crazy pills?

I was talking with a graduate student in my program today and medical stuff came up. She’s had a run of bad health in the last few years – being diagnosed as needing heart surgery and then had acute and quite bad GI episode (likely due to or exacerbated by a series of intestine slowing drugs a presumably well intentioned but apparently moronic provider put her on). She’s finally coming through the worst of it, got herself a good set of doctors, but is now dealing with the aftermath. Good lord do I know about aftermath. And the “waiting for the other shoe” feeling that’s always lurking.

As we were talking, she mentioned that she’s found it unbelievably difficult to find a good doctor here in our state. Here I thought it was just me. I had chalked my impressions about the current state I live in and the difficulty to find providers who were not jerks from the word “go” or marginally competent up to various subjective experience – such as my having been married to a doctor, the daughter (and niece, and granddaughter) of a nurse, or being a hospital staff member (and thus able to get the low down on a variety of doctors and practices). But here it seems my impression is shared by someone who has no such history, other than her also having lived in a state other than this one.

So let me just say, for the record, I’m not on crazy pills. Connecticut sucks for doctors and I can’t wait to MOVE out of this miserable state. I guess if I had to put my finger on a probable reason, I’d say it’s something like a population, community, and government overrun with rich, socially apathetic people do not attract good residents, be they medical or otherwise.


Still on the prednisone. I think I’d like to stop but I guess I’m supposed to taper. I haven’t been on it long, although it’s a high dose and I suppose better safe than sorry. I’m ready to be done with it though. Yes, my hip feels excellent. My gut hasn’t felt this well in some time, and so far (knock on wood) I haven’t had a single GI side effect from the prednisone.

However….every evening something starts up where my neck, shoulders, and upper back are just killing, and all along my lymph nodes is so sore I feel like they’re going to pop. My primary care thinks the pred might have unmasked a minor tonsilitis/sinusitis thing. Sure, why not. My tonsils are of the chronic variety, plus it hurts in all the likely places so that explanation fits. But man, it feels like having a head cold on steroids. (that was a joke, get it?)

And so I’ve about had it with looking fabulous and feeling shitty. I’ll take looking shitty and feeling less shitty, really. However, that’s not entirely why I’m blogging. I’m blogging because I just got a health-reduced lifestyle related smack upside the head and it’s making me feel totally toxic. I need to get this out somewhere, and well, here’s this blog waiting for things to be put into it so what the hell.

I think I’ve blogged about this or related issues in the past here. I’m not sure. I know I linked to Christine Miserandino’s excellent essay, The Spoon Theory, (read it!!!) on the topic of the additive and preemptive ways you limit and are limited when you have chronic, as in daily, health issues. As it plays out over life, the consequences are further reaching than just the things you can’t do. I’ve particularly struggled with the frustration and sometimes near grief over the things I was planning to do but had to cancel. It gets so discouraging sometimes I will simply avoid making plans so I won’t have to deal with canceling them.

On top of my own feelings, which are varied and strong, about cancellations, avoidance, or other manifestations of wellness related limitations, I deal with the feelings and reactions of the people around me. Sometimes these fall short of supportive. E.g., I found out today a family member believes that when I limit myself, I am in fact just fine but would rather not do whatever it is I had planned to do, what I wanted to do, or what this family member wanted me to do.

At the moment, this bit of news leaves me immensely frustrated, discouraged, and disappointed.

Feel bad, look great

I recently have discovered that although I kinda feel like shit on prednisone, I look good while I’m on it. This may be the beauty secret find of the season. The low grade fevers I’ve been running since day three have added a rosy glow to my otherwise normal pallor. And the facial bloating is at a level where it has just filled in a bit of the normally over-deep hollows under my cheekbones giving me a fuller, more sensual look.

Still, I am not looking forward to my next dose.