It is so hard to get good help these days.
Especially those of the medical persuasion.
As you all know, I am completely fucked up in the health stakes and I take every damn opportunity to let you all know about it. Because no other fucker will listen, obvs.
And since my little excursion to the dentist, my only other contact with the outside world has been phone calls with medical receptionists and MPS ferrying me back and forth to waiting rooms.
First up was to finally get the results for my gastric emptying study. To get my ‘formal’ diagnosis of gastroparesis.
Turns out it is way worser that we thought, moderate to severe. But according to my specialist with the beside manner of my mother he has seen worse and he could care less and really, he hasn’t even read my file and is not even sure what meds I am on. Fabulous. Fucker. I hate him. But at least he said that he would fill out forms for Centrelink or Income insurance for me. *smiles*
Thanks. You are not invited to my funeral.
I forgot to mention in my last post, during the epic day of suck, that on the way home from the dentist the rheumatologist’s receptionist called to say that he was referring me to a DIFFERENT doctor now and I had to go and get my GP to organise that shit. Um. OK then. Some professor of vascular surgery and I was all OMG OK WHATEVER I JUST WANT THIS DAY TO END SURE, but in reality I was very polite cause I was still in a state of shock from what had just transpired in the dentists office and OMG did I tell you that it all only cost $260? I know! Bargain trauma.
So then yesterday I had an appointment for a care plan to go so a specialist dietitian for the gastroparesis and physio for the fucked up osteoarthritis in my neck. Nurse was AWESOME and even actually knew what gastroparesis was which is super fancy and shit cause normally I have medical peeps telling me they have never heard of it or worse still that is a made up word. TRUE STORY. Then I trotted off to the GP to get him to sign off on all the papers, fix up my damn history that doesn’t have any of my fucking current shit on it and do the referral to the new dude.
This being sick shit is EXHAUSTING.
This morning I got a call from the clinic saying the referral was ready and I could pick it up. They had already faxed it to the specialist and I just needed to grab a copy for my records. MPS picked it up for me cause I was swanning around in bed for the 8th day in a row, so fat so lazy, watching KUWTK. MPS handed me the referral…
it was made out to a completely different motherfucking doctor. One I have never heard of.
At this point I am ready to just give up. Roll over and just go fuck it all. I am done. Whatever. I can’t do this anymore. I am constantly fighting with these fucking doctors to do their jobs properly in the precious little time that I have between work and Boos shit and being a professional sick person. How on earth am I supposed to get better if I can’t even get a fucking referral to a doctor filled out correctly?
If only I could eat my damn feelings right now, I would smash the shit out of a family sized meatlovers pizza and a white chocolate raspberry cheesecake.
Double fisted. On snapchat. (if I had the time and energy to work that shit out)