My Pet Rock

About forty years ago my hubby scooped me up off the bathroom floor, deposited the kids at a  neighbour's and took me to the Emergency Room at a nearby hospital. All I can tell you about that was that the pain that put me on that floor was worse than childbirth but by the time we got to the hospital it had subsided. Luckily the doctor on call was someone who knew us and after giving me a quick check over, the two men had a little chat about mundane things while he kept one eye on me. He ended up saying there was a strange bug going around and that I probably had that. I was sent home with orders from the doctor for my hubby to administer some TLC.

Over the next year or so I would get a strange feeling in my stomach area. I would be fine and be walking somewhere and it would come on me. It wasn't a pain but it had the tendency to make me put my hand on my abdomen as I walked. There was no sense in trying to getting a doctor's appointment as I would never be able to describe it unless it was happening.

One day I was downtown near my doctor's office when it started. I wandered in and told the receptionist that I needed 30 seconds of his time. She, of course, didn't think that was possible. I told her I could only describe this while it was happening and that after that I could make whatever appointment was deemed necessary. The doctor saw me and ordered an ultrasound.

When I went for the ultrasound the technician spotted something and told me that she was going to roll me over and if it moved it was a gallstone.  Well, I rolled over and she was awful quiet for a while before sighing and saying, "There it goes."  So when I got back to the doctor's office and he told me about gallstones, I figured maybe I had passed one earlier and that was what that bad pain was all about.  I asked if changing my diet would cure the problem and he said it would not. I then decided I would eat what I wanted because if he decided it needed to come out it would be better if that happened while I was young and healthy enough to survive an operation. I never had a bad pain again and if I got that strange feeling too often I would just cut back on bacon and fries for a while.

A few months ago I went to the ER again with a pain that had been moving to a different location every day for a week. It would have taken 3 weeks just to see my own doctor (things have changed over the years, eh).  I explained the pains and mentioned the gallstone. The ER doctor didn't think it was that. She tested me for all kinds of things. I had blood and urine samples taken, a chest x-ray, and some good poking.  The ER doctor suggested that I come back the next day for an ultrasound. Before that test, I warned the technician that she would find a big gallstone in there. I knew about it but it had never bothered me in the past 40 years. The ultrasound showed the thing was now the size of a golf ball!  I found out later the doctor was actually looking for kidney stones.  I don't have those.

The doctor asked why, since I knew I had a large gallstone, I still had it. Simple question. The simple answer was that nobody had ever suggested that I have it taken out. It has never bothered me. In fact, I had given my current doctor the blast for not checking my gallbladder during my yearly routine checkups (when we had such things) and she said, "Well, you don't have a gallbladder problem." I informed her then that I'd had gallstones for years.  She seemed genuinely surprised when she got a report about the size of it. Suddenly it seemed the doctors thought it was best to get rid of the thing. I said again that it had never bothered me in the past 40 years. But they kind of made a point of stressing that if it did decide to do something it would be really bad. The next thing I knew I was scheduled for surgery......within a month, if you can believe that!

So this week, just one month after meeting the surgeon, I gave up my gallbladder. I have heard of others getting to see the gallstones that were taken out of them, and some even kept them. I never saw mine. Maybe I should have asked for it. After 40 years of being part of me, it was kind of like a pet rock.
  

