Moving on

It has been exactly three weeks now since I've had a call returned from my Rheumatologist or his practice staff. At this point I can't even get test results from these people. These results were promised to be ready on March 7th. I could fully describe my frustration, but I've always believed that profanity is the lowest form of communication, so I'll pass. Suffice it to say I am thoroughly disgusted.

So - moving on.

I've made a new appointment with a different provider who comes highly recommended. Her practice is about twenty miles away but it will be worth the drive if she will just listen and work with me to devise a treatment plan. In the meantime, I will continue to take Plaquenil and manage my pain as best I can. It is certain that my current doctor isn't interested in helping to treat it.

Friday morning, I woke up with the "knuckles" of my big toes on each foot swollen and throbbing. My feet and ankles were puffy and creaky. My knees and hips hurt too, and I couldn't turn my head farther than a few degrees to each side. I ended up working from home - lying in bed with my laptop and tying up some research projects I'd been working on. On days like that, there's just no driving. Walking almost didn't happen - if a friend hadn't let me borrow a four-footed cane which I keep by my bed for emergencies, I guess I wouldn't have made it out of bed at all. By one pm, the swelling had gone down enough so that I could put on shoes and get dressed. By four, I was finally able to turn my head enough to drive.

But hey - none of that requires treatment, right? After all, according to my doctor, my pain isn't a part of my disease process.

Yeah - I'm angry. I'm beating a dead horse. And every moment of pain I suffer just makes me angrier. But maybe that isn't a bad thing. After all, it has motivated me to find someone else who can better help me manage my condition. For years, I would never have dreamed of switching doctors, regardless of how poorly I felt I was being treated. I used to have such poor self esteem that I would have just suffered in silence, the same way I suffered through abusive, toxic relationships in the past few years.  Not anymore. I've changed, thank God. It was about time. Maybe one of the best things that I've brought forward from my past is my unwillingness to allow myself to be treated unfairly. I can be my own advocate. I'm strong enough for that.


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