House feels my pain (in my icon)
It seems sitting in a very loud, packed hospital for five hours caused such stress that I have a whopper of a headache this morning.
This county system thing is horrible if you have to see a hospital-based doctor. There just isn't ROOM for everyone to sit and everyone is packed in like sardines. I texted Mom "Give me your poor, unwashed, huddled masses..." She kept me sane as I bitched about the conditions and the wait. At least I had cute interns and residents to look at. I love how they move in a gaggle around the hallways. I've decided I definitely need to finish learning Spanish because I run into too many people who don't speak English and someone needs to translate for them.
The resident I saw in the neurology department was really nice. I asked what year he was and he said, "I'm a fourth. I'm graduating this year. Is that acceptable??" in this "don't give me shit about still learning" tone. I said that was fine, I just hated dealing with first and second-years who had just specialized but didn't know how to practice what they were learning yet. He did a thorough exam, and listened to my whole neuro history. He recommended upping the Diamox (he was really sensitive in picking the right phrase to say "because you're fat" - he came up with "the dose should probably be increased because of your... body mass.") and, if that didn't work, doing an LP. I agreed with his assessment. He was nice and very cute. He got the opthalmascope and checked my retinas. He said, "You have such wonderfully large pupils." I just about retorted, "That's the crappiest pick-up line I've ever heard." But I held my tongue.
As you probably know from watching ER, he had to have his attending physician sign off on his work. The attending was an old guy and quite a jerk. I felt like I was being quizzed and he was waiting for me to screw up. He would say something like, "Do you have headaches in the morning?" and I would reply, "No. But we did a sleep study anyway and I don't have sleep apnea." He would look all, "How the hell did you know that's what I was going for?" When he asked about the Diamox, I said, "We decided that it was the best course of treatment given the evidence and previous test results. His reaction was a very snide, "We??" I said, "Yes, WE, as in the doctor and I made the decision." He seemed thoroughly irritated that I was fully educated about my problems. This is the second time I've encountered this. He recommended adding elavil (a very old tricyclic antidepressant) in a very low dose to help the headaches after saying that there was NO WAY that my headaches were pressure-related. I beg to differ. I strongly objected to adding the elavil to my already large medication cocktail. He dismissed my worries. I told him that I would be checking with my psychiatrist first, and might not take it even then because of the side effects (significant weight gain, cardiac problems). What a dick.
The resident brought out a release for him to get Dr. Blake's chart so he could see what she had been doing before I lost my insurance and couldn't see her anymore. When he did, I told him that he was a good doctor because he listened to me and prescribed the correct course of treatment, in my mind. That he shouldn't let the asshole attending make him feel bad, because the attending is no longer a good doctor. He seemed very pleased to hear that. I always try to tell residents who are good at what they're doing exactly that, because they need that feedback from patients so they don't end up like the assholes who teach them.
I'm not going to take the elavil. I think there has to be a better way... I'm going to call Dr. Blake and see if she'll talk to me over the phone or see me pro bono. At least I got a referral to the rheumatologist. I have to wait a week for the referral to get to the right office before making my appointment, but I can hopefully be seen sometime before christmas and figure out some kind of treatment for the fibromyalgia. Yay!
While waiting to be discharged (which took over an hour after my appointment was finished), this woman walked in with a boy who was probably about 2. He was all little boy ball of energy. Mom looked seriously tired so he somehow decided to latch on to me. It turned out that he spoke nothing but Spanish, but since it was just little boy spanish, I could follow. We played a game of "Aqui? Alla? (Here? There?) and finally I hit on the universally translatable thing: winnie the pooh. He was standing on the chair next to me and jumping up and down. I asked him to sit. He didn't. I asked him to please sit. He didn't. I said he was jumping like Tigger. He said, "Si! TIGGER!" and started bouncing. So cute. When I got up to leave he said "Adios!" At least he helped take my mind off how long the whole thing was taking.
Meds are kicking in... hopefully I can rest some now. stupid complacent county doctor assholes. I miss having a choice in who I see. If one doc is useless, just go see another. Not in the county system... you should just be thankful you get seen at all. Blech.
