It's a GAD GAD World
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Thanks Sherry for your response.

I've actually been feeling pretty good these past few weeks. Whether or not it has anything to do with me chewing my p-doc a new ass, I can't say for sure.

Then Thursday night my boss took me out for a steak dinner as thanks for a gargantuan project I managed almost single-handedly. The dinner went ok, but I got home kinda late. It screwed up my sleep routine a bit, and as a result I woke up at 3:30am on Friday & couldn't get back to sleep. Got up at 6am as usual, & felt ok till lunchtime. Then my brain just shut down despite the caffeine I'd consumed at lunch. I was nodding off at my desk & couldn't wait to get home just so I could pop some remeron & crash.

Then I got home, & popped 1/8 of a remeron, & waited for it to kick in. And waited. And waited. Nothing. I should have been dead to the world within 2 hours, but I wasn't. Finally around midnight I did my doxepin & that helped me crash. I fell asleep sometime after 12:30 & woke up this morning around 9:30.

Last night when I wasn't fidgety I was kinda weepy. I'm hoping that this was just fatigue & not a sign of a downward spiral. And I hope my fatigue doesn't CAUSE a downward spiral. We shall see over the next few days...

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

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Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Sorry it took me a couple of days to post this. I was exhausted after I got home Monday (the day of my appt), & I went out last night & didn't get back until late.

Here's how the whole thing went down:

3:40pm: I arrived at the office for my 4pm appt.

4:10pm: P-doc's secretary came out & said the p-doc needs "just 10 more minutes".

4:30pm: Receptionist at the desk asked me how much longer I'd been asked to wait. I replied, "About 20 minutes ago I was told I'd have to wait 10 minutes." Receptionist got up & went to where the p-doc was, apologizing profusely. I said, "It's not your fault." Which it wasn't.

4:35: Receptionist told me I could go into the p-doc's office & sit down. I entered the room and sat alone.

4:40: P-doc walked in. "Hi, how are you?" Before I could even open my mouth to respond, she was calling for her secretary to bring her some soy milk. She said to me, "I haven't had anything to drink since this morning. How are you?"

"I'll wait until you get your soy milk."

The secretary walked in with 2 different types of soy milk. After a 2-3 minute discussion over which soy milk the p-doc wanted, Secretary walked out & we were finally alone. Again she asked, "So how are you?"

I started to speak. "Over the past few months I've become increasingly uncomfortable--"

"Wait, let me get a pen so I can take notes."

I reached into my bag, pulled out a squirt gun, & shot her twice. Right between the eyes.

"What are you doing?!"

"I'd like you to listen to me, please."

"I'm listening!"

"No, you're not! You're looking for a pen, you're rummaging all over your desk, you're drinking your soy milk, you've got 20 million different things going on. Every fucking appointment I have with you, you do this."

P-doc finally stopped moving and looked at me.

"As I was saying, I've been growing increasingly uncomfortable, frustrated, disgusted, and angry over the way you've been managing my treatment. As much as I would love to tell you to go fuck yourself, walk out of here, and never come back, my financial situation & my insurance situation will not allow me to do that."

P-doc opened her mouth. I waved the squirt gun at her, not firing it. She closed her mouth.

"So from now on, I want to set some ground rules. Rule number one: You are NEVER doing any lab work on me ever AGAIN! If there's something going on that you think needs to be checked out, I will contact my PCP and she will do whatever lab work needs to be done. But you are not doing it."

"Which leads me to number two. I don't rely on my dentist to tell me when to get a Pap smear [THANK YOU JANE!], and I will not rely on you to tell me how to manage my cholesterol, which is fine, by the way, or my weight. While my weight may not be what YOU think it should be, I am physically healthy. HEALTHY! And I have the labs to prove it. If and when a problem develops that is directly attributable to my weight, I will take steps under the guidance of my PCP to resolve the problem. Not you. If YOU have a problem with the size of my ass, you can kiss it!"

"Number three, if you can't be on time for an appointment, I would appreciate it if you would please refrain from attempting to bullshit with me. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't mind having a nice friendly adult conversation with you. But what you utterly fail to realize is that by the time I've been cooling my heels in your office for 30, 60, even 90 minutes, I don't want to waste my time bullshitting. I want to come in here, I want to get my issues on the table, I want to get my meds and my prescriptions if I need them, & I want to get the hell out of here and go home. If you want to spend time talking to me, then you're going to have to do a better job of managing your time."

"Finally, I'd appreciate it if you'd please stop talking about other patients in front of me. I don't want to hear about penises [she has a pt who likes to expose himself], I don't want to hear about rashes [she has another pt who's convinced she has a throat rash]. Not only is it highly unprofessional, but this is not what the Red Cross & my insurance company are paying you to do. I realize that because of circumstances that are beyond your control, it's difficult for you to focus on anything for 20-30 minutes. But during your appointments, your mind should be on the patient in front of you, and not on all of your other patients."

