November 27, 2006 1:08am

My sincerest apologies for not updating sooner. The renal system really kicked my ass and I was on lockdown studying every night. Then, I don't have wireless internet at home and I really can't me expected to sit at an uncomfortable desk and update my blog! Now that I have returned to WV I can properly update the blog from the comfort of my couch.

Now...without further delay.....

Oh yes folks, it's that time of year again!

MY BIG FAT THANKSGIVING DINNER

Once again, it was time for a festive Thanksgiving celebration at my uncle Ray's house. Ray has a stronghold on Thanksgiving because his in-laws insist on being in bed by 4pm. Therefore, we must have Thanksgiving dinner at 11:00am every year. There is no watching the Thanksgiving Day parade in my family, there is no afternoon of football, there is no collection of women in the kitchen complaining about their husbands. We sit down to dinner at 11:45am, quietly, with our legs crossed at the ankles. There is no music because that might disrupt someone's digestion. Conversation is limited to politics, work, or me.

Yes, I am the center of attention. Why? Well, because I am the youngest at the table by 30 years.

As such, I am still considered to be the child. This is now made even worse by the fact that I am no longer engaged so there is no husband in my immediate future. Therefore, I am a child and am treated as such.

In years past, the guest list was longer. It always included my parents, uncle ray and his wife, my aunt joanne and her husband, ray's decrepidly old in-laws, my grandmother, my great uncle, my great aunt, ray's wife's aunt, some really old friends of the in-laws, and a friend of my uncle's who he knew since childhood.

Typically, I was seated next to Erma, the incredibly old friend of the decrepidly old in-laws. She would always tell me that it was about darn time I stopped worrying about all this school non-sense and finally got myself a husband. "Men don't like smart women!" she would tell me. She also had very hairy legs for a woman in her 90's. You'd think that by then all hormonal activity would have stopped so body hair would no longer be an issue. She enjoyed telling us about her home health aid and how well this woman washed Erma's crotch.

Anyone want some gravy?

Erma died sometime in the past few years. One down!

The decrepidly old in-laws also kicked it somewhat recently. They were alcoholics, which as entertaining as that condition can be in young people it is twice as much fun in people who are over 80. As of they weren't unsteady enough on their feet, they would always end up sloshed before dessert. I think their true reason for wanting to be home before 4pm was that the DUI checkpoints don't start until at least 8.

Two more down!

Then there was my great aunt, my grandmother, and my father. All of them died in the past few years. Three more gone. That makes 6.

Of ray's in-laws....all of them and their friends are gone. That takes us down an extra 3. In total, nine dead.

That leaves my mom, ray and his wife, joanne and her husband, my great uncle, ray's friend Rich, and me. Eight people.

Nine dead. eight remain. More people have DIED in my lifetime than are still present at the Thanksgiving table.

But I'm a glass is half full kind of girl. You see, when we were a larger group, there wasn't really enough room for me. Since I was the "kid", I was always given a foot stool to sit on because there weren't enough chairs. This was a bit of a novelty for me when I was 9, 10, 11 years old but it quickly lost its appeal when I was 18, 19, 20 years old. I was much bigger than some of those old farts. One of the 90 pound grannies should have sat on the little stool. I need a real chair!

Then there was the silverware problem. There weren't enough regular dinner forks so I was always given a salad fork. I was forced to eat thanksgiving dinner with a salad fork. Why not just give me a spork and make it more challenging? After all, I have to balance my ass on a tiny little foot stool anyway. Give me an inapropriately small eating utensil, a foot stool to balance on, a fraction of a corner of the table to use and I'll give you my very own version of a Thanksgiving Cirque du soleil!

But we have lost so many over the years. No, surely, there will be enough room for me. I will finally get to eat with a real fork. I will finally have a real place at the table.

Nay.

I walk into my uncle's house to see that instead of the dinner table being set, it is instead the kitchen table that has been dressed with the giant ceramic turkey decoration and candlesticks.

It is a lovely kitchen table. It seats 6 people in a rectangle. There were exactly 6 places set. You see, for the past few years I have celebrated Thanksiving alone with the douche bag. I made a Thanksgiving dinner just for the two of us. Very romantic.

Well, apparently my family forgot that I am now the lonely spinster so I will be coming to family dinners again.

