More Entrails Tales

8:15 am: My Dr appointment time.

9:00 am: Called back to exam room. Vitals & history checked. Yes, I still have frequent headaches, a stiff neck and the trots.

9:20 am: Dr comes in, reviews my test results. Abdominal MRI was fine. Blood work, fine. Stool cultures, fine. Nothing showed up. Not even giardia? Cryptospiridium? Nope. Everything came back just FINE.

I point out I don't FEEL FINE.

Dr whips out his pass-the-buck pad; do I know any particular gastroenterologists in the Valley? No, I say, sullen and trying not to cry.

But hey, I don't have a tumor or need surgery. I do, however, need a colonoscopy next. And judging from the still primitive (read: barium) approaches to testing here, I'm virtually assured of having a piece of PVC pipe shoved up my bum for a look-see.

He refers me to a woman in the Renaissance Hospital system. Any more questions for him? Not at this time. I trudge to the front so the thick headed receptionist can make the GI appointment (they do that for you here; it's damn inconvenient, like not being able to pump your own gas in Oregon).

I also have to haggle with Dim Sum to get an earlier appointment for my recheck next month. She ASKED and I said my preference was early morning. My appointment card: 10:45 am. Got anything earlier so I don't miss another half day of work?! Oh, I have 8:15 am available that day.

9:40 am: I escape to my car and burst into uncontrollable sobs, disappointed with the lack of answers/solutions and those damnably normal test results.

Collect myself, drive home, curl up next to Mike while he strokes my hair and says he's sorry it's turned out this way. He gets ready and drives my draggin' ass to work.