When last I wrote, I mentioned that I had been even more crazy busy than usual; but in the interest of keeping the blog shorter than a copy of "War and Peace," I didn't elaborate. I know, they tend to be long; but hey, I warned you from the get go AND no one has EVER accused me of being short on words. Queen of MUCH TO SAY; that's me!! But I digress. So now something has happened, (Of course it has;) and though the story is funny in it's own right (Rubberneckers be prepared;) I dunno having a little background as to what my past few weeks have been like, just seem to make it a little funnier; and you know me; I'm all about the funny, so here we go.
About a month ago my husband started telling me that he was having some difficulty breathing when he would walk up stairs. He seemed to think it was attributed to more than the fact that he was overweight and outta shape (Hello Pot, it's the kettle, you're black.) Anyway, he was also complaining of lower back pain and his feet also started bothering him, but he thought that was because he stood on his feet all day, so he bought new work shoes. Ultimately I think he thought that he was having a heart attack so he went to the doctor. I know that he must have really been worried because it usually takes an act of Congress to get him to go. Anyway, the PA told him that his heart sounded great (hallelujah!) and that she thought he just needed a chiropractic adjustment. OK, we can do that, Michelle (not yet legally) K's ex- stepfather is a chiropractor and he has an office just down the street from us, so he thought he'd go there and get to feeling better in no time. UNTIL, he started running a fever that Saturday night. OK, so we fore go the chiro and get him an appointment back at the doctor's. This time he saw a doctor, but the doc wouldn't give him any meds until his lab work came back. (This was Tues) Finally Friday night the labs came back and we found out that he had high levels of strep in his blood. In July he'd had Strep throat, and although he got meds in a timely fashion and took them all; it didn't kill off the strep and now it had been in his blood for months and it worked it's way into his joints, causing him what was now; excruciating pain. He started taking the antibiotics but by Monday night he could not walk without my assistance, yup, his decline was just that rapid. We went back to the doctor on Tuesday. By this point I was driving him anywhere that he needed to go because he was so weak that he couldn't get around by himself. The doctor referred him to a Rhuematologist, who we just saw last Tuesday and then we went back to the regular Dr. this past Wednesday. The doctor ran his blood work again (which we still haven't gotten the results of;) but we're pretty sure the strep is still there because Tuesday night he was running a temp of 102.8. Wednesday morning I took my son to school, and my older daughter stayed home because her throat had been bothering her. (She had stayed home Tues too.) I took my husband to the doctor and waited with him for a half hour, until I had to drive my younger daughter to school. I came back and he had finished seeing the doctor but hadn't come out yet. When he came out he had a prescription for the same medicine that he had just finished. I said "No way!" I asked the front desk girl to call to the back office for me so I could speak to the Dr's. assistant. I told the assistant that my husband had been given a prescription for more of the medication that didn't seem to be helping, and I know that we are limited because he is allergic to Penicillin (of course he is;) but could she please ask the Dr. if Lavaquin would be an appropriate drug to treat him. (Tiffany had told me about that one, because she had taken it for a blood infection once and she too is allergic to penicillin.) 10 minutes or so later the assistant came out and gave him a prescription for Levaquin. Good thing I went to med school huh? Yah, I'm just fortunate that I had a friend who gave me some good advice, since the doctor couldn't be bothered to do his job. Before filling the prescription I checked with the pharmacist to make sure that this would actually be an appropriate treatment (since I wasn't feeling so confident in the doctor anymore;) I mean I don't think he'd give us a prescription for Levaquin just because we were asking for it; but hey, ya never know. Nonetheless, the pharmacist did say it was a good choice, so we filled the prescription, and thankfully he does seem to be getting better slowly but surely; though we still don't have his most recent blood work back, Surprise, Surprise.
I took my husband and daughter home and after picking up my younger daughter, my girls and I headed to the pediatrician only to find out after 2 throat cultures (yes, my poor daughter is deathly afraid of throat cultures had to have 2 because the nurse put the first one down "somewhere" and someone threw it away. Boy, do we have the luck) that she had Strep throat. Let me tell you how tired I am of that word.
