The novel approach my doctors are taking has basically been
• test this.
• test that.
• did we test this? Test this.
• Don’t test this. We don’t need to test this. This person is healthy.
• “What the fuck do you mean they didn’t test that? Send a fax right now and then make sure they send one back CONFIRMING they tested it today!” (My gastroenterologist may have had words with my GP.)
• UH this is worrisome let’s test this.
• THIS IS NEW. So that side effect might actually be THIS thing we found here
• But hey at least these are healthy!
• Oh, those though? Not so much.
I’ve spent a third of the month in and out of medical testing. We’ve found nerve damage in my legs and the hip/groin (THAT one, we’re not sure how it happened). We’ve found a not small ovarian cyst. We’ve found no problems with my boobs, which means I’ve so far beaten a family curse. The migraines are atypical and we don’t know if they’re seizure related, but the zappy lights do trip them. I go back in a few months.
The legs are fucked. Losing five pounds might ease the pain on them but no guarantee. But I’ve got six months to do that in. Three of the four doctors do not care otherwise about where my weight is.
The fourth proceeded to fat shame me and suggest that I drop to 130. The last time I was that light, I was, if you can believe it, sicker than I am now. I also had no chest. (…and no associated back problems, but hey.) However, he finally took my pain seriously and provided something for it—
And it knocks me out for six hours at a time.
I’m a fan of not being in pain, but, I kind of miss being conscious sometimes.