Second Opinion Part II

I usually don’t start taking any new medications until the weekend when Big Handsome is home, just in case something happens. I had become wary of medications as I still had the nagging feeling that the medication (Norvasc) I had originally taken might have started this whole downward spiral. I also don’t like the idea of medications that mess with the brain. I mean, really, I already had heart issues and blood pressure issues; did I really need problems with my brain as well? Remember, I have already said that I was a “pill virgin” my body is not used to taking any ol’ medication.

My son’s 12^th birthday was coming up and we had planned to take him and a friend to an arcade of sorts. He was so excited, looking forward to spending the afternoon with his best buddy (also our next door neighbor) playing all the video games their little hearts desired. Big Handsome suggested I take a pill before going (as stated above I usually don’t take pills until the weekend, this was an exception), that maybe it would make me feel better so I could handle the celebration of my son turning 12. I took the pill.  Big Handsome came home early; we went to pick up my son’s friend. As we approached the school, I began feeling a bit green, ok, a lot green. I just didn’t feel good at all. Big Handsome looked at me and knew something was wrong. He asked how I was feeling and I said “not good at all.” My poor son got that look of concern mixed with total disappointment. Big Handsome said we didn’t have to go to the arcade that we could just go home. I tried to tough it out, really I did. I mean, this was my son’s birthday for crying out loud. I began to feel worse and worse. Big Handsome suggested that he just take me home and that he would take the kids to the arcade and not to worry. Palease! Tell me not to worry that I am going to miss out on one of my gems’ birthdays. UGH! He ended up turning the truck around and taking me home. I was beyond disappointed; I could only imagine what my poor son was feeling. Little did I know that this was the first of many activities that I would miss out on.

Once home I had a mix of emotions. I felt so terribly depressed that I was missing my own son’s birthday and scared at the same time, because I was home alone feeling worse than poop warmed over. I called my sister. While on the phone with her, I told her what was going on (through tears), but then I started to feel weird all over. I can’t even explain it, but I do remember this, among other things; my groin felt very hot (I know, TMI, but that was what I was feeling). I had no idea what was going on. I could only assume it was the medicine.

At any rate, the weekend came and I popped another pill. I won’t lie, I was anxious. I had read the side effects and got even more worried. I remember Big Handsome telling me not to read those things because it just might become a self-fulfilling prophecy, but truth be told; I like to know what to expect. Sunday morning I was to take another pill. I came out to the patio for my morning routine of coffee and such and I started feeling weird. Big Handsome was on a conference call with work at the time. I felt nauseous and generally not well. I went in to use the restroom. As I sat there, I had an overwhelming urge to vomit and started sweating profusely. I remember quite well as I had on sleep pants and a long sleeved shirt (the weather was cool at the time). I also remember calling out to my son “GET YOUR DAD!” who mind you was still on his conference call. When Big Handsome arrived in the bathroom, he found me on the floor, my clothes soaked, even the palms of my hands had droplets of sweat, and I wasn’t moving. I felt like I weighed a ton and there was no way I was getting off that cool, tiled floor. Finally, Big Handsome had to pick me up and put me on the bed. I lay there exhausted. I also distinctly remember telling him that I could feel the blood rushing all around my veins; I was trembling on the inside (if that makes any sense). I told him to hold my hands and asked if he could feel what I was feeling; he of course, said no. I lay there for a while trying to calm down. I later found out that I think what was happening was that I was “flushing”, a feeling I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Needless to say, I didn’t take the subsequent pill. When I was feeling better, I called the doctor (yes, on a Sunday) and he said that flushing was not a normal side effect, but to not take any pills for a few days, and to then start them up again at half a dose.

I ended up doing what the doctor suggested. It didn’t take long (I don’t remember how many days, but it was not many) and I was on the phone to the doctor. I wasn’t feeling any better, in fact, I was feeling worse. When I called the doctor, I spoke to his “helper” who suggested I stop taking the pills. She told me that she was going to speak with the doctor and if they were going to change my medication, she would call me. She never called back. I could only assume that the doctor did not suggest anything else and I would have to wait until my follow-up visit, some four months later.

Four months later, we are now in the spring of 2010, I went in for a follow-up. I expressed to the doctor that I was still having the same symptoms. Since I haven’t told of my symptoms as of yet, I will now. I was still not driving, feeling nauseous all the time, no appetite, tired, fatigued, had trouble sleeping, still had high anxiety, GI issues, losing weight,  tachycardia daily, and had chest pains more often than not. His response: “I don’t know why you are feeling this way, you have a mild case of POTS and it shouldn’t be affecting you this way.” REALLY!!!! This was my life and I wasn’t dealing with it very well, and all he had to say was, “you shouldn’t be feeling this way.” It was then that I shut down and began to cry. He looked at Big Handsome with a “wondering why this weirdo is crying look” and Big Handsome stuck up for me and said, “Look, we’ve been to several doctors and nothing has helped, she’s frustrated and doesn’t want to feel this way anymore.” The doctor then asked (sort of reluctantly, like he was placating me) where in my chest did I have pain and discomfort. I showed him and he told me that it had nothing to do with POTS. SERIOUSLY?!?! Here I was at an electrophysiologist’s office (to my knowledge, this is a specialist that deals in heart related issues) and his response was “that has nothing to do with your heart”? REALLY, whom shall I see if I have chest pains, pray tell!!! And he was a heart doctor for crying out loud, could he have at least suggested why I have chest pains if it has nothing to do with my heart?? Thus, my third (of many) experience with an idiotic doctor. He then told me that there was nothing else he could do for me and suggested I see a doctor closer to home and that it might be a good idea if I saw a psychologist. OMG…how many times have we been told directly or indirectly that “it’s all in our head”? That is what I took away from this doctor; it must all be “in my head”. This, from a doctor that was supposedly a specialist in the field of Dysautonomia. Needless to say, I cried then entire way, yes, the entire one and a half hours home. Once again, I was back at square one…