I was left out of the count. Forgotten. Dismissed. Ignored.

Never fear, there can always be extra room for another in our family!

Why not just move to the dining room? Well, that is complicated by the fact that their dining room is being redone so unless you can hover over furniture there is no way to even get into that room.

The footstool, my old friend, was brought out of the closet.

I did get to eat with a real fork this time, but I had to drink my wine out of a water glass because wine glasses come in sets of 6, not 7.

So I tried my best to enjoy dinner....

And then it started....

First it was my aunt, "Well, my friend Barbara's daughter got pregnant! and now she's living with the father of this child. What an embarassment!"

and her husband, "Well, that will never work. Living in sin, as well all here know, dooms a relationship."

I tried not to choke.

I looked at my mother, hoping she would change the subject and rescue me.

But before she had a chance, my great uncle decided it was time for his analysis of the world, "Well, ya know, those God damn n---ers just keep stealing from us. They can't be trusted, the n---ers. All f--s they are!"

I have never been so relived to hear him start that shit.

Before dessert, we had covered living in sin, unwed mothers, race relations (to put it nicely) and some reminiscing about all those who are no longer with us.

Happy holidays!

November 12, 2006 12:14am

I haven't been able to fall asleep like a normal person for months. I finally got some awesome stuff from the psychiatrist, but I need more.

Like a very responsible person, I called his office before I ran out. I listened patiently to the menu "push one for appointments....". I pressed 2 for prescription refills. I got an answering machine telling me to leave my information and the prescription will be called in. If I do not hear from them in 48 hours, that means the prescription was called in and I can go pick it up.

"Hello. My name is Elizabeth ------. Dr. E gave me Seroquel to help me sleep. Can you please have him refill my prescription at the Wal Mart pharmacy? I take 25mgs. My number is -------. Thank you."

That was Wednesday. Today is Saturday. I am out of drugs. I went to Wal Mart....no prescription. His office is closed and so I left a message with his answering service. Still haven't heard anything.

I will call again on Monday. This time, I might say something like....

"Hey. This is Bitchy Crazy Liz. I called last week. Never got my prescription filled. Never got a call explaining if there was a problem. Never heard anything from you. I haven't slept in several days. I think it is beginning to really have a negative....did you say something? Hello? No, I won't do that so stop asking me! I'm trying to leave a message. Now be quiet. Anyway, I was saying that I think my lack of sleep has been bad for my.... Okay, enough already! Stop interrupting me :::BEEEEEP::::"

Seriously. Why is it when I ask for help, I can't seem to get it?

I found an online depression support group. That has been interesting. Some of the people are similar to me. And then there are some who I think like being depressed. It's who they are. They like the attention. They live for chat rooms and chat room hugs ((((((((insert name of attention seeker here))))))))). They injure themselves and do impulsive crap like cut off all of their hair and then flip out if you say their trigger word in the chat room...which can be anything from sex to canary.

I guess I shouldn't be so judgmental, but I really feel like some of them don't bother to work or really take care of themselves because it requires effort- and it's difficult. Life isn't easy for anyone. Well, maybe it's easy for Paris Hilton, but it isn't easy for most people. You go to work and pay your bills as long as you're physicially able because it's the responsible thing to do, not because it's fun or easy. They can't handle the stress of real life and don't seem to want to even try to get over that. They're happier sitting at home and collecting a disability check or some sort of handout- all while complaining that they don't have any money or have a hard time paying for their meds. Or, even better, they go on and on about the new computer or camera or cell phone or mp3 player they just bought, and then bitch that they don't have the $100 a month that their medications cost.

Well shit. Maybe we should prioritize. That $500 camera you just bought would have gotten you 5 months of your meds. Maybe in those 5 months you could have found yourself a job and made some more money so you could continue to pay for the drugs. Or you might even get lucky and find a job with health insurance and a prescription plan. Hey, here's an idea...since you obviously have psychiatric issues that need to be handled- why not make it a priority to find a job with health insurance and prescription plan?

Oh, but don't take that the wrong way! I don't mean hold out for that absolutely perfect job. Don't use that as an excuse for not working. "I'm not working right now because I got laid off from my job 6 years ago and haven't found a job that is exactly the same as my old job, but pays more. So, obviously I can't go back to work until I find the ideal situation."

