Do Over
I think the NICU is making me flare.
"take care of yourself"
"let us know if you need anything"
Yes, please, I would like a new body now. This one used to be great but now it just sits around plotting against itself. In fact, give me two. I want life insurance now.
Short of that, what is anyone supposed to do? What am I supposed to do? It's impossible to "take care of" myself when I'm working 30 hour no sleep shifts, 80 hours per week. That leaves nothing left.
And my head doesn't seem to hold onto information like it used to. Maybe I was always this way, or maybe it is the strokes. I don't know. I just know that I can't seem to remember things I just read. I get confused in the details. I think I've done things that I haven't. I can't remember what happened. I can't remember names as well.
So what DO I do?
I seriously think I'm flaring. I've had left and now right elbow olecranon bursitis the past few days. Both of my knees are boggy and painful with arthritis. My head is hurting again. I get so tired. How do I know what a flare is?
I saw my rheumatologist yesterday. No decrease in the prednisone. Same everything else, too. He agreed about the arthritis in my knees. No x-rays though. Drew some blood tests. I wish they were back already to see if they track flares or not. He was nice as always, but some of the things he says I just don't need to hear now...or maybe ever.
For example, I told him about the woman I met while I was waiting in the coumadin clinic waiting room, which is shared with a rheumatology clinic. This woman is all made up fancy with a big hat and lots of make up. I'd seen her as I checked in and she clearly has bad joint pain. And a long course of it, too. I'm trying to study for a test, but she sits next to me in the crowded waiting room full of people who are all older than me. I proceed to politely ignore her but she goes on to tell me all about her boyfriends race horses and how she would have been a jocky if she didn't get sick when she was in her teens. And all about her chemotherapy courses. All about her two hip replacements. Her joint pains. Her medications. She also has had kidney disease with at least one if not two transplants. I think she even said she was on dialysis for a while. Has osteoporosis from the prednisone. She could never have kids.
As she goes on and on, I'm trying to suppress thinking about what she might have. Really because I aleady knew. But I didn't want to ask and confirm. Should've know with someone that chatty that she'd tell me anyway, "Lupus is a terrible disease."
Fortunately, I was called in to have my finger poked and learn that my coumadin is sub theraputic just as she started to go on about the rest of her complications.
(Fortunately?)
Anyway, I tell my rheumatologist about her and he says, "At least she's still alive."
I guess. Although I don't want to live like that. I don't want to end up like that.
"You know, 20 years ago, a diagnosis of lupus meant you had a five year 50% survival rate," he goes on to smilingly inform me. And also says that pediatric rheumatology is more interesting because the patients who are diagnosed earlier are usually at the sicker end of the spectrum.
I'm past the phase when this was even remotely interesting or unique or anything. It seems to be all people know me for at work anymore.
I'm mostly just mad that my life now has all kinds of requirements that I never had to deal with before.
He looked at my face closely as I was leaving, and warned me to stay out of the sun. Sunscreen. I know that. And I've been trying to be careful. It's irritating to me, though. Everytime I can't do something it's a constant reminder of this whole stupid thing. Lately I've just been doing it more anyway.
I visited my friend in LA last weekend and he wanted to go to the beach. So we met another friend of his there and laid on the beach for a while. I'm initially trying to be good and have block 55 on and keep my long sleeved shirt and pants and big hat on. But I can't even play in the waves? Fuck that. I did anyway. I got sand all down my bathing suit, but it felt great to be out there in the sun and water and surf and forget for a little while.
And I took the scenic way home from my doctor's appointment yesterday (through La Jolla). I had to go post call and had slept maybe a half hour the night before so I was exhausted, but they won't let me go to my doctor during work time, so there aren't any other options. Anyway, I drove by the Cove and all sorts of people were out walking around and exploring the tide pools and having picnics. I wanted to go for a walk but it was still sort of sunny out. I stayed in the car for a while. Even drove a little further. Then decided that I wanted to walk on the shore, at least a little. So I did. I did.
I'm sick of having to consider these restrictions every day. "When can I sneak away from rounds for a moment to take my medications?" "How can I work out with my knees hurting?" "The pool is in the sun. So I'll have to find another one or go at night." "When will I find time to go to all my doctors' appointments?" "Is it the medication making me feel this way?" "Are the clots gone?" "Was I really this spacey and stupid all along?" "How am I going to do this residency that even completely healthy people struggle through?" "When will I have time to pick up my meds?" "How will I afford all these extra medication and copay and labratory expenses?"
