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Spoonie Tip#2
Being chronically ill, we all know energy is scarce. I have found that buying the jumbo roles of nice toilet paper really does save me time and energy. I don't have to change the roll as often and that makes me happy. It's the little things...
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I feel like ER and emergency care doctors try NOT to diagnose you with anything. Even when they know something is there and even when they know what it is. Like. The worst of my infection is over. The worst of the rupture is over I assume because I'm hemorrhaging it out and they said it should stop by tonight, assuming it stops tonight. But half of my bowel movements have me screaming in pain and it literally hurts to eat.
They give me a copy of my imaging (not shady at all given that this is the first time it's been volunteered without my asking), and tell me to get a referral to a gyno (which they always suggest for follow up anyways).
The only reason I have a clear indication to actually go get that referral is A: still in pain and B: I happen to know what I'm at risk for with my diagnosed chronic illnesses and boy howdy these symptoms, and symptoms I've had for 2+ years, are lining up.
I had to put that together myself because they said to go see a gyno for my existing diagnosed condition and I was like okay cool but that's why I'm seeing an endocrinologist because that's who treats that... (so if there's a reason to go tell me because I'm too poor for follow up bs). And they swerved around that.
But you won't catch me walking into a doctor's office saying "hi I'm concerned about this particular condition because of xyz symptoms and a predisposition", because I've made that mistake before, and gotten shuffled out the door without much more than "oh you must just have opposite symptoms to what you should have that's how your body is nbd". Goddess forbid you're educated on what your body should be doing and what your conditions put you at risk for right? Oh no. We can't have people walking around knowing that they're sick or how, that would me immoral and chaotic.
At IC treatment this morning. Husband keeps saying he wants to post on FB that I’m going to have six bladders now because each treatment is called a “bladder instillation.” *insert eye roll here* I love him. Even if he’s a dork.
I can't even explain how tired I am.
Of being broke and sick.
