Thursday, March 17, 2005

doctors suck

I saw my general surgeon this morning, a follow up due to my weekend trauma.

First I had to explain my complete medical saga to the latest chief intern. Again. Guaranteed every time I go to see a doctor or end up in the emergency room I go through the ten-minute schpiel (NOT exaggerating time here) at least three times.

So the intern says that since my blockage cleared up on its own he would not recommend any action until it happens again.

Not acceptable, say I.

We'll talk to head of surgery, says he.

Head of surgery comes in and lays it out like this: Yes, I had a blockage. Yes, it is an adhesion. In today's climate, adhesion repair surgery is only done under duress, on a need to address basis. Need to address being defined as a blockage that lasts over 24 hours. No surgeon will do a damn thing if I go through anything less. I could show up in the hospital once every six months for the rest of my life in extreme pain, but if the blockage clears up in less than a day they will send me on my merry way.

At this point I start to cry. See, I thought I was done with all of this. My entire adult life has been spotted with emergency room visits, and I will tell you honesty, the blockages all cleared up in less than 24 hours - all except the one last year that I got sliced open for.

Seems chiefs of surgery don't like crying. He tells me to get dressed and we can discuss in his office.

I take a lot of deep breaths, compose myself, go to his office, and start crying all over again. I explain to him I understand why he won't/can't operate; it’s just hard to hear that I have more pain to go through. With no idea of what limit. I can watch what I eat, take care of myself, hell - run a marathon, but will eventually end up being sick. A bit of a shock to hear.

He stops and asks me if I have someone I can talk to.

I look at him, confused. Professionally?

Yup. He tells me I am clinically depressed about this and need to see a shrink. My friends can try to listen and help, but they can't nod and say yes enough to really help me get through this ordeal.

I know that there are a million worse things I could be afflicted with, and that I am very fortunate to have what health I do have. But I still can't stop crying. I had to record three different voice mails to my bosses to let them know I would be out for the rest of the day, because I broke down in sobs with the first two attempts.

Since have taken a long walk home, and have started to self-medicate/celebrate St Paddy's day. I will go out with my friends tonight and celebrate life, which is truly the best cure for all.

1 comment:

imissmyglitter said...

I absolutely love you, I'm 25 with Crohn's disease and my friend came upon your blog as I had told him this same story but obviously slightly different and without the clinical depression-ness:) Anyway, if you would like to rant and rave about idiot doctors...I'm your girl. I currently see the best of the best doctors and should go to medical school myself so that some poor soul doesn't have to listen the the same bs lines that I do. I'm pretty sure you can't "feel my pain" unless I stab you a few times and then just let you walk around a bit (not you of course the doctors, I see that you feel the same as I) :) It was nice reading anyway, and don't need a psych...just talk to more people like you:)