in october 2015, i dislocated my left kneecap for the first time in four years. ah, the four year stretch. it seems to be the longest time i can go without breaking myself/others/electronics.
my kneecaps have always been awful. my knees, hips, ankles, spine -- well, let's just say all my limbs have never been great. each time a kneecap dislocation happens, i'm in the most intense pain i've ever felt for what feels like an eternity (but is usually under a minute before it pops back into place) and then i can't walk for days. four years ago, i slipped in a puddle at work and my screams echoed through the entire kitchen for a week. i've dealt with this from about the age of 12. growing up in a small town where doctors never understood the phenomenon that is my body, i was consistently sent home and told to rest and ice. when i tell my specialists about this, they are dumbfounded.
so when it happened again in october after i had been in physiotherapy for 8 months and was feeling quite strong, my physiotherapist ordered an orthopedic surgeon referral. in december, i met the surgeon who briefly told me that i need to strengthen the muscles which surround the kneecap and keep it in place. surgery was not an option due to a high failure rate. a few days later, i began those strengthening exercises with my physiotherapist. a couple more days later and i manage to injure myself again, but have no idea what i did. all i remember feeling was a sharp pain in my right knee while walking on the treadmill at the gym and then i was unable to walk for the next week without copious amounts of pain in both my right knee and right hip. the kneecap did not dislocate. there was hardly even a sublaxation of the kneecap. something happened, and i was temporarily disabled.
after this had been happening for 3 weeks and i didn't feel like i was getting better, i checked myself into the hospital and got x-rays which returned normal and a referral to a sports medicine doctor. once i told my physiotherapist about what had happened, we began electroshock therapy and she told me to begin acupuncture. when i met with my naturopath, she provided some relief and told me to begin osteopathy. when i met my physician, she did some bloodwork to check that everything was normal and will conduct a "leg exam" upon next visit, whatever that means.
today, i met the sports medicine doctor and once again explained all of my troubles. similarly to each specialist, he rolled his eyes at the way i was never treated properly until recently. he prescribed anti-inflammatory pills to reduce tension in my muscles and kneecap braces for both of my knees. if in 6 weeks there is not much improvement, he will refer me back to another orthopedic surgeon for consultation. he believes that although the issue lies within the weak kneecap muscles and extremely tight outer muscle that runs down from the hip to knee, there could also be a ligament issue that has been overlooked.
yes, there are officially 7 specialists keeping me alive and helping me get better.
i miss the gym. i miss walking without pain. i miss walking everywhere. i miss friends. i miss doing things.
my only goal is to get better.
Showing posts with label doctor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label doctor. Show all posts
Feb 4, 2016
Mar 15, 2015
the waiting is the hardest part
too much of my life is spent waiting.
i'm constantly waiting for summer, for a better job, for more money, for the work day to be over, to see a doctor, for a train, to get home, for sleep, and the list continues.
typically, i wake up, get ready for work, and head out the door to wait for a train. i wait on the train to get to work. i wait for the elevator. i get into work and wait for my computer to boot up. i wait for that first question of the day. i wait to figure out what my plan of attack for the day will be. i wait around for my boss to be less busy to help me with my own questions. i wait for current projects to return back to me so i can finish them. i wait for lunch. i spend the next few hours in the same cycle while waiting to go home. i wait for a train to go home. i wait for dinner and i wait for bedtime.
by no means am i saying that i hate my job - in fact, it's quite the opposite. i do enjoy the work i'm given on a day to day basis. i enjoy the customer service aspect and i enjoy teaching coworkers or customers, as long as they don't put up a fight (especially when i know i'm right - perhaps i'm just not the best teacher, but yes, i'm working on it).
more than 80% of my day consists of waiting. and it gets worse when i have doctor appointments or are meeting up with friends. i've been watching a lot of aziz ansari's standup lately and he's got it completely down: people these days are assholes because nobody is ever on time. this adds to the waiting in my life. there are certain friends who i tell "be ready for 7" when i know the thing it is we're going to isn't until 8. and yes, i am guilty of being late on occasion as well. sometimes, it becomes inevitable with toronto's terrible transit system. sometimes leaving an hour early from my apartment doesn't get me to where i need to be on time. and that's not a good thing at all.
