A doctor's appointment so bad, it gets its own blog! (Dr. House...we need you!)

 

Good day everyone!

So I was going to get a "Five for Friday" going about my day yesterday, and I had it all written in my head.  Until I had to go to the ear doctor...again...and emerged from that so angry I nearly crapped my pants on the way home. I'm not even kidding.

WARNING:  This post MAY include Rated R language as my internal speaker is not what one would call a good Christian girl with a clean mouth. No, my internal speaker is a 1940's sailor on shore leave after about six shots of the local alcoholic brew. This is really going to be more of a manifesto rant than a blog.  I'm not kidding...do not let the kiddies read this.

If you are offended by the verbal vulgarity arts, I suggest you not continue reading this.

Okay, so here's how this went down. (And I'm using actual notes from my actual MyChart, so...you know...I'm not making this up.)

On May 12 of this year, I went to urgent care because my ear was plugged and I was having a hard time hearing.  Below are some of the notes from that appointment:

Patient is a 87-year-old female who presents with right ear fullness and pressure for a week and a half prior to arrival. She reports feeling that her hearing is muffled and underwater. She feels there is pressure inside of her ear. Last week she had ear pain which resolved.

Right Ear: No drainage, swelling or tenderness. A middle ear effusion is present. There is no impacted cerumen. No foreign body. No mastoid tenderness. No hemotympanum. Tympanic membrane is not injected or erythematous.

Okay, I'm not 87, I'm 57, but that can be forgiven. I've had issues with itchy ears for years and this was the first doctor who actually listened to me and wrote me a referral for not just an ENT, but also an Alergist and a Dermatologist. This doctor suggested I take a number of decongestants and wait and see if the ear opened up on its own, as they tend to do this time of year because seasonal allergies, (which I have only recently started experiencing) are so big right now.

Thusly it was that I found myself at the office of an ENT on May 21 of this year. Below are some of the notes from that appointment:

A 57 y.o. female who I am asked to see at the request of who comes in with a plugged right ear with decreased hearing over the last couple of weeks. She was seen in urgent care and told to come here for fluid in her ear. She has not had a history of fluid in her ear. She has some mild allergies. She has a history of obstructive sleep apnea.

There is a middle ear effusion on the right. Discussed options with the patient what she wanted proceed with a myringotomy so right myringotomy was performed under topical phenol anesthesia under the microscope. Serous fluid was obtained from the middle ear. She notes dramatic improvement. Left ear was clear. Nasal exam unremarkable. Oral cavity pharynx clear. Neck exam negative for mass or adenopathy.

I'd like to point out that while he got my age right, he did NOT look at my left ear, my throat, my nose or anything other than my right ear. (I'm reading the clinical notes for the first time as I write this.) for those of you not familiar, a myringotomy is where the "doctor" (I'll be using quotation marks when referring to this fartnozzle now.) sticks a needle with a sponge of numbing meds in your ear. That burns like a BITCH for about 5 seconds. Then it's gone and he sticks another needle, this time combined with a vacuum cleaner, deep into the ear and cuts a hole in the eardrum and sucks out fluid. Yes, I did feel improvement which last all the way back to my car in the parking lot and the ear closed up again.

I contact the office and they said it was a process, and would take time for the ear to fully drain.  For a couple days a lovely yellow goo would flood out of my ear without warning. Super fun when one is at work.

Being a good girl, one taught to respect my elders, especially "doctors," I waited as I was told to wait.  I waited until the oozing stopped, the ear was still plugged, and my hearing got worse. But at least it hurt now, so that's great.

I went in on June 10.  Below are the notes: 

Explained options including a repeat myringotomy versus tube placement as she proceeded with the myringotomy. A right myringotomy was performed and the topical anesthesia with phenol. Serous fluid was obtained from the middle ear. Tympanic membrane was somewhat thickened. She noticed immediate relief.

Now, what's important here are things the "doctor" did NOT put in the notes. Like, how I asked him what he should do, another draining, or put in the tube. He said, "wait and let's drain it again, and see if that works."

He also used the word "infection" TWICE in the appointment. Now, I don't know about you, but the word "infection" especially when combined with "ear" means antibiotics. I didn't say anything in the appointment, because one's brain is not all that clear immediately after having needles and vacuum cleaners shoved deep into the ear. But I messaged the "doctor's" office again the next day:

Hello! it didnt click with me yesterday when i was in the office but Dr. Kass used the word "infection" twice. If I have an ear infection shouldn't I be on antibiotics? thanks, have a great evening.

