Saturday, May 22, 2010

An Update

I'm making a stink.

I never heard from the chaplain after leaving a message on Thursday. I tried calling the command staff at the Army hospital on Thursday but they had gone home for the day.

First thing yesterday morning I called the command staff and spoke to someone. All it took was a few minutes of explaining my situation (and not even in detail, just the general facts) and within an hour or two I had a doctor calling my cell phone.

Unfortunately the doctor that called is the doctor that never returned my calls from April when I was trying to get the kids registered for respite care. (Which, of course, I never got.) So I'm not really thrilled with her and she's not my PCM. But, she says she will help me.

I kept my appointment with my PCM for June 11th (which was the soonest available) and now have an appointment with this other doctor on Monday. I spent a good twenty minutes on the phone with her, explaining what's been going on and everything. She told me to call 911 if I faint again. That just seems crazy to me, considering her colleague sent me home on Wednesday and told me to take a nap. Why is it one extreme or the other?

If past experience is any indication, maybe they'll start to figure out what's wrong with me at this next appointment. When I had C. diff in 2006, I visited this same hospital and was sent home three times. I was in the ER, complaining that something was seriously wrong and they kept telling me it was a virus. Nobody in the house was sick. The girls were only 6 months old. I knew it was something else. I thought I was going to die. I lost 20 lbs over the course of 2 weeks. Finally, on my fourth trip to the hospital, the ER nurse drew blood from an artery in my wrist. They admitted me on the spot and I was in quarantine for a week. The doctors and nurses came in my room in full astronaut gear, from head to toe, with even their faces covered. I knew this was not a good sign. I still thought I was going to die. A colonoscopy revealed ulcerative colitis and there was talk of removing my colon. I was so sick. Jason was scared and was home with the girls, trying to feed them all of the breastmilk that was in the freezer. After aggressive antibiotic treatment, I eventually came home. But the C. diff and the military doctors nearly cost me my bowels (and my life.)

Needless to say, I don't have a lot of faith in the military doctors. Fortunately, I rarely have to see them. I'm much more holistically-minded. I choose homebirth and homeopathics over hospitals and drugs. But sometimes something serious happens and we need medical care. I feel like this is one of those times.

I've been to the doctors more in the last three weeks than I have in the last three years.

I shouldn't have to call the command staff at the hospital just to get an appointment. But hey, I'm not above that right now.

So yeah, I'm definitely making a stink.
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