Another video blog - a day later than I meant to get out. Oh well! You'll forgive me.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Sunday Confessional: Video Rant the First
So I filmed this a couple of days ago and uploaded it. Consider this an experiment of the vlogging kind. Yes, I am extra incoherent rambly because I was really tired and got sidetracked on what I really wanted to rant about. I'll save it for another day.
If you actually enjoyed this, tell me in the comments and feel free to make suggestions on topics to rant about. Lord knows there are a mega shit ton. Anywho. Enjoy.
If you actually enjoyed this, tell me in the comments and feel free to make suggestions on topics to rant about. Lord knows there are a mega shit ton. Anywho. Enjoy.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Care Overkill and Super Meltdown
Yesterday, on my mother's birthday no less, I blew a gasget. I'd reached my Medical Bullshit Threshold. Let me back pedal.
So, I was hospitalized in April. Thought it was a GI issue, so I went to Santa Monica UCLA where Dr. GI is located. Turned out to be a ruptured cyst with internal bleeding due to blood thinners, so I was transfered to Westwood UCLA. Spent a total of 5 days there.
Had a bit of excess grossness with my GI area, so I went back to my GI. He prescribed some medicine which I am still on, recommended a buddy of his we'll call Dr. 2nd Opinion. I really had no interest in switching doctors, but I thought it was pretty nifty Dr. GI could be humble enough to say, 'This guy is AWESOME-SAUCE in the area you're having issues with, go see him. He's better than me.' So I switched out my follow-up with him to an appointment with Dr. 2nd Opinion, which was this Tuesday.
First. Sigh.
OK, as well-meaning as residents are, 99% of them are dumb as bricks when it comes to doctor-patient relations. Like, they never take the five seconds it would cost them to apply a brain-to-mouth filter on the words flying out of their mouths and how said words might affect the patient. They're so fucking eager to come off as REAL doctors that they think they're being impressive by shooting off their mouths before they have the facts.
Here's my case in point:
Eager Resident to Dr. 2nd Opinion is a nice girl - oh, they're all nice 'cause if they're assholes, I can at least tell them off - but she started asking me about liver transplants and used scary words like cirrhosis and congestive failure.
I told her my liver does NOT have cirrhosis, despite what others assume, because I had a biopsy not one year ago that showed no signs of massive scarring or cirrhosis. She left to confer with Dr. 2nd Opinion and brought back my notes from the biopsy I referenced. Guess what? Cirrhosis-free. So then she told me - get this - that techs will see fluid in tests and just assume it's cirrhosis and write that down in their notes. Which is why I have a mega shit ton of references to cirrhosis in my notes.
Assume.
They assume.
ASSUME?
What. a fucking. liberty.
My brain nearly oozed out of my ears and onto the floor with that revelation, but oops, it was finally time for my actual appointment with the actual doctor - an hour behind, thank you very much. So he comes in - along with this Mystery Hottie Whitecoat who doesn't bother to introduce himself, just hangs back. So I am getting examined by the Dr., Eager Resident and then Mystery Hottie Whitecoat suddenly jumps in - and I stick out my hand and say, "AND YOU ARE?"
Dude. Seriously. What. The. Fuck. I'm a fucking person. Don't put your goddamn hands on me without my consent.
The only person on this planet who gets to touch me without proper introductions is Ben Whishaw, and since I'm about 98% certain he's as gay as the day is long, that ain't gonna happen anytime soon.
Then Dr. 2nd Opinion springs a SURPRISE! in-clinic mini ultrasound test on me. OK. Was not prepared for that. Oh, but he wants a proper ultrasound on my liver, spleen and doppler done. The kind where I have to fast for 8 hours, make a real appointment at my medical facility of choice - oh, and don't forget the follow up appointment I need to make with him to discuss the results.
I made these appointments, but come on. Come on. What the fuck? I've had these tests done. They've been done. They're done. Just. Accept it all, dudebro. Confer with notes (which are clearly never read). I questioned him and the necessity of this test, but he said something something lesion on liver something something just make sure. Like, what about picking up a phone and conferring with the rest of TEAM RACHAEL! to make sure the lesion isn't there? Well. Whatever. So I got some blood drawn, made the follow-up appointment and faxed the order for the ultrasound. MORE days to come out to the West side. Jooooooy.
Then. Yesterday happened.
So, in light of the cyst debacle, I'd been taken off my blood thinner. It was comical that the idiots in the Coumadin Clinic at UCLA rang me up to harass me for getting my INR check when it happened the first time around. It was a simple explanation on my part, a grumble at improper notes by the lady who called, and a laugh we shared. Good times.
