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.
Does It Mean Us?
4 hours ago