The response was neither quick nor clear:

Your ear has fluid in it but this is not an actual acute infection which is why you are not on antibiotics. Treatment is drainage of the fluid. If the fluid recurs we would then place a tube. There is no acute infection requiring antibiotics but rather just a plugged eustachian tube.

That brings us to yesterday...June 17. I was already pretty fragile, for reasons we'll cover in my next Five for Friday. So when I called on Monday the 16th to schedule I was very clear that I wanted the tube in my ear. I was done fooling around with this. (Note: My portion of these appointments has been $120 each for the first two. Another thing to consider. Also, since when I can I get in to an ENT just any time I want? Can someone say "BIG STUPID RED FLAG?"

So I get to the "doctors" office. I get in the chair, we chat nicely for a moment. He shoves the stinging sponge in there and then begins 20 minutes of what I would call a mining expedition.

20 minutes of poking, drilling, cutting, and draining. Fun fact, the numbing agent that stings for five seconds really only works for about three minutes. So I started gripping the arm rests and pressing into the chair, as one does when one wants to stay still, but is experiencing extreme and sharp pain.

"Doctor" says, "oh does that hurt?"

As a wise friend said when I told her this story, "No shit, Sherlock."

More numbing, more stinging, only this time he didn't wait for it to take full effect, so more drilling, more sucking, more screeching sounds in my ear, more pain.

"Your ear drum is really thick. I'm going to try cutting it in a different spot."

Spoiler...THAT DIDN'T WORK!

Okay, here are the notes:

Patient comes in for follow-up. Right ear still feeling plugged.

 

Examination of microscope reveals thick mucoid effusion with retraction. A right myringotomy was performed under sterile technique and found to have thickened eardrum with very thick middle ear mucosa. There was some fluid as well. Tympanic membranes was too thick to place a tube.

 

Impression. Right otitis media with effusion with severe edema of the tympanic membranes and mucosa.

 

Plan. Omnicef. Ciprodex drops. Keep the ear dry. Follow-up in 2 weeks for recheck and possible tube placement at that time.

What does all that mean?

Well he put me on not one, but TWO antibiotics.

FOR A FARTING INFECTION I DON'T HAVE???????????????????????

(I did warn you.)

Now, fun fact, I have allergies to some of the more common antibiotics. So he's telling me, after cutting AT LEAST 5 holes in my eardrum, that it's too thick for a tube at the moment. He asks if I have a problem with antibiotics. I tell him what I allergies are. (WHICH HE SHOULD KNOW SINCE IT'S ALL IN MY FREAKING MYCHART NOTES!)

Why do we bother filling out those preregistrations every time? The jackwagon doctors clearly don't read them. This is not the first time I've been prescribed something that sent me to urgent care with a reaction by some "doctor" who didn't get enough of a shit to read the notes I have to fill in for EVERY SINGLE FREAKING APPOINTMENT.

The second I told him my allergies, one would have thought I just informed him that I also shot holes in all four of his tires. He was that inconvenienced by my allergy. He had to think of another two antibiotics that would heal the INFECTION I DIDN'T HAVE but not kill me in the process.

Oh yeah and come back in two weeks. Also, one of the prescriptions was for ear drops. Now, this is fine, but this fucktard's last instruction to me, after telling me to come back in two weeks, was

"Keep your ear dry."

I mean, other than the fact that I have BLOOD AND YELLOW OOZE coming out of the ear and WHITE DROPS GOING IN, I AM BEING SUPER CAREFUL about keeping it dry. Now showers for me. (That's going to go over great at work.)

By the time I'm at the pharmacy (those poor people) I was in tears and raging. My ear hurt, I can't hear out of it, but sound gets stuck in my head and it's like I'm underwater. I don't want to go anywhere, I don't want to do anything. I can't carry on a conversation with a person like normal, and my TV volume is way past 11. It's all I can do not to break down at the pharmacy.

This is how mad I was: I asked to speak with the pharmacist to make sure the antibiotics weren't going to set off a reaction.

I trust pharmacists.

I do not trust "Doctors."

Wise words from Keith Richards...and he should know. He's done just about every bad thing to himself and he's still kicking.

Okay, so you'd think at this point I'd just drive home and take my meds and write a funny blog about nonsense that only happens to me.

Nope, we are not done.

Outside the pharmacy, I realize my rage is so strong it's now affecting my intestinal system.

