The ups and downs of the life of a Chronically Ill person

Got some bad news today.  Found out my PCP, who I have been working with since 2011, is leaving her clinic and moving onward and upward.

She’s known me before diagnosis and has been utterly fantastic post-diagnosis of Cowden Syndrome and Lhermitte-duclos Disease.  I get it, though.  I have been through this before with others on my team, but it doesn’t get any easier!  If I was a regular person, this would just be par for the course:  OK, time to choose a new doctor.  But when you’re navigating life with 2 Rare Diseases, it’s a tad different.

I am sad.  Pretty darn sad.  So Mom treated me to sushi after the appointment.

Found out my results of my FNA biopsy of my thyroid bed from a few weeks ago.  NO DIAGNOSABLE SAMPLE WAS FOUND.  AGAIN.  I am so over this.  

I have decided that this issue is going to the back burner.  Maybe I’ll have another one in the Spring; who knows.  Right now there’s too much other stuff going on.

 

 

Frustration X 1,000,000,000,000 %

I’m so frustrated right now I could spit nails.

I got a job a few months ago.  This is great.  This. Is. Great. However, I now have insurance.  That costs me $300/month.  I won’t go on about that right now.

What I will go on about right now is the damn paperwork and hoops that a medically involved person must go through.  Why?  What the freak for?  Just to see A DOCTOR?!  You know, the doctor(s) I have been seeing for 8 years? I’m not a normal person who gets sick once a year and can go to the doctor then.  I am the person who must go to the doctor, usually, every 90 days.  I have 5+ specialty doctors I must follow up with, but thankfully am established with them. So, whew.

Why do I have to do everyone else’s damn job?  Why must I call the primary doctor, then the insurance, then the specialist, then back to the insurance to ensure that they are all communicating and are on the same page?  Who the hell has time for this crap? I’ve made/received 10 (!) calls just today on getting authorizations sorted out and making sure things have been “coded” correctly, and finding out which actual doctor will do the correct authorization?

Aw, hell.  It’s only 3 PM and I’m done and over this b.s.

I have 2 appointments next week – Neurology and Endocrinology.  What do you think the odds are that I can actually see get these appointments authorized?

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PS, what happened to spell check in here?

Can’t stop thinking about it

I wasn’t going to write about this but since I can’t stop thinking about it, I suppose I should.

I was at the dermatology doctor a few days ago.  (I won’t go into the melanoma risks with Cowden Syndrome right now.)  When I exited the elevator and headed to the check-in window, I heard a loud male’s voice.  I could tell immediately that he was irate about something and was on the verge, if he wasn’t already, of making a scene.  The waiting room area is quite large, so I stayed far to the other end.  Come to find out, he was at the exact window I needed to be in order to check-in.

I made eye contact with one of the staff (who are protected behind a plate glass window, but whatev) and she said she could check me in for my appointment.  The man continued to yell, and I told the receptionist she needed to call security.  She did.

Then she finished my check-in steps and I was finished.  Yet, the man was still where I needed to be and he was still yelling.  I heard another female staff (I assumed a manager-type) trying to talk with him to calm him down.  I heard her say, “Do you need to go to the ER?” and then I heard her say, “If you keep saying things like that I will need to call security.” This guy then really escalates and starts yelling such vulgar and disgusting things (about) one or all the girls behind the plate glass window.

I watched this all unfold as the manager came over to the window I was at and asked the receptionist to call security.  I walked back near the elevators and restroom, and was wracking my brain of what I should do.  Hide in the restroom?  Get back in the elevator?  I didn’t know where the stairs were off hand.  I saw a young man with 2 little toddler girls by the restroom. I told him to get the kids away from the area because a guy was making a scene.

So, all this is playing out in slow motion for me.  I’m getting anxious now as I write this.

What seems like a second later, I see the security guard come off the elevator.  I told him, “Go that way!” and no sooner do I say that the irate man and I are face to face.  I leaned towards the right and bee-lined around him.  I heard the security guard say, “I need someone to tell me what’s going on here.”  And the nice man with the 2 toddler girls said something (helpful) as well, but I was already gone.

I walked over to the window (where I normally would have checked-in) and I said to one of the girls, “I don’t want to be out here.”  She buzzed me inside the doors and I waited there for a minute or 2 before she took me back to the exam room.

I couldn’t speak as I got to the exam room. I told them they probably didn’t want to take my blood pressure as it’d be through the roof.  I’ve never felt so vulnerable in my entire life.