Silly Myrtle...

Well, I'm sitting here weeping and thought I would try to write out why ... you know ... so I could stop weeping.

The cardiologist appointment was good.  At least I think it was.  And that really is the whole problem.  I started off apologizing for avoiding him and explained how it finally dawned on me that I never told him or his staff (in such as way as could be heard) that the chest pains I was having were new, a new symptom.  What he heard was that I was having chest pains as most of his dysautonomia patients do.  So, there I was certain I was going to have a heart attack ... or stroke, actually, with the wide pulse pressure, and the guy and his staff were not even bothered.  I realized now what they heard was something normal and I didn't know it was normal ... for dysautonomia.

Then, really, I was all caught up in how darned expensive erythromycin is and just didn't want to spend $50 to go see him.  Then the weight started piling on despite giving up soft drinks and switching to real food and consuming an average of 1,150 calories a day over a week when Fitbit tells me I'm expending far more calories than that.  I am to the point where I am embarrassed and ashamed about how I look and I don't want to see anyone, especially medical personnel where I have to get on a scale.

Plus, well, I did NOT want to have an EKG, which is the first thing that always happens and involves bare skin.

The cardiologist did what he did last time ... purposely.  He did not send his nurse in but came in himself so that I would have to communicate with him.  He sat well away from me and listened hard to what I said.  He interrupted and questioned to ensure he was hearing correctly and he repeated things for me several time.  Most importantly, he came up with a plan.

I think the plan is why I am weeping.
I totally and absolutely do NOT know what to do with hope.
I am terrified at the moment.

His plan is contingent upon another doctor taking me on as a new patient.  She would serve as my GP, though her speciality is Integrated Medicine.  That means, practically, every single time I visit her it will be the $50 co-pay.  However, he knows her and would work with her as a part of the Myrtle Care Team.  He would support her and work through her when needed so as to minimize my appointments and tell her the direction he would like her to try to have some more balance in my health.  By that I mean, this latest symptom where I roll over in bed and my heart started racing and hammering and I cannot fall back asleep for the longest while is because I am not getting the help I need.  He actually said that I am working harder at trying to help myself than any medical personnel.

Since my surgeon is in their system, the cardiologist and integrated medicine specialist could work with her, too.  I would have all my main doctors meeting together IN PERSON when necessary, but talking together when necessary.  And all would be notified when any of them did something, changed something, ordered something.

Just what I've needed, right?
When ... tell me when something like that has EVER worked out in my favor??????????

Poor Amos, he's so agitated that he's whimpering incessantly.  I'm upsetting him and his upsettedness is making my own upsettedness worse since I now have puppy momma guilt on top of everything else.  SIGH.

Since my appointment was so late, his nurse could not reach the doctor to see if she would see me.  So, mostly, I left the office in limbo.  He did say that the new doctor would most likely want to do a full exam on me.  The whole keeping-my-clothes-on stance would not work for the first visit.  If they can have x-ray machines that see through clothes at the airport, why cannot doctors have little scanners that see through clothes?????

Then there is the alternative part of integrative medicine.  Some things I would consider, but not something like acupuncture.  Plus, most of that is all out of pocket.  So, basically, I've leapt ahead to the whole idea failing, I guess.  Maybe.  I just don't know.

The cardiologist did agree that we need to work on the theophylline.  I asked if there were other drugs that would help raise my heart rate, and there are.  However, none would provide the respiratory support that theophylline does (helping keep my asthma under control).  He ordered an increase, but using 100 mg pills, so that I won't have more wasted prescriptions.  That means the prescription won't be in until Tuesday.

On the way home, I stopped by Target because I got a voice mail about a prescription being ready.  Actually, it was supposed to be returned because it was the theophylline and I have too much of that at the moment, taking just a half dose.  However, the two medications I thought the voice mail was for were in the window to be filled, so I wandered around whilst the pharmacist filled them.

I looked at some female clothing, because, well, it bothers me that I am wearing men's XL lounge pants now.  I found something that I am not sure  what it is, but is pink and flowery and flowy and so lightweight I knew it wouldn't hurt.  I also found two pairs of some kind of exercise pants that looked like they would fit (they do).  And I found a lightweight jacket (to keep my arms covered) that is NOT a hoodie.  All were on clearance and then the Cartwheel app had a coupon for an additional 20% off, so I did some retail therapy for just under $20.  Maybe I am weeping because I spent money on wants when needs is my focus???

Then, because I knew it had not been enough time, I sat down.
I sat down in Target and fell asleep.
I feel asleep in Target and snored myself back awake.

Maybe that is why I just cannot stop weeping.

Only, well, I think it is even the idea that I could have an real medical team helping me, even if that help really is more supportive emotionally since, you know, there is no cure or real treatment for dysautonomia.

I was pleasantly surprised that I was able to figure out a way to fold the weighted lap blanket so that it would fit into the magnificent GREEN leather bag that I finally remembered I bought and now use as my medical appointment bag.  I think that it most definitely helped my anxiety during the appointment, and after just typing that, I realize I should be beneath the full-sized weighted blanket.  I think both Amos and I need it.

Not to be random or anything, but can you think of any reason why somebody in Fort Wayne would need to be driving around in a Lamborghini?  I saw the guy get in it.  The doors open up like a bird spreading out its wings.  I could be wrong, but it seemed to me the very young man driving the thing should consider having his muffler adjusted.  I could hear every shift of gear he did before I turned in a different direction.

Well, that was my day.
A strange appointment.
A weepy evening.

Damn hope.
It's a wretched thing.

I'm still weeping.....................................