Then there are others who want to be better. They want to function like a "normal" person, but can't. They try, though. God knows they try every day. I admire that. Some are much worse off than I am and need much more support than I do.

I should learn to be more patient with people.

I'll start tomorrow.

November 11, 2006 1:24am

I'm doing much better, thank you.

I'm sure it has something to do with the 1/3 of a coconut custard pie that is sitting in my lap right now.

There is something sort of comforting knowing that I can eat 1/3 of a pie when a month ago I wasn't eating anything for days at a time. I feel like I'm making progress. Maybe next month I'll be able to down a quart of ice cream in one sitting.

Right around the age of 17, I started taking birth control pills because I had periods that lasted roughly 18 days. That was obviously unacceptable and the problem was taken care of.

One wonderful effect of the BCP's was that my acne finally cleared up.

Ever since then, I have had really nice skin. Yes, I don't mind saying it. I exfoliate regularly. I am obsessed with Clinique products. I have fabulously smooth and clean skin. I never ever have a breakout on my face anymore.

I specify "on my face" because it seems that pimples have found new and exciting locations to sprout up in. Some especially memorable ones: in my ear, on my butt, in the crease of my leg where my inner thigh meets the rest of my body, in my nose, on the back of my neck in my hairline.

Now, these aren't like the normal pimples I always got on my face as a teenager. These zits are massive and exquisitely painful. The ones in my nose even make it hurt to breathe.

All I have to say about this is... WTF? A zit in my ear? My EAR! It's an ear! Why does a zit feel the need to sprout up in my ear? What can it possibly accomplish? And the one in the crease of my leg? I was sure that was a tumor at first.

So how does one handle something like this? Is there a Clearasil made specificially for those persistent ass pimples? And how exactly can I get some Noxzema in my ear without causing hearing damage?

I swear, if it's not depression, it's poorly placed acne. I just can't win.

November 10, 2006 2:23am

This entry isn't going to make a lick of sense. Just think of it as one of those freestyle slam poetry things. Then it will be "artsy", not "incoherent".

So late. Can't sleep. Ran out of the awesome coma pills. Need to go to Wal Mart tomorrow. If my prescription didn't get called in as promised I'm going to be kicking some ass.

The later it gets, the worse I start to feel. I get more upset. Anxiety gets worse. Should I just tough it out, or go back to see the shrink? I don't want to walk around in a drugged haze. If I'm ok 90% of the time, shouldn't I just learn to deal with the remaining 10%?

Angry. Fucking angry.

And just shut up. Stop complaining. I"m tired of hearing your complaining. I'm talking to you, yes, you who is always moody over the dumbest little things. You who can't just accept what life has to offer and appreciate what you have in front of you. Stop complaining and do what you need to do to get through this.

Shit. I could be talking to myself.

I talk to myself a lot.

How am I supposed to get through this depressive episode alone?

November 5, 2006 9:43pm

Friday night I went out to the Bowling Alley/Bar with some friends.

Here are two things I learned:
1)Jagermeister = horrible, horrible hangover
2)I am not capable of socializing like a normal person.

The first needs little or no explanation. I wasn't even drunk on the stuff! The second.....

There were these two guys in the back of the bar playing pool beside us. I thought they were interested in Jess and Connie because, well, Jess and Connie are adorable and these guys were hot. Well, no it was me they wanted, or at least one of them did.

So, we got to talking. The especially hot one was named Thomas and he was a marine- now in the reserves. Works at a federal prison nearby. Very nice guy. Asked me about school and where I was from.

Then I freaked out. I went to the bathroom with Jess and burst into tears. Obviously, I'm not ready for this kind of situation and I fell apart. I went outside to get some air. Jess and Maria came out to calm me down. They offered to go tell him to back off, but I didn't want them to do that. I can handle my own problems.

We went back inside and Thomas hung out with us for the rest of the night. I danced with him. I think he could tell I was distancing myself from him, so he didn't ask for my number. When we left he turned to me and said, "Goodnight, beautiful girl."

I know. Let's all say it together, "Awwwwww".

It could have been much worse. He could have been drunk and vulgar.

So here was a perfectly nice guy and I couldn't handle it.

It's ok, I learned something about myself.

