It’s The C Word: Part 1

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As many of you know I’ve been sick since April and haven’t really been getting any better. In fact I’ve been getting steadily worse. Since the last time I posted I have gotten amazingly worse which prompted us to go and get a second opinion.

The first sign that I was getting worse was when my migraines got so bad that I began hallucinating and begging for unconsciousness. Instead of that though I got to watch a ball of leaves walk across my friend’s parking lot. When I went to the ER there were two doctors that I saw. The first one took some blood and gave me an IV cocktail that took the pain away but gave me restless legs.

The second one was extremely rude and called me crazy. Literally. She came in and asked me about my mental history, which is pretty good considering, but then she asked about my family’s mental history which is not so good. Instead of listening to me that I was sick she told me that my family’s mental illness was finally manifesting in me. When I was a little girl I used to have migraines that caused me to hallucinate as well, but she didn’t even listen to that. Glad I never have to see her again.

The second sign that it was not getting better, and the one that scared the most people, was when blood began leaking from my tear duct. By the time we made it to the ER the blood had stopped coming out and I had no video or photographic proof to show them how bad it had been. I sat in the hospital room feeling like a crazy person to be worried about this even though I knew I should be. Thankfully I didn’t get the unprofessional doctor again but the doctor I did get didn’t do anything for me. He gave me two Popsicle sticks wrapped in tape and sent me on my way.

After that I just sat in my house waiting for the committee to approve my visit to an ENT and believing that I just had a bad sinus infection that would hopefully get better soon. A few people began to push for me to get a second opinion from another hospital, specifically Saint Francis, but I didn’t really want to go. I was rejecting it every chance I got since I don’t really like them that much thanks to how they treated the Hubby. Not to mention I didn’t want to end up with a doctor like Dr. Webb.

I finally decided to go to Saint Francis after speaking to one of my aunts, who happens to be a nurse at said hospital, about my symptoms and everyone’s concerns. I have to admit that I didn’t have any concerns right then about whether the illness could be something worse than a stubborn bacteria or virus. My aunt, however, was very concerned and after an hour and a half of talking made me promise her that I would go to Saint Francis and get a second opinion. I’m really glad that I made that promise.