it's not that i don't do fun things but i can feel my passion for everything i once had slipping away. maybe it's just the long winter getting me down, but when i browse job listings to see what is currently available in my field (though i'm not necessarily looking for a change just yet - just looking around), i notice that the jobs that would've once excited me 2 years ago are not the same things that excite me now. perhaps it's due to me being in the workforce and getting a feel for office life. perhaps it's just that there are no daily reminders and constant learning keeping me strong and passionate about all my years of school. while i spend 8-9 hours of my day at work, the last thing i want to do when i get home is catch up on 8-9 hours of social media and sustainability news.maybe i'm just growing old. as of late, i feel incredibly blah. coping with a long winter, long days at work, battling seasonal allergies, and attempting to pretend i'm 20 again isn't cutting it.
part of me yearns to return to school but a larger part of me knows that it isn't a good idea. i know that if i do, once i'm finished, i'll return to that point of no relevant work experience and too much school. i loathe the day when i'm told i'm too overqualified for the position i'm applying. it's hard enough to hear that at my current job when something needs to be done and i show the initiative to do it. again, it isn't a bad thing, and i'm thankful that my current job recognizes my talents and is helping me develop my skills.
i don't believe there is a way to cut down the parts of my life i spend waiting. i've developed particular coping mechanisms with certain people in my life but that's only for my own sanity. i do the same with the handful of friends i have who, somehow, despite all odds, continue to mostly be on time. at least when summer arrives, it will feel like i'll have more time to do things with more sunshine.
the waiting will always be the hardest part.
i'm constantly waiting for summer, for a better job, for more money, for the work day to be over, to see a doctor, for a train, to get home, for sleep, and the list continues.
typically, i wake up, get ready for work, and head out the door to wait for a train. i wait on the train to get to work. i wait for the elevator. i get into work and wait for my computer to boot up. i wait for that first question of the day. i wait to figure out what my plan of attack for the day will be. i wait around for my boss to be less busy to help me with my own questions. i wait for current projects to return back to me so i can finish them. i wait for lunch. i spend the next few hours in the same cycle while waiting to go home. i wait for a train to go home. i wait for dinner and i wait for bedtime.
by no means am i saying that i hate my job - in fact, it's quite the opposite. i do enjoy the work i'm given on a day to day basis. i enjoy the customer service aspect and i enjoy teaching coworkers or customers, as long as they don't put up a fight (especially when i know i'm right - perhaps i'm just not the best teacher, but yes, i'm working on it).
more than 80% of my day consists of waiting. and it gets worse when i have doctor appointments or are meeting up with friends. i've been watching a lot of aziz ansari's standup lately and he's got it completely down: people these days are assholes because nobody is ever on time. this adds to the waiting in my life. there are certain friends who i tell "be ready for 7" when i know the thing it is we're going to isn't until 8. and yes, i am guilty of being late on occasion as well. sometimes, it becomes inevitable with toronto's terrible transit system. sometimes leaving an hour early from my apartment doesn't get me to where i need to be on time. and that's not a good thing at all.
it's not that i don't do fun things but i can feel my passion for everything i once had slipping away. maybe it's just the long winter getting me down, but when i browse job listings to see what is currently available in my field (though i'm not necessarily looking for a change just yet - just looking around), i notice that the jobs that would've once excited me 2 years ago are not the same things that excite me now. perhaps it's due to me being in the workforce and getting a feel for office life. perhaps it's just that there are no daily reminders and constant learning keeping me strong and passionate about all my years of school. while i spend 8-9 hours of my day at work, the last thing i want to do when i get home is catch up on 8-9 hours of social media and sustainability news.maybe i'm just growing old. as of late, i feel incredibly blah. coping with a long winter, long days at work, battling seasonal allergies, and attempting to pretend i'm 20 again isn't cutting it.
