So, now I'm seeing nine doctors.
One endocrinologist, one primary care, one pulmonologist (or somebody in his office), two cardiologists, two rheumatologists, one retina-specialist opthalmologist, and now, one gastrointerologist.
I went to see the GI guy because one of the symptoms of the alleged connective tissue disorder that I may or may not have is "esophogeal dysmotility." Like indigestion.
I've been conquering it fairly well with OTC stuff, until recently. But I was thinking I needed his help recently, so I made an appointment.
I walked into his office, and he was friendly and what-can-I-do-fer-ya and I said "I'm going to give you the five minute version of the last three years," and proceded to do so. At the end of five minutes, he cocked his head and said "You've done this routine before, haven't you?" He then started pulling out samples and writing prescriptions for me to try short-term, to get an idea of what might work well for me by the trial-and-error method.
For, as he said, "Normally, I'd suggest we do an endoscopy and see what's going on in your esophagus, but if I walk up to an anesthesiologist and tell him, 'Oh, I have a patient I need your help with who has Pulmonary Hypertension and a Pericardial Effusion,' he'd just gimme one of these," holding up his crossed index fingers vampire-repelling-style.
Evidently, you see, all the stuff I'm taking daily is what the anesthesiologists give to people going the wrong way during surgery. Anesthesia is hard on the arteries, and when pressures start getting high, they administer nitric oxide (which is an outcome of every drug I'm taking for PH) by a number of routes, including a touch of Viagra. So if things started going badly for me, they'd have nothing left to try.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
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