Monday, July 14, 2014

Diplopia - A Funny Word for Pirate Life

I dont even know how to tell the story of my life the past week because it seriously seems made up, it's that crazy.

Crazy, dramatic, unnecessary, and all other words that would fit in those catagories.  

The hospitals, clinics, drs, research facilities, MS society...they all express the necessary life function of keeping your stress levels at an all time low.

At first, this was one of the hardest things to achieve as I had a stressful life.

But now I can say with no hesitation that my life, even with this crazy disease, is (mostly) stress-free.

The stress that I do find comes from: hospitals, clinics, drs. research facilities.  Do we see the irony there?

I'll summarize:

After numerous attempts to contact my MS specialists office (a MS nurse, a PA, someone!!), I received a phone call from the answering service saying that the office would like me to go the ER. 

I had been told the evening prior that I should go to the ER from a resident.  But was hoping my speicalist would provide better news because I am not a lover of hospitals. 

But now it looked like that was the option.  So we went. 

The morning of as I was getting ready I was mentally preparing myself for the ER craze.  ER's have been a chapter of the most awfulness in my past and I was concerned about that day's adventure.  I was hoping for a quick, concise, ER trip. 

And then I stop, saying to myself "hell, Eliz, the chances of that happening are slim to none.  Let's be real."

Then I "hear" the voice of God say "if you dont believe in miracles, they arent going to happen."  To which I replied "JK totally believe!! Please let it come true!!"

And you know?  It did!  The had me in a room and hooked up even before my mom parked the car.  They were nice and compassionate and even entertaining (who knew!).  They even got a vein in one stick (this NEVER happens). 

I went for a brain and optic nerve MRI (if you've never had a ON MRI, it's pretty intense.  The pounding of the MRI is right there on top of your eyes and you have to keep them shut the whole time). 

Results came back and the ER dr and the radiologist confirmed some bad news: three new lesions, one of each optic nerve (left and right) and one in the cerebellum.  They were sending down neurology and I should prepare myself for being admitted for a few days.

Neurology came down, confirmed the MRI, did the exam.  We talked about options, how steroids were out since I dont respond (this is now very purposely written on my file at UPMC.  Thank goodness.  Dr's have an easier time reading files than believing patients.  Go figure).  We discussed potentially doing plasmapheresis again even though I just went through 5 rounds a few weeks prior.  It was very calming and we even discussed some of my other questions that I have (like the whole parkinsons disease issue) and how this could be addressed during my time. 

Neurology left and though I was disappointed about staying in the hospital, I felt like I was being listened to, that I was being heard, that I was being a part of the deciding situation. 

(Of course I stuck to my hospital uniform: t-shirt, leggins and toms.  Hospital gowns are not for the experienced).

And then it all changed. 

ER resident came in and said my Specialist wanted me sent home, with no treatment, and he would see me tomorrow morning.  

Im sorry?  We were all on the same page that this was serious, that action needed to occur.  But now the great MS Specialist (who doesnt even practice in the hospital) says to order me home and no one has authority to tell him no?  

"Uh yeah."

Can I get a second opinion?  blah blah blah

"Um no.  Not in this hospital."


I'll spare my thoughts on the negligence of this situation. 

I went home and while I was happy to be in my own bed and not the hospitals, I was also concerned.  This was serious.  And I felt like I was being pushed into a closet.

The next morning I met with my MS specialist.  I left the office with no answers, no apologies (lots of excuses/explanations), and no plan of immediate action.  

My best option is to retrain my brain / eyes how to see.  I've retaught my legs, arms, speech, etc.  I can do this.  It just means the pirate patch might be around for a bit.  

And there is still the overall concern with how/why this is happening and so quickly.  But I cant think about it because there are no actions to take at this time.

However, if I may hint, I do have a big appointment in August with a dr who looks promising.  I have my doubts only because of the past two years history.  

But like what happened explained above, if you dont believe in those miracles, they wont happen.  

So I'm believing.  Im hoping.  Im praying. 

Oh and Im also relearning how to see.  Have I mentioned my body is kind of bad ass?

Keep up the love and sparklers!

Love, Eliz