Wanna Know Why Military Doctors Have a Bad Name?

I have had a love hate relationship with my many doctors over the years. I think it would help if I could have the same doctor, but since I am a lifelong military dependent, that is not likely to happen anytime soon. In fact, here you don’t even have the choice to get a doctor downtown. I would like to know why in its infinite wisdom did Tricare assign me a new PCM out of the blue, but left my son with his old doctor? The doctor he has a serious personality conflict with, but I get along with just fine. It’s like they said, “Hmmmm. She has all kinds of things wrong with her. She has her own pharmacy in her house. Let’s use her as a test case for all new doctors/PA’s and move her all over the place. She couldn’t possible benefit from continuity of care.” And then…” Hmmm. 18 year old boy whose biggest problem are his injuries. Boring. We will just leave him where he is.”

Case in point: I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago for my tarsal tunnel. Tarsal tunnel is like carpal tunnel, except it is in your foot and ankle area, and it hurts, a lot. Since I have fibromyalgia, if I say I hurt…I hurt! Since I was there I decided to combine appointments, and get my refills for my medications renewed at the same time. This just might have been a mistake!

I went to the doctor hoping to get some relief for my poor, poor foot that I am seriously considering murdering. I think if I cut it off it would hurt less. Since I have been doing super good at going to the gym, my foot is rebelling. Rebelling. Good word. Maybe I don’t need to murder it. Maybe I can just ground it. Anyway, I was hoping, hoping, hoping to get some advice about my foot because if you look up tarsal tunnel on the internet there is not a lot there. There is a ton about plantar fasciitis, but since they are 2 different things I wanted to make sure I would not further aggravate my foot by using the wrong technique.

This appointment was with a new P.A. I don’t know why they gave me a new PCM since I was specifically put with someone that was supposed to be a good internist because of my Fibromyalgia and PCOS, etc., but they did. This new P.A. has a one track mind. She was friendly enough, but all she cared about was renewing my meds and running blood work to make sure my meds weren’t harming me. This is great. I want her to care about that, but considering I can’t hardly walk without shooting, sharp pains, I would also like her to care about that, too.

I had to pull every bit of information about my foot out of her like detective in an interrogation room. She didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know, but one good thing that she might have told me was mentioned in the paper on (believe it or not) plantar fasciitis. The paper said to stop doing whatever it is that is aggravating the foot. Since I did tell the P.A. that I had been (am) going to the gym for an hour and a half to two hours a day five days a week, that might have been a really good thing for her to mention.

But! That was not the main concern I had about this visit. The main concern? I went in for my foot, and she never even looked at my foot. Not once. This does not make me feel very confident in the level of care I receive!!

Fibro Friday Revisited

Ok, so I have totally, totally failed at Fibro Friday. Unless Fridays only come like twice a year in which case I have totally ROCKED Fibro Friday, and you’re welcome! Just in case Fridays come more often, though, I am here to say I am going to give it another shot.

I am going to change up my original plan, though, and call it Fibro and Fitness Friday. Since the beginning of the year I have been doing really well with going to the gym and watching what I eat with the exception of 3 days this week where I let illness, school stress and the stress of my husband getting a lung biopsy get the better of me. I believe if it had been one or the other or even if illness was removed from the equation I would have done better. So, anyway, since I have been doing well on the fitness area, I am going to add it in as added incentive to get my rear in gear.

Some things I have learned about my fibro since I last wrote:
1. PMS week is an especially vulnerable time. I often have flares this week.
2. The flare related back pain I get has been greatly reduced since taking on a regular workout schedule.
3. Sometimes my flares take on flu like symptoms right down to a sore throat, coughing and sneezing. (This is not the case with this cold, though, since EVERYONE in my house has it.)
4. If I start out slowly, I can work up to quite the workout—right now I am at 25-35 minutes on the elliptical and 60-85 minutes on the treadmill every day.
5. I really, really need to listen to my body. This I am not so good at. (I know you are shocked!)

So, here goes! I am going to give this another shot (not with a needle, I hate those).
Oh, and yes, I know it is Saturday and not Friday, but, you know, Fibro and Fitness Saturday just doesn’t have the cool alliteration that Fibro and Fitness Friday does. Besides, I wouldn’t want to accidently get all perfect with this at once, now would I?

I'm so, so sorry

A few months ago, September 1st to be exact, we closed on schedule for the house I was so panicky about. The last few months have been spent moving in and painting and planning and painting and yard work and painting. And did I mention painting? We have painted almost every room in the house, and we love it!

Part of the fun has been planning all the things we want to do to make the house ours. This is something we have never been able to do since we have always lived either in base housing or rentals near the base where we lived. Now that we have our own home we have had a blast doing whatever we want to our home.

There are many things we would like to do, and nothing we have to do because the man who built this house did a great job. We want to do things like finish the basement, put up and backsplash and turn the second kitchen into a den/study. Yes, you read that right. We have 2 kitchens. Right next to each other. The other weird thing is that off of that second kitchen there is a bathroom/laundry room that has two doors… one into the kitchen, and one—Into the master bathroom. So, side by side are 2 kitchens and 2 bathrooms.

