Tag Archive | doctors

Some questions have more than one right answer


Taking tests in school I never much cared for multiple choice tests that allowed for more than one right answer, as in check all that apply. I always had an uneasy feeling that I was being tricked somehow, or that I was missing something.

I get the feeling my doctors are feeling the same way right now as they sort through my symptoms and test results. It seems that I have more than one reason for some of my symptoms, and they could be working together in some cases. Don’t worry, I’ll explain.

So let’s narrow this down to one issue I have right now out of the dozens. We are actively working on vestibular dysfunction. The vestibular system is a complex combination of eyes, ears and central nervous nervous. I have several abnormal symptoms, but I want to focus on just one to show how difficult this process is. I have trouble standing on uneven surfaces. By trouble, I mean I get disoriented, a dizzy, lightheaded feeling comes over me, my vision dims, my chest tightens and it gets difficult to breathe, my knees buckle and sway, my leg muscles spasm and tighten, I get nauseous…depending on what it is I fall over, nearly pass out, or need help getting off the surface. Examples are squishy snow, mud and sand. Memory foam. It takes forever to find shoes without memory foam now, but it is absolutely evil. Basically any type of foam. They have a blue bit of foam they keep pulling out at the doctors or physical therapy that I now refer to as the blue bit of doom. It looks like this.71-ZQEqun2L._SL1351_.jpg

Seems innocent enough. But when I stand on that, I completely malfunction. Okay, the first time it was a complete shock to everyone and I did almost fall and we all went “what the heck was that?” But now they pull it out, and I say I cant stand on that, they give me a bar to hold onto and a couple of spotters and allow me to ease my weight onto it.

So it shows a problem with my nerves, that part is clear. But where? The physical therapist was explaining to me that my legs don’t seem to be getting clear signals back to my brain. When we encounter squishy surfaces it engages our balance system and our brain has to make all  these tiny corrections of flex and relax. It seemed like the “relax” portion of the messages were not coming back, so my legs would get tighter and tighter only, never correcting for this position, completely lost and confused.

So I’ve been mentioning this to several different doctors now and with the new data, it may not be all from my lumbar spinal cord injury, but a processing delay in my brain as well. Like all these confused signals jam up my brain and it can’t keep up like it used to. This is my current understanding anyway.

What do I do with that? Meet more doctors of course. I see a spine rehab specialist tomorrow to see if he can help sort out which of this stuff is coming from the spine and which is coming from the brain and then maybe we can make a plan after that. I’m extremely anxious but also a bit eager to meet this new doc tomorrow. He is basically the guy I should have met nearly 30 years after my first back surgery went wrong and my parents didn’t let me have aftercare. I’m hopeful he may have some tips or meds for me to help with all the issues that come along with a spinal injury at waist level: bowel, bladder, digestion, twitching legs, legs moving in sleep, muscle spasms, muscle weakness, drop foot, knee pain…. and now how it has affected my central nervous system, chronic sleep issues, migraines.

I’m very curious if he has another piece of this puzzle, and maybe some advice to make my life slightly more comfortable. It’s going to be difficult and embarrassing to discuss some of these private issues, but I feel I’m up to it. I have my notecard with a checklist so I don’t forget anything. I takes months to get in and see a doctor like this, better be prepared for your 10 minutes with him. I’m only half joking. I’m sure I will be assessed by a PA or fellow or student thoroughly and then the doctor will try to dismiss me, and it will be up to me to make my case both interesting and valid. I’m also being realistic. I understand I have had this injury since I was 12. I am not asking for a cure and I know it isn’t likely that they can improve the conditions of the nerves themselves at this point. But I want to hear him tell me that AFTER he has done some testing and really considered my situation. Which I know means hours of poking and prodding, likely some nerve conduction tests which are not pleasant at all. And hopefully some other tests or procedures that I don’t even know exist that is brand new and high tech and showing promise with incomplete injuries like mine. I’m just so tired of them giving up on me before even starting, so please new doctor, please be open minded.


Surgery story, part 5

My stomach announced its awakening with intense cramps that tugged at my incision. I knew this was a good sign, but it did not feel good. By morning I was happy to say yes when the nurse asked if I was passing gas. One of those things you don’t miss until it’s gone I suppose.