"Now, since I know you have the attention span of a gnat & can't retain anything for longer than 10 minutes, I've written these rules down for you." I rummaged into my bag for the printout. "My name doesn't appear anywhere on this, so I would suggest that you place this somewhere prominent where you'll see it every day. Because if you're pulling this crap on me, you're probably pulling it on your other patients too. And WE. DESERVE. BETTER."

I handed her the paper. I picked up my backpack. And walked out the door. She never said a word to me. By 4:45pm I was back on the street headed for home.

But before I left the office I scheduled an appt for February with one of the nurse practitioners in the office. I'll ask her advice as to what I should do next. And we'll go from there.

So whaddaya think, people? Are you proud of me?

Monday, January 15, 2007
Actually more like four if I'm running on p-doc time.

I typed out what I want to say. I'm going to say it. Then I'm going to give her what I've written since she has the attention span of a gnat & can't recall anything.

My stomach is doing flip-flops as I type this. I plan to do some klonopin before I leave, then some xanax before I walk into her office. Wish me luck everyone & cross your fingers that I don't chicken out.

Sunday, January 14, 2007
In approximately 24 hours, I will be on my way to my p-doc's office, mentally preparing myself to raise hell & not chicken out about it. I'm actually considering the option of taking a squirt gun with me so I can blast her with it if she tries to interrupt me. With her ADD, it might actually help her stay focused.

And in response to Jane's latest comment: I'm already walking, honey. The distance between Port Authority & the building where I work is approximately a 30-minute walk. There is a subway line that would save me part of that walk, but when you factor in the time standing on the platform waiting for the train to come, it only shaves about 5 minutes off my commute. So I always walk it unless the weather is really crappy or I'm feeling seriously sick, partially to save money and partially for the exercise. So that's 30 minutes of light cardio twice a day, 5 days a week. Then the nearest grocery store to my apartment is a 15-20 minute walk. So I'm getting in a shitload of walking.

For some strange reason I'm actually feeling pretty good this week, despite what I'm going to have to do tomorrow. I think I'm going to work on my lecture now.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007
I just got home from work. In my mail was a little notecard from my doctor with some of my blood results written on it. (The results I got a couple of days ago were the actual pages of the lab report with no further commentary.) On the notecard my PCP had written: "Good. This is acceptable."

OK, so maybe I'm not a slobby disgusting pig after all. This makes me feel a lot less guilty about the pizza I ate on the way home.

Monday, January 08, 2007
This is going to be short, because I should have been in bed 1/2 an hour ago & my Ambien is starting to kick in.

Got my blood results back. Here are the numbers:

LDL: 139
HDL: 45

Like I said, the verdict is in. I am officially a fat, slobby heart attack waiting to happen.

Remind me never to eat ice cream again.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007
I'll explain why this is a happy day in a minute.

First, Jane had a comment for my STRIKE ONE post. She asked me not to post it, which is why it doesn't appear in the Comments section, but she said I could post part of it. Here's what she says, in part:

Hi! You are correct about the cholesterol must fast from 12 to 14 hours before.(only water is permitted) I am an RN (13 years- don't blame me), and checked my labs books, and you are correct!
Also, anything that you eat within 2 weeks of the test may influence the results ( like the time I ate a big greasy sausage biscuit from Bojangles the day before) I got quite a sick giggle from the horrified expression on the doc's face as he snarled about my labs, tried to put me on Lipitor and then I politely thanked him, nodded, took the little paper. (Then I ditched it into file 13, IE the trashcan in the reception area, and went about things my way as usual). I use garlic, kwai tabs are good (drugstore) , its odorless. I also eat that heart smart blueberry oatmeal from quaker about 3-4X per week. No more frying,I avoid Bojangles and I bake or broil. It does get better...screw all their pills (in my opinion). I would dump her, but that (also is) my opinion...The nurse practioners may just be your ticket, what could it hurt? P-doc sounds like she needs her own trip on the damn couch. I feel for you...Overweight is Ok, Healthy is excellent ( wish I had some of that), P-doc needs to write herself some scripts and then, go visit one of her doesn' t tell me when to get a damn Pap smear. P-doc...her job is your mind, not your body.

Right on, Jane! I KNEW my p-doc was nuts! I may just use some of those words when I have my appt with her in less than 2 weeks. "I don't rely on my dentist to tell me when to get a damn Pap smear, and I'm not relying on you to control my cholesterol!" (Bitch!)'s why today is a happy day. I came into work this morning & the first person I saw was one of my colleagues. She asked me if I had checked my email yet. I said no, I just got here. Then my colleague broke the news: My evil co-worker from hell is leaving.

Her last day is Friday. (That's the day after tomorrow.) And since we work in separate buildings now, there is a very strong possibility that I will never see that ass-kissing neanderthal ever again. YEEEEEEEEHHAAAAAAAA!!!!

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