Maybe I should quit. I don't think I can afford it. Maybe I could switch to family med and they would give me credit for an intern year with what I've done. How am I going to do three more years of this?
I'm playing hookey now. Sort of. There were too many people in clinic so my preceptor said I could leave. I guess maybe I could have gone back to the hell that is the NICU but I didn't. I have to do work that I was supposed to do two days ago but no one told me until today when three people told me like it was some huge secret awful mistake, when all it is really it more redundant paperwork. The NICU drowns us in numbers, paperwork, changing plans, uncertainty, and wasted time.
I've been hanging out with my neighbors some. It's nice to have friends close. It sort of feels like an upgrade of the dorm comradarie in college. There are three of use that were born within a week of each other (out of ten who live here). Though Ben just moved, which is a bummer because he is a distractingly beautiful man, and nice. Bob wants me to watch a movie with him tonight. I'll have to see how I'm feeling (even that...I hate having to think about that restriction). He's very considerate and sweet. I don't want anything right now. That's what happened with Steve. I thought maybe if I could just focus on work I could manage to at least function satisfactorally in one arena of my life.
And now I'm surrounded by all sort of mothers and daddies and babies and pregnant women all so excited and expectant and hopeful. They're worried, too, because they're in the NICU, but they are there.
In "dead baby conference" (where they show us pathology of aborted fetuses and placentas--I'm sure it has a more proper name, but I don't know it), they talked about one mother who was over 40 and had all sorts of medical illnesses of her own and got pregnant with intrauterine insemination--which is a sort of thing you do if you can't get pregnant the normal (more fun) way. The comment from the crowd there was to the effect that she never should have gotten pregnant in the first place given her illnesses. I wonder if they'd say that about me now, too. Or if it is even fair to the baby even if I can get pregnant. Even if anyone wants to have a baby with me ever now that I'm all broken and sick.
My preceptor from clinic said today that it doesn't make any sense to go into medicine for any sort of money now because you could make just at much doing anything else if you work hard and do it well. Not a great time for me to hear this since this training is litearlly eating up my time and my body...and for what? He said that he read about a hair dressor in San Diego who makes $120K. I'm not good at doing hair either, though.
"take care of yourself"
"let us know if you need anything"
Yes, please, I would like a new body now. This one used to be great but now it just sits around plotting against itself. In fact, give me two. I want life insurance now.
Short of that, what is anyone supposed to do? What am I supposed to do? It's impossible to "take care of" myself when I'm working 30 hour no sleep shifts, 80 hours per week. That leaves nothing left.
And my head doesn't seem to hold onto information like it used to. Maybe I was always this way, or maybe it is the strokes. I don't know. I just know that I can't seem to remember things I just read. I get confused in the details. I think I've done things that I haven't. I can't remember what happened. I can't remember names as well.
So what DO I do?
I seriously think I'm flaring. I've had left and now right elbow olecranon bursitis the past few days. Both of my knees are boggy and painful with arthritis. My head is hurting again. I get so tired. How do I know what a flare is?
I saw my rheumatologist yesterday. No decrease in the prednisone. Same everything else, too. He agreed about the arthritis in my knees. No x-rays though. Drew some blood tests. I wish they were back already to see if they track flares or not. He was nice as always, but some of the things he says I just don't need to hear now...or maybe ever.
For example, I told him about the woman I met while I was waiting in the coumadin clinic waiting room, which is shared with a rheumatology clinic. This woman is all made up fancy with a big hat and lots of make up. I'd seen her as I checked in and she clearly has bad joint pain. And a long course of it, too. I'm trying to study for a test, but she sits next to me in the crowded waiting room full of people who are all older than me. I proceed to politely ignore her but she goes on to tell me all about her boyfriends race horses and how she would have been a jocky if she didn't get sick when she was in her teens. And all about her chemotherapy courses. All about her two hip replacements. Her joint pains. Her medications. She also has had kidney disease with at least one if not two transplants. I think she even said she was on dialysis for a while. Has osteoporosis from the prednisone. She could never have kids.
As she goes on and on, I'm trying to suppress thinking about what she might have. Really because I aleady knew. But I didn't want to ask and confirm. Should've know with someone that chatty that she'd tell me anyway, "Lupus is a terrible disease."
Fortunately, I was called in to have my finger poked and learn that my coumadin is sub theraputic just as she started to go on about the rest of her complications.