My surgeon came in to see me that morning and I was so happy to see him. He told me briefly about my surgery, that it was a success, that he decompressed the nerve and restored full function, that he stabilized and restored balance, but we would talk more later and all I had to do now was rest and heal. He was beaming, happy for me, and proud of his work. His positive energy is contagious.

He said he had to catch a plane and would be out of the country for 2 weeks but his team would take great care of me and call him every day.

I stopped him leaving by asking about my numb tongue.

Suddenly his face changed. His smile left. I had never seen him like this.

There were a few events that could have caused trauma to your tongue though we did our best to minimize it.

One was a serious complication you need to know about, and could have been life threatening if you were at any other hospital not equipped to handle it.

(OK I wasn’t really liking this conversation. No one said anything about complications. I had no idea what he was saying, and it was super scary, he was so serious)

While you were sedated, already deep under anesthesia you had an extremely rare laryngospasm causing you to not receive oxygen for some time. It was required that you be extubated, as you crushed the tube, treated with medications to relieve the spasm and reopen your airway before a new breathing tube could be inserted. This is an extremely dangerous situation and you need to make sure all your doctors are aware of this before any future surgeries you may have so they will be prepared for this possibility. You are fortunate you were at this hospital with my team when it happened.

(Oh f*ck that doesn’t sound good. Wow. Thanks for not letting me die?? Alrighty then. But all I said out loud was)


So even though every care was taken, it is possible your tongue was pinched during this process as it had to be done quickly.  Also during the transcranial nerve monitoring an electric current is delivered through your scalp that causes your facial muscles to contract, including the tongue. It is possible all of this has caused some trauma and irritation to the nerve roots of the tongue that should reverse in time.

(What he actually said was longer than this, included more medical terms, and scary stuff like various direct mouth injections, flipping me over, packing my mouth with gauze, hard to see my face when I’m laying on it and contractions with current need to be strong enough to travel the length of my spine…and I got really tired listening to him. I couldn’t hear anymore of what I had been through. He answered my question…and then some…for my tongue might be numb. But he had no idea how long to expect. He said if it was still numb two days after surgery, then it would likely take weeks or months)


He peeled back my bandage to peek at my incision (rolling over wasnt AS bad today) and said it looked good, only some mild drainage on the bottom. Then he left.

After a liquid breakfast, PT came in again. This guy wanted me to take a walk. I raised my eyebrows and thought skeptical thoughts, but of course I said OK. I always say OK. My hand was still inflated, but I could get my thumb and pinky wrapped a bit around the walker today, mostly I still had to rest it there on top. But this walker had wheels, so I didn’t have to lift it like the one I had when I was 12. I only had to push it slightly and it moved. I no longer hated this walker, it was becoming my friend, my path towards freedom.

Look at me go! I could race past ummm, no one actually. But I didn’t care. It felt so good to be walking, well, emotionally good. Physically it hurt. Each step pulled and tugged on my back and belly. PT guy asked me to walk out to the hallway. I walked past my roommate, first time I had seen her, and eventually I made it to the door. He asked me to stand and rest a moment, then head in the direction of the elevators ahead. I was slowing down, which I didn’t know was possible. PT guy guided me to turn around and head back. By the time I reached my bed, I was sweating and breathing hard. I had walked about 30 feet and needed a nap.

When I woke up I noticed my left arm hurting, and noticed swelling around the IV. I called the nurse. She took it out, I had blown another vein. This one didn’t inflate too badly. She started looking for a spot to start a new IV and I was bruised and swollen or bandaged everywhere. They were doing several blood tests to check electrolytes and hemoglobin to see how i was recovering from the blood loss, so i had bandaids everywhere. The nurse called a special IV team in that used a vein finder, it shone a red light and like magic my veins appear. Even with the special team and tools, it took 5 more attempts to get one in, and it was nearly in my right armpit, not exactly comfortable.

After a liquid lunch PT guy returned and wanted me to start using the regular bathroom in my room. I wished I had the closer bed, the walk seemed so far, but of course I said OK. I’d do about anything to upgrade from the bedside commode. I still needed an escort to walk with me, but they left me alone in there, much better.