It is an 11 minute drive from the pharmacy to my house. That's taking into consideration hitting at least two of the multiple traffic lights on the way. I judged the urgency, weighed it against my loathing for public restrooms, and decided to try and get home.

And that's when I got behind the SLOWEST CAR ON THE WHOLE DAMN ROAD. Like "what the hell dude! At least get close to the speed limit!"

As a result, I hit the first three lights on RED. By the second one, I knew I wasn't making it home. NEVER FEAR, KWIK TRIP's NEAR! I had two lights between me and the nearest KT.

Of course, I hit both the lights on red. By that last one I was yelling out my window, "COME ON!" in a voice that can only be described as desperate.

I got to the Kwik Trip, parked my car, and raced as fast as I dared to the door. However, there's an unwritten rule at Kwik Trip: You must keep the door open for the person behind you. It's the way we are, Midwest Nice. So even though I was, in all honesty, hanging on by the tiniest of threads, I held the door open for a guy who, I SWEAR, slowed his pace once he saw me holding the door.

COME ON!

Finally, I get into the bathroom, lock that door behind me, and let loose a hot steaming flood of rage from my bowels. It took several minutes to fully deshit my colon, and my relief was, unlike the crap with my ear, real and lasting.

I got home and went to cry on hubby's shoulder. Thank goodness for him. After that, I took my antibiotics for an infection I DO NOT HAVE, and I turned on "Downton Abbey" and that was the rest of my day.

Dr. House, we need you! I'm pretty sure you could kick my ear "doctors" ass, even with the cane!

My WHAT is sputtering?

 

Happy Friday all!

Today's blog deals with women's issues, especially menopause, iron and anemia, and doctor's appointments. I write blogs like this to comfort, educate, and amuse my fellow women.  If we talk about this stuff, it won't be as foreign.  If we laugh at it, it won't be as scary.

For those of you who are NOT adult women, be warned:  there is some icky female medical stuff ahead.  I don't want any of you stopping me at church or the library or someplace you might see me and say, "Well now I can't get that image out of my head!

This week has been all about the doctor's office.  Three trips to the same building in three days.  I definitely live a special kind of life.  #donthatemebecauseimawesome.

The first appointment was for my bi-annual "pop your feet in the stirrups and scooch" good time with my GYN.  Now that I'm done having babies and I'm past the half century mark in age, they really do not care about what's going on down there all that much. It's all about the upstairs girls now.  But, every so often they need to take a peak and make sure, especially now that I'm in that super fun perimenopause portion of my life, that nothing weird or alien is happening.  

As it turns out, I was well past the whole "bi-annual" peppy pap schedule.  Sure, they've been mining for all sorts of other nonsense in my womb without a view over the last five years, much of which was because my iron levels are so ridiculously low, they thought I might have a bloodsucking creature of some kind hiding in my baby space.  So my GYN, who is precisely half my age and one third my weight, sat down and, while conversing about other things as if my lady bits weren't hanging right there in front of her face, she poked and scraped and got her testing material. Then she said something that made me laugh too hard for a woman in that delicate position.

She said, "Now, when you see the test results before I do, and you will, if there's anything that seems abnormal, don't freak out."

Don't freak out.  She said that. To me. About medical test results.

Did I mention I'm currently rewatching "House?" 

Not my GYN. MY Gyn is scary by accident.

Well I mentioned it to her.  And she said, "Yeah, they see a lot of zebras on that show, don't they?"

Referring, of course, to the thing my husband says to me all the time, "When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras."

Except, we live in a very zebra filled world over here at the Bradley place. So...

Anyway apparently some new law has decided that we the people need to see our test results BEFORE the doctors who tested us.  Like seeing our grade on a math quiz before the math teacher gives us the grade. It  makes no sense. Why would anyone want that?  I want a nice, neat letter, like I used to get:  Dear Sarah...everything's normal.  Thanks. See you in two years."

But no, now I sit here and check my online health profile and wait. And wait.  I haven't seen those test results.  And since I now know I'm getting them first, I have to wonder what's going on.  So, guess what?  I'm FREAKING OUT!

The second appointment was no biggie. Labs over at the cancer center. And before my readers freak out, let me explain. My anemia/iron problems are a blood issue. Apparently ALL blood doctors are cancer doctors.  Hence and ergo, when I go get my blood drawn to check my iron, it's all at the cancer center side of the clinic.  (Which, BTW, is WAY better run than the normal people's clinic downstairs in the same building. That's the circus show there all they do all day is decorate for holidays and yell people's private medical info across the room.)  I don't mind going for blood draws at the cancer center. The folks are nice, efficient, I rarely have to wait and the needle stick doesn't hurt at all.

