"Give the Good News by Way of Fists"

I've been putting off posting again because what I'm about to say is very disappointing.

After waiting the standard week, dealing with the back and forth with my doctor's office (that required yours truly writing an eloquent "call me back or fuck off" message) for someone to give me the time of day, the following is all I have to report:

My vitamin D is low. Mmmmkay.

Oh, and, my blood shows signs of inflammation similar to that of, and probably is, arthritis.

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.....are you fucking kidding?

"So, did you also find out that I have a belly button that is an "inny" and birthmark that looks like a third nipple?"

(Don't get distracted. That last statement is for another post at another time.)

This is a perfect depiction of why I was hesitant to get into this rheumatologist mess. I think nothing new will be learned. More drugs shoved in my face. Have a nice day.

Don't get me wrong. I tried to be optimistic, but I wasn't expecting a miracle worker. It is just pointing out a problem:

Doctors feel that their patients aren't satisfied unless they leave the office with a new prescription or referral to someone bigger/badder/more expensive-er. The blood tests ran by this "specialist" could have been run, and possibly had been already ran, by my regular doctor. Why the fuck was I sent to a specialist to tell me something I already knew?

No peace of mind was gained.

More distrust with western medicine was incurred.

The best part?

I just received my explanation of benefits from my insurance. Because I'm blessed with a job in a company with rather amazing benefits, my out-of-pocket expenses were minimal. However, if you added up all the "costs" before my negotiated "savings" this lovely little bullshit visit supposedly cha-chinged to a sum near $2,000.

Yes. Three zeros after that 2. Don't get me wrong, doctor with a shoddy medical staff that never calls anyone back, I'm sure you are very intelligent and highly trained in your field, but, seriously? That's how much it costs to tell me nothing? And, we wonder why people get significantly sick once and end up bankrupt in this country...

In other news, I've diagnosed myself. No, not in the hypochondriac, I'm-sick-with-everything way. I just have common sense and access to Google to go along with knowledge about my family history. I'm pretty sure all signs point to psoriatic arthritis showing it's ugly, painfully-inflamed presence because of the parvo. (Remember my post of why no one knows of the shitty that is human parvovirus? Because after six months, it leaves the "Oh, that's just a virus that will go away" phase and enters the "You now have a chronic condition (spawned by that measly little virus)known as XYZPainfulJointsHateYou condition.")

Good news: I've been pretty in love with my life despite all this mess these days. I'm hoping it's not all this prednisone I've been feeding myself. Ask me again this time next week when I take my last dose ;)

Until next time, loves....

The Streets - "Going Through Hell"