Guest guest Posted November 6, 2006 Report Share Posted November 6, 2006 Hi all, Well, I went to my pulmonary doc visit today and when he came in and asked how I was doing...I said, "Poopy"..That should have been a warning that he should retreat, but no. He went through the whole yada, yada, yada......I said you know, I am sick of it all, I am sick of doctors, I am sick of being sick, sick of waiting rooms, sick of being sick....etc. etc. He has never seen the real me....(except in the hospital and then I blamed it on morphine.) Poor guy, he is so sweet, and just sat down and let me carry on like a nut! I said something to the effect of looking into the face of death every day. He said that I wasn't looking into the face of death. Then proceeded to say that unless I have an infection, etc. etc. I might live five more years. Well, consider that I am immunosuppressed and unless I live in a bubble, how likely is it that I will get infections, duh! I fussed about no sleep and he suggested a hospital bed. I said NO! no hospital bed. I asked for codeine cough med, he said NO! It suppresses breathing, etc. At the end of all this....and it got worse, tears and everything...he suggested a psychiatrist...! I said NO! He gave me a prescription for Prozac. I have never taken an antidepressant. I think it is time to start. I was so embarrassed that I cried in the car. I usually hold it all in. Now the doc and you have seen the weak and useless me! Yuck! Hugs anyway....you have to still love me, it's the rules! Joyce PF 1997 Bronchiectasis 2004 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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