Doctor Season.

For some reason all my specialist appointments (well, my 2 specialist appointments-epileptologist & endocrinologist) end up within a week of each other, consistently. Almost always.

Last time around, the epileptologist one went kind of like this. K is me, N is neurologist:

N: "So have you been having seizures?"
K: "Yes, especially when people flash lights in my face-because people are inconsiderate asshats, this happens a lot-or when I have to sit under a fluorescent light while the lecture slides are presented from a computer hooked up to a projector and they have a blazing white background!"
N: "And what do they feel like?"
K: *Insert 30 minutes of describing the spaciness that is an aura, the hell-if-I-know that is a partial complex seizure, and the wanting to die that is the postictal state here*
N: "So has anyone told you what they look like?"
K: "....yes. And here are phone pictures of me postictal as postictal gets. I don't remember taking them. Well, I remember the day after one. Seriously, I wanted to die."

And then she wanted to do all sorts of putting my meds into approved, ish, high ranges. OK fine whatever. Insert explanations of how all this can go wrong or right here. Exciting stuff.

Epileptologist this time:

N: "So have you been having seizures?"
K: "Only the triggered ones..."
N: "and how often is that?"
K: "Whenever entitled inconsiderate people decide the 'NO FLASH PHOTOGRAPHY' sign at swing dance doesn't apply to them & I can't chase them down and tell them they suck fast enough."
N: "...doesn't someone else do that?"
K: "NOPE! The person who is supposed to doesn't like making or enforcing rules. She was pissed enough about putting up the most passive sign in the history of the world. It has a smiley face FFS." (yep, I swear in the doc's office).
N: "That's unfortunate. How is school?"
K: "I got a 4.0 this term."
N: "What was your major again?"
K: "Biology/premed."
N: "Fantastic! So I don't think we need to do anything with your medication, but they do need to be more aggressive with that flash photography thing."
K: "...yeah, that's something that isn't going to happen. I'm taking the lack of enforcement as permission to be as nasty as possible about it."
N: "Oh those poor photographers. Have a great holiday & I'll see you in 6 months!"

Endocrinologist last time:

E: "It says you have adrenal insufficiency. Why do you have adrenal insufficiency?"
K: "No one knows. No tumor, no surgery, it's a mystery."
E: "We should find out. And change your steroid. And find out."
K: "I'm not opposed to changing my steroid, but I'm not sure any tests would show anything we don't already know...that I don't make ACTH."
E: "We should find out! *insert making plans for another ACTH stim test here. And wanting to look at my old MRIs, which are maybe 18 months old*
K: "I'll do it, but there's unlikely to be any mystery solved at all..."
E: "But you had an unexplained crash! That's unusual! We need to solve it!"
K: "Well, suing the school is stressful and I was probably sick and didn't notice. It wouldn't be the first time."
E: "We should at least look!"
K: "If you insist, Doctor House."
E: "What?"
K: "Nevermind."

And I did have the ACTH stim test and a draw of every hormone known to man and some that I'm pretty sure are just hypotheses at this point. The results were nearly identical to the first time I had one.

This visit:

E: "You switched your steroids? Is that going well?"
K: "Yep."
E: "You know the sick day rules?"
K: "Yep. And the surgery rules. And the vomit and injury rules"
E: "OK good. Your tests indicate that your ACTH release capacity is about 15% of normal & your adrenals function at about 50%"
K: "Alright."
E: "What do you do for work again?"
K: "I coach gymnastics..."
E: "Where?"
K: "NERDYNAME Gymnastics in TOWN"
E: "And what's a good age to start that?"
K: "...whenever someone has an interest...we have Mommy & Me through adults..."
E: "I'm asking because I'd like my daughter to have more activity & gymnastics isn't weather dependent. Do you have a website?"
K: 0.o *writes down information*
E: "We will check that out. See you in 9 months!"
K: 0.o 0.o 0.o all the way back to the lobby

Yeah. It's always exciting. And then there's new general practitioners.

