I’m coming back. I promise. I miss blogging, and Jenn.nu is in desperate need of a revamp. Hopefully I’ll be able to do both this week!
- I’m tired
- I’m anxious
- I’m depressed, but mostly I’m anxious
- I have trouble sleeping because of all of the above
- I’m scatterbrained
- I miss blogging
I’m trying to make a comeback.
(that’s Gizmo, Freyja’s brother, in the background)
Thanks, Kizzy! I’m still quite excited to try out so many great products. ♥
Recently Dan asked me why I have so much anger and contempt for my former PCP, but not my bariatric surgeon. After all, I ended up being physically harmed by both of them. His exact question was, “Why are you so angry at Dr. PCP, but not Dr. Bariatric Surgeon? Why does Dr. Bariatric surgeon get a pass, yet Dr. PCP does not?”
At the time it was about four in the morning, I was coming off of 12+ hours of suffering from a wicked migraine, and, still yet unbeknownst to both of us, I was hours away from an ovarian torsion that would send me to the ER in an ambulance and then to another hospital for emergency surgery to remove my left ovary and left fallopian tube. So my answer wasn’t very succinct, and his posed question led to several minutes of discussion.
But now that I’ve thought about it, I have a succinct, neatly-wrapped up answer: it’s about intent. Let me explain:
Dr. PCP’s intent was to treat my pain with a medication that has killed and harmed so many people with spontaneous ulcer perforations and even spontaneous stomach and intestinal perforations in non-ulcer-prone individuals that the FDA slapped a black-box warning on it, despite him knowing my history with ulcers and ulcer perforations. He was so intent on not having to prescribe OMG! narcotics! that he risked my life – literally.
Dr. Bariatric Surgeon’s intent was to manage my pre-op, during-op, and post-op care in a very safe, well-managed, closely-observed setting. It was in spite of her care and attention to such a system that everything went wrong. This setting was disrupted not by her, but by residents who took it upon themselves to classify my increased, worsening post-op pain and fever as ‘Dems Da Breaks When You’re A Chronic Pain Patient Who Takes Oxycodone On The Daily. They truly thought I was simply drug-seeking, and so they were a literal wall between Dr. Bariatric Surgeon and myself. It wasn’t until I was literally dying that the residents realized and said to one another, “oh shit – we fucked up!” and finally clued Dr. Bariatric Surgeon into what was going on. Her fault/responsibility in the matter was not checking on me personally, and taking her residents’ word that I was doing well. But in the past her residents never failed either of us, so why would things suddenly be different now?
So there you have it. And, yes, I have confronted/explained this to both doctors. The former tried to skirt around or at least shake some of the responsibility (dude, it’s all on you – that’s why you have a medical degree and I address you as “Doctor”), and the latter completely owned her responsibility in the matter and nearly fell over her tongue trying to apologize to me.
Who would have thought I would turn into a dress-loving girl? I found this totes! adorbs! dress at Gabe’s last week for just $10.99. What do you think? At first I thought it was a summer-only number, but paired with the brown boots I think it does quite nicely as a fall outfit option. And the color has just enough orange undertone to make it suit both my skin tone (I clash with cool tones, so bring on the warm ones!) and the impending cooler weather.
I love it. ♥