part of me yearns to return to school but a larger part of me knows that it isn't a good idea. i know that if i do, once i'm finished, i'll return to that point of no relevant work experience and too much school. i loathe the day when i'm told i'm too overqualified for the position i'm applying. it's hard enough to hear that at my current job when something needs to be done and i show the initiative to do it. again, it isn't a bad thing, and i'm thankful that my current job recognizes my talents and is helping me develop my skills.
i don't believe there is a way to cut down the parts of my life i spend waiting. i've developed particular coping mechanisms with certain people in my life but that's only for my own sanity. i do the same with the handful of friends i have who, somehow, despite all odds, continue to mostly be on time. at least when summer arrives, it will feel like i'll have more time to do things with more sunshine.
the waiting will always be the hardest part.
Nov 5, 2014
the year everything ended in november
you might recall about a year ago, i was in a really bad place. i wrote countless blog posts about how everything in my life, including, well, me living a life, turned to absolute shit very quickly.
it was a combination of falling ill for 6+ months and losing my job where i wasn't sure things could get any worse. but let this be a lesson to everyone: the minute you think nothing is going to get worse from where you are, you're wrong. so very wrong. when you're ill for 6+ months, you pick up other sicknesses on the way and lose any and all hope you ever had that you were going to get better at some point. you lose track of who you are, physically and mentally. i got lucky that the severity of my symptoms were limited and that it was diagnosed and treated correctly the first time without my body rejecting the antibiotics. i got lucky that i had a strong family and friends base to keep me going. but it became arduous to keep on explaining to anyone who asked what was wrong with me. i wanted to believe it was something more than what the doctors kept telling me. how did everyone else get over this easily? why was it only me that had these issues? why was i the only one who needed to be hospitalized several times with no end in sight?
"why me?" was a phrase i uttered too many times during the course of treatment. nurses and doctors continued to greet me with looks of disappointment.
"i thought i told you the last time you were here that i didn't want to see you again" i wish i had an answer. "
you might just have to be on antibiotic treatment for the rest of your life" were words that chill me to the bone to this day.
and maybe it was the stress of my job. or maybe it was that dude i was with awhile back i knew nothing about. maybe it's diet. maybe it's environmental factors. whatever it was, i wouldn't wish what i went through on anyone. i'd be a very happy girl if i never had to set foot in a doctor's office or hospital again.
a year ago, the life i had was taken from me abruptly and i was now bound to a life of "sorry, i can't hang out, i'm in the hospital". i'll always remember november 2013 of the worst month of my life up until that point.
but by january 2014, things began to change yet again. symptoms persisted and i knew i had to be strong. i was hired on at a job which i love, despite me not being able to make rent. i pressed on to events i wanted to go to and simpsons trivia nights that let us win first place a number of times. in july, i met a great dude who wasn't from the internet. yes, a real dude. and he's showing me what a real relationship is supposed to be like. it's amazing and only continues to get better as time goes on.
so, maybe things have to reach an all time low at some point before things ever start to get better. just try not to be deceived when what you think is the bottom ends up to be actually be further than you thought.
it was a combination of falling ill for 6+ months and losing my job where i wasn't sure things could get any worse. but let this be a lesson to everyone: the minute you think nothing is going to get worse from where you are, you're wrong. so very wrong. when you're ill for 6+ months, you pick up other sicknesses on the way and lose any and all hope you ever had that you were going to get better at some point. you lose track of who you are, physically and mentally. i got lucky that the severity of my symptoms were limited and that it was diagnosed and treated correctly the first time without my body rejecting the antibiotics. i got lucky that i had a strong family and friends base to keep me going. but it became arduous to keep on explaining to anyone who asked what was wrong with me. i wanted to believe it was something more than what the doctors kept telling me. how did everyone else get over this easily? why was it only me that had these issues? why was i the only one who needed to be hospitalized several times with no end in sight?
