Medical Maladies and Doctor Diatribes

Spending the day at the Washington Athletic Club with my dear friend Kristin, who is battling pancreatic cancer, inspired me to start swimming regularly again. But it was my STAT trip to the hospital on Saturday that scared me into a promise to myself that I'd keep up the regular physical activity!

I was drifting off to sleep in front of the TV last Friday, as I often do. I had turned on one of those late-night TV movies and was somewhere between sleep and consciousness when I heard the announcer ask me if I had pain in my leg. 'Why yes I do,' I replied (or didn't), in my state of semi-consciousness. 'But it's no biggie, I'm sure. Just the incessant beginnings of a cramp...'

"The pain in your leg could be a serious precursor to a heart attack or even a stroke," the 70's-handsome sing-songy announcer replied (or didn't).

"A heart attack or even a stroke?" I woke up fully at that point and shot the Adam West clone a snooty, "Well I'll go for the casual heart attack then, bub!"

I mentioned what I'd heard to Tom and he suggested that I call the doctor first thing in the morning, which I did. The doctor saw me right away, even though I assured him that it's probably some pesky month-long wanna-be cramp and surely no biggie. Thanks very much and have a nice day.

But he wouldn't let me leave. Instead he scribbled something on an official looking form and practically shoved it into my hand saying, "I want you to head to the hospital right now for a venous ultrasound (what's that?) and an x-ray. There's a possibility that this is a blot clot that's about to beak loose."

"Aw doc," I pleaded. "It's nuttin'. I'm sure!"

But he'd have none of it and shood me off to one of the many Seattle medical centers. (The fact that he allowed me to drive told me that he couldn't have been all that worried!)

At the hospital, they whisked me into the tests immediately. I'm thinking that maybe the words "URGENT" written all over the paper work had a slight influence.

The tests were a piece of cake (gotta love those non-invasive sorts!) and when they were all done the tech said, simply, "You're free to go."

I am? You mean no one's gonna talk with me about what's going on? I'm just... free to go?

Seems so. So I left, almost in tears. Throughout all the "STAT" talk and URGENT shooing, I was fine. I drove alone to the hospital and like a good girl I sat still for all my tests, even without a lollipop. But when they just shood me away without talking to me at all, without telling me the results of the test, next steps, further concerns (or assurances), or ANYTHING, that's when I felt like crying!

That's when I felt really alone. That's when I was confused. And scared. And, come to think of it, angry.

I called the doctor's office, but they'd all left for the day. I called the next day, but the doctor's were available for emergencies only, and clearly this wasn't an emergency because I'd been sent home!

This afternoon (on the way to the pool to swim for 30 minutes!) I called again, amazed that they still hadn't responded to my request for communication and some kind of explanation about what was going on. I told the nurse my story, and I'm sure she could sense my frustration because she immediately said she'd talk to the doctor and call me right back -- which she did.

Turns out, I'm fine. Duh, I knew that! I can't blame them for jumping into high gear once I presented with disconcerting symptoms. But I wish there had been more communication. It seems that it's the patient who is often lost in the shuffle and who is often left in the dark about her own condition.

And that does piss me off!

So it turns out that the nurse suggested that I call the doctor back about "next steps" which, ya know, I really don't want to do! And I can't imagine I'm alone in wanting to drop the ball. I wonder how often that ball IS dropped at this stage, out of fear, apathy, frustration, whatever, and then something happens because the patient didn't follow through and address the problem.

I'll follow through on this because no one else seems to be able to and oh yeah -- because it IS my body and my life! I'm sure it's nothing that a little swimming won't cure...