I went to the Urologist today. I went alone. I was 10 minutes late so they punished me by making me wait 2 hours. I overheard this while making out the check to pay them. What was I going to do? I needed to see him. He was polite but told me things were not looking good. He had taken out my stent on the left side of my ureter. I knew something was wrong because feet had been swelling and I had been feeling sick. I was right. My creatinine levels had gone back up. Normal levels should be a 1.0 to a 1.3 and I was at a 2.0. Still no way near when my kidneys failed. I was at 10.71 when that happened. But this means 3 more procedures to find out why. I’ve already had 4 biopsies and several other procedures with no answers. I hate telling my family. At this point they have lost their empathy, sympathy, whatever.
No one knows I’m getting worse all around. I just want to sleep. I don’t care about anything anymore. I don’t make jewelry anymore, I don’t take pictures anymore. I sit on the couch and pretend I have not been crying. No one likes it when I cry. I get reprimanded. Or they ask me if I need to go to the “Hospital”. Why? They don’t do anything for you there. You stay there for a few days, take your meds with some Benadryl, and do arts and crafts. That’s it. There’s no therapy or Dr. to talk to.
My appointment today made me late for my Primary Care Doctor. The Urologist’s office kept trying to call her office but couldn’t get a response. I was told I would be dropped as a patient if I didn’t make this appointment. Guess what? I don’t care. She doesn’t want to take Medicare patients anymore and this was her way of weeding them out. Congratulations. I see all specialists so what was she going to do for me?
I hate this time of year. Holidays, the anniversary of my mother’s death, the cold weather. I could do without all of it.
If the people in my life only knew what it took me to wake up. I feel sick all the time. Depressed all the time. I can’t enjoy food, my vision is going in and out, I’m cold all the time. I’m so f*cking tired. Not one person notices that my skin is the same color as a piece of chalk. Or that there is bruising under my eyes. How can they not see it? I’m tired of trying to force people to care. I don’t care. So we’re even I guess.