Then yesterday I get another call. From an irate bitch at the Coumadin Clinic. Telling me my INR was low. Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me. I explained to her what had happened - and this woman had the audacity to INTERROGATE me about the authenticity of my story.
It went something like this:
Me: I'm not on coumadin anymore. I had a cyst rupture, I was bleeding internally and I was hospitalized for like five days.
Her: When?
Me: This was last month, April. Over a month ago.
Her: Well, which physcian took you off?!
Me: To be honest, all of them, but Dr. A sanctioned it.
Her: Well, which hospital did you go to?
Me: UCLA. I started at Santa Monica, but I was there for 24 hours before being transferred to Westwood.
Her: *huffing and puffing, running out of steam* Well why didn't they put it in the notes!
Me: I was called by the clinic about three weeks ago and we had this exact conversation, so I don't know why it isn't there. It should be.
Her: *fussing and grumbling AT ME* Blah blah bitch bitch....(pause) (mumbles) Oh, there it is. Stopped coumadin April 12th.
Me: Justified.
What the HELL is with people not bothering to read the mother fucking notes? Did these people just coast through school on memory alone? It's like their professors said, "Hey, class, since I am SO awesome, I am going to give you an open book and open notes test!"
And these people just kick back, all cocky like and say, "Nope. Don't need 'em."
And FAIL.
After that I tried unsuccessfully to schedule my ultrasound on a day when I'd be down in the area anyway so I wouldn't have to waste another day there. I looked at my calendar and realized I would be down at UCLA 3 times over a 7 day period. Nope, nope, nope. I hit my threshold and lost my shit.
I got authorization to cancel one appointment (a follow up with the Lady Doctor) but I put TEAM RACHAEL! on the case of this test, asked them to dig around in notes and tell me if this shit is necessary or just some doctor feeding his own ego.
People wonder why I can't have a life. This.
This is why I can't have a life.
So, I was hospitalized in April. Thought it was a GI issue, so I went to Santa Monica UCLA where Dr. GI is located. Turned out to be a ruptured cyst with internal bleeding due to blood thinners, so I was transfered to Westwood UCLA. Spent a total of 5 days there.
Had a bit of excess grossness with my GI area, so I went back to my GI. He prescribed some medicine which I am still on, recommended a buddy of his we'll call Dr. 2nd Opinion. I really had no interest in switching doctors, but I thought it was pretty nifty Dr. GI could be humble enough to say, 'This guy is AWESOME-SAUCE in the area you're having issues with, go see him. He's better than me.' So I switched out my follow-up with him to an appointment with Dr. 2nd Opinion, which was this Tuesday.
First. Sigh.
OK, as well-meaning as residents are, 99% of them are dumb as bricks when it comes to doctor-patient relations. Like, they never take the five seconds it would cost them to apply a brain-to-mouth filter on the words flying out of their mouths and how said words might affect the patient. They're so fucking eager to come off as REAL doctors that they think they're being impressive by shooting off their mouths before they have the facts.
Here's my case in point:
Eager Resident to Dr. 2nd Opinion is a nice girl - oh, they're all nice 'cause if they're assholes, I can at least tell them off - but she started asking me about liver transplants and used scary words like cirrhosis and congestive failure.
I told her my liver does NOT have cirrhosis, despite what others assume, because I had a biopsy not one year ago that showed no signs of massive scarring or cirrhosis. She left to confer with Dr. 2nd Opinion and brought back my notes from the biopsy I referenced. Guess what? Cirrhosis-free. So then she told me - get this - that techs will see fluid in tests and just assume it's cirrhosis and write that down in their notes. Which is why I have a mega shit ton of references to cirrhosis in my notes.
Assume.
They assume.
ASSUME?
What. a fucking. liberty.
My brain nearly oozed out of my ears and onto the floor with that revelation, but oops, it was finally time for my actual appointment with the actual doctor - an hour behind, thank you very much. So he comes in - along with this Mystery Hottie Whitecoat who doesn't bother to introduce himself, just hangs back. So I am getting examined by the Dr., Eager Resident and then Mystery Hottie Whitecoat suddenly jumps in - and I stick out my hand and say, "AND YOU ARE?"
Dude. Seriously. What. The. Fuck. I'm a fucking person. Don't put your goddamn hands on me without my consent.
The only person on this planet who gets to touch me without proper introductions is Ben Whishaw, and since I'm about 98% certain he's as gay as the day is long, that ain't gonna happen anytime soon.
Then Dr. 2nd Opinion springs a SURPRISE! in-clinic mini ultrasound test on me. OK. Was not prepared for that. Oh, but he wants a proper ultrasound on my liver, spleen and doppler done. The kind where I have to fast for 8 hours, make a real appointment at my medical facility of choice - oh, and don't forget the follow up appointment I need to make with him to discuss the results.