This county system thing is horrible if you have to see a hospital-based doctor. There just isn't ROOM for everyone to sit and everyone is packed in like sardines. I texted Mom "Give me your poor, unwashed, huddled masses..." She kept me sane as I bitched about the conditions and the wait. At least I had cute interns and residents to look at. I love how they move in a gaggle around the hallways. I've decided I definitely need to finish learning Spanish because I run into too many people who don't speak English and someone needs to translate for them.
The resident I saw in the neurology department was really nice. I asked what year he was and he said, "I'm a fourth. I'm graduating this year. Is that acceptable??" in this "don't give me shit about still learning" tone. I said that was fine, I just hated dealing with first and second-years who had just specialized but didn't know how to practice what they were learning yet. He did a thorough exam, and listened to my whole neuro history. He recommended upping the Diamox (he was really sensitive in picking the right phrase to say "because you're fat" - he came up with "the dose should probably be increased because of your... body mass.") and, if that didn't work, doing an LP. I agreed with his assessment. He was nice and very cute. He got the opthalmascope and checked my retinas. He said, "You have such wonderfully large pupils." I just about retorted, "That's the crappiest pick-up line I've ever heard." But I held my tongue.
As you probably know from watching ER, he had to have his attending physician sign off on his work. The attending was an old guy and quite a jerk. I felt like I was being quizzed and he was waiting for me to screw up. He would say something like, "Do you have headaches in the morning?" and I would reply, "No. But we did a sleep study anyway and I don't have sleep apnea." He would look all, "How the hell did you know that's what I was going for?" When he asked about the Diamox, I said, "We decided that it was the best course of treatment given the evidence and previous test results. His reaction was a very snide, "We??" I said, "Yes, WE, as in the doctor and I made the decision." He seemed thoroughly irritated that I was fully educated about my problems. This is the second time I've encountered this. He recommended adding elavil (a very old tricyclic antidepressant) in a very low dose to help the headaches after saying that there was NO WAY that my headaches were pressure-related. I beg to differ. I strongly objected to adding the elavil to my already large medication cocktail. He dismissed my worries. I told him that I would be checking with my psychiatrist first, and might not take it even then because of the side effects (significant weight gain, cardiac problems). What a dick.
The resident brought out a release for him to get Dr. Blake's chart so he could see what she had been doing before I lost my insurance and couldn't see her anymore. When he did, I told him that he was a good doctor because he listened to me and prescribed the correct course of treatment, in my mind. That he shouldn't let the asshole attending make him feel bad, because the attending is no longer a good doctor. He seemed very pleased to hear that. I always try to tell residents who are good at what they're doing exactly that, because they need that feedback from patients so they don't end up like the assholes who teach them.
I'm not going to take the elavil. I think there has to be a better way... I'm going to call Dr. Blake and see if she'll talk to me over the phone or see me pro bono. At least I got a referral to the rheumatologist. I have to wait a week for the referral to get to the right office before making my appointment, but I can hopefully be seen sometime before christmas and figure out some kind of treatment for the fibromyalgia. Yay!
While waiting to be discharged (which took over an hour after my appointment was finished), this woman walked in with a boy who was probably about 2. He was all little boy ball of energy. Mom looked seriously tired so he somehow decided to latch on to me. It turned out that he spoke nothing but Spanish, but since it was just little boy spanish, I could follow. We played a game of "Aqui? Alla? (Here? There?) and finally I hit on the universally translatable thing: winnie the pooh. He was standing on the chair next to me and jumping up and down. I asked him to sit. He didn't. I asked him to please sit. He didn't. I said he was jumping like Tigger. He said, "Si! TIGGER!" and started bouncing. So cute. When I got up to leave he said "Adios!" At least he helped take my mind off how long the whole thing was taking.
Meds are kicking in... hopefully I can rest some now. stupid complacent county doctor assholes. I miss having a choice in who I see. If one doc is useless, just go see another. Not in the county system... you should just be thankful you get seen at all. Blech.