"why me?" was a phrase i uttered too many times during the course of treatment. nurses and doctors continued to greet me with looks of disappointment.
"i thought i told you the last time you were here that i didn't want to see you again" i wish i had an answer. "
you might just have to be on antibiotic treatment for the rest of your life" were words that chill me to the bone to this day.
and maybe it was the stress of my job. or maybe it was that dude i was with awhile back i knew nothing about. maybe it's diet. maybe it's environmental factors. whatever it was, i wouldn't wish what i went through on anyone. i'd be a very happy girl if i never had to set foot in a doctor's office or hospital again.
a year ago, the life i had was taken from me abruptly and i was now bound to a life of "sorry, i can't hang out, i'm in the hospital". i'll always remember november 2013 of the worst month of my life up until that point.
but by january 2014, things began to change yet again. symptoms persisted and i knew i had to be strong. i was hired on at a job which i love, despite me not being able to make rent. i pressed on to events i wanted to go to and simpsons trivia nights that let us win first place a number of times. in july, i met a great dude who wasn't from the internet. yes, a real dude. and he's showing me what a real relationship is supposed to be like. it's amazing and only continues to get better as time goes on.
so, maybe things have to reach an all time low at some point before things ever start to get better. just try not to be deceived when what you think is the bottom ends up to be actually be further than you thought.
Dec 14, 2013
a hospital visit i won't soon forget
i was supposed to have that cystoscopy on thursday. i was terrified.
i remained cautiously optimistic in the fact that i was told they would give me a sedative or anaesthetic to help me relax. i was told it would be no more invasive than a pap smear. and well, that's fine, but i've never had one of those either. needless to say, i was pretty damn nervous to have my who-ha exposed and on display for the first time.
then, they told me i wasn't able to have a sedative or anaesthetic. they told me they don't do that. uhh, wait a minute. the secretary who booked my appointment said i could have drugs if i wanted them. and now you're telling me i can't? okay. well. uhm. let's give it a shot then. the nurse told me i wouldn't be able to feel much and it would be "just a pinch" - i'm a little relieved until she starts prepping me.
HELLO LADY?! THAT IS NOT A PINCH. THAT FEELS LIKE YOU'RE RIPPING APART MY FUCKING VAGINA DEAR GOD STOP. i was crying and yelling and screaming. and all they had done was put some freezing gel on me.
yeah, so, that didn't go well. they didn't even try to go through with the procedure. and that's for the best. after i had regained my composure a bit, i talked to the urologist who ordered me some anaesthetic for next time and set up another appointment for next wednesday.
to get this anaesthetic, i had to go see a doctor at the walk-in clinic and get him to examine me, make sure i'm healthy, and sign off on the form to knock me out. guess who the doctor is? the one i fucking can't stand. the one who put me on the antibiotic that gave me c diff. the one that belittles me every chance he gets.
i calmly and politely discussed with him why i'm getting the cystoscopy and the instructions i was given to tell the doctor to ensure all the paperwork goes through. he then passively-aggressively mentions that i need to stop telling him how to do his job. WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?! this is MY body. this is what the UROLOGIST PERFORMING THE PROCEDURE WANTS AND IT'S DIFFERENT THAN THE NORMAL FORMS YOU HAVE TO FILL OUT, ASSHOLE.
he quickly runs through my physical, asking me when was the last time i had a physical done. i don't remember. he laughs. he then asks if my weight and height on the form are accurate, even though i had just estimated. again, he laughs inappropriately and i ask if i could weigh myself. without mentioning that he's finished examining me, he goes to leave the room. i ask if i'm supposed to bring all of my stuff and if we're done. he says "yes, we're done here" - DUDE. TELL ME THAT THEN. DON'T WANDER OFF IN A HUFF. YOU'RE A FUCKING DOCTOR. COMMUNICATE WITH ME.
i want to mention that when i saw this doctor days before i was hospitalized the second time and when he had prescribed me the second antibiotic, he asked me if i had sex in the last few months. i told him no, because i haven't. and that's the story i've been telling every doctor i had met over the past couple months. why would i lie? well, for some reason, this doctor seemed convinced i was lying to him and again, laughed at me, almost implying that i was a whore.
