Lyme's Disease

Last weekend, Diddy and I went to Roe's house to pick up our nephew Brady, so that Diddy could babysit him for the night since Roe was called into work. He has been spending every other weekend with her for the last few months, with an occasional overnight stay sprinkled in. While we there, Brady and I began to play a vigorous game of "Peek-a-Boo" in which I would hide behind the couch and pop my huge cranium up every so often.

During our game, I managed to twist my knee in one direction and my body in another. It was quite painful, but before I could even sit down to rest it, Brady hopped off the couch and grabbed my finger to lead me to the kitchen to play his other favorite game: "Look What I Did." Earlier in the day, he kept taking a sip of his juice and then would proceed to spit it out on the kitchen floor. He would lead me into the kitchen, so that he could play in his little puddles. As he led me into the kitchen, my knee once again went one direction and my body went the other direction, leading to double the pain.

For the rest of the evening, I hobbled around with Diddy and Brady, trying desperately not to show how much pain I was in. At the end of the night, I headed up the stairs at our apartment and for a third time, my knee went  one direction while my body went the other. By this point, my knee had given out completely and a lump the size of a golf ball had formed on the front of it.

Sunday was spent with most of the day having my leg propped up on the coffee table, and Rachel taking care of me. I couldn't make a doctor's appointment until Tuesday evening, which meant that the next 48 hours were spent with a hardcore limp.

I did not realize when I made my appointment, that they had given me the quack doctor I had months ago when I had the random spell of vertigo. Dr. Morrison is a very young doctor, who actually appears to still be in high school. I'm not completely sure how she even managed to get through medical school, considering she spends of the appointment not listening to anything her patients have to say.

After explaining to her what I did to my knee twice, she then becomes really silent. She starts to flip through my chart and and decides that I need blood work done, yet again. I was blunt with her and told her I didn't go the last time she ordered blood work, since I didn't see a point and I don't do needles nor blood. I'm not going to have myself pricked with needles and have blood drawn when I don't understand why she's ordering it in the first place.

After poking at my knee and asking about my levels of pain, she finally makes her diagnosis: Lyme's disease. Apparently you can get Lyme's disease from playing with your nephew. Once again she orders more blood work, wanting all of the work that I was supposed to have completed from May, plus a test for Lyme's disease. She then also gives me a prescription for steroids, which apparently will help with the swelling in my knee.

Out of sheer curiosity, I went home to look up the symptoms of Lyme's disease, in the hopes that she wasn't a complete quack, and limb swelling was a possible symptom. The beginning symptoms of Lyme's disease consist of the following: lack of energy, headache, stiff neck, fever, chills, muscle and joint pain, swollen lymph nodes, facial paralysis, conjunctivitis, poor memory, and an inability to concentrate. Apparently, by complaining about pain in my knee after twisting it, equates to Lyme's disease because it is just one of the many symptoms of the disease. Not once did I mention any of these other symptoms, nor did she even ask if me if I was experiencing any of them.

I've only had to deal with this woman twice so far, but both problems were "solved" through blood work and steroids. I could probably go in with a missing hand and she would tell me I need to have blood work and some steroids and my hand would miraculously grow back.

I'm a little nervous about going to my appointment at the office this week, since it's my yearly "Secret No-No" appointment and I'm not sure what doctor I'm even seeing. I'm going to call in the morning to ask who my doctor is going to be, and if they say Dr. Quack's name then I'm going to cancel the appointment and tell them that she's a quack. I'm hoping it is somebody else, just so that I can get the appointment over with, and then eventually find a new practice. Until then, I'm kind of stuck with this shithole of an office.