I've also never met someone in a bar before, so that kind of made me uncomfortable too.

But more importantly, I'm pissed at myself for becoming "that woman". That woman who cries in bars. That woman whose girlfriends have to help her fix her mascara. That woman who needs her friends to help her socialize because she can't seem to handle it herself.

Argh!

October 31, 2006 11:49pm

I went over to Maria's place tonight for dinner and to hang out with the girls before they went off to the halloween party (that I refused to participate in).

We had some interesting conversations.

Why to intelligent, attractive women stay in bad relationships that are doomed? Why set themselves up for problems? Why be with men who treat them so badly?

It makes me sad.

But somewhat comforted. At least I'm not the only one.

I know better now, though.

I've been getting to sleep every night and that has been just wonderful!

But the pills I have are 50mg and I take 25mg. This would be much easier if the pills were scored, but they aren't. so I end up with a little pile of dust and crumbs when I cut it. Then I'm trying to make a little pile of the dust and crumbs and figuring out the best way to consume it.

I look like a coke head with my little pile of white powder.

Tomorrow is another day.

October 25, 2006 11:17pm

I've been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately. I usually can't get to bed until 3 or 4 in the morning and even if I sleep for 12 hours I'm tired all day.

So when I went to see the psychiatrist yesterday I asked him what I should do. I assumed he'd give me Ambien or Lunesta or one of those nice drugs that have commercials on TV. Nope, he hands me some free sample boxes of something called Seroquel.

Seroquel is an anti-psychotic with an off albel use as a sleep aid. I was a little hesitant about taking it. He told me to take half a pill, which is 25mg. The "standard" dose, when used for someone who is schizophrenic, can be up to 400mg.

My little half of a pill practically put me in a coma. I had to crawl up the stairs to get into bed. Even when I got up this morning I couldn't walk a straight line.

That is some powerful shit! I can't imagine giving someone 400mg of that. It sure as hell would probably kill me!

Yesterday and today were okay days. Got work done. Well, a little at least. Haven't been feeling as awful as most days.

I'm frustrated with my memory and concentration. My head just isn't as clear as it used to be. Ever since this mess started for me, I really haven't been able to focus on anything.

I want my head back!

October 22, 2006 4:12am

Saturday was very bad.

Actually, as far as I see it Saturday is till here because I haven't gone to bed yet.

I don't know why this is happening to me. I don't know why I deserve this. I don't know why I have to be like this.

I want someone to put their arms around me and let me cry for as long as I want to- until I fall asleep and sleep and sleep until I can't possibly sleep anymore. Sleep and sleep without waking up in a panic. Sleep until I feel rested. Sleep without dreams.

Sleep.

Sleep in the comfort of my bed knowing that even if I did fall apart again I could just go back to sleep.

It's 4:20am. I want to throw up. I keep telling myself that this is all in my head, but my stomach does not seem to believe that.

My stomach, my legs, my chest. Nothing is operating properly. I'm angry. I want to be mean to someone who doesn't deserve it just so they can feel like I do.

Can't do that. That isn't me.

None of this is me. I don't recognize myself. I look in the mirror and am not sure who I am anymore. Tired. Clothes don't fit properly. Sickly looking.

This is crazy. I'm going crazy.

Lack of sleep isn't helping.

This is a nightmare. Maybe I am asleep and I am having a nightmare. Maybe the last month has been a nightmare. Or maybe the last year. The last ten years. Yes, that would be ideal. I'm going to wake up suddenly and realize I'm still 15 years old and everything is still wonderful and I'll know what to do and how to avoid mistakes and how to keep from getting hurt.

I want to wake up.

October 20, 2006 11:09pm

Ever just want to hit something?

Looking over my posts of the last few weeks, I think some explanation is necessary.

I've been sort of spiraling into what I like to think of as "my nutty episode" for months now. I've just finally hit bottom.

I found a psychistrist in town. The official diagnosis is "Major Depression and Generalized Anxiety Disorder." I like having a label for what's happening to me. It lets me put this part of my life into a nice little box so that one day I can look back on it and refer to it as the "Major Depression and GAD of 2006."

It's really hard to describe it without sounding sorry for myself, or being irreverant like a Nora Ephram book.

