diagnose-me.com

Well, it’s time for a medical update. If you’re already bored with my health, please feel free to move onto something more interesting. I shall, however, try to make this fun.

Ho! Ho! Ho! See? Fun, fun, fun…

So. I’ve had the latest set of test results. There’s good news, bad news and very bad news. The good news is: I DON’T have uterine cancer. Yippee! All that bollocksing biopsy wire-brush-whizzed-around-my-doodah pain was for NOTHING! I’m not bitter, really. Oh, no, I’m definitely not incredibly pissed-off that I had to go through all that naked Sudoku puzzling and walking like a cowboy for a week with NO anaesthetic and NO bastarding pain relief for absolutely NO SODDING REASON!

Image by mdanys via Flickr

The bad news: the last set of bloods show I’m low on iron and my ‘rheumatoid factor’ is now borderline positive. Whatever the hell that means! I refuse to Google it; I’m neurotic enough already.

The very bad news: I’m pretty sure I’m being stalked by a toothless road-worker. Let’s just say, somewhere a village is missing its idiot.
Last week  I asked him to move his van from outside my house so I could get my car out. Fine. No problem. But now, whenever I show my face, he’s there, grinning like a gappy-toothed grinning thing. If I put out the dustbin, he’s there! If I walk the dog, he’s there! If I open my bedroom curtains, he’s there! Not there in my room, there in the road – a blur of flourescent yellow construction worker’s jacket, waving and doing that grinning thing. I wore a disguise today and slipped straight past him…

Image via Wikipedia

But I digress. Again.

While I await my specialist endo-whatsit appointment – still six weeks away – I thought we’d play a game. It’s called diagnose-me.com. I’ll list my symptoms, you guess my problem*, and let’s face it, you can’t possibly do any worse than the GP’s I’ve already seen…

*mental health issues aside…

Ready to play doctors and nurses?

Image by Castaway in Scotland via Flickr

  Okay, let’s go!  I have:

• low blood-pressure
• low sodium levels
• low sugar levels
• low iron levels
• high potassium levels
• a borderline positive Rheumatoid Factor (whatever the hell that is!)
• chronic exhaustion – I can (and often do) sleep for 16 hours a day and still feel knackered!
• irregular, heavy periods
• muscle weakness
• shakiness when tired/hungry
• light-headed (That said light, not empty-headed!), faintness
• Muscle cramps, especially in back and stomach.

Apparently my thyroid’s fine and I’m not menopausal. Diagnose-me.com! Go on! Hazard a guess, I dare you!  🙂

NB: If you’ve no idea what I’m talking about, a) join the club, and b) read the back story – Wanna Play Docs and Nurses and Ow! Ow! Owwwwwwww!

Wanna play doctors and nurses?

Image via Wikipedia

Apologies for being so rubbish at posting recently. I’ve had a truly horrible couple of weeks…

First off, the blood test results:

Doc: (I swear to God he isn’t even qualified. I’m sure he’s gone AWOL from the local mental hospital, snatching a stethoscope as he legged it out of the window, but Doc is shorter to type than Annoying-Arrogant-Dickhead-In-White-Coat-With-Stolen-Stethoscope-Wrapped-Around-His-Scrawny-Condescending-Bastarding-Neck.)

Doc: ‘Okay, bloods are fine; you don’t have Addison’s. I can’t find anything wrong with you. Like I said, it’s depression.’

Tiny: ‘Umm…Okay, but  what were the actual results?

Doc: *stares blankly*

Tiny: ‘You know, the actual numbers?’

Doc: *sighs* ‘Baseline was 504. Thirty minutes after cortisol injection was 674. Sixty minutes after injection was 730.’

Tiny: ‘So, my levels didn’t double?’

Doc: ‘No, your levels didn’t double, but your baseline was within normal range, therefore, you do not have Addison’s or any kind of adrenal problem.’

Tiny: ‘Umm… Levels are supposed to double in healthy people. I should have cleared 1,000…’

Doc:’ No! You passed the test! It says so right here! Look! “Normal response”!’

Tiny: ‘With the greatest respect, I know these test results show I have adrenal insufficiency. I need to see an endocrinologist. Preferably before I have a crisis and die.’

Doc: ‘I could prescribe diazepam; you seem anxious.’

Tiny:’ Damn skippy, I’m fucking anxious! I’ve got books to write! I wanna see Eldest son graduate! I wanna see Youngest son through school and off the piggin’ X-Box! I need treatment! I need to get better! I need to stop sleeping sixteen hours a day!’

Doc: ‘Have you ever seen a counsellor about depression?’

Arrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhhhhh!

On the way out I made an appointment with another GP. And if she so much as even thinks the D-word, I’ll give her bloody depression – she’ll be as miserable as I am, when a surgical team has spent three hours trying to remove that shiny stethoscope out of her arse…

Glad that week’s over…

Image by Alegrya via Flickr

What a week! But, hey! I’m still alive! Thank heavens for small mercies and all that crap.

What can I say about Thursday’s tests, except they’re over!  I look like a heroin addict from the all the bruises and needle holes in my arms, but what the hell! I’m not comatose, or twitching on the floor in a state of shock, so that’s a bonus.

It’ll come as no surprise that I was nervous:

‘Umm… I know I’m just a smidge neurotic but, if I do go into shock after this injection, you’re not just gonna leave me to die on the floor of the waiting room, are you?’ I asked the nurse.

‘No, of course not!’ she replied. ‘That’d be far too traumatic for the other patients. And they’d be tripping over you. No, we’d definitely drag you into the corridor before you died.’

Yeah, yeah. All the world’s a stage and everyone’s a comedian, I know…

So I had the first blood test as a baseline, and then the piggin’ jab, and let me tell you, it hurt like a bitch.

And I whimpered like a kitten. I think I cried a bit as well. Don’t judge; it hurt! 

I waited in a waiting room full of flu-germs and incontinence problems, worrying about keeling over on the grubby green carpet, and tried to breathe.

Half an hour later, I heard a voice: ‘Mrs Tiny! Come through, please, if you’re still alive.’

‘Yes!’ I cried. ‘I am still alive! No twinges, no gasping for air, no rolling around on the floor and farting! In fact it was quite boring, just sitting there. I’m almost disappointed, to be honest…’

I went home an hour and a further two blood tests later.

On Friday I had my internal ultrasound thingy. Good news! My bits are still all there! And perfectly normal! I expected them to be atrophied from lack of use, but no! I am intact and healthy! Praise be!

After a quick round of shopping, The Ex and I drove up to Bristol to collect Eldest son for the weekend. And we got to meet The Flatmates! It was terribly exciting and I tried to be Ms Jolly and Cool and Trendy, but I’m pretty sure I came across as Mrs Old and Knackered.

Oh, well. I took beer, I’m sure they’ll love me  😉