I made these appointments, but come on. Come on. What the fuck? I've had these tests done. They've been done. They're done. Just. Accept it all, dudebro. Confer with notes (which are clearly never read). I questioned him and the necessity of this test, but he said something something lesion on liver something something just make sure. Like, what about picking up a phone and conferring with the rest of TEAM RACHAEL! to make sure the lesion isn't there? Well. Whatever. So I got some blood drawn, made the follow-up appointment and faxed the order for the ultrasound. MORE days to come out to the West side. Jooooooy.
Then. Yesterday happened.
So, in light of the cyst debacle, I'd been taken off my blood thinner. It was comical that the idiots in the Coumadin Clinic at UCLA rang me up to harass me for getting my INR check when it happened the first time around. It was a simple explanation on my part, a grumble at improper notes by the lady who called, and a laugh we shared. Good times.
Then yesterday I get another call. From an irate bitch at the Coumadin Clinic. Telling me my INR was low. Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me. I explained to her what had happened - and this woman had the audacity to INTERROGATE me about the authenticity of my story.
It went something like this:
Me: I'm not on coumadin anymore. I had a cyst rupture, I was bleeding internally and I was hospitalized for like five days.
Her: When?
Me: This was last month, April. Over a month ago.
Her: Well, which physcian took you off?!
Me: To be honest, all of them, but Dr. A sanctioned it.
Her: Well, which hospital did you go to?
Me: UCLA. I started at Santa Monica, but I was there for 24 hours before being transferred to Westwood.
Her: *huffing and puffing, running out of steam* Well why didn't they put it in the notes!
Me: I was called by the clinic about three weeks ago and we had this exact conversation, so I don't know why it isn't there. It should be.
Her: *fussing and grumbling AT ME* Blah blah bitch bitch....(pause) (mumbles) Oh, there it is. Stopped coumadin April 12th.
Me: Justified.
What the HELL is with people not bothering to read the mother fucking notes? Did these people just coast through school on memory alone? It's like their professors said, "Hey, class, since I am SO awesome, I am going to give you an open book and open notes test!"
And these people just kick back, all cocky like and say, "Nope. Don't need 'em."
And FAIL.
After that I tried unsuccessfully to schedule my ultrasound on a day when I'd be down in the area anyway so I wouldn't have to waste another day there. I looked at my calendar and realized I would be down at UCLA 3 times over a 7 day period. Nope, nope, nope. I hit my threshold and lost my shit.
I got authorization to cancel one appointment (a follow up with the Lady Doctor) but I put TEAM RACHAEL! on the case of this test, asked them to dig around in notes and tell me if this shit is necessary or just some doctor feeding his own ego.
People wonder why I can't have a life. This.
This is why I can't have a life.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
The power of free food and booze compels me!
My stomach was healing well last week. I had a few off days, Thursday in particular, but I chocked it up to walking a lot the day before and perhaps pushing myself too far too soon. However, I've grown steadily worse, or worse-ish and nothing seems to be working out for me. It's not pain, per say - just discomfort. Constant discomfort in my lower abdomen. The left side in particular hurts more, a certain area being hard as a rock. I'm unsure what the hell is going on, but I do know one thing: I'll be damned if I am going to miss another function over this bullshit.
It's not so bad that I need to race to the ER again, so I'll tide myself over the weekend and give him a ring on Monday.
The discomfort is hindering my ability to eat properly and get shit accomplished. Everything takes double the amount of time it ought to, and I have a serious work-related deadline. I wanted so very badly to have a guest blog done in time for a friend who went through a major surgery and I haven't even been able to finish that :( It makes me feel like a failure when I can't deliver on something I had ages to get done.
Anyway. I want these stomach issues resolved. Summer is nearly here and I'd like to make some plans - be it traveling or earning some cash to travel. Let's all hope for the best.
It's not so bad that I need to race to the ER again, so I'll tide myself over the weekend and give him a ring on Monday.
The discomfort is hindering my ability to eat properly and get shit accomplished. Everything takes double the amount of time it ought to, and I have a serious work-related deadline. I wanted so very badly to have a guest blog done in time for a friend who went through a major surgery and I haven't even been able to finish that :( It makes me feel like a failure when I can't deliver on something I had ages to get done.
Anyway. I want these stomach issues resolved. Summer is nearly here and I'd like to make some plans - be it traveling or earning some cash to travel. Let's all hope for the best.
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Why I Have Been Quiet
Hello.
Yes, atrocious upkeep. My apologies. I always mean to get back to this blog, but something always holds me back. Whether it is forgetfulness (a good 40% of why I do not post), laziness (I'd say another 40%), or fearfulness (the remaining 20%), there really is no good excuse.