Then transport guy came with a wheelchair and said time for x-rays. Again? PT guy was still there, so he put two pillows in the wheelchair and showed me how to get in and instructed the guy to be gentle. I had to hold my Walker on my lap/feet so I could have it with me to stand for the x-ray.

The standing x-ray was easy. Then she wanted me to lie on the hard metal table. I should have refused, but everything else was going so well I thought I would try and be compliant. It hurt. It hurt for several hours. And it was for another abdominal x-ray because the one yesterday in my bed wasn’t a clear picture. My stomach is fine! It will be fine soon!

A Dr came up later and asked me again about passing gas, yes, passing stool, no.

Then an aide comes in and says she has an enema for me. What? ??? I was so tired, in too much pain to fight. She has me stand and lean forward and comes at me with a squeeze bottle. Let’s just say the contents did not go where she thought it did, which was fine with me, as I didn’t need it. I also didn’t need to be all wet now. She handed me a towel and left and I shook my head in disbelief.

I slept until my liquid dinner. I confirmed each time that I do not like orange jello. But the cherry ice was superb. I tried not to think about why my throat hurt, that I had a rare complication and was within a minute of death. I used to wish for death. Was that my wish being granted? Did something happen to change it though? Why am I not only alive, but with this amazing outcome of restored sense and strength in my legs?   I feel so many new sensations, the blanket, my toes rubbing together, the coarse texture of the hospital grippy socks. I also notice a lack of pain, no more crushing, or zapping, or twitching, or jumping. My legs are calm, happy, and move when I ask them to. I fall asleep moving my toes and ankles up and down, up and down, up and down.

I wake up with pain in my arm. Yup, the vein has blown. The nurse stops the pump and removes the IV. I tell her how difficult it was to place that one and that it only lasted 8 hours. I asked to please have no IV since it was only fluids, and I was drinking fine, not vomiting. She asked Dr and I got permission to go overnight without IV if I promised to drink a certain amount of water. I agreed.

Without the IV, my arms started deflating, and I started peeing unbelievable amounts. I overflowed the measuring ‘hats’ they place to keep track. My poor bladder couldn’t hardly keep up, I’m sure my kidneys were tired too. By morning my hand and arms were normal size and I was exhausted. I couldn’t help wondering if they were giving me too much fluids all along. I felt SO much better without that IV.

Surgery story, part 4

The vomiting did me a favor and either removed some of the meds, or just the waves of pain cleared my mind for a moment. Enough for me to notice my hand was inflated. My fingers were the size of italian sausages and I could no longer bend them. It looked like when you inflate a rubber glove. Did you see Big Hero 6? If not you should, great movie, but I was Baymax. My wrist and arm were swollen too, up to the elbow. I stared in amazement for a bit then tried to use my sausage to push the nurse call button but I couldn’t push hard enough, it was too puffy. Oh. This must be why they have two buttons, one on each side of the bed. I used my other hand. It was the first time I pushed that button so far during my stay, I hated doing it.

Can I help you?

(Huh? Like a drive thru? I thought she would just come to me, I didn’t know I needed to say why first. I always rehearse drive thru orders. I tried to think of the non insane way to say my fingers were sausages but the word swollen was not coming to my loopy brain)

My hand…ummm

Your hand? Is something wrong with your hand?


I’ll send your nurse.

So I waited, staring in amazement, wondering if my hand might float away, or get popped, it looked straight out of a cartoon so why not, and I was high and well I probably would have those thoughts anyway, who am I kidding. It was horrible and awesome too. It hurt. A lot. But the sight of it…wow.

The nurse came after a while, all I did was hold up that hand.

Her eyes got huge, but not as huge as my hand. She pulled a phone out of her pocket and called someone. Someone came in, said oh no, her IV has infiltrated, I bet someone took her blood pressure on this arm. Then she looks at my other arm, with the Ric dressing, and says, oh….hmmm….OK….well….wow look at the bruising….you poor girl, does this arm hurt? I’ll have to turn off your pump, remove this IV, the fluids have infiltrated. It will go back down but it will take several days. (The awesome was gone when she said days. Sausages are not awesome for days, but I said ok)

So she took out the bad IV and starting looking for a new spot. I had one on the left wrist that was not being used, she had to check if it was still good. It hurt a little but was still flowing so she switched me over to there rather than start a new one.

