Despite being on a course of antibiotics, the fever has returned. I am extremely fatigued and the upper right pain continues.
My doctor, in response to me asking him if my latest tests showing an “atrophied pancreas” could be the cause of my pain, stated no. He also said it isn’t pancreatic disease anyway.
His tone indicated to me that he’s pretty much fed up. And I had such hopes for him.
I imagine my reply telling him the fever is back will not sit well with him.
Doesn’t matter. I am in a snit, I’m exhausted, and I’m done with doctors.
This will either go away or get so bad that even the dumbest of physicians will be able to figure out what it is. So, time is the answer I guess.
What it isn’t, is factitious. I get no joy out of being prodded and poked, made to drink obnoxious radioactive concoctions, and shoved into tubes that precipitate anxiety attacks.
I went grocery shopping yesterday and had to leave halfway, due to fatigue. I struggled up the stairs with 3 bags of groceries and spent the rest of the day in bed.
3 bags of groceries, mind you, that cost $100 in food stamps.
Peanut butter, coffee, eggs, dried milk, bulgur, wholegrain bread, kefir, cauliflower, broccoli, corn tortillas, 1 pound of cheese, 2 boxes of fiber crackers, and a gallon of water (fracking, remember?). I am putting this all down for the future readers so they can see how much food cost in 2015. I buy organic but come on!
The lady I shared the van with spent $60 and bought snack cakes, mac and cheese, and dried mixes. She’s in a wheelchair and has to carry that into her house.
As I carried my stuff inside and up the stairs, I realized that’s another factor in why disabled people who are poor eat as we do – the actual weight of the food. It’s too hard to carry without help. Shitty food = light-weight food. Think about that next time you go to the store and you’ll see what I mean.
Anyway, until next time…
Not sure that ” like” is the correct response.