respective cars, my rear passenger door is pretty dented, and she has a couple little scrapes on her front bumper. No injuries, so we continue on our way.
I arrive at my doctor's appointment precisely on time, put $2 in the parking meter, only to find out that it's broken, and head into the office anyway. Twenty minutes later, the doctor walks in, and we sit down, and go over a small percentage of my symptoms, and with no warning he reaches over, lifts up my shirt, and pokes me in the gut. Exactly where it hurts. He does it a few more times for good measure, and tells me "it's gastritis" and starts to write a prescription for pills to lower the production of acid. At this point I tell him that I think it might be gastroparesis, and that I'd like to be sent for a barium swallow to either diagnose it or rule it out.
He went crazy at this point, telling me that HE is the doctor, and that I had no reason to doubt his diagnosis, and that "That's the problem with you Canadians, you always want to have so many unnecessary tests done." Cue the tears. Mine. Then he starts telling me to calm down, and that crying isn't going to get me anywhere, at which point I tell him that I'm not crying to get anything, I'm crying because he's yelling at me, and telling me to calm down "WILL NOT MAKE ME ANY CALMER!!!!" So this is where he yelled at me for yelling at him, and then he wrote me a prescription for a medication which speeds up the stomach-emptying process, and sends me on my way.
I was so angry, and frustrated, because for whatever reason I was unable to articulate that the last time a doctor threw medication at me without a real diagnosis, I ended up in the hospital for three days. During the visit the doctor also told me that I had to eat food, and I'm not allowed to drink Ensure or Boost instead. He didn't give me a reason. He didn't care that eating food is EXTREMELY PAINFUL.
I researched the side effects of the pills he prescribed me, and one of them is "Tardive Dyskinesia" which is a movement disorder, characterised by the patient being extremely sensitive to dopamine. So I'm definitely NOT going to be taking that one, and it looks like my mystery movement disorder might actually be Tardive Dyskinesia. The symptoms fit, the onset fits, the hospitalisation after taking dopamine agonists fits. So there's something else to look into.
Other things going on this week:
My hubby broke a window in our house, because it got caught on something when he was trying to open it.
I had to scare the pants off my roommate to convince her that she really did need to go to the hospital (she did, and she is doing better now).
I've been to the grocery store 3 times this week, each time thinking that I had gotten EVERYTHING on my list... Now that I think about it, I need conditioner... Gotta love brain fog.
My car, with its nice shiny dent, had to go to the mechanic (my power steering COMPLETELY crapped out). The mechanic didn't let me know that we needed to order parts for it until the end of the day, even though he'd known for hours. He didn't give me the necessary information to order those parts until the next day, and I ended up walking home from work on Wednesday, after I told the mechanic he'd have to bring me one of the canes from the back seat of my car. Walking home was an adventure. For the weather conditions (icy, melty, slippery) it should take a healthy person about 10-15 minutes to get from where I work to my house. It took me 50 minutes. When I got home I was in incredible amounts of pain, and it felt like I had dislocated my pelvis. It later turned out that it was a combination of my radiating hip pain, digestive issues (because I was stupid enough to eat food), and "aunt flow" decided to stop by for a visit this week as well.
There was also a water main break outside of where I work, so they came and dug up some of the street, and turned off our water for a day, at the same time my aunt flow reared her ugly head. It would have been a nice time to have running water.
I spoke to the appointment co-ordinator for the G.I. specialist I've been referred to, and I was told that they are booking appointments for 16 to 20 MONTHS away.
After talking to her on the phone for 20 minutes, I had her convinced that I must be employed in the medical field, because, apparently I sound that knowledgeable about G.I. problems and tests and so forth.
Another thing is, my mom (only after I mentioned it) told me that a very long time ago she was diagnosed with gastroparesis. So that just tells me that I'm probably looking in the right direction.
I spoke to the receptionist at the walk-in clinic this morning, and it turns out the doctor I was supposed to have an appointment with LAST Monday will be away until Friday this week. So I've called MY doctor, and set up an appointment for tomorrow to try to convince him to send me for tests.
After work, I had some running around to do. First, it was off to the bank, then to the walk-in clinic. When I got to the walk-in clinic, I discovered they were closed due to the doctor not showing up for the THIRD day in a row. The pharmacist right next door said that he'd been referring people to the walk-in clinic about 10 minutes away from there, so I headed that direction, only to find that they, too, had no walk-in doctor that day.
I resigned myself to not seeing a doctor, and went to the mall to buy my gramma some stretchy yarn.
When I finally got home, it was only to discover that somewhere along the way, I'd lost my house keys. They could be at the bank, either of the clinics, or at the mall. With snow on the ground, and all of those places being high-traffic, it's likely that they've been buried, not to be seen until spring, if they're ever seen again.
The tiny bit of patience I had left for our health care system has vanished. Each new setback feels like another nail in my coffin. I feel defeated. But I'm too stubborn to accept defeat.