Finally, the third appointment.  Seeing my blood doctor to go over my test results of the blood draw.  

Not my blood doctor, but I wish he could be!

My blood doctor sort of seems like what would happen if Howard from "Big Bang Theory" and Skippy's BFF's brother melded DNA.  He's like this super chirpy nerdy guy with really, really thick hair. I adore him because he takes the time to talk to me like a person. I suppose cancer doctors have to do that.  Sure, his scales weigh me heavier than any other on the planet and his blood pressure machine measures mine roughly ten points higher than any other place, but other than that, I really don't mind going to his office. Dr. "Blood" and I have spent the last two years searching for the source of my low iron/ low energy issues.  Those discussions have led us down some serious rabbit holes, but none so fun as the one yesterday.

I told him I'd been to my GYN and we again discussed my monthly punctuation.  I was actually managing the iron I got from an infusion back in June pretty well, and Dr. Blood was confused because he expected that me being me, my iron levels would be in the basement.  Then we talked about my recent punctuations (and the previous lack thereof). We discussed flow and cramps and frequency and everything and we laughed because we both have a pretty irreverent sense of humor and my guess is he doesn't get a lot of laughs in his line of work.

We talked about my diet and how I'm trying to eat iron rich foods since we already know I don't absorb iron supplements at all.  As it turns out, I don't absorb iron from my food either.  So, hey, why am I even bothering with veggies?

Anyway, so Dr. Blood and I were chatting about my punctuation and then he says this:

"I think you're managing your iron better because your ovaries are sputtering."

Howard just told me my ovaries are sputtering.

 And, after three trips in three days to the same building and having my temperature taken 3 days in a row and being asked if I'd traveled out of the country 3x, this is my takeaway:

1)  Don't read my GYN test results no matter what because clearly they're trying to freak me out.

2) My iron levels aren't normal, but they're not on the floor either, which is remarkable for me.

3) I don't have to eat veggies because there's no point.

4)  I'm old enough to have sputtering ovaries.

So there you have it! Enjoy your weekend and try not to picture sputtering ovaries. Especially don't picture mine!  LOL

Foodie rule: When you choke on your own tooth, it's time to go home.

Good afternoon!  

How can it be almost a month since I blogged last?  Oh yes, I've been SICK!  How sick?  Well, I managed to binge watch 6 seasons of "House MD" without once thinking I had any of the ailments on the show.  THAT'S plenty sick enough for me.  And this disease I did have, this massive cough, congestion, loss of appetite, loss of voice, loss of will to move...I'm still getting over it.  I went two weeks without putting on eyeliner or shoes.  (I'm actually amazed at how far I devolved during my time of illness!)

But I've recovered now, at least well enough to go on a little bit of a winter get away with Hubby.  (I realize it's April, but up here in Wisconsin, winter get aways can happen deep into May.)  We headed up to Door County, a touristy place north of Green Bay, for a couple days.

Door County is one of those places that has an off season. Like the Wisconsin Dells, or Paris. (At least I'm told Paris sort of shuts down in August.  And since someone who lives and works in Paris told me that, I guess I take it as truth.)  Typically this means that the things you're going up to see and do aren't going to be open.   But in the last few years, Door County, like many other places that rely on tourism, has figured out a way to draw people up there no matter what the weather.

One word:  alcohol.

It's become quite stylish to hit the wineries of Door County (and there are MANY) to taste and enjoy local wines, and distilled beverages while staying in a hotel room and watching lousy weather roll by.  This is exactly what Hubby and I planned.  Although, being foodies, we added that in as well.

We managed two wineries, Door 44 and Door Penninsula Winery.  We did a wine tasting at Door 44 (and subsequently spent way too much money on wine).  I enjoyed both, but I think the edge has to go to Door Penninsula Winery.  Why?  Well, bottle prices were lower, they offered distilled beverages in addition to wine, there was a larger selection and...most importantly...their strawberry zin took me back to my college days of drinking Boones Farm Tickle Pink.

Ahhhhh, the memories.

Hubby outdid himself with booking a room.  I mean, if I'm booking a room I start with the mantra "I'm not paying more than $50 a night." and work from there.  Hubby booked with an eye towards...romance...and comfort.  We stayed at the Edgewater Resort in Ephraim/Sister Bay.  This wasn't a hotel room...no, this was a place I wanted to move in and live for the rest of my life!  Full kitchen, double sided fireplace, TWO TVs!!!!!!!!!!!  Oh, and a giant whirlpool tub!  All of the rooms

face the water, but if you're going to book, ask for room 216.  Best of all, the ICE MAKER in the freezer worked so well I was never without ICE!  (Well done Hubby!)

