The Pain That I'm Used To
My timing for illness is uncanny.
Rarely will you find me getting sick on a Monday-Thursday. No, any symptoms have to wait to manifest themselves on a Friday where you always assume there is some hope they'll pass. When they don't, you're well into Saturday or Sunday. And you're fucked.
I guess I could have gone to the ED to get checked out, but it's a bit pricey. Though Saturday and Sunday mornings at 03:00, I was actually considering it, as I could not sleep and each contraction of my throat sent me to new waves of pain.
Pain that I'm eerily used to - hence the title of this post.
This affliction does not happen often, but when it does, initially getting it resolved took eons. There are tons of bad doctors out there who never ever diagnosed the problem correctly. I've spent tons on incorrect antibiotics that never did the job. They'd mask the symptoms for a week or two, sure - but then BOOM!, everything was back with a vengeance.
Even one time I went to the Keys with this problem and ended up blowing out my ear drums on the plane - the little commuter one from Miami to Key West. I heard nothing for 3-4 days of that "vacation". A vacation I sat in a local doctor's office three times during that time away from work.
It was one man who put me on the path to better health - in more ways than I can say. I knew he would be my PCP when he walked in the exam room and had - gasp! - already read my chart. He didn't come in asking, 'so tell me what's going on'. He actually read ahead.
And while some could call it bravado to not really check with the patient, I found it refreshing.
All other docs were trying to treat me for a strep infection that was never there. Not because my culture came back positive, but because all the symptoms were there. The pain I had, to me, was in my throat - seemingly.
Dr. Graman told me otherwise. Before even examining me he said it was my Eustachian tubes. Looking over my chart and what I had been given in the past, he gave me one last antibiotic. He warned if this did not work he would have to aspirate my ear drums - which is just a more controlled way than putting me up in a plane to the Keys and letting an unpressurized cabin do it for me.
Ruckiry (not Jon's boss), the drugs did work. But here I am again, with the same problem - but at least I recognize it. And now I can steer whatever new doc I will see today (since Dr. Graman no longer practices in Ohio) in the right direction.
I should be happy that we were not on vacation when this happened (three more weeks people!), or in a plane.
Song by: Depeche Mode