Okay...I am officially dejected, disappointed, and down. I went to see the doctor today.
Now this isn't one of those “pity me” blogs. I could care less about that kind of crap. It's a blog to talk about what kind of dark humor the universe dishes.
Some background first. Those who know me understand I have been really sick for the last 4 years. Neurological problems, constant pain, and some awful problems of gastric biology I won't describe for sake of being disgusting.
A long time ago, back in 2004 they thought it was just a bad stomach virus at first. But then it wouldn't go away. So the general practitioners referred me to specialists. After several months the specialists shrugged and decided they had no idea what was wrong with me. So thats then they started sending me to heads of staff at research hospitals. Neurologists. Gastroenterologists. I was seeing 'effing brain surgeons for corn's sake and all they could do was determine that...
I'm not contagious
I'm not dying
They had no idea what was wrong and how to fix it.
But of course it has been a long, strange trip to get to that point. They have given me tests that would be more suitable in a torture chamber than a hospital. Each time I saw a new doctor I'd have to steel myself for the coming disappointment. The doc would practically raise his finger in the air as the light bulb went on over his head. He'd say “I think I know what this is” then run more tests and eventually say “um...no...I don't know what this is.”
However, thanks to the lovely public system we have I lost my insurance. No more insurance means no more specialists...it means going to the local health center to wait in line with the illegal immigrants who never paid taxed like me but can claim government benefits anyway. It usually takes 3 or 4 months to get an appointment, and if your doctor isn't in then you have to reschedule it.
Today, my doctor was in. Even though it's public health I lucked out with a really cute female doctor with curly red hair and a great smile. So I waited nearly half the day so I could see her. I had brought with me all of the previous medical test records, doctors notes and such in a nice fat file to try to help her figure out if there was something else we could do.
She looked at some of the records and I watched as her eyes bugged out of her head. She looked up at me and said something akin to “I have to be honest with you. I'm in way over my head here.” She suggested that in a few months the government might get a contract arranged that lets me see a specialist again.
So all I can do is sit back and laugh at this whole thing like a cynic. Because I don't think I could stand it if I let myself take the situation too seriously. Nope. I wouldn't last long at all.