GP: "It says here you have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome."
K: "Sure do."
GP: "So what kind? Are your big joints or little joints more effected?" *looks waaaaay too excited*
K: "What used to be called type 2. I'm a 9/9 on the Beighton scale & am lucky to not have developed much pain, even though I dislocate easily."
GP: "And skin manifestations?" *Is seriously bouncing up and down."
K: " I'm covered in mystery bruis...oh, wait, you want to stretch my skin, don't you?" *hold out forearm* "Go for it."
GP: *looks embarrassed, then stretches my forearm skin & I think it made his week*

Yeah. Exciting.

Since I couldn't livetweet it

I had every intention of livetweeting as much as I could of my surgery yesterday (Laparoscopy, for endometriosis). Partly for the humor-I'm funny when drugged-and partly to help me remember things, since most people don't remember much before or after.

So I'm gunna put it here instead, so that I can remember what I remember.

My roommate's mom came & got me just before 8:00AM-8:30 check in, 10:00am surgery. They asked me a bunch of questions that I'd answered before, kept asking how I was (hungry, thirsty, & terrified), kept making sure I was the Neurodivergent K who's chart they had, stuff like that.

The gown was, like, recyclable. Seriously. It was purple and made of this paper/cotton mix. It plugged in & inflated these plastic bag things with hot air...it looked like I had absolutely comically GIGANTIC pecs. Unfortunately it sounded like a vacuum-I would have liked it warmer but it was so loud.

So after I got all gownified the official presurgical nurses came in to do my IV and make sure the incision site was as clean as could be & to take my necklace & bracelet from me. Noooo. The IV lady was really good...most people need a few tries, but it was in before I noticed. They were asking the same standard questions, I was answering the same way I always would (so, most people read me as a bit quirky or obnoxious), and they kept telling me I was adorable. Weird, but better than the people who are dealing with my anesthetized ass thinking I'm a jerk, right?

It took a long time for the anesthesiologist to come in. Like, a LONG TIME. Apparently my chart had walked away. But he told me exactly what they were going to give me & explained how they were going to prevent anesthesia awareness (a rare phenomenon that really really freaks me out). Telling me that it's rare isn't helpful, so are a lot of things that I've experienced, but telling me that even those rare cases mostly occur in emergency surgery when they can't fully anesthetize because blood pressure is already too low-that helped.

Then MY doctor came in & asked how I was. Terrified was apparently a healthy answer. I appreciated my anxiety not being written off-so often it's seen as silly. Also, she had on bright orange shoes, which is the silly kind of detail that I notice that makes things like "getting four holes punched in your abdomen & your innards cleaned off" a bit less intimidating. Weird? Yep. Yep I am.

Then they gave me Versed in an injection & everything got all fuzzy-the first thing to go is always my ability to focus my eyes together. The next thing I knew I was waking up in a room with a LOT of medical people & a lot of groggy people and I felt naked. First conscious word: Naked. Second conscious word: thirsty. Third conscious word: blanket. I took a fuzzy (and frankly offensive, it's covered in puzzle pieces but was made with loving intent, and my cat loves it) blanket & they gave that to me. And then ice chips. They told me to go back to sleep, but it was too noisy & bright.

I only vaguely remember being wheeled back to the room I started in, but I ended up there & kept asking for water & if I should have my noon meds. They wanted me to have a few more ice chips first. So I did. And then I drank. And drank more. And took my meds. And drank more. They left some crackers there, so I ate them. Mmm, club crackers...this nurse was kinda...uh...spacey, or else I was being very confusing, because nothing I asked got an answer without being asked again.


They made sure I could pee & then I got to go home. I was really out of it physically-like it was taking my brain a few steps to connect with my body-so I kept my eyes closed the whole time in the car.

And then the cat cuddled with me, I slept, and that was really that.

Boring blog post, yeah? Less boring, I guess: they took out several endometriosis implants & one of my ovaries had almost no mobility because of scar tissue or something attaching it too tightly to the pelvic cavity, so they're testing the shit out of that shit. So, I am not a whiny baby-there was stuff in there that causes pain. And it's gone now. Bahahaha.