Apr. 18th, 2011

commotiocordis: Green on black, an animated depiction of a normal heart rhythm on an ECG monitor. (Default)
Spent several hours on Sunday collecting names and phone numbers and everything of about 10 different psychiatrists sorted by increasing distance from home (since there are only 2 covered by my insurance here in my university's entire city, despite it being the 3rd biggest in the state). Was planning to call as many as it took this morning to hopefully find somebody who could fit me in on Thursday to tack on an anxiety disorder diagnosis and get some horse tranquilizers to maybe get me through the rest of the semester without, you know, having a panic attack so bad (or continuing on this unbreakable series of them) that I kill myself.

But then I realized. If I don't get my lupus/fibro/whatever diagnosis legitimized by a rheumatologist before I get psych diagnoses, it will be impossible for me to find a doctor who will look twice at any organic cause of my issues ever again. Especially because I don't have a very elevated ANA and need to find somebody who will try treating me based on mostly self-reported symptoms (you'd think the malar rash would be sufficient, but since I've figured out my triggers for that, I only have two or three bad ones a year, and what are the chances of making it in to a rheumy on one of those pairs of days?).

So.

Um.

Fuck.

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