So, get this.
After having dealt with the previously mentioned stomach ache for more time than I cared to admit, yesterday afternoon I called the doctor. You should note that I never call the doctor. I prefer to complain about my symptoms to whoever happens to be around, and then run with the random guesses that they spew forth. Leprosy? Indigestion? Kidney stone? Sure. I'll go with that. Anything to avoid going to the damn doctor. But by 3:00 yesterday afternoon, when it was looking like someone would have to throw dirt on whichever piece of ground I'd fall down on, I called and made an appointment for last night.
After waiting the normal two hours that one needs to spend in my doctor's purgatory of a waiting room before she deems you worthy of an exam, I was ushered into one of her little torture chamber/exam rooms. I told her my symptoms, and then immediately informed her that (a) I'd been kind of... stopped up for the last couple of weeks, and (b) I had strayed about 58 miles from the regular Path of Diet over the weekend. She nodded her head, noted all of this, and then told me to lie down so she could poke me with giant flaming clubs and spears. Oh, you think I'm kidding, don't you?
"Does this hurt?"
"How about this?"
"Ye-OWWW! JaysusMaryandJoseph! Yes!"
"How about this?"
Then she took some blood to make sure that I hadn't picked up some weird bacteria somewhere along the line. I asked her, "Where could I have possibly done that?" And she noted that I have, of course, travelled. Which of course, puts me square in the middle of the Land of Paranoia, because I've lived in England and it is therefore quite obvious that I've contracted Mad Cow Disease.
So, THEN she says, "But I doubt it's anything like that. It's an ulcer."
She nods, and shrugs, turning away to write it all down. "Yeah," she says. "I'd bet my licence on it. That's an ulcer." So then she gives me a prescription for an EIGHTY-EIGHT DOLLAR! med called Nexium that's supposed to lower the acidity in my stomach and make the Godforsaken pain go away. And I took the first one this morning. And I still have a stomach ache. Dammit.
But this is the kicker: I've spoken to friends and colleagues, and they've all wondered how my doctor was able to diagnose an ulcer without some internal tests. Endoscopy, anyone? Barium X-ray? And you know, those just sound kind of icky, so I think I'm gonna run with her guess 'n' 'scrip and hope for the best.
Ow, though. Damn tummy. Ow.
Have a darling of a day, lovelies. Keep your pains to a minimum.
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