The good, the bad, and the incompetent

Small amounts of win include my sats settling down, my headaches going away, and successfully making sure that I never have to see a certain doctor I disagree with at my clinic ever again...

The headaches reached a point where I asked someone to call up clinic for me and arrange a quick appointment to talk to a dr and see if we could figure out what the headaches were - and if it was an O2 issue. My clinic itself is fantastic and I got an appointment for the next day. I understand that some people may have to wait ages for an appointment with their hospital, or might even just wait till their next schedulled one. I could have done that, considering my next appt was literally a week away, but I wasn't keen on keeping the samba drum going in my head for that long.

Suffice to say, the appointment itself wasn't as successful as I hoped. There's three doctors at my clinic, and they divide the patients between them, making sure we each keep the same doctor so they have a better idea of us personally, our treatment regime and little things like that. Since moving to adults, I've been under the care of two different doctors. I switched maybe a year or two ago after one too many disagreements and more or less just getting on much better with the second dr (who is actually younger therefore doesn't look like he's already past the retirement age...). Sadly mr awesome doc was on his jolly hollys when my headaches struck, so I had to see Geriatric Dr (also 'Dr Penis' as named by Gem) who I hadn't been stuck in a room with for quite some time, so I'd forgotten my distaste for certain medical staff. I'm sorry, but just because you were in medical school 300 years ago, it doesn't mean you know more than me. This is a doctor who once refused to admit that nosebleeds caused by IVs (more specifically, ceftazadime) were actually because of the IVs, just because they weren't a primary side effect of the drug. Erm, if Im having the side effect, I think its a fucking side effect.

Stuck in the room, trying to talk to Dr Geriatric, I tried to explain my headaches, and how I've been in this poistion last year when I needed O2. I felt exactly the same, and I didn't know what to do about it - if it was an O2 issue, I couldn't sort it at home as I don't have any. That said, I wasn't exactly begging for an attractve piece of plastic across my face or an admission into hospital.

He spent most of the time convinced it was a sinus problem. My headaches went past the area he said my headaches would be if it was my sinuses, and also, slight lack of sinus problems EVER made me skeptical to believe this diagnosis. Secondly, he suggested it was just pressure from coughing. I already get those sort of headaches and they don't last two weeks constantly, so I disagreed with this too. He checked my sats for two seconds. I'd been sitting resting for a good 20 mins by now, breathing normally and talking (headaches would hit when I was breathless, for whatever reason, sometimes randomly after doing nothing) and therefore the buggers were 98 and certain people refused to believe my home sats monitor (which I've actually compared to a hosp monitor) had been saying between 86 and 93, as they seemed fine now. My sats have always misbehaved when I feel shite, and have an annoying habit of actually being perfect once I get round to trying to sort it. Typico.

He did suggest it could be a Co2 issue, but couldn't be arsed to do the ABG which would have told us whether that was a correct theory or not. He asked if I'd tried para or ibuprofen (both which I had tried, and they hadn't worked) and then that resulted in the next comment:

Dr Geriatric : Well I see you've got Codine on your prescription, have you taken any of that?
Me: Nope, cos it was prescribed for pleurisy ages ago and I ran out a long time ago
Dr Geriatric : So have you taken any recently?
Me:... no. I RAN OUT a long time ago, and it doesn't even work on headaches.
Dr G: (presumed internal monologue) "Lalalala I'm a doctor, look at my pretty stethoscope, lalalala"

I do love the NHS, they've kept me alive and well to this day, but some people should not be allowed near the bloody place.

His only suggestion after this was more painkillers. So he trotted off to get a prescription of diclofenac (a fucking painkiller for JOINT PAIN!!! And might I add, it didn't help for a nanosecond when I took it) and when he left the room, I was so annoyed, I walked out. The receptionist stopped me when I said I didn't know where the doctor had gone, but I wasn't coming back, so she took me round to my nurse, who took me to a side room for a proper talk, and for me to vent about everything that happened, including the fact that I was disgusted at the so called doctor for spending the entire time blatantly staring at my chest, instead of say, oh... my face? The doctor did find us and gave me the stupid prescription but i was so angry I told him to piss off. Which I think is fairly justified.

In the next nine days till my actual clinic appointment, after trying the diclofenac once and it not working, the headaches thankfully dissipated themselves. I started IVs as planned (after refusing to start them a week early as Dr Geriatric thought the whole problem was a sinus infection) and so far I'm enjoying the numb hands (and everything else that goes with the joy of IVs) and I'll tell you this for free; no matter how many times I go on IVs, I always forget how spaced I do get on them, and I forget how sodding difficult it is to finish one legible text message as my hands don't do what I tell them. Thankfully typing is a tad easier. Thank fuck for spell check. 

My lung function seemed average (I didn't look properly to be fair) and my weight is STILL stuck around 42kg, which is at least better than I was expecting after managing to get a tummy bug which seems to be going around lately. My advice is to avoid anyone feeling iffy like the plague, as I can't remember the last time I felt that awful whilst I had it, but thankfully recovered within 2 days enough to eat a meal with my boyfriend's family. It was so weird being ill with something not even slightly related to CF. And honestly, you don't realise how much you miss food till you're unable to eat it! It's done my appetite a favour in a way - all through this post I've only been able to think what I want for dinner, and I'm starving!

So I'm off to fullfill my womanly duties (ha!) and going to cook something. Till next time! (if you're still awake after that) x