I just got back from the doctor’s office and I’m furious.
Actually, that’s a good thing. It’s good that I’m motivated enough to be angry and I am not shaking and sobbing in a pile of frazzled goo. It’s good that I’m angry and not anxious because it reminds me that I am also not crazy.
No matter what this son of a bitch doctor says.
I started looking for a primary care doctor to see several weeks ago when the “man, I’m tired” feeling started to interfere with my day to day life. I was waking up tired, regardless how much sleep I’d gotten the night before. I was taking naps in my office in the middle of the day (yes, I know, I have the world’s most understanding boss.) and when I fell alseep at my desk one morning at 10:30, I knew I needed to do something.
“Is it depression?” people asked.
“I don’t think so. I remember how that felt and this… this is different.”
This is not a mental fatigue. Nor is the fact that my arms and legs keep falling asleep for no apparent reason a familiar symptom of depression. Or the fact that (men, I apologize) my periods have gotten lighter and lighter and then non existent. Going two months between periods is not depression. Nor is abnormally dry, itchy skin.
The irritability? Yeah, OK. I might have chalked that up to depression if that had been the only thing going on with me.
But I knew, and that’s the best way I can say it, I knew that something was going on with my body that was more than just depression.
And then on Thursday I had what was very likely my first panic attack. And that was the beginning of a very fast spiral down into a very dark place.
That was depression, thank you. Choking up over having to decide what movie to watch? That was anxiety. Clearly.
I got a refill of my Cymbalta – which I’d only been out of for two days- and on Monday morning I took a Xanax.
The fog of the depression and the breathlessness of the anxiety lifted. And you know what?
I was still fucking exhausted.
The difference yesterday and today is that I can see that the fatigue has progressively gotten worse, but it’s different than the feelings of being overwhelmed that come with depression. It’s different than fears and the shakes and the heavy sadness and the inability to cope with even the most basic decisions.
The fatigue is a physical thing. I’m looking at my life and I want very, very badly to participate in it. But I’m too freaking tired to keep my body upright for long enough to do much of anything. And with every passing day it gets worse, to the point where I’m desperate for a nap by the time I return home from taking Emma to daycare.
So today I went to see a doctor. I showed him my list of symptoms and tried to explain the progression of symptoms over the last couple of months.
And then he heard the word depression, nodded his head, and stopped listening.
“I’ll give you something for the anxiety to take in emergencies.”
“Um, OK. I wake up tired. Do you want me to pop a pill every morning when I get out of bed?”
“We’ll change your antidepressants. You’ll have to wean yourself off of the Cymbalta first, and then you can start taking Lexapro.”
“Um, OK. What about the tingling?”
“That’s anxiety.”
“I was running on a treadmill and my foot fell asleep. I wasn’t feeling anxious.”
“Yeah, you have depression.”
“Yes, I know I have depression. And I’m more than happy to try a different medication for that. But what about the other symptoms? It seems like, just maybe, there’s something else going on here.”
“Well, your symptoms say thyroid but your blood tests are fine. It’s depression.”
“Can you give me a referral to an endocrinologist?”
“Why?”
“Well, quite frankly, I know that in some cases you can have thyroid or other problems even with normal blood tests. Something is going on with me and I want to try to find out what.”
“I can’t give you a referral without a reason. And I have no good reason. You have depression.”
And he handed me a script for Lexapro and told me to call back in 4 weeks.
“What’s going to happen to me when I’m ‘weaning myself off’ the Cymbalta? Before the Lexapro kicks in?”
“Oh, you know, probably some anxiety.”
“Awesome. Thanks.”
“See you in 4 weeks!”
I told the receptionist I’d call later to make a follow up appointment. Right after hell freezes over.
I came home and called my insurance company to verify that I didn’t need a referral to see a specialist. Thank you, God, for PPO networks. The next call I made was to an endicronoligist that a friend of mine has used. It was the first doctor I’ve been able to call that I didn’t find in a directory listing.
“Why do you want to see us?”
I listed my symptoms. I told her about the blood work.
“Do you have a family doctor?”
“Er, um, well. Kind of. Yes. I just got back from a primary care provider and he told me I was depressed and my blood work was fine. Listen, I know that I have depression…”
“Have you been to an OBGYN?”
“Yes.”
“Has she ever talked to you about PCOS?”
“No, I’ve only seen her once and -”
“Some of your symptoms could be related to that. That’s OK, we treat that here, too. I just want you to be aware that we might test for that also.”
Oh my God, she wasn’t kicking me back to another doctor. Oh my God, she was listening to me.
She went on to explain to me that depression can actually be a symptom of “endo problems”, so to be sure to mention that to the doctor. She told me to make a list of everything I was noticing. She told me he would want to do more blood work and different tests even though the first tests came back normal.
She made me an appointment for May 20th and put me on a wait list for any sooner appointments that might come up.
“We’re sending you a packet in the mail so you know what to expect and what to bring with you.”
I wanted to cry and reach through the phone line and hug her.
“Thank you. Thank you so much. Thank you.”
“It’s OK. We’ll figure it out.”
And I believe her.
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Krystle | Snarky Kisses Reply:
May 5th, 2009 at 3:31 pm
@Bonnie B., I have PCOS, I have had it since I was 18, and you are irritable, always tired, gain weight, periods are non-existent and you grow hair far to fast in far to many bad places.
That’s it in a nutshell…
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