I went back and forth about whether or not sharing a certain story was too up close and personal for this blog. I’ve decided to do it.
A few weeks ago I went to the doctor because I was experiencing some freaky dizziness that wasn’t okay. I obviously self-diagnosed myself and decided I had an inner ear problem that was causing this dizziness. I told people I had vertigo because when you Google the symptoms of a condition and you have two of those eight symptoms, you clearly have that condition (*you don’t have narcolepsy, OverSharer). It turns out my doctor thought it was a heart problem, not an inner ear problem. Umm, ok…
He wanted me to wear a holter monitor for 24 hours. For those of you who don’t know what a holter monitor is, Google an image of one. When your laughter subsides, continue reading. But people get holter monitors put on all.the.time, so I was like whatevs. However, Doc wanted me to wear it while I was working and drinking “excessive amounts of coffee”. I didn’t necessarily want my customers to think I was dying by having this contraption hooked up to me, and dying they would think since the sticky pads were the size of my hand and the top one was stuck to my chest, way above where my shirt was. Very, clearly visible. So I turtlenecked it to hide them and worked my shift, drinking “excessive amounts of coffee”. I also kept a “log” of activity and symptoms during this time. Go to washroom…no symptoms. Sitting down…dizzy. Lifting multiple milk jugs…mild dizziness. Sleeping…unsure?
I took the term excessive seriously. A beyond normal excessive amount of coffee was drunk, and I still, today, can’t have iced coffee. And iced coffee was my FAVORITE. I worked it out and over the course of the 24 hours I drank the equivalent of probably about 14 cups of coffee. Maybe that’s normal for others, but for me that’s ex.ces.sive.
Two weeks later Doc calls me and wants me to make an appointment. Well, I’ve worked in a doctor’s office, and I know they only call when it’s bad news bears. Great. Doc’s exact words at the appointment:
“Well, it’s not good.”
“I want to do further testing.”
“A 24-hour urine test.”
HAHAHA! Of COURSE he wants another 24-hour test. And of COURSE it has to involve urine. For those of you who don’t know what this test entails, well, let’s just say I pee into a jug over a 24-hour period. That’s classy. I’m classy.
Doc tells me he wants to rule out *insert big, giant medical word here*. Then tells me to Google it to read up on it. Well a) if you’re ruling it out, why do I need to know about it? Shouldn’t I read up on it if it’s something I actually have? And b) why are you telling me to Google it?! He, of all people, should know what a neurotic hypochondriac I am! So, of course, I Google it. Doctor’s orders.
“A rare adrenal gland tumor”.
Perfect. *calls Momma in tears*
Momma’s advice: drink more water.
My interpretation of this advice through hysterics: drink multiple cups of water throughout the next three days.
I am now beginning to despise water. Unfortunate, since we used to be very close friends, water and I.
Upon further conversing, Momma is convinced it really is a heart problem (not my self-diagnosed burst eardrum that has been causing my dizziness and will inevitably cause permanent deafness), and that I’m fine. Last time I checked a heart was pretty important, but I trust
everything most things she says, so I guess I’m fine?*
So I’ll keep y’all posted on my little situation. But let’s all be honest here; nothing ever just comes easy to me, so this little situation will be resolved a long time from now. I’ve already prepared myself for this. In the meantime, if you see someone carrying a jug around that’s partially filled with a liquid, that’s me. And it’s not apple juice.
*I know I actually probably am fine. But only my 24-hour urine test will tell.