Siiiiiiiigh. So today I went for my PFTs and to meet my new lung doctor aaaaand he’s a jackass. First he informed me that my last lung doc put me on the wrong medicine and so he wants me to stop taking my current inhaler and nebulizer medicine and switch to what I actually should be taking. Normally, I’d be all like, if it will fix this shit, then I am all for it. However, I find his recommendation absolutely baffling. For several years, I have used a Combivent inhaler, which contains both Albuterol and Ipratropium and have been using that combination in my nebulizer as well. So this new doc informed me I don’t need the Ipratropium, just the Albuterol. So his solution is to have me use an a plain Albuterol inhaler and just Albuterol in my nebulizer treatments as well. He said that the Ipratropium isn’t, like, hurting anything, I just don’t need it. So what confuses me is why removing the Ipratropium from my medicine will make things better. I was put on the Ipratropium because the Albuterol by itself was not working–I was using the inhaler far too often and the nebulizer treatments were not bringing the relief they should. When I attempted to explain this to Dr. Stupid, he promptly informed me, again, that I didn’t need that and continued on as though I hadn’t said a word. Whenever I asked about things, like the trouble I am having at work or the issue with the perfumes and cleaners or the freaky weird thing that’s happening that I really don’t want to get into, he gave me the exact same answer: if you quit smoking and this new treatment works, you should be fine. Every damn time! He wouldn’t even attempt to pretend to give a shit what I was saying or what I thought or how I felt. When I told him about the problems I have had in the past with taking inhaled steroids, he made a point of informing me, multiple times, that since I WON’T take an inhaled steroid, which would be the best thing to help my issues, that there just wasn’t anything else to do beyond putting me on the “correct” meds. When I attempted to point out the minor detail that it isn’t that I won’t take the stupid things, but that I CAN’T take them, he acted like I hadn’t even spoken. So basically, he did absolutely nothing but make me want to punch him. Thankfully, I have an appointment with my regular doctor tomorrow (or today or whatever) and I figure I will talk to her about this and get her opinions about what I should do about all this. I need to figure this shit out and try to get to the point where I don’t feel so crappy all the time and I can work without feeling like I’m going to keel over. Why can’t doctors just listen to patients and actually consider their feelings once in awhile?
I got to hang out with Rae this afternoon, which was cool. And we went to the Olive Garden, which is my fave place to stuff my face. I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned Rae or not, but she was my mom’s best friend, which means she’s kind of stuck with Donnie and I, kind of like a short, grumpy, yet loving and lovable non-related aunt or something. Anyway, she’s fun to hang out with and I totally love harassing her.
Daily randomosity: I think maybe they lace the black tie mousse cake with heroin or something, those sneaky Olive Garden folks. I’m pretty sure I saw Robby today, driving his dad’s work van. I mean, I know I saw the van and obviously someone was driving it, but I am not sure it was Robby, but it looked like it. Me on stilts would not end well. There’s a girl on this episode of America’s Next Top Model that refuses to pose in any photos in underwear, but she will pose in a bikini no matter how skimpy it is, which I find perplexing. She says it’s because only her husband should see her in her underwear, but apparently she’s okay with the whole world seeing her in an itty bitty little bikini that covers less than the underwear does. Weird. Why does the Progressive insurance box guy have to shower? And how does that work? I mean, he’s a box that appears to be made of some form of cardboard, so why does he need to shower and how does he shower without getting ruined? It’s not like he can get all sweaty and stinky and such, so why risk getting all waterlogged in the shower? I really wish I could have bought the adorable little zombie dude I saw at Half-Price Books today. That place is like some evil magnet for me or something, I just can’t resist its diabolical temptations.