A Dr came in, not my surgeon, but one from his team, to examine me. She asked me to roll onto my side so she could look at my back. This was the first I had tried this, and it was not easy. Everything pulled, and I felt like I weighed a million pounds. Luckily I didn’t have to stay in that position long. she said everything looked good, no excess drainage or blood. I was supposed to let them know right away if it increases. (I’m thinking I can’t see back there but I just said OK)

I told her about my numb tongue and she looked confused. She had no idea and said to ask my surgeon and let him know if it didn’t get better. I told her OK, but I was getting really worried I might permanently have a numb tongue. I should mention that I was talking with a horrible lisp and impediment a bit like crossing Sylvester Stallone with Sylvester the Cat and wondering why no one else seemed concerned.

After the roll over I was sweating and shaking and hurting. It was like the bed was now lumpy cement and I couldn’t get comfortable. I waited a while for the spasms to stop, for the pain to stop, and then gave in and pushed my pain pump button and let it drift me off to nauseated sleep.

Then a nurse and an aide came in and said they were going to remove my catheter. At first I was confused, until I realized I had not gotten up to pee. Oh yeah. OK. So removing Foley’s from your bladder aren’t the most fun but I do believe it may be the only time women have it easier than men. Not much, but I’ll take it.

So once they were done I started to worry that they removed it too soon. I mean, how was I supposed to get up and go if I could barely roll over?

While I thought about this, a lunch tray came to me. I still was confused, and did my best to eat a little even though everything in me was screaming not to eat. I had a few spoons of chicken noodle soup, a piece of lettuce, a couple pear cubes from a fruit cup, a few sips of water and I was done.

I rested from the exertion when someone from PT came in to see me. she said it was time to get up out of bed. She had a walker and set it next to my bed. I really hate walkers, remembering the one I had when I was 12, and I instantly hated her. But I knew I had to do it.

She put put special kinesio tape on my arm, to help draw the fluids from my hand back into my core. That’s the tape athletes use to stabilize shoulders and such, I laughed to see it on my balloony, non athletic limb.

She then explained I’m not allowed to BLT, bend, lift, or twist. That I have to log roll out of bed. I’m thinking, is there any other way? OK, let’s do this. I roll to my side, bend my knees, like earlier. This time she raised the bed to help me sit up and pulled my feet out to dangle all in one move. There. I was sitting on the edge of the bed.

And I needed to vomit. At least I could reach the bucket myself from my upright position.

PT lady waited for me to vomit, like she’s used to having this effect on people. Then she pushed the Walker in front of me and asked me to stand. She did ask if I felt dizzy, which I didn’t. And she saw my inflated hand and said to rest it on top since I couldn’t grasp with that hand. She held my shoulder on that side just in case. But I stood up fine. It was much easier than the rolling over bit.

My legs were strong.

Both legs.

I just stood there on two legs that I could feel for the first time in 27 years.

She asked me to take a step, did I think I could make it to the chair? I thought I might make it to the moon. Come on, I have two good legs. I can do anything now.

I shuffled over a few steps to the chair, turned around and sat down. She was beaming at how well I did at being safe, no bending, reaching for the arms of the chair before sitting. She doesn’t know I’m an old pro at this.

I was in the chair when hubby arrived. He couldn’t believe it! The nurse came in to change my bedding and wash me up while I was out of bed. That felt great. And odd. We found two electrodes near my left breast I didn’t know were there, and several large pieces of tape covering holes on my legs. Another “what in the world did they do to you…” And me offering suggestions. I guessed it was from the emg nerve monitoring, they stick needle electrodes into your muscles. I’ve had it done while awake so I know, and appreciated not knowing this time. I knew this nurse was actually a student or aide to be on sponge bath duty, so I didn’t let her blank stare bother me. She was super nice and taking great care of me. Everyone doesn’t need to know everything. Yes I typed that. See how much I’ve grown? (I did cringe a little, I admit, but only a little)

Know what’s better than pain meds? Brushing two days of vomiting off your teeth. Being clean brings amazing amounts of comfort.