a nurse weighs me and i weigh in at 118 pounds. the doctor then tells me that i was "close" as i had written down 120 on the form. he either thought i was fatter than 120 or skinnier than 120... and it's probably the fatter one, knowing this guy. even the secretary at the urologist's office looked at me, as i was completely bundled up for the cold weather and said, "you look like you're about 110 and much taller than 5'6"
i just want to get this test over with finally so they can tell me why i keep getting these recurring infections for no reason. wednesday needs to get here faster.
i remained cautiously optimistic in the fact that i was told they would give me a sedative or anaesthetic to help me relax. i was told it would be no more invasive than a pap smear. and well, that's fine, but i've never had one of those either. needless to say, i was pretty damn nervous to have my who-ha exposed and on display for the first time.
then, they told me i wasn't able to have a sedative or anaesthetic. they told me they don't do that. uhh, wait a minute. the secretary who booked my appointment said i could have drugs if i wanted them. and now you're telling me i can't? okay. well. uhm. let's give it a shot then. the nurse told me i wouldn't be able to feel much and it would be "just a pinch" - i'm a little relieved until she starts prepping me.
HELLO LADY?! THAT IS NOT A PINCH. THAT FEELS LIKE YOU'RE RIPPING APART MY FUCKING VAGINA DEAR GOD STOP. i was crying and yelling and screaming. and all they had done was put some freezing gel on me.
yeah, so, that didn't go well. they didn't even try to go through with the procedure. and that's for the best. after i had regained my composure a bit, i talked to the urologist who ordered me some anaesthetic for next time and set up another appointment for next wednesday.
to get this anaesthetic, i had to go see a doctor at the walk-in clinic and get him to examine me, make sure i'm healthy, and sign off on the form to knock me out. guess who the doctor is? the one i fucking can't stand. the one who put me on the antibiotic that gave me c diff. the one that belittles me every chance he gets.
i calmly and politely discussed with him why i'm getting the cystoscopy and the instructions i was given to tell the doctor to ensure all the paperwork goes through. he then passively-aggressively mentions that i need to stop telling him how to do his job. WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?! this is MY body. this is what the UROLOGIST PERFORMING THE PROCEDURE WANTS AND IT'S DIFFERENT THAN THE NORMAL FORMS YOU HAVE TO FILL OUT, ASSHOLE.
he quickly runs through my physical, asking me when was the last time i had a physical done. i don't remember. he laughs. he then asks if my weight and height on the form are accurate, even though i had just estimated. again, he laughs inappropriately and i ask if i could weigh myself. without mentioning that he's finished examining me, he goes to leave the room. i ask if i'm supposed to bring all of my stuff and if we're done. he says "yes, we're done here" - DUDE. TELL ME THAT THEN. DON'T WANDER OFF IN A HUFF. YOU'RE A FUCKING DOCTOR. COMMUNICATE WITH ME.
i want to mention that when i saw this doctor days before i was hospitalized the second time and when he had prescribed me the second antibiotic, he asked me if i had sex in the last few months. i told him no, because i haven't. and that's the story i've been telling every doctor i had met over the past couple months. why would i lie? well, for some reason, this doctor seemed convinced i was lying to him and again, laughed at me, almost implying that i was a whore.
a nurse weighs me and i weigh in at 118 pounds. the doctor then tells me that i was "close" as i had written down 120 on the form. he either thought i was fatter than 120 or skinnier than 120... and it's probably the fatter one, knowing this guy. even the secretary at the urologist's office looked at me, as i was completely bundled up for the cold weather and said, "you look like you're about 110 and much taller than 5'6"
i just want to get this test over with finally so they can tell me why i keep getting these recurring infections for no reason. wednesday needs to get here faster.
