penybobeny

Just another day in paradise... but there is a change in the air!! It is raining for the first time in months!!!!! Oh, wait a second... if it rains the grass will grow... if the grass grows I will have to get it cut... Sheesh, can't win for losing. Ok, on to more important things....

I saw my Endo for the first time in the hospital (thats one way to see them sooner, but I would not reccomend it) and yesterday I got to see the Endo for the first time in his office, and once again I almost burst into tears. It was probably one of the most positive if not THE most positive experiences I have ever had in a Dr's office. Not once did he call me crazy... not once did he say I was just fat and anxious... hypochindriac was never even hinted at... nope. What he did say was "there is something wrong with you and we are going to find out what it is and we are going to fix it". I could have kissed his feet. BTW... you can go to poetry.com and look at some of my poems there... just so an author search for Penny Rorrer.

Today I get a call from the Hospital... my lab tests have come back (the ones from the ER) and my fractioned metanephrines and a cortisol test both came back at 3x normal range... chances are my Endo will take these results with a grain of salt since there was some stress involved at the time of testing (being in the ER and admitted with chest pains)

Where to start where to start... I am currently being tested for Pheochromocytoma and Cushings, my Endo (who I was supposed to see for the first time on Oct. 1st but saw instead while admitted to the hospital) seems to think that I am just super lucky and have BOTH of them... story of my life it seems because I have always been on the low side of the percentages. Low side of percentages? (My own lil explination for the weirdness that is me) If something has a very low percent chance of happening some cosmic force then pute me in that percentage just to keep the numbers good... a few examples... *Got Reyes Syndrome as a child after chicken pox. *Had chicken pox a second time a few years later. *Had mono three times so far. *Hit by a Semi, car totaled around me and if I was wearing a seatbelt I would have been killed. Walked out of the ER 3 hours later with one broken bone in my right hand and a face covered with cuts from trying to make an impression on the windshield. *Was infertile before the Semi hit due to large ovarian cysts... the accident burst them and was pregnant a month later. *Had a major anesthesia issue (knew it would happen when they said less than 1% of people have problems with anesthesia... might as well have dared me) BP went way up and when treated went away... gone... ~poof~... they overloaded me with fluids to try to get a BP back causing my heart to enlarge and lungs to fill with fluid. (Just ruined the surgeon's day and surgery was stopped half way through) Woke in the OR to a voice saying "there has been a little problem, you will be okay"... next thing I remember is waking in what felt like an elevator and hearing a voice say "we have lost her pulse again, do we call a code?"... I was thinking "ummm... no". Next time I wake for a moment in ICU and hear a nurse say that I only have a 5% chance of living through the night... that ticked me off, no one tells me what to do! Next thing I know it is 5 days later and I wake with that horrible nasty tube down my throat and no one around, so I grab the bedrail and jiggle it to get anyone's attention. A nurse comes in and since I can't talk I try using basic sign language (alphabet) to ask what is going on, pointing to the tube then spelling out "why?". She grabs my arms and calls for help and next thing I know they are putting on restriants and telling me I have to leave the tube alone.... well DUH! I am getting really ticked at this point and use a few more basic... umm... finger messages to tell her what I think. My hubby comes in a little later and asks why I am tied down and they tell him that I thrashed around and tried to remove the tube! He looks at me and I am writing furiously on the sheet with my finger and he asks for a pen and paper.... well, I will not say here exactly what I wrote, but basically I explained that I was using sign langauge to ask why I had the tube. He chewed them out and the restraints came off, then he explained everything that had happened. I had to live with that nasty, horrible nightmare of a vent tube for three more days. It would not let me take a deep breath, I would try to breath and it would ring bells and flash because I was supposed to let it do it and just relax. My throat was killing me and my lip had a huge sore where the tube pressed on it... and the 'breathing treatments'... OMG!!! I would start crying the moment I saw them coming and beg them not to... first they would do the treatment... then they would suction. The suctioning felt like they were vaccuming out my lungs, crushing them and removing every molucule of air... it hurt so bad. *All 19 ankle surgeries failed, will now have to amputate... because of a friggin speedbump *Now looks like I have Pheo and Cushings... *hit by lightning... was at grandmothers when I was 13 and changing the channel (this was before remote controls) on the TV when lightning hit the TV antena outside... my hair was wet from a shower 1 second and dry the next. Yet... I still can't win the lottery???? I think the cosmic being has fallen down on the job... what do you think the percentages are on that?