(Fortunately?)
Anyway, I tell my rheumatologist about her and he says, "At least she's still alive."
I guess. Although I don't want to live like that. I don't want to end up like that.
"You know, 20 years ago, a diagnosis of lupus meant you had a five year 50% survival rate," he goes on to smilingly inform me. And also says that pediatric rheumatology is more interesting because the patients who are diagnosed earlier are usually at the sicker end of the spectrum.
I'm past the phase when this was even remotely interesting or unique or anything. It seems to be all people know me for at work anymore.
I'm mostly just mad that my life now has all kinds of requirements that I never had to deal with before.
He looked at my face closely as I was leaving, and warned me to stay out of the sun. Sunscreen. I know that. And I've been trying to be careful. It's irritating to me, though. Everytime I can't do something it's a constant reminder of this whole stupid thing. Lately I've just been doing it more anyway.
I visited my friend in LA last weekend and he wanted to go to the beach. So we met another friend of his there and laid on the beach for a while. I'm initially trying to be good and have block 55 on and keep my long sleeved shirt and pants and big hat on. But I can't even play in the waves? Fuck that. I did anyway. I got sand all down my bathing suit, but it felt great to be out there in the sun and water and surf and forget for a little while.
And I took the scenic way home from my doctor's appointment yesterday (through La Jolla). I had to go post call and had slept maybe a half hour the night before so I was exhausted, but they won't let me go to my doctor during work time, so there aren't any other options. Anyway, I drove by the Cove and all sorts of people were out walking around and exploring the tide pools and having picnics. I wanted to go for a walk but it was still sort of sunny out. I stayed in the car for a while. Even drove a little further. Then decided that I wanted to walk on the shore, at least a little. So I did. I did.
I'm sick of having to consider these restrictions every day. "When can I sneak away from rounds for a moment to take my medications?" "How can I work out with my knees hurting?" "The pool is in the sun. So I'll have to find another one or go at night." "When will I find time to go to all my doctors' appointments?" "Is it the medication making me feel this way?" "Are the clots gone?" "Was I really this spacey and stupid all along?" "How am I going to do this residency that even completely healthy people struggle through?" "When will I have time to pick up my meds?" "How will I afford all these extra medication and copay and labratory expenses?"
Maybe I should quit. I don't think I can afford it. Maybe I could switch to family med and they would give me credit for an intern year with what I've done. How am I going to do three more years of this?
I'm playing hookey now. Sort of. There were too many people in clinic so my preceptor said I could leave. I guess maybe I could have gone back to the hell that is the NICU but I didn't. I have to do work that I was supposed to do two days ago but no one told me until today when three people told me like it was some huge secret awful mistake, when all it is really it more redundant paperwork. The NICU drowns us in numbers, paperwork, changing plans, uncertainty, and wasted time.
I've been hanging out with my neighbors some. It's nice to have friends close. It sort of feels like an upgrade of the dorm comradarie in college. There are three of use that were born within a week of each other (out of ten who live here). Though Ben just moved, which is a bummer because he is a distractingly beautiful man, and nice. Bob wants me to watch a movie with him tonight. I'll have to see how I'm feeling (even that...I hate having to think about that restriction). He's very considerate and sweet. I don't want anything right now. That's what happened with Steve. I thought maybe if I could just focus on work I could manage to at least function satisfactorally in one arena of my life.
And now I'm surrounded by all sort of mothers and daddies and babies and pregnant women all so excited and expectant and hopeful. They're worried, too, because they're in the NICU, but they are there.
In "dead baby conference" (where they show us pathology of aborted fetuses and placentas--I'm sure it has a more proper name, but I don't know it), they talked about one mother who was over 40 and had all sorts of medical illnesses of her own and got pregnant with intrauterine insemination--which is a sort of thing you do if you can't get pregnant the normal (more fun) way. The comment from the crowd there was to the effect that she never should have gotten pregnant in the first place given her illnesses. I wonder if they'd say that about me now, too. Or if it is even fair to the baby even if I can get pregnant. Even if anyone wants to have a baby with me ever now that I'm all broken and sick.
My preceptor from clinic said today that it doesn't make any sense to go into medicine for any sort of money now because you could make just at much doing anything else if you work hard and do it well. Not a great time for me to hear this since this training is litearlly eating up my time and my body...and for what? He said that he read about a hair dressor in San Diego who makes $120K. I'm not good at doing hair either, though.
posted by S. at 3:27 PM
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