My Off Week

Friday I started feeling bad. Worse than normal. Saturday I had to come into “town” to run a few errands, and as soon as I got back I went straight into chilling mode. I was exhausted. Sunday, I was on my way to meet my parents, but went to a walk in clinic instead. Apparently these places vary, and mine is the “treat your exact complaint, but do no further tests or investigation” type, so I got an anti-viral to stop the spread of the sores (you can’t cure them) and that was that. I spent 3 days in bed.

Wednesday morning I finally got in with my regular doctor. She is awesome and knows my deal, so A) she does her job and B) she takes me seriously. They did a pee test which they said came back fine and a CBC blood test that they also said (much later that day) came back fine.

I spent Wednesday at my parents’ house because it is closer to the doctor and closer to my parents (even when they are at work) in case stuff got worse. Plus they have way fewer stairs than me and that was kicking my sick butt. Wednesday evening I made my mom take me to the ER so I could get a full set of tests done and make sure there wasn’t anything seriously wrong with my insides.

The ER did blood tests, the CBC and also stuff that measures how active the Crohn’s is. The doctor sent off for a West Nile Virus test, just in case, since I’d been bitten to death in Maryland recently where there were some cases reported. They told me that there are new guidelines to limit radiation exposure, and as a result they didn’t want to do a CT scan unless they had to, so we did an ultrasound first.

Which I hate. I’ve debated going into details, and if you ever go out drinking with me maybe I’ll tell you, but for now let’s just say I hate this test for a lot of good reasons. If you’ve had the same then you know what I mean and if not then you can remain as blissfully ignorant as I was when I walked into my first one. I got a super nice tech though and that really does help. It’s also cool because she explained things to me as she was taking the pictures, why she kept going back to the same spot, hoping the picture would change…

The picture never changed the way she wanted it to, because it seems like I have inflammation in both the right and left sides of my reproductive system. I’ve had trouble with the left for several years now, but (because my insides have been so hacked up already) my surgeon basically forbade surgery unless it was an actually emergency. So the right side is a new thing. And they mentioned infertility.

[I’m 30. I’m not dating. When I was dating the guy I thought I would marry, we both admitted to not wanting kids. I still don’t want kids. I like kids. I don’t want my own. It’s probably not a great idea to pass on my wonderful genes and by the time I’m in a kid-having situation, it’d be sorta silly to have babies. However, if I ever have a midlife crisis and need kids, I don’t have any hangups about adoption.]

They did find a bladder infection which doesn’t feel like any UTI I’ve ever had. And you’ll remember my doctor said that test came out clean. So I’m on antibiotics now too.

My ultrasound pictures were mailed to my gynecologist and I’m hoping she can call me back and let me know if we need to do something. Or if there is anything that can be done. While I’m not worried about fertility, I do not want to have to be on hormone replacement the rest of my life. I also don’t want stuff left in to get infected and cause me additional pain.

I’m hoping she calls soon and that everything gets figured out.

Laughing in the ER

Today I was listening to an old Nerdist podcast with Mike Birbiglia. Birbiglia, a comedian, was telling a story about telling jokes about cancer. He was explaining how sometimes it was stressful to tell jokes about such a touchy subject. He went on to explain that often said axiom that a lot of comedians “are people who had to make things funny at home,” had to make uncomfortable situations funny as a way to cope.

This made me think of an experience I’ve had a few times.

Typically when I go to the ER, it’s because I’m in terrible pain and I usually get tests done to see if everything is okay, some pain medication to ease my suffering, and am then sent home and told to follow up with my doctor. That’s what happens when they don’t find anything bad in the tests, obviously.

Nearly every time I go to the ER, my mom goes with me (usually she’s driving). There is a lot of waiting involved in an ER visit, and typically even if you are back in a room, there’s no TV, or nothing good on and it’s just boring. Plus after several hours of being in pain, plus a car trip that can be up to an hour long (I don’t go to my local ER – that’s another story), I can get a little loopy.

So we normally joke around. It helps pass the time, and it helps take the edge off a not fun situation.

I’ve had doctors and/or nurses flat out say that I couldn’t possibly be in that much pain because I was laughing. Like pain means you have to be wailing and gnashing your teeth and writing around on the floor every fricking second? Because I’ve also had an experience when I was in a ton of pain and was told that I needed to be quiet because I was disrupting the other patients in the doctor’s office.

So, I guess it is a no win situation. But I’m not going to stop joking around, or even laughing whenever possible. Because if I’m going to be treated weirdly no matter which way I behave, then I’d rather try my best to make the situation more comfortable for myself.