So I get assisted back into bed, try to settle the shaking from muscle spasms when a transport guy appears with a wheelchair and says he needs to take me for xrays. I looked at him like he had grown horns and was speaking backwards. I told him no way I could get in that wheelchair. I was thinking i was worn out from a few minutes in the chair, no way i can do a whole bumpy ride downstairs. He left for a while and said OK, I’ll take you in your bed when he returned.

Hubby went down with us. I was glad to have him there.

In the x-ray room, they asked me to roll over on my side while they placed film in the bed, and then I had to lay on the film. Ouch!! I asked what this was for, and he said it was checking my abdomen for ileus or obstruction. What?

I then asked hubby, when was my surgery? He gave me a stupid look, and said yesterday. I let that sink in. Why are they making me eat? Why are they concerned about a slow stomach and vomiting? I’ve only been out of anesthesia for about 12, maybe 14 hours now. I usually don’t eat until day 2 or 3 after lesser surgeries. This was odd.

A dr came in later to listen to my belly, ask about nausea, ask about passing gas. No, my belly was still knocked out for the count, no sounds. He put me on a clear liquid diet. Thank you! Why wasn’t I on that to begin with? Idiots. If I had the flu I would have broth and ginger ale why should this be different? The 7 inch hole in my belly, reaching from my navel to my hip, I can only imagine my guts were pushed, disturbed, maybe even bruised to get a clear path to my spine. Did they expect no symptoms from that? Plus the anesthesia, plus narcotics, plus iron pills, plus vitamins, plus pepcid, plus colace…come on. Is all of this to hopefully kick-start my system and get me home, what 1 day sooner? Rather than letting nature takes its course gently? Grrrr

So I started refusing my meds. I told her they hurt my stomach. I only accepted Tylenol. Plain Tylenol. And I stopped pushing my button for pain meds too. I wanted to sober up and let my stomach wake up.

They brought me these lidocaine patches for my back that worked better than any med so far. Nearly instant relief that allowed me to sleep.

I woke up with a familiar urge. Uh-oh, I had to pee. I pressed the nurse button. An aide came in and I explained that I had not gone yet since my surgery, and I can’t walk very well…I got that blank look again. She called the nurse. The nurse called PT. Good lord, does it take a village to help a girl to pee? PT approved me using a bedside commode. They brought in this thing that looked like a chair but you lift the lid and a toilet seat is underneath. They help me roll over, sit up, walk a few steps and sit on this thing. And then 3 people are there with me waiting for me to pee in a chair next to my bed. Umm yeah this might take a while. Now I knew how my toddlers felt, encouragement really doesn’t help. Eventually one by one each person left and they handed me the call button and said to call when I was done. It still took a LONG time to get my bladder muscles going. It hurt to push so I did in small bursts with a deep breath first. Finally done and exhausted, I was ready for bed.

That day ended with a dinner of broth and tea and cherry ice, all of which felt great on my sore throat and didn’t make me sick. I continued to refuse meds and sober up, feeling better for doing so.

I survived day 1 but I had some unanswered questions.

Trusting Dr to relieve pain

This Dr didn’t run away or insult me! He’s up for the challenge of a ‘complicated’ spine.

I’ve seen numerous orthos and neuros over the past 20 years for the chronic pain, balance, weakness, and whole big ball of tricks my spinal cord injury causes me. Now see it has been tricky to find a Dr that would treat me, they either say I must see the Dr who originally did the surgery…yes well that was over 20 years and he was pediatric surgeon and is now retired and well my a$$hole AF tried to sue him for paralyzing me during the surgery so I didn’t really get great after care so I waited until I was an adult.

No I don’t have any records from that surgery because well see above, and the hospital threw out all my records without asking me and I didn’t know they could do that because I hadn’t been there in over 10 years because I was busy learning how to walk again, escaping AF, raising my kids, and it didn’t dawn on me to take care of myself.