A Trick of the Eyes

One never knows what the next day will bring. Sometimes it's something good you weren't expecting and sometimes it's quite the opposite.
One day, more than 15 years ago, during a routine eye exam, I was told I had developed cataracts. For a few years, I was told to get my eyes checked every six months. OHIP covered that and I suddenly no longer had to pay for eye exams while my hubby still did, at least until he was 65. The cataracts have never developed to the point where it was time to have them removed and eventually the eye exams became more of a yearly thing.
This year, when I went to have my eyes examined, the optometrist discovered there was elevated pressure on my eyes and she sent me to a specialist. There I discovered that the cataracts were actually pushing my irises forward causing the natural fluid drainage system to be blocked. I was told I had closed angle glaucoma and was being scheduled for laser surgery. The idea was to prevent damage to the optic nerve so I wouldn't go blind.
I always say that no matter how healthy you are, by the time you turn 60 your body starts to play tricks on you. One moment I'm fine and even my cataracts aren't ready to come out, and the next, the darn things are creating another way to cause me to lose my sight.
It took just over a month to get my laser surgery. In the meantime, I had a chance to do some research. I found that they would freeze my eyeballs, just like when they did the pressure test, and then I'd have my eyes zapped and it would all be over in less than five minutes. The operation would create a new hole in my iris so the fluid could drain into my bloodstream and relieve the pressure.
There were all kinds of warnings to follow the doctor's instructions after the proceedure. I also read warnings of how I might experience scratchy eyes, blurred vision and/or bloodshot eyes. All this would last just a matter of hours or at most, a couple of days. I felt well prepared and not nervous at all, though I wasn't sure we could still enjoy the evening out we already had planned for that night. We were scheduled to celebrate our 44th wedding anniversary, which was the very next day.
We showed up at the hospital where I was given registration documents and told to go up the stairs and proceed three-quarters of the way down the hall until we came to a big eyeball. We went all the way but found no such symbol so we found someone to direct us. Once seated in the waiting area we had been sent to I noticed a sign that listed two doctors whose patients that area was meant for.  My doctor was not one of them. I went to a deserted registration area down the hall where I had to ring a bell and disturb someone who told me that was the right place to wait. Several minutes later she directed someone else to the same area and told him to put his registration forms in the bin hanging on the wall in the corridor leading off the main hallway just across from where I was waiting. I still had my forms as no one had told me to do that. I deposited my forms into the bin and hoped that I was doing the right thing.
The area was getting more crowded as everyone came with another to drive them home. Eventually, a man came out with a handful of registration forms and started putting drops in all the waiting patient's eyes. Everyone but me, that is. As he walked away everyone turned and stared at me. I had heard him say the drops would take about 20 minutes to work so I said, "You are being dilated. I'm going to be frozen."  Freezing only takes seconds I discovered when it was done during the examination I'd had previously. So, of course, I got called in first.
The doctor explained that some people have told him they feel "something" like a little electric shock or a pinprick perhaps, while others don't feel anything at all. He just wanted me to be aware that I might feel something and not to worry about it. He did not freeze my eyes. He just shone a light into each eye and told me to stare straight ahead and then zapped me. I felt nothing in the first eye which he said went easier than expected. I felt it in the second one, however,  and he actually zapped that one twice. I wouldn't call it painful though. 
He said he would send a report to my optometrist. I am under no restrictions and can even resume my exercise class. I have no drops or follow up visit to make.  He said he doesn't need to see me again and the next time I'm to go to my regular optometrist is next year for my yearly exam.
I am not bloodshot, nor do I have scratchy eyes or blurred vision. The whole experience was very quick and easy and the threat of blindness has been eliminated. I was not expecting any of this but it has a  happy ending. I am very thankful for modern science.
I wonder what trick my body will play on me next.

Are Doctors Working the System?

We hear all this talk about doctor shortages, long wait times, and the expensive medical system that will just get more expensive as the population ages.  I have some insight into why this is happening and possibly a quick cure.

Thirty-eight years ago I had a little medical problem that my doctor quickly fixed by doing a simple procedure in his office.  Ten years ago, I had the same problem and was sent to a specialist to have it dealt with. When I mentioned my GP had done it in the past, I was told, "They don't do that any more." Apparently the medical system had decided it was better to pay someone who commanded a higher fee. 

Recently the problem cropped up again and off I went, once again, to see a specialist.  This doctor, without even examining me, or having the benefit of the tests my GP had ordered, decided immediately to book me for surgery.  How this doctor knows I even need a surgery is beyond me, but it will mean making extra bucks, right?

So this simple little problem that was once fixed easily in the doctor's office, now will take seven appointments to remedy, instead of one:  the original GP visit, a trip to the hospital for tests, a consultation with a specialist, another with the anesthesiologist, the surgery itself (which will involve who knows how many people), a follow up visit with the specialist/surgeon, and more than likely one with my own GP after it's all over with.  No wonder our medical system is over extended.

I see no reason for all this fuss. It's a minor medical problem.  It doesn't bother me and it's easily taken care of.  I'm starting to think the doctors all want a piece of the action, just to boost their incomes.  If they weren't so busy making a mountain out of a molehill, perhaps there would be more of them to go around, and more people could be seen in less time.  While that may not save money, it would at least be used more efficiently.

And for the record, I do hope to get a second opinion, or at least be properly examined before going forward.