It was November 2011, I was going about my day when all hell broke loose. I was dizzy, shaking, I had a migraine, and a list of other random symptoms. I was rushed to the emergency room; when I got there, I could not even sign my own name to the admissions papers! They poked, took blood, asked a bunch of questions and took an x-ray or two.
My husband rushed from work to meet me there as my friend tried to keep me relaxed and everyone of concern informed of my “status” it was chaos and I was horribly afraid of what they might discover.
After what seemed like a million years I was told I would be released, there was nothing more they could do for me and I should follow up with my primary care Dr. Maybe it was fatigue or something … something? That didn’t sound very “medical”. Against my better judgment, head still spinning and still unable to actually sign my name to the discharge documents, I walked out of the Emergency Room.
The next morning I called my primary care physician to schedule an immediate appointment. When I went in to see him I was still experiencing some very random symptoms, including vertigo, numbness and stuttering! My internist did an initial exam, ordered some blood work, and requested the ER documents so he could read all about it. Then he sent me home the same way I walked in only a little more aggravated. I went back to see him a few days later, he informed me that the blood work showed nothing “significant” but my symptoms that by the way… were still continuing on and off almost a week later, were a concern to him as well so he ordered an MRI. Unfortunately… insurance being what it is these days … (don’t even get me started on that!) I had to wait for approval. Wait for approval for a test that could determine if I’m like going to die or something? Really?! I needed to hear that like I needed a hole in the head! (My dad always used that term) So, I went back home to wait some more and believe it or not… oh I think you believe it… fight with my insurance company! If I was dying well …
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