I have such a rare childhood scoliosis with full fusion and metal instrumentation along with the nerve damage and now so many degenerative discs and odd bone formations from the areas of the curve that were not corrected in my lower back and neck that each top spine surgeon would refer me to another, wait another 6 months for that appointment to be asked the same stupid and triggering questions all over again.

Well I think I found a guy. good and bad, because we may be talking surgery…

He says he does 4-5 cases like me a year, he was not phased by my complexity at all. He is ordering full contrast CT scans and we will meet again in a few weeks. I felt at ease with him and his office, other than the triggers, so many unavoidable triggers. But I used my new skills to keep myself grounded and present and lower anxiety and it was pretty much ok, ok enough that I went and I’m ok to go again.

It’s so hard for me to trust Dr’s so this is a huge step. Feeling scared and hopeful too. He might be able to repair and reconstruct some bad discs and restore the natural lumbar curve I should have instead of this fix flat back that is painful and hurts my hips and legs and makes it hard to stand and walk. I’m ready to let him try, at this point, I’m not working, I can barely walk anyway, I’m working on my mental health, why not consider attacking some chronic pain issues too? Back surgery has come a long way since 1988….

So I’ve only just met him, nothing has been decided or even actually discussed yet. I’m just amazed that I’m willing to discuss it. Does this mean I have less fear? Think I’m worth it? Or just making sure I don’t have to go back to work anytime soon? Or do I actually think I might die during surgery and this is me giving up? I’m actually not sure why my brain is allowing me to do this finally.

I think its because the gabapentin gave me a taste of a life with slightly less pain, and now I’m curious if we can do even better. What if more of my energy could go into living life instead of distracting from pain? That’s a huge what if, and so I’m tackling that from both physical and mental dimensions.

I’m way too stubborn to admit DBT way be working for me, especially after that terrible post I had about all being crap. Much of it was crap. But damn sometimes great things grow in crap, right? hmmm. My brain is thinking different thoughts. I know it is. Too hard to explain yet though.

The weird thing was this guy was so alarmed at my neuro state in general, my entire right side, my arm has such a deficit like my leg now.Most days I can barely hold a pen long enough for my signature. He said I have the same appearance as his older patients that suffered a stroke years ago. I explained to him about the hemiplegic migraines, and he said “hmmph” and asked me if I had a head MRI because he only saw head CT on file. I was like ummm ???? And then he got angry and said I need to call my neuro and ask for one right away. ok…

So I did call them today and of course the neuro I was seeing there has left the hospital and I have not yet been reassigned a new Dr and blah blah blah, and oh they did see some notes that I was not to have an MRI due to the metal in my back, and said well I just came from back specialist and he said its fine to have the MRI done and to call you…The nurse says well why didn’t he order one then – well because he is a spine specialist and he wouldn’t be able to read it for me, so he was just telling me that out of concern. I love (really dont love at all) this part, being my own advocate, spending hours on the phone, never knowing what to do, wishing a dr would treat ALL of me, wishing insurance would let them even if they knew how. So someone will call me tomorrow.

Its a good thing I’m not working because its a full time job being this sick

Triggered at doctor’s office, panic

Triggered at doctor’s today, it was big one. still coming back down to earth.

Had a good talk with Hubby last night, not feeling angry any more, I think we both recovered from the big fight the other day. That’s a relief.

Because I needed him today. I knew this trip to the dr would be stressful, but I didn’t anticipate just how much. I went to see an allergist for all the hives and swollen tongue from foods I’ve been getting lately. The questionnaire was difficult to fill out at home, and I’;m always tempted to leave off the truth just so I don’t have to discuss it. But I want to feel better, and so I answer questions about my sleep quality and depression history, even though I’m not sure it could be related to food allergies.

First thing nurse says to me is, “I’ve read your history and wow, you’re too young to have all of these problems!”

Really? Thanks. I feel so much better starting off with a dumbass judgmental comment like that.

I find out they don’t have the food allergy tests for anything I have been reacting to, like tomatoes, peppers, potatoes. They have all the usual pollens, grass, molds, dustmites, etc. I ask her is there any benefit to skin testing for specific pollens? We can all see I am reacting, that my nose is swollen and drippy, my eyes are red and itchy and watery, does it matter what it is – or will the treatment be the same.

