Thursday, April 10, 2008

Bring Out Your Dead

I got the greatest gift any undiagnosed long suffering sick person could get. I had a doctor agree that I was sick.

Now, doesn't that sound pathetic?

To this point, I have had doctors and specialists hem and haw while not coming to any conclusions. The rheumatologist even had the family doctor take me off prednisone because I didn't have a diagnosis. Funnily enough, the prednisone made all the symptoms go away.

My thought? Look up all the uses for prednisone and work your way back...reverse diagnosing.

To get the doctor yesterday to actually admit that I was sick, all I had to do was to show up in the condition that I have been in for the past two weeks. Unable to complete a sentence without running out of breath, unable to walk across a room without running out of breath, and unable to breathe without running out of breath.

My pulmonary functioning? 40% or a little less. If it gets to 35% I get a lollipop and a sticker.

So, back on prednisone. And off to the hospital for a test or two before I introduce myself to the pulmonologist. I think I'll probably introduce myself then drop dead at his feet.

1 comment:

Shelly said...

Getting a doctor to admit that you are sick is a HUGE accomplishment--this I know. You get so sick of them looking at you as if you must be making the whole thing up that when someone finally acknowledges, even in a small way, that there might be something wrong ("Its not normal to have a headache every day for three years" for example...) you're practically beside yourself...

Seriously, I'm way more creative than that...if I was making this up, I'd have more than just a headache every day for three years... ;-)

Hopefully, this will get things rolling in the Get Better Department.