Today, while contemplating my lack of a broom closet it occurred to me that the space behind the door connecting the 2 bathrooms in the master bathroom would make a great broom closet. Right off of the laundry. We would need to turn the regular door into a pocket door, and half a wall built, but I think it would be perfect. My son, however, not so much. Guess why. No really. Guess why my 18 year old son does not think I should have a broom closet built…Money. He thinks it would be a waste of money. This is my son who all through high school when talking about what kind of car he wants did not talk about some fast sports car or a powerful, cool truck. All he cared about was that the car had good gas mileage. Really. I think my son has been possessed by a 45 year old CPA.

I write all of this to apologize. I sincerely apologize to the future Mrs. Brendan. If you want to do something that is beyond what is actually needed, really needed, not just a convenience or nice looking, you are going to have your work cut out for you. On the bright side, he will probably be a millionaire.

Excuse Me...I'm Sick, Not You!

Warning: This post is a big whinefest. I blame lack of oxygen due to not being able to breathe.

Why is it that whenever I get sick everyone in my house also claims to be sick? I think they are jealous. I don't know why they are jealous, but they are jealous.

I started feeling bad about 3 nights ago with a head cold. Well I thought it was a head cold until I went to the gym yesterday morning and then tried to cough up a lung when I got home. That is when my son told me, "I think you should have stayed home." Yes, son, good thing you are here because I never would have figured that one out. Of course, he had to say this every time I started in on a coughing fit. Stop rubbing it in already! I know. I am a stubborn, stubborn woman.

I have my reasons for going, though. I am finally into a good routine, and if I break it I am afraid I will not get started again. Don't worry, I was very careful to clean every surface with antibacterial wipes before I left, and, really, I really did think it was just a head cold or maybe even allergies at the time.

Anyway, back to everyone else suddenly deciding they are sick. Last night Michael comes home from work, and tells me I made him sick. His eyes had been running all day. Um...NO! I did not make you sick it hasn't been enough time for me to have made you sick. Besides, haven't you learned the rule about only one person being allowed to be sick at a time? It's my turn. You have to feel sorry for me! It is critical to my recovery! Seriously, pity, it ranks right up there with chicken soup. (Harrumph!)

Then today I suggest Michael and Brendan go out for Chinese food, and I will eat the aforementioned chicken soup. Michael is all over that one, except now Brendan says he doesn't feel well either. Why can those two NOT follow the rules?! I said I am the only one allowed to be sick. You have to pick a different time. Do I need to start a calendar? Everyone can just mark their "to be sick" days on the calendar just like vacation time at work. It would be much more convenient for me. I, myself, will choose Oct 32nd in the year 2382. I think that will give me sufficient time to die first.

Then again, maybe I will still be sick in 2382. After all, I am not getting my prescribed pity here. I may have to hold a class for them. "How to Properly Feel Sorry for Your Wife and Mother When She is Sick". ;P

Still Leaning! I Hope I Don't Fall Over!!

Once again, it has been a while since I have updated. To say life is a bit crazy right now would be an understatement…Well, not life, per say, but my mind’s handling of life. In the last four months Michael has retired from active duty service, Brendan has graduated high school, I went to visit family, Michael was hired in his “new” civilian career, Brendan chose to move with us (YAY!), we moved from a southernmost state to a northern state, AND we unexpectedly started house hunting an entire year earlier than we had planned. It is the house hunting that is going to be the death of me. Really. I should have a defibrillator on hand. I already have certified user on hand-just need the machine.

We thought when we started all of this that being preapproved meant things would go quickly. It may be going quickly, but if this is quickly I sure would hate to see what happens if you start all of this without pre-approval.

After about 4 weeks of open houses mostly in the rain, we found our house. Only I am a big chicken, so after 2 more weeks and many more houses…also mostly in the rain, we put in an offer on the house. Seller countered, we countered, seller agrees! Yay! We are done, we own a house. Yeah, not so much. You know how on HGTV, when the universe aligns, the angels sing, and the buyers and sellers agree to terms the always say (I’m talking to you Sandra!) “Congratulations, you bought a house!”? Well, they lied. That is really only the beginning…or the end of the prologue –you decide. Because now enters the antagonist of our story…the mortgage broker.

The mortgage broker gets your hopes up, tells you things will be done within 2 weeks, and then surreptitiously sends you a 42 page document in your email for you to review, fill out, sign, scan and return…right away. Right away, so you can wait. And wait, and wait. Your 2 week time frame comes and goes and then said mortgage broker goes on vacation. VACATION. Can we sue for Prozac?

