While it’s Still Thursday…

Well, I got increas­ing­ly wifty and con­fused due to fibro fog dur­ing the day. In fact, sam­bear called shad­owkatt and set her to super­vis­ing me, insist­ing that I eat, take my meds, and not attempt dan­ger­ous things like, oh, walking.

I’d called the rheuma­tol­o­gist’s office every day this week with no response—hadn’t been able to get through to a human and my mes­sages weren’t returned. (They just got a new phone sys­tem, and the doc today said things are still problematic.) 

After being for­ti­fied with food, meds, and water, I tried call­ing again. I final­ly reached a human by punch­ing in ran­dom exten­sion num­bers. I was told that for break­through pain meds I’d have to come into the office. I explained that I had no way to GET to the office because I cer­tain­ly was­n’t in any con­di­tion to be dri­ving. My choic­es were to get there today, some­how, and be “worked in” at the end of the day—or wait ’til next week because the doc would­n’t be there tomor­row. Well, that answered that question.

My hero endured an odyssey of train and bus trans­fers, then a taxi ride, to get home to me. sam­bear is the most incred­i­ble part­ner in the world. And shad­owkatt is a bet­ter daugh­ter than I deserve. She should­n’t have had to take care of me for anoth­er 40 years or so!

So he got me to Lawrenceville. The office felt like an oven for some inex­plic­a­ble rea­son (they swore that the heat was­n’t on, and the rest of the build­ing was nice and cool). I was even fur­ther out of it by the time I got to see the doctor—who, by the way, is an angel for see­ing me after 5 pm anyway.

Then she tried to send me to the ER because she had trou­ble even fig­ur­ing out what my pulse was and my blood pres­sure was ridicu­lous­ly high. The physi­cian’s assis­tant could­n’t quite get the pulse at first, either. I stopped doing any­thing but focus­ing on bring­ing it and the BP down, and suc­ceed­ed in get­ting the pulse down to 108 (they did­n’t retake the BP). There are some advan­tages to that old biofeed­back train­ing, even if it can’t over­come this lev­el of pain.

Sam con­vinced her that the heart rate and BP real­ly were due to the pain I was in. I think I remem­ber her say­ing some­thing about nev­er hav­ing seen me so out of it before, but I’m not sure. Maybe Sam knows. Again, she wants to send me to a pain specialist—and I don’t have any way to afford that. Any new doc­tor is going to want lots and lots of new tests and is not like­ly to be amenable to me pay­ing what I can here and there. In fact, the only one I’ve found local­ly who is list­ed as an FMS spe­cial­ist who is real­ly good won’t accept unin­sured patients at all, period.

I have a pre­scrip­tion for hydrocodone-APAP, stronger than what I’ve had in the past (I think that’s gener­ic Lortab). It works and it was cheap. So now I have a pain med I can take at night (only at night, really—I can’t dri­ve or any­thing while on this stuff), which should help with the sleep­ing and maybe help stop this par­tic­u­lar pain flare.

We stopped at Sam’s Club to fill the RX, and my Sam bought Club crack­ers for me, which I’m nib­bling on as an alter­na­tive to Saltines. I may get real­ly wild tomor­row and try ‘nil­la wafers.

Doc’s office is sup­posed to be fax­ing a let­ter to my school tomor­row. I hope that’ll help some with the accom­mo­da­tion issue.

I men­tioned that I am mov­ing for­ward on the dis­abil­i­ty claim and that she should have some kind of request for info from them soon. She said she def­i­nite­ly sup­ports my claim, which is A Very Good Thing.

I haven’t got­ten the girl to the aller­gist’s office this week for her shots. That is NOT good. sam­bear is going to take her tomor­row. Hope­ful­ly, he’ll be able to go to work after that (the aller­gist clos­es at noon on Fri­day). I feel guilty for pulling him away from the office because I’m puny.

Obvi­ous­ly, I did­n’t make class today. As much as I detest the speech class, I did­n’t want to miss it, either. Oh well.

To bed now, to cud­dle up with my sweet hero.

Cur­rent Mood: 😐blah
Cyn is a proud Mommy & Mémé, professional geek, avid reader, fledgling coder, enthusiastic gamer (TTRPGs), occasional singer, and devoted stitcher.
Posts created 4241

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Related Posts

Begin typing your search term above and press enter to search. Press ESC to cancel.

Back To Top