I think the low point- the absolute low point was when I was just decompensating for absolutely no reason. This was happening every day and multiple times in each day. There wasn't even something specific that would trigger it. I would just go from normal to totally inconsolable- crying, screaming- in a few seconds.

It got so bad that when I wasn't having an episode, I was worrying about when the next one would happen. I always managed to not embarass myself in public. I was able to hold it together just long enough until I could be in the car or back at my place.

Logically, I should have just called someone to talk to, but in that moment it felt like there was nobody in the world. It ended in me sitting on the floor with a blanket in the dark, saying to a dark room, "Somebody please help me."

It's better now since I went and got some help. I don't have the daily meltdowns.

I can't really explain or even understand why this happened to me. Maybe it's years worth of stuff catching up to me. Maybe it's a combination of random crappy stuff and stress.

I just want it to be over. I'm very impatient when it comes to my health.

October 19, 2006 10:39pm

I'm pissed at myself for not enjoying my life more.

Things aren't that bad, so I shouldn't feel the way I do.

It's lonely here.

Go back to see the dr next week. Not sure what to say. Am I better? Sort of? Not melting down like I was, but not particularly happy.

This isn't supposed to happen to me. I'm tough as nails. I can handle anything.

Guess not.

October 17, 2006 3:12pm

I have a friend who is afraid of spiders. Not in the way that most girls are afraid of spiders, though. She is only afraid of the huge ones that are in her apartment.

Last week one night, she called me because there was a spider she had been trying to kill, but couldn't. The fear of the spider overwhelmed her so much that she was in tears.

I started to realize that fears, regardless of what they are of, are very real. Her fear of spiders is as real as my fear of failure and loneliness. It's a paralyzing fear that can't be overcome with rational judgment. If it were that easy, I could just give myself a pep talk and move on.

So when my mother (who, incidentally, was here all weekend) says things like, "Well, you just need to stop thinking so negatively and accept that things don't always work out the way you plan." I get really frustrated because it isn't as simple as just stopping negative thoughts.

That's like saying to an alcoholic, "So just quit drinking if you know it's bad for you."

It sounds easy to anyone who isn't there. And it doesn't make a damn bit of sense to someone who isn't there.

Actually, it doesn't make any sense to me either.

At least I can admit to being irrational.

I have a need to keep control over things in my life. I have a need to plan my life out in 10 year blocks.

I feel like if I don't do that then everything will just be a huge mess.

Maybe life is a mess anyway.

How can I plan my life out for the next 10 years when I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow? I could get a brain tumor and then the next 10 years are totally irrelevant.

Frustrating.

October 12, 2006 11:39pm

Good days and bad- seems to be the story of my life these days.

My mom is coming tomorrow to stay for the weekend. It will be nice to have some company.

Today is a rough day, not sure why.

Decided to take a "mental health day" and stay home.

Watching the Food Network right now.

I want to cook for someone. Want to come over?

October 10, 2006 4:14pm

One of the benefits of having a total life meltdown is that you lose your appetite and lose 10 pounds.

The down side is that none of the clothes fit properly now. I had to go and get some belts, but that just makes my pants bunch up because of the extra material.

I haven't decided yet if I want to try and gain the weight back, or keep it off.

Decisions decisions.

I have pertussis, or at least I think I do. More commonly known as "whooping cough". I had what I thought was a bad cold a few weeks ago and now I am left with a horrible, spasmotic cough that gets worse at night.

It's been a fun few weeks.

October 8, 2006 10:46pm

Feeling better tonight. Not sure why. Just have a more positive outlook on things.

It seems like forever until I get to be home again for good. I wish I could speed it up a little.

Anyway, that's all I have to say for tonight. I'm a little sleepy. I just wanted to let everyone know that I'm doing better. :-)

October 4, 2006 9:59pm

Thanks to all for your kind words and support.

The rut I'm in isn't all related to Mike. That's only a small part of it. It's a year's worth of crappy things that are finally all catching up with me.

It's a combination of anxiety and depression that I'm just now really starting to feel. I've probably had it most of my life to some degree, but the circumstances of the past 9 or 10 months have really made it worse.

My heart starts racing, my chest feels like it's going to cave in, and for a few hours I feel like nothing will ever be good again. No relationship, no friendship, nothing will ever be good because I will always always keep getting hurt. Then it passes and I wait in fear of the next episode.

