Three in the godsdamn AM.
Current music 🎶 : Avenue of Shapes— Robin Guthrie and Harold Budd
I can’t sleep.
Today at the doctor’s office, I walked in looking for an answer to the narcolepsy and blood sugar episodes that have been growing more and more frequent and disruptive. When I described just a few of them, and exactly how they manifested — the ones that came on when I was feeling at my most wide awake especially bugged me — I saw a look of intense concern flash across my doctor’s face.
It’s never a good thing when your doctor loses his poker face.
He broke out his stethoscope then, and instructed me to do the deep breathing thing.
After this, he told me that this did not sound like narcolepsy OR blood sugar — though yes, my hypoglycemia is being a problematic little bitch. (My words.)
This is cardiac.
Everything between that and “You’ll need to call the hospital to arrange to pick up a monitor to wear for a few days” is a complete fucking blank. I’ve been in shock since 4:30.
I’m supposed to be up for work in two hours.
The elevated liver numbers that have my GP mildly interested have given my gastroenterologist one hell of a concern. They want a liver ultrasound. And due to the whole late night coughing up acid and agonizing abdominal pain thing that responds to nothing, they also want an endoscopy, just to make sure nothing is fucked. So I’m going to need a ride that day. They also agree that the weight thing is a distribution situation re: losing inches but not weight, and that the blood sugar is probably because of one specific medication and to just keep an eye on it.
Confession: I will probably stick to those clicker lancets, because frankly even they make me jumpy. I recoil at standard lancets. It’s the visible needle. I have this thing with needles. If I can’t see the needle, I’m ok, but if I can see it then good luck.
I specifically ask doctors and med techs to not let me see the needles when there is a needle necessary. Of course, there’s a weird thing where I can taste some needles when they go in. (I can’t explain it, it’s always been a thing.)
Though I’m not diabetic or prediabetic, a work doctor a while back advised me to keep track of my blood sugar, after I had a hypoglycemic event in the office. It was confirmed by my doctor later on: I have nonreactive hypoglycemia.
Confounding Factor: My meds spike my levels artificially. So I have to keep an eye on THAT. The same meds also crash it.
So, at different times of the day, I have to determine if my malaise is general fatigue, the fibro, or if my blood sugar has just cratered. Usually it’s a combination of the second two and a cup of sugar coffee and an apple fixes things.
But first, I have to brace for that little stick…
I don’t know what this brain symbol means but boy howdy is this setting doing wonders on my pain.
Today, I tried doing research on TENS machines and chronic pain. I could barely find anything newer than ten years ago, and a lot of it was speculation. It’s like they haven’t been doing any research at all. Maybe they haven’t.
I can believe that.
But what I know is that during physical therapy for my crap knee, I was connected to one of those giant versions of these for a different purpose — trying to get the muscles to get active and stop this silly wasting nonsense they’ve developed (they have not; I’m on a specific diet to help that now). Instead I got intense pain relief. So I got my own secondhand device. And now, this one.
I’ve heard things like “the jury is still out,” or “we don’t know,” and even “that’s dangerous outside of the hospital.” It was actually the hospital that recommended this, when they saw this worked better than the NSAID that I was on a stomach-melting dose of.
Today, instead of a recalcitrant leg, I’ve got electrodes glued to my face, fighting a cluster headache. It comes back on a schedule, but this keeps it back from rendering me nonfunctional — ridiculous though I may look. The machine is small but mighty. I would love to see more science, because I like knowing how cool things like this work.
Right now though, I gotta reset my timer and intensity. I like not having a headache.
So, the OB went looking for the mass and almost knocked me out, right? And he says that if the thing gets removed we might lose that ovary but do you realize there’s also a fucking hernia here
And I’m like “ask again later when I’m not seeing lightning bolts?”
Five minutes later in the room with the books he literally goes down the textbook and
It’s also probably already INCARCERATED even and he’s gonna kill my GP for missing it last month before it got here.
He doesn’t think it’s the mass causing the pain—in fact after the pelvic almost knocked me out, he was positive. It was why he went through the book and looked at the signs of a hernia (after I’d recovered enough to answer his questions) actually. We’re going to need more exams to see if the thing is benign or something else, but the fact is this thing is kicking from one side to the other in my guts along a hernia scar that is literally the same age as me—the hernia that was repaired in it is older (I WASN’T BORN YET).
It gets better/worse: we are having a fuck of a time finding a surgeon who takes my HMO.
Literally my best chance is to blow this thing at work and wind up in the hospital from there.
So yeah, this kinda sucks.