Then, like a ton of bricks, you learn the mortgage broker is not the true antagonist, he is merely a red herring. Enter: The Underwriter (insert evil laugh here). The underwriters must have done really, really well in their Critical Thinking class because their entire purpose in life is to take every branch in a person’s financial life, and see how many kinds of documentation proving the EXACT SAME THING they can come up with to request. Do they ask for all of this at one time? No, that would be too easy. Perhaps they think we won’t notice how redundant their requests are if they space them out. But guess what? I did really well in my Critical Thinking course as well, and I am on to them. Yep, I am positive they work for the government, or Satan.

So here we sit, VA appraisal is in (Another government scam, by the way. Why am I paying what will be at least $625 for an appraisal that protects the government and not me?!), All of our paperwork is in, and all we can do is wait…again, and closing is in just 3 weeks. Before waiting a month for the underwriters and appraiser to turn in their paperwork that was supposed to take 2 weeks, I would have thought, “Wow! 3 weeks we have time to spare!” Not so much now. Now it is more like, “Three weeks! I hope we close on time!” On time being before I need to use that defibrillator!
Oh, and remember the part about it raining almost every time we went house hunting? Well, if you have a drought in your area for a nominal fee and travel expenses we will go to open houses in your area. Be sure to book soon. Slots are limited.

Still Pathetic, Different Reason...Kind Of

A whole 2 days earlier than I could get in to an insurance covered eye doctor I was able to get an appointment at Wal Mart, and because I am incredibly patient I took the Wal Mart appointment. While waiting for my appointment I decided it would be an excellent idea to get contacts. Now mind you, I can't even watch someone touch an eye on television, so why I thought I could not only touch my eye, but purposely put something in it, I have no idea--none whatsoever.

It started out pretty well. The technician was very patient with me while I repeatedly closed my eyes *just* before getting the contact in my eye. After about 15 minutes, I managed to get one in. Then, I had to do it again. The second one didn't take so long, but I still had several missteps. I was thrilled! I managed to actually get the contacts in my eyes...both of them, even!! Then she gave me the horrible, terrible news. I had to learn to take them out. Take them out?! I just managed to get them in! But I did it. I took them out. Well, I took one out anyway. And, I managed to get it back in.

I left, went to the glasses area, and ordered a pair. You know, just in case, my eye gets irritated or something, but that wasn't going to happen, but I knew I should have a pair for "an emergency". After ordering my glasses, I went to the jewelry department because now I can have more than one pair of sunglasses, and I needed them to drive home. Cool.

I went home, and spent the day randomly trying go adjust my glasses that were not there. I was reveling in my new found freedom from the lens. No more smudges. No more fogged up lenses. No more rain on the glass. Until, I started to get tired. Then I rubbed my eyes. Not good. Apparently, if you rub your eyes with contacts the contact pops right out. Hmmmm. Didn't think of that. Ok, it's alright. I can learn to not rub my eyes. Really, I can. Then, I did it again. I decided to leave them out for the night, and start again in the morning.

Thaaat went well...NOT! It took me for.ev.er to get the contacts back in my eyes. Not only that, but, as hinted at by the name of my blog, I can be a bit obsessive. My new obsessive thought? I was going to miss something while washing my hands, and I was going to transfer a virus to my eyes, and then I was going to have to have people put things in my eyes. In them! I had to puuush that thought back. Way back.

Later that day, we went shopping. My eyes hurt. I felt like I had an eyelash in them, and I was getting sick to my stomach. I could not wait to get them out. Except I would have to wait. Because I could NOT get them out. I tried. I panicked. I gave up. I tried, again. Repeat and repeat again. I finally get them out, and I put them away for the day. Determined to try again later.

Then that obsessive thing comes in to play again. See, between every try I was washing my hands. Which would be great if it weren't for the fact that I am allergic (sensitive?) to anti-bacterial soap. I woke up in the middle of the night with my fingers so red and swollen that I could barely get my wedding rings off, and so itchy that I had to slather them with hydrocortizone cream. Not fun.

The good new is that when my new glasses came in about 2 weeks later, the skin was almost completely healed on my fingers. Oh, that, and I chose glasses that I really, really like, and not just some "they are ok, but they are not really going to be used so get the cheapest ones" glasses. Sometimes, *I* don't even know how well I know myself.

I am Officially Pathetic!

In the last week I have managed to break both my glasses and my backup glasses, so now I am sitting in my living room watching television and playing on the web in my sunglasses.

WHYYYYYY did I not make an eye appointment when I broke the first pair?! Today I called the 3 (really, Tricare? 3??) eye doctors in my area that take my insurance, and the first appointment isn't for more than 2 weeks. Add to that the fact that I wear frameless glasses, so they have to be sent out adding another 2-3 weeks before I get glasses, and I am going to be looking all cool (or like I am trying to hide a black eye) for quite a while.

Hopefully, I will be able to get in to WalMart or Lenscrafters or the like to at least get the eye exam sooner. I will have to pay out of pocket, but really, how long can I live in sunglasses? After all, I do have a teenage boy, and I won't be able to hear anything over his laughter if I sit around like this all day.

The bright side is, I do have the Rx sunglasses (well darkened bright side, anyway) because without them I wouldn't even be able to drive, and THAT would be fun...NOT!