I'm working on getting it under control now.

Not easy, though.

October 3, 2006 8:08pm

I'm starting to become one of "those women".

One of those women who looks at herself in the mirror and thinks she's just too ugly to love. One of those women who thinks she'll never be happy. One of those women who is sure she'll be alone for the rest of her life.

I hate being one of those women.

It's turning me into a paranoid psycho who can't deal with normal life.

This is not me. This is not the person I have always been.

But maybe that's because I had something in life that gave me some sense of security.

Seriously, what is so wrong with me? What makes me so horrible to be with? You'd think men would be all interested in me...I'm going to be a docto, I have a house, I don't demand a whole lot of attention, I can buy my own jewelry.

Yet they seem to be more interested in the chick with the skinny nose at the bar who is wearing the corset and tight jeans and giggles a lot.

Maybe it's an age thing?

How can the same thing happen to me twice in one year?

Am I cursed?

Just unlucky?

When will it turn around?

October 1, 2006 9:22pm

I have never slept so much or so hard as I have these past two days.

Getting some help with the anxiety.

Went out Friday night. I had a good time. Actually, I was surprised that so many people were happy to see me out.

I've lost some weight over the past few weeks from not eating.

I'm starting to shut down, which isn't good either.

Also getting a cold.

September 29, 2006 9:58am

For the past few weeks I have been having crippling anxiety attacks that have only been getting worse by the day.

This used to happen to me a few times a year and was usually associated with something really stressful- like exams or applying to med school.

2007 has been the worst year of my life. In comparison with some awful things that can happen to people, I guess it's been more on the level of life-changing and emotionally devastating, but not insurmountable.

Anyway, it's just been getting worse and worse to the point that when I'm not having a meltdown, I'm worrying about when the next one will happen.

I finally told Mike about it last Thursday. He felt terrible. He felt responsible- which he isn't. This is me. My own deamons, I guess. He's been going through some of his own personal issues, so I delayed dumping it all on him for a while. He talked with me for over an hour. I made him late for work, but only because I didn't know he was on his way into work when I called. I had been calling him throughout the week and tried a few text messages to get his attention, but he wasn't getting some of my calls or messages. apparently his phone had been cloned and when that happens one misses some of their calls. He was going to go to Verizon first chance he got to get it all taken care of.

He told me not to feel so alone and he completely understands how I feel. I can't just keep swallowing my emotions because that's what he does and it doesn't work. Before he hung up, he told me he loves me and that even though he's been dealing with his own problems, he wants to get himself better so he can be of more use to me.

Sounds great, right?

Then, as of Saturday afternoon his cell phone number is not in service and I have no other way to reach him- besides maybe go to his house which isn't an option. Oh, there's email so I sent one of those, but he hasn't read it yet. He rarely gets to a computer so that doesn't surprise me terribly.

WTF? This is just the shit I need right now. I've decided that either 1) He decided to ditch the phone and get a new number because it was cloned and it was a convenient way to get away from me to not tell me his new number 2) His service was suspended by Verizon so that they didn't have to keep paying for the internaltional calls the cloner was making and he didn't set up a new number yet 3) #2 happened, he has a new number, but he's in such a bad head space he needed to disappear for a while.

#3 worries me because that means he's hurting and he isn't good at reaching out to people.

#1 scares me because it's eerily familiar in that someone tells me on a thursday that they love me and life is dandy, and by saturday the phone is disconnected and they've moved.

Not much luck finding a shrink out here in the mountains either. The one in town I called can't see me until the end of october and the receptionist was more interested in getting my insurance information than in finding a way to get me in earlier.

For some reason, the people I care about are always hurting me. It may not always be intentional, but it's happening anyway.

Which is making me having some very intense trust issues. If this is what my life is going to be like- why bother ever getting close to anyone- friends, family, whatever. It's just going to end up destroying me.

September 23, 2006 11:16am

BBM made some good additions to my list in comments.

That reminds me of two more.....

When a doctor prescribes something for high cholesterol, high blood pressure, heart disease, kidney problems, or whatever chronic issue one may have, do not stop taking the pills as soon as that problem is under control.

