Grapefruit juice can do THAT?

It's been a strange week for me. Tuesday, I had an appointment with a new therapist. When he asked why I wasn't seeing the last one anymore, I just said Dr. Linden's name. "Oooohhh," was his nodding response. BTW, I went home and Googled this new guy and his associates and nobody popped up on a police ledger, so that's good news. On Thursday, I went to see the new surgeon that my PCP recommended (PCP just seems wrong, like I'm doing drugs or something... but I digress). I was impressed with how quickly they got me back to his office, but the minute he walked through the door, I began missing my old surgeon. Dr. Panucialman is kind, gentle, good with people. Dr. Davis is a pompous butt head who thinks his $#%t don't stink. Wow. That wasn't very nice. Maybe I'll edit that out later. He probed the area far more than I feel was necessary, as I was holding back tears and trying not to climb off the examining table. Zachary was quite concerned. When he had abused me sufficiently, he snapped his gloves into the garbage and demanded that I get dressed. Before I had a chance to get my shirt all the way on, he knocked once and walked right in, leaving the door open behind him. I hope the folks in the hall enjoyed the show. Then he informs me, "Well I can't feel anything in there, so there isn't much I can do. I can see that there is swelling, but I could not locate a lump of any kind." Ummm, okay. I asked where we went from there. I asked him if he read the reports from the 3 other doctors I've seen and he said (I am NOT kidding here) "Well, I don't believe any of them, so it doesn't matter what their reports say." Say what? He did make a good argument that, had it been given in a less "I AM YOUR GOD" fashion, I wouldn't be so cranky about it. Supposedly, the armpit is one of the worst places to operate on and is very difficult to close back up. Even when people have Cancer type surgeries, closing the armpit takes the longest. Okay, that makes sense, and honestly, I don't want anybody going on a fishing expedition in my body, but did he have to be such a jerk about it? I did ask him what I am supposed to do now. He told me to came back when I can feel something in there. Okay, but until then, I am in quite a bit of pain here. Not Tylenol, Aleve, Advil pain. Heavy-duty fun-stuff pain here. So, he gives me another scrip for Percocet. Yeah! I've always wanted to be addicted to pain killers! So, I went home with little relief and a lot of pain. Then, to boot, WalMart's pharmacy was out, so I had to wait til Ty got home to go out again, cuz DANG he did a number on my armpit. Honestly, this is the first day it hasn't hurt since his "exam" and it's been 4 days!!!
As a side note, ALWAYS believe the drug warnings pertaining to grapefruit juice. Sunday, I was feeling rather good, except for the pain, of course. When Ty brought me some juice while I was getting ready for church, I took a dose of my Percocet with it. All was well, and we went to church. As we were sitting in the pew, waiting for church to start, I felt like my shoes were on too tight. I looked down and my ankles were really swollen. Weird, right? I just ignored it and went on flirting with the 2nd counselor's twin daughters across the aisle from us. (They are so cute, we call them Thing One and Thing Two! tee hee) When the testimony sharing part of Sacrament came up, I started feeling a little dizzy and very hot. Ty got up to bear his and the whole chapel swam. When he came back, I moaned and leaned forward to rest my head on the pew in front of us. Ty started rubbing my back and then grabbed my hand. He started applying pressure to it and my arms. It seems my blood pressure was a little screwy. Ty had to teach in Sunday School, so he told me to just sit in the lobby after Sacrament meeting and to not try to go to classes or walk down the halls. Then he dashed off. Tristan helped me to a couch in the lobby and then Amy saw me and immediately offered to take me home.
Moral of the story? Don't mix grapefruit juice with your narcotics. It's not a fun flight!!!

The Continuing Saga

It keeps going and going and going.
As you know, I have been trying to get whatever is making my underarm (and arm and chest) taken care of, and as you know, it's been a pain in the rear. When I called to get an appointment with my Primary Care Physician (PCP) they told me I couldn't get in until April 25th. Ach. I told the woman that I am in a lot of pain. I'm taking narcotics to ease said pain. I am almost out of said narcotics. she compromised saying she would send a note to the doc's nurse and I would hear something in 24 hours. 20 hours later, I called back. This time I got a much more helpful woman who saw a cancellation and gave it to me.
I saw the doctor yesterday. She warned us that going through the HMO side instead of the PPO side would be a lot more red tape but stipulated that she was willing to be the "Medical Mafia" if needs be. Those were her words, "Medical Mafia!" Ty and I laughed at that one. She put in a referral to the surgical powers that be and ordered blood work.
I went to get my blood sucked today. I told the lab tech how impressed I was with her technique (I didn't feel a THING!!!) she replied that she'd had a lot of practice over the past few weeks. Oh yeah! They've been taking care of all the people who were possibly infected with Hepatitis-C and HIV from those skanky clinics y'all have heard about on the national news.
OH! The doctor also put in a referral so I can get a new therapist. Seeing as mine has been arrested for check fraud here in Vegas (trying to pass over $300,000.00 in bad checks at local casinos) and sexual misconduct with two patients in Oklahoma (he gave them Herpes and I don't mean cold sores.) Gotta love Las Vegas!!!