The fearfulness may come as a shock to some of you, perhaps. I do hold quite the illusion of being incomparable to the perils of fear and insecurities when it comes to discussing my health. Truthfully, the visit to Philadelphia and my tour of the Children's Hospital of Philly (not coincidentally when this blog fell silent) really shook me up. I have made several attempts to adequately describe what went on, and how I felt, but all of them have fell rather flat. I might make one more attempt. I hope - for the sake of the lovely PR woman who organized that whole thing for me - that I pull through.
The fear that holds me back from updating this blog so often, and being so open, is that I will share too much of myself with the world. Telling you about my health is not always telling you about me. In fact, it most assuredly is not telling you about me much at all. I put on a very good show for everyone, get a few laughs hopefully, and move on. Take a bow. A few air kisses. Applause, applause. The end.
You don't see me. It's all a slight of hand. Or words, rather.
Anyway, I will give you the most recent update:
I am at a junction in life right now and I am trying to decide which path to travel down.
The first is Responsibility: To forgo any travel plans and have my pacemaker surgery, thus giving up the next three months to recovery time.
The second is Travel: I recently found out that I may travel up to 60 days out of the country. Why I was not told this originally, and why I was too lazy/scared to find out this info last year is not something I want to dwell on; what matters is I can go, I want to go and I want to be out of here as often and as long as money will permit. I had planned on going to a couple of countries - through helpx.net - and the one family I was very much hoping to stay with never replied. Sadness. I lost a bit of momentum for my sojourn, but I still would like to go.
So the question is: Do I go and have another adventure, or do I stay and be responsible? Get my pacemaker changed so I do not have to worry about it crapping out on me in another country; or go now while I have a good chunk of time? I am also a Maid of Honor for a wedding next August; I feel if I postpone my trip until next year, I will be putting my friend through some stress she ought not to go through alone as I am one of the key planners.
There are many Pros and Cons for either decision, and with a recent bout in the hospital I am finding especially pressed for an end to this. TEAM RACHAEL! has given me the all-clear to travel, and they are leaving the ultimate choice to me.
On one hand, I feel patience is a virtue and more money and energy will be accumulated for a trip in 2014. On the other hand, I am weary of being home, and I feel I should seize any opportunity that comes my way.
Yes, atrocious upkeep. My apologies. I always mean to get back to this blog, but something always holds me back. Whether it is forgetfulness (a good 40% of why I do not post), laziness (I'd say another 40%), or fearfulness (the remaining 20%), there really is no good excuse.
The fearfulness may come as a shock to some of you, perhaps. I do hold quite the illusion of being incomparable to the perils of fear and insecurities when it comes to discussing my health. Truthfully, the visit to Philadelphia and my tour of the Children's Hospital of Philly (not coincidentally when this blog fell silent) really shook me up. I have made several attempts to adequately describe what went on, and how I felt, but all of them have fell rather flat. I might make one more attempt. I hope - for the sake of the lovely PR woman who organized that whole thing for me - that I pull through.
The fear that holds me back from updating this blog so often, and being so open, is that I will share too much of myself with the world. Telling you about my health is not always telling you about me. In fact, it most assuredly is not telling you about me much at all. I put on a very good show for everyone, get a few laughs hopefully, and move on. Take a bow. A few air kisses. Applause, applause. The end.
You don't see me. It's all a slight of hand. Or words, rather.
Anyway, I will give you the most recent update:
I am at a junction in life right now and I am trying to decide which path to travel down.
The first is Responsibility: To forgo any travel plans and have my pacemaker surgery, thus giving up the next three months to recovery time.
The second is Travel: I recently found out that I may travel up to 60 days out of the country. Why I was not told this originally, and why I was too lazy/scared to find out this info last year is not something I want to dwell on; what matters is I can go, I want to go and I want to be out of here as often and as long as money will permit. I had planned on going to a couple of countries - through helpx.net - and the one family I was very much hoping to stay with never replied. Sadness. I lost a bit of momentum for my sojourn, but I still would like to go.
So the question is: Do I go and have another adventure, or do I stay and be responsible? Get my pacemaker changed so I do not have to worry about it crapping out on me in another country; or go now while I have a good chunk of time? I am also a Maid of Honor for a wedding next August; I feel if I postpone my trip until next year, I will be putting my friend through some stress she ought not to go through alone as I am one of the key planners.
There are many Pros and Cons for either decision, and with a recent bout in the hospital I am finding especially pressed for an end to this. TEAM RACHAEL! has given me the all-clear to travel, and they are leaving the ultimate choice to me.
On one hand, I feel patience is a virtue and more money and energy will be accumulated for a trip in 2014. On the other hand, I am weary of being home, and I feel I should seize any opportunity that comes my way.
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