I'm always amazed when I hear a patient say, "Well, now that my cholesterol is better, can I stop taking the medicine and go back to the way I used to eat?" This is not poison ivy. It doesn't just "go away". If you're better it's because the drugs worked so keep taking them!

Another fun one is not finishing a bottle of antibiotics because you feel so gosh darn great after taking it for a week, why bother for two weeks? After all, the only reason they give you extra pills is so that the doctor's office can make more money on your next visit when you get sick again and need another prescription, right? Wrong. If you don't take everything in the bottle, you might have more bacteria hanging out in you- laying low for the right moment to multiply into crazy monsters that are now immune to whatever you tried to kill them with the first time.

And no, you can't give the rest of your pills to your friend Ethel, I don't care how close her symptoms are to yours. You might kill Ethel and then how would you feel?

September 22, 2006 11:13pm

Another weekend...

Still no Stud.

Had a really nice talk with Mike the other night. I hope he's able to come and visit soon.

Tonight, I'm thinking about how tired I am of people at my school complaining. They complain about everything- the bathrooms, the administration, the length of our lectures, the amount of material we have to learn, questions on tests, length of tests, time allowed on tests, when tests are given. ENOUGH ALREADY.

Two years ago when we were all applying to medical school and were just hoping that someplace, any place would take us I bet there were no complaints then. If someone said, "Okay, you can go to medical school, but you have to sit on a wooden bench during lectures for 10 hours each day. You can't ever bring a cushion. You are allowed only one meal of beans and rice daily. You must sleep on a straw mat. these are the conditions, take ir or leave it." Oh I'm sure plenty of them would take it just to be able to be in medical school. Now that they're here- they bitch and moan and complain constantly.

SHUT UP. I'm so tired of people thinking they know how to run a school better than anyone else. That medical students think they know what they need to know and how it should be presented because years and years of medical education obviously hasn't worked. No, we've been producing nothing but horrible doctors in this country. Nobody knows anything. Look at poor Angelina Jolie. She had to go to a 3rd world country to deliver her baby because there weren't any hospitals capable of handling her pregnancy here.

We have some of the best medical care in the world available in this country. And how did we get to that point? That's right, by having people go to medical school, sit on their ass, hear a lecture, and LEARN SOMETHING.

Stop running your mouth and open a book.

Jeez!

On a related note, I get really frustrated when I hear people say "doctors don't know anything". This is usually said by someone who has been to see their doctor complaining of a cough for 6 weeks and the exact cause of it is unknown...therefore making the treatment elusive. The same goes for any other non-descript symptom such as "fatigue", "rash", "flu-like symptoms", and "It hurts here."

It's not that doctors don't know anything. The reason it takes so long to diagnose some people is because there is a shit load of diseases that can cause problems like this. After you eliminate the immediately life-threatening or disabeling, it gets harder and harder to figure out what to do.

Then there are the people who have totally bizarre diseases. They usually end up on a tv show on TLC or on the Discovery Health channel. It makes every doctor who treated them look like a total fool because they try to diagnose and treat them with the more common ailments. Finally, after years and years they go to a specialist somewhere on the other side of the country who diagnoses them immediately as having a rare, strange disease that less than 1,000 people have in the entire country. It also just happens that this person has devoted their career to researching this one disease. They look like a genius, and the poor internist they saw 2 years ago who has never even heard of this problem looks like an idiot.

Not very fair.

When you hear hoofbeats, think horses not zebras.

So if you have a fever and chills and the dr tells you that you have a virus- go home, drink fluids, take tylenol, and rest it is because that works for most people. Sorry if it doesn't work for you, but don't expect anyone to start testing you for rare diseases with unusual presentations just because you think you're so special that you must have something different. While it isn't nice to bring up money, it is a reality and it's just to expensive to order lots of tests on people when it is unlikely that they have something other than the flu.

And one more thing! I know it's our responsibility as your care provider to ask the right questions, but please try to give all the information you can- even if it doesn't seem relevant at the time. For example, "I've had a headache for two days." Might make me think stroke in someone who is over 50 and had high blood pressure. But, if they kindly mention, "The headache started when a brick fell on my head." I can save mayself and them a lot of panic and unnecessary procedures. I know lots of things don't seem relevant, but it doesn't hurt to mention them. Let the Dr decide if it is important or not. If nothing else, it makes for an interesting day. I love a good story!