I'm so tired of going to the doctor. I mean, I'm glad that there are doctors out there that can basically digitally peel you apart and see what is going on inside of you, and I'm glad that I have access to those doctors, but I feel like I've had more than my fair share of them this year.
I told you about my visit to the Doc-In-the-Box in January because I thought my heart was glitching, and about that visit leading me to the hours long stress test that I had to take to "ease my mind." Well, just the other day I had a regular visit with my GP. Just routine stuff, but I had to have blood work and a chest X-Ray beforehand as part of it. Two days before my appointment, the doctor's office told me they saw some shadowing on my X-Ray and that I needed to go and have a CT scan of my chest. This probably would have scared me if they'd told me they found a spot, or a lesion, or a ferret on it, but shadows can be caused by almost anything, including leaning too close to the machine-thing. So I go to have the CT scan, which was a lesson in patience, because you have to wait SO FREAKING LONG before you get to go back there. I was given an IV (which thankfully didn't squirt my blood across the room this time) and injected with what felt like hot coffee, but what was (I was assured) contrast dye. That part was really weird because they told me the dye would feel hot in my veins, and then make me feel like I'd just wet my pants. They were NOT lying about that. It also made my liver feel like I'd swallowed some lit birthday candles. Then I was passed in and out of a scanning doughnut, which spoke to me in a creepy robotic voice "Breathe In. Hold Your Breath. Exhale." I kid you not, it was like the weirdest Disney ride you could ever imagine.
So that was over, and I was fine with it. Certainly it would ease the doctor's mind about any lung shadows he may see. I'd had pneumonia after all, so I was sure that's all that it was. The same thing happened to Steve a year or two ago, and they'd had him convinced it was inoperable lung cancer, but thankfully it was just because he'd had scars from an earlier bout with pneumonia (which he'd never been treated for because he's stubborn and likes coughing a whole lot.) So, at my actual appointment I was told everything was fine. Blood work was fine and my CT scan just said I had a nodule (just like Steve) from my case of pneumonia. He even showed me the report that said it was a lung nodule with a very low chance of being anything scary. I'm paraphrasing, of course. All he said was that I have to lose weight, of course, but when do I not? The only other complaint I had was that my side had been hurting quite a lot. I thought it was my gallbladder, and so did my doctor. So the next monday he sent me to have an ultrasound on my abdomen. Fun stuff, that ultrasound. Imagine getting covered with jelly while someone rolls a Tonka truck all over your stomach. It was weird. Later that day (and way sooner than I'd imagined) they called me to tell me that my ultrasound was fine, although that doesn't explain the pain, but for all I know there really is a ferret in my spleen. She also told me that the doctor went back to look at my CT scan and wants me to see a pulmonary specialist after all. The same one as Steve went to, actually, and he says that doctor is a bit of a bastard, so that should be fun. Now I have to go see yet another doctor who will probably have me scanned or jellied or some crazy thing.
Somewhere in there I also had a dentist appointment where they told me I need to have my crown replaced in early May and I have yet another, unrelated to anything else thus far, doctor's appointment I have to go to in either May or June (depending on when there is an opening.)
Seriously, I'm very, very grateful that I have access to so many doctors and insurance to help pay for these visits, but this is an embarrassment of riches. Getting old sucks.