The weather cooperated well enough. We had sunshine two of three days up there, so we were able to hike in the state park, which was lovely.  (And good for my fit bit).

Food is always a big part of our trips (Duh...look at us) and Door County did not disappoint.  Since we had a kitchen, we stopped at a local grocery store and got fixings for a rustic cheese and sausage dinner for both nights, which saved a ton of money.  Breakfast and lunch was out and about.  And boy, did we find some off season gems!

It started with soup.  I love soup.  Seriously...if there's such a thing as a soup addiction, I have it.  So when I checked out the lunch menu at Shipwrecked Brew Pub in Egg Harbor and I saw "seafood chowder" I was all about it!  And I WAS NOT disappointed!  ( I also recommend the cheese curds and the cherry/berry crumble. Portions are huge, service is fast, and the place is CUTE!  

Breakfast both mornings in Door County was at the one place open near our hotel:  Al Johnson's Swedish Restaurant and Butik.  This place has it all!  Swedish pancakes to die for, Swedish meatballs FOR BREAKFAST, a super cute little gift shop, and, in the summer months, GOATS ON
THE ROOF!  You read that right.  Goats.  On the grassy roof of the restaurant.  While it's hard to miss in the summer, you have to keep a slightly sharper eye out in the winter months. Well, not really.  Just look for the cars.  I love Swedish pancakes, but I've never really had them until now, and I'll probably only ever eat them here from now on!  Al Johnson's is a place where the regulars gather, so you know the food is good, and eavesdropping on conversations is fun and informative. Probably better than a local newspaper.  

But the gold star place that took it all was Czarnuszka Soup Bar in Ephraim.  After a day of hiking, we were overjoyed to find this little place tucked just off the main road.  The menu is limited to, you guessed it, soup and maybe a sandwich, whatever Mr. Czarnuszka feels like making.  Personally, I recommend the kielbasa and cabbage. Sounds weird, I know, but it's quite possibly the best soup I've ever eaten!


( I should mention that the little shack next door to the soup bar is currently for sale. Someone needs to send me $75K so I can live the dream of living next door to never ending soup!)

We hit the Green Bay Packer Hall of Fame, because that's what you do when you're on your way home from Door County.  Exhausted and loaded down with possibly a couple too many bottles of wine, we made one more foodie stop.

Il Ritrovo is a personal favorite for Hubby and me.  Wood fired pizza, unbelievable appetizers, and a tiramisu that makes all other tiramisus want to run away and hide.  Seriously delicious, fresh, and not too pricey.  I'd been looking forward to biting

into a lovely piece of that pizza since the day Hubby told me he was planning this weekend.

So imagine my surprise, after everything we'd eaten, when, while taking one small bite of a not at all hard piece of pizza, I started choking on something very hard.

Yes, it was one of my teeth.

Well, actually it was a part of a tooth.  See, several years ago I had a crown put on my back upper molar on the right.  The crown slipped off a couple times, and my dentist (who did not make the original crown) sealed it back on. When it fell off a third time, my dentist told me that he couldn't make a proper seal and that I should either get a new crown ($700) or get the tooth pulled ($180)  or do nothing.  ($0)  We've been in a holding pattern for a number of years. Last time I was in, a year ago, I told him to pull it.  He said there was still quite a bit of tooth left and if it wasn't causing problems I still had plenty of time on it before we had to pull it.

NOT NO MORE I DON'T!

In a true, "It can only happen to Sarah" moment, the whole center of the tooth stub broke off and nearly killed me.

Okay, that might be a little dramatic.

Still.  That was my signal it was time to get home and stay home for a while.  And I think that's a good rule of thumb:  When you choke on your own tooth, it's time to go home.

The tooth isn't causing any pain.  But I figured I should call my dentist and get this looked at.  Funny thing is, he was at a conference all day Monday. So If I can't get in on Tuesday or Wednesday I'm stuck with a tooth rim in my face because on Thursday...wait for it...I go in for what I like to call the GUT AND BUTT SCOPE SPECIAL.

That's right. I'm getting an endoscopy AND a colonoscopy all in one day.  Watch for the blog on THAT!

#donthatemebecauseImawesome