That nurse looked at me oddly, and said well no, we’ll give you the same treatment no matter which ones you are actually allergic to. So I said if it is my choice, I prefer to be poked and itchy less than more, but I’ll do it if it helps your diagnostics and plan for me. She decided not to do it.

Then they went on and on about how congested my nose is, and I say a hundred times, yes it is, but you made me stop taking claritin for the last 2 weeks so it is much worse than usual. She keeps saying how great the nasal sprays are and I said I can’t use those, I either get headaches or nosebleeds, or the smell and taste is worse than the nasal symptom. They sent me home with 2 rx for nasal sprays.

Then they asked about GERD and heartburn, and I have a huge long history with that, and a treated ulcer, and I’ve been doing fine for a few years now. They are insistent that I have silent GERD and gave me 2 rx for heartburn.

Then they ask about my sleep, and keep digging and digging until I have to say about the PTSD and nightmares and pisspoor sleep quality. She recommended xanax and I said my therapist didn’t want me on anything addictive. I have a rx for xanax.

It was going ok with the nurse, she was quiet and gentle. The sinus xray was ok, I held off the triggers from the xray room and all of my medical trauma, mostly, by deep breathing.

When the doctor came in, I freaked out almost immediately. He had old man pants like my AF used to wear. And he was close talker. He came right in, invaded my space, held my hand way too long, inspecting it after the handshake. He said something about my fair complexion and sat down on the stool in front of me, with his legs so close they wrapped around mine. I was seated against the wall, I could not back up and it took everything in me to simply not die of panic. I wanted to scream at him to move back, but of course I said nothing and he babbled on about nothing new to me and drew diagrams of my nasal passages and made promises to get me feeling not just better, but 100%. I said I didn’t believe that was possible.

And then he picked up the light scope thingy and reached for my ear. And completely creeped me out when stopped way too long, he brushed my hair aside and kinda petted a bit, just staring at it, and saying “my what pretty hair you have”

I nearly vomited. My heart felt like it was going to explode. I stared at the poster on the wall depicting asthma to avoid looking at him and his old man pants. I started counting and intensely reading that poster to keep myself grounded.

Somehow I got through the physical exam, and this guy did not back up. And kept promising me the moon.

The only thing that made sense is that I am likely not allergic to any foods, but I am highly sensitized, we knew that right already, but I didn’t know it was related to sleep quality. So when doctor left, the nurse asked me some more about sleeping, and I explained how I was attacked repeatedly in my sleep and I still have a fear of sleeping. Her eyes got so big, but she didn’t say anything else stupid.Just, “oh, I see”

So here I am, I don’t want all these rxs. And I’m thinking screw it all and I won’t ever go back there. IF my GERD is back, I know how to handle that. I really need to stop eating so damn much at night time and lose this extra weight too. Maybe this is the motivation I need. I’ll do about anything to avoid all these meds. It took me years to recover from having my stomach acid turned off, years of zantac, prilosec, nexxium, protonix, tums, rolaids – ugh I’m not going back there and I don’t want to do that during cold/flu season, we need stomach acid to fight off germs.

At least Hubby responded to my SOS text and called me from work to help calm me while I was crying the van after the doctor. I just needed to release that fear and panic. His call meant a lot to me. I felt so stupid. I know I am safe. I know that doctor isnt going to hurt me, but telling myself that does NOTHING. My body starts responding and all I can do is try to control it and seriously not die. It feels like I am in mortal danger from the nice old doctor knee’s touching my knee.

Now I’m not opposed to taking meds if needed, but I need to try non medical solutions first. I ad no idea that my binge eating could be affecting my allergy and immune system and further reducing my quality of sleep. I’d have to truly hate myself to continue this self harming action, and since I dont hate myself any more I should be able to stop. right?

I so miss my regular therapist. I’d love to run this all by her. I will share with the new one, but I don’t trust her or value her opinion as much. I think she gave me bad advice in not sharing my true feelings right away with Hubby about that massage gift. I should have followed my 3 day rule and told him months ago how I felt. how stupid.