OK, so now it's Friday; and I was supposed to have a dentist appointment at 430. They hadn't called to confirm, which is REALLY unlike them, so I called them (Can you believe it?) The receptionist said she was just about to call me because they wanted to see if I could come in earlier, and the appointment was only going to be about 20 minutes. "Easy in and out" she said. She even said that I could bring my kids and they'd watch them. Wow! They must have really wanted me in earlier. I agreed to go at 220; and since all I was having done was putting in 2 crowns, I wasn't even nervous. I've been doing SO much better at the dentist lately. It's amazing what 2 Xanax will do for you. Anyway, since it was supposed to be an "Easy in and out," I didn't take any Xanax. The Dr. put in the crowns and told me to bite down gently, AND, one of the crowns popped off and fell into my throat. OK, so I started to panic AND gag, and the doctor just sat there. I felt like he was watching a cat with a fur ball and he was just waiting for me to cough it up. By this point I was straddling the chair and doing everything I could do to get it out, but it was no use, it was lodged in my throat. He calmly said, "Are you having trouble breathing?" I shouted "NO, but I'm choking, help me get this out; it's stuck in my throat." He then called for his assistant Valerie. I LOVE Valerie, she tried to rub my back and calm me down because at this point I was crying. She asked if I wanted to go into the bathroom and try and make myself throw up. Now y'all know I'm a big girl and I'm sure that I don't look like I'm familiar with the practice of making myself throw up but at this point I was willing to try anything. Val came with me, and I got on my hands and knees (I don't know about you, but that's my official throw up position;) and I tried coughing really hard to make myself throw up, and of course... I wet my pants. I think I was more embarrassed about that, than choking on the crown, so I was trying to do my best to cover it up, while sticking my fingers down my throat. It was at this point that the dentist walked into the bathroom, (we hadn't closed the door;) and told me not to worry about the crown. He said "Don't worry, we're going to have the lab make you a new one at no cost to you." At no cost to me? Was he kidding? First of all, I don't think that while I had a crown stuck in my esophagus, I was worrying about who was going to pay to replace it; and secondly; is he out of his ever lovin mind? Like it would ever be MY responsibility to pay for the replacement - Oh My God!
I was unable to dislodge the crown from my gullet, so I returned to his chair and tried to cover up my semi-wet shorts. He kept telling me not to be embarrassed about the crown. Hell, the crown was not what I was embarrassed about, I mean it's not like I tried to eat it. He went on to say that this had never happened to him before. He said "All of the other dentist's that I know have had this happen; and I was wondering when it was going to happen to me. At least it happened to someone I like." What the hell? What in the world does that mean? You're glad you caused this pain and suffering to someone you like? WHY, because you think I won't sue you? Really, it seemed like everything he was saying was just out of fear of repercussion. He assured me that the crown wasn't toxic and that as long as I was breathing OK (which thankfully I was;) I would be fine. Oh why hadn't I taken some Xanax? He put in the one permanent crown that was left and then said Val would put back my temporary and he'd have the lab to make me a new one, "Maybe even better than the one you swallowed." Dr's funny, oh yah, The Dr. is funny. The only way it could be a better crown is if it doesn't go down my throat.
Ughhh!! "Easy in and out" I said. The Dr. finally excused himself and Val finished up. We talked about how poorly he had reacted, or didn't react as the case may be. I told her, "I'm not mad that it happened, because I know it was just an accident; but I'm mad at how he handled the situation because I felt like he did NOTHING." He didn't try to help me, he didn't try to calm me down, and instead he came into the bathroom talking about the price of the crown. Val said "You really need to blog about this"; and I told her, "Rest assured, I'd be blogging about this one first chance I got." I'm telling you - My dentalphobia has reached new heights now.
I went home and had to explain to my husband why I was at the dentist for so long. My husband said "We need to pray." And right about now, I agree. Anyone know where I can get a vat of holy water? I indeed need to purify my house - this is just insane.
On Saturday morning, The Dr.'s office called. The receptionist asked if I was OK and I said "yes, I'm just disappointed in him." She said that the Dr. wanted to speak to me and though I REALLY didn't want to speak to him, I said OK. The Dr. asked if I had passed the crown. I said "Not that I'm aware of." He said "Not that it can hurt you, but if you don't pass it in a few days, you should go to your Dr and have them take an x-ray so we can see where it is." Oh, good god. This is all I need. So now, I get to be my very own poop inspector. I've never wanted to see something so badly in my poop in my life; but thus far - No crown for the Queen.
Think good thoughts for me, I really don't want to have to go to the doctor, because you know I'm gonna be fighting with him over who's going to pay for that; not to mention that I don't want any complications from this ridiculous occurrence. I'm telling you, I really think I need my own reality show. I mean say it with me "Who could make this stuff up?" Imagine watching my reality show and I'm in the dentist's chair and I'm choking on the crown - can you say Emmy?
Well, please keep us in your prayers
Till next time...
Queen of EVERYTHING