I was just sitting here in a pretzel-fashion as my gut twisting fun has decided to amp up again, and I was, well, pondering. I see the surgeon tomorrow in regards to the CT Scan I had last Friday.
I am prepared to HEAR,
"You have a hernia, it needs repair, let's schedule that, okay?"
I'm even prepared to hear,
"Well, it's bad news, it's broken, there's a tumor, you've been colonized by aliens and you need to take your guts out and place them on the table."
This is what happened in the ER after my XRAY. "You're full of shit. See?" I couldn't really... see, I was half-doped up on morphine.
I avoid doctors, I avoid issues, I hate feeling sick. I've been in a fog of neurological-brain-numbing drugs for the seizures with no diagnosis for so very long, that a new symptom is often ignored.
"What's this new problem? Must be from the drugs. Just read the side of the bottle!"
Have you ever read about the side effects of neurological drugs? Just saying. You didn't need that liver, nor to feel awake, or to not jump off the side of a cliff at any given moment, right? Medication is EVIL.
If I called a doctor every time I had a "concern," I'd never leave their office. I have a hard enough time getting to an appointment as it is -- it's only when I am serious about something wrong. I probably wait too long for many things. I know that. For example, I am overdue for my iron infusions. I know this, I'm bad. Slap me. I actually didn't know I was super anemic again until I was in the ER. But things take precedence in order of pain, you know?
If it appears that there isn't "anything wrong" when I get the results tomorrow -- then? What? More waiting, more phone calls, more pain. "Fun." I'm left feeling like a hypochondriac with the heating pad on my gut. Which makes me want to avoid going to a doctor until blood appears in a dramatic fashion from a bodily orifice. I can do that, but it hurts in the meantime.