Oct 31, 2013
repeat offender (my second toronto hospital visit)
remember that kidney infection from last month?
yep, so do i.
after i finished those antibiotics, i probably felt okay for about a week. and then i started noticing that i'd get sharp pains or cramps for like, a second, and then they'd go away. a few more weeks later, i was noticing that i was peeing more frequently, too. and it seemed as though i was falling into the symptoms i had last time.
this past saturday, i noticed that i was peeing an insane amount for only having a tea and a glass of juice in the morning. i decided that if it happened again on sunday, i'd go to the doctor. it didn't. what did happen on sunday was more sharp pains - consistent throughout the day and evening - that last for a second and go away. well, that's not normal.
so, monday morning, i went to the doctor and did a urine sample, which came back positive for something and i had an abnormal white cell count. i was definitely fighting something. he gave me a prescription for an antibiotic and told me to wait until the results, unless the symptoms got worse. monday evening, i went pee and my entire body decided to hurt pretty bad and continue to hurt all throughout the night. barely sleeping, i woke up the next morning and had a sick day. i got the prescription filled and started to feel a bit better after taking them.
wednesday morning, i took a pill and the pain and discomfort did not go away. i went into work, despite feeling ill. i called the clinic and asked if my results were back and they told me to come in again. i went to the doctor after work, but the culture sample the doctor wanted to see wasn't back yet. but, he said i had a high fever and when he touched my tummy, everything seemed very sore. so, he wrote me a note to be admitted to the emergency room at the hospital.. again.
wonderful! wednesday evening, around 7:30pm, i checked myself in. by 10:30pm, two doctors examined me and tried to figure out my problem. at about midnight, they came back and told me that they're going to order an ultrasound, do bloodwork, and put me on IV antibiotics. but that i'd get home.. "eventually". with this referral from the clinic, i had my own room and it was kind of quiet. i was in and out of sleep for most of the time. the IV antibiotics made me feel less pain and discomfort. at 3am, i saw another doctor who told me to keep taking the antibiotics i got from the clinic and to go home to rest. they scheduled me for an ultrasound again, this time at 2pm.
i got home around 4am and went to sleep. i awoke and felt better with only minimal pain. i went back for the ultrasound at 2pm, waited for results, only to find the exact same thing as the last ultrasound: nothing. zilch. everything's healthy and functional.
so, it's either another UTI/kidney infection and i have seriously bad luck (it's unusual since i haven't been with anyone in months & never had a UTI before this) or that the one from september just didn't go away completely.
uh. here's hoping the second round of antibiotics kicks it in the butt!
yep, so do i.
after i finished those antibiotics, i probably felt okay for about a week. and then i started noticing that i'd get sharp pains or cramps for like, a second, and then they'd go away. a few more weeks later, i was noticing that i was peeing more frequently, too. and it seemed as though i was falling into the symptoms i had last time.
this past saturday, i noticed that i was peeing an insane amount for only having a tea and a glass of juice in the morning. i decided that if it happened again on sunday, i'd go to the doctor. it didn't. what did happen on sunday was more sharp pains - consistent throughout the day and evening - that last for a second and go away. well, that's not normal.
 |
| my own room! fancy! |
wednesday morning, i took a pill and the pain and discomfort did not go away. i went into work, despite feeling ill. i called the clinic and asked if my results were back and they told me to come in again. i went to the doctor after work, but the culture sample the doctor wanted to see wasn't back yet. but, he said i had a high fever and when he touched my tummy, everything seemed very sore. so, he wrote me a note to be admitted to the emergency room at the hospital.. again.
 |
| big guns: IV antibiotics |
i got home around 4am and went to sleep. i awoke and felt better with only minimal pain. i went back for the ultrasound at 2pm, waited for results, only to find the exact same thing as the last ultrasound: nothing. zilch. everything's healthy and functional.
so, it's either another UTI/kidney infection and i have seriously bad luck (it's unusual since i haven't been with anyone in months & never had a UTI before this) or that the one from september just didn't go away completely.
uh. here's hoping the second round of antibiotics kicks it in the butt!
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