Tired of Doctor Visits

It all began eleven months ago with a visit to the dentist. My dry mouth made that particular dental cleaning pure hell. The inside of my mouth could not "open wide" because it was full of ulcers. I was referred to a dental specialist for whom I had to wait two weeks. Then off to a Raleigh oral surgeon a few more weeks later.  All had hinted they would do a biopsy; none did. I was prescribed Magic Mouthwash, which I still use today. I can no longer eat sharp, crispy foods, or tomatoes, strawberries and peaches. They all cause me pain, as if were chewing on glass.

The latest diagnosis guessed from this year's dental exam was Sjogren's Syndrome. The dental technician said my mouth sores look exactly like Oral Lichen Planus (either condition can lead to cancer). 

My GP ran a few tests that ruled Sjogren's out, but I do have some type of lupus. Lupus is an autoimmune disease where, in my case, my body cannot produce moisture. Ergo, dry eyes plus dry skin.

Last week, I went to the dermatologist. It was an emergency visit for which I had to wait months. My skin was so dry, there were flakes of dandruff all over my face. Contact dermatitis and eczema covered most of my body. This doctor took a biopsy. Hopefully, I'll learn the results by next Monday, when I have the stitches removed. In over a week's time, I've made amazing progress. It's not obvious to others, but I am no longer scratching myself bloody from the insane itching. Prednisone is largely credited.

Yesterday I met with a rheumatologist for the first time because of the lupus diagnosis. My latest prescriptions are likely aggravating my dry-everything. The visit ended with more blood work being taken. What I have may still be Sjogren's. One test may have ruled out what yesterday's battery of tests will prove. I return there in three weeks, maybe with two answers.

As to my unsteadiness on my feet where I sometimes do an unscripted choreographed Doh-Si-Doh dance, that falls under the purview of a neurologist. When I have my next TeleMed visit with my GP, I'll need to ask for a referral.

Coming up, I'll visit my psychiatrist. The meds she prescribed may be affecting me too. Why the hell not? 

A New Project or Book

I've made so many blog posts in the last two years; mostly about Tulip. She remains a constant source of frustration, irritation, combined with such delight, that it cancels out all negatives. So, this evening I'm compiling all the posts I hope you will enjoy.

The working title is The Trouble with Tulip.

Like my cleaning lady said on Monday, "Tulip! I just cleaned that table!"

#Tulip

#Tulipbookhat table

#mischievouscat

What do you think?

I was playing around with ideas for a fourth book. The draft of my third book is being critiqued this month.

What I wrote started as a poem, then it evolved into different keywords to characterize Tulip's traits.

Here's what I have so far:

The Trouble with Tulip

To me, there are few cats worth writing about;

Of the many the felines I’ve known in my life,

Only two were worthwhile that I’d want to tout.

The first one was Liberty; who wrote his own Scrapbook.

The second is Tulip, my roommate, is currently… (I ran out of rhymes)

Tulip is:

Naughty in the nicest of ways

Mischievous, but forgivable

Forever unforgettable

Incorrigible - most like a teen

Gets into trouble like I’ve never seen

Always tests limits, especially mine.

Friendly to all, even to strays

No scaredy-cat, Tulip. She's spiced up my days.

Being curious hasn't killed her (as of yet)

I'm not sure if the world needs another children's book about cats.

Maybe I will just immortalize Tulip with a poem.

Any thoughts?

I got scared, for real!

Last Monday I took Tulip to the vet, as I've told you.

What I didn't tell you is that evening, Tulip seemed fine. I expected her to be lethargic after she had her annual shot. But she seemed OK.

But on Tuesday, I couldn't find my cat in her usual places, which was worrisome. I kept calling Tulip's name. No response. I  even rattled her food bowl. Not a meow was heard, nor did she run to me.

I thought, "Maybe she died. The vet's shot poisoned her or something!"

🙀

Eventually, I did locate Tulip hunkered down beneath the office desk. I petted her and cooed sweet nothings to her.  Nothing would get her to move. All day, she did not use the litter box once or even get a drink of water. That rattled me!

Never before have I missed my mischief maker as much as I did that day.

FINALLY, around 10pm, Tulip rejoined the living. What a relief!

How I cook has changed

Guess why? (You don't have to think very hard to get the answer)

    Tulip could get burned,

        or lick the spoon,

            or believe that she is a person; 

                therefore, she qualifies to eat people-food.

We went for her annual checkup today. Tulip gained over two pounds in the past year. 

I still have two unopened thirteen-pound bags of kitten chow. I'll donate them to the animal shelter the next time I am in Smithfield. 

Her new food will be a brand of indoor cat food. We still have a way to go before the open bag of kitten chow is finished.

On Open Letter to My Cat

Dear Tulip, my love ~

I look forward to a certain time in the evening. 

All of your "piss and vinegar" will have diminished to the point when you are sleeping soundly.

It is 9:15pm as I write this. All evening, you have been launching yourself at the living room venetian blinds. I'll yell at you (which is totally ineffective) or try to spray you with a water bottle. Nothing really fazes you, does it?

You bounce from the back of the recliners, then run like lightning into the hallway and back again onto your perch at the back of my chair.

You do take a pause in your shenanigans... once you knock off the plastic dish that covers the fire extinguisher. 

Why is it covered in the first place? Because when you jiggle the metal pieces on top, my nerves get jangled. I had hoped you would leave the darned thing alone because...well, you shouldn't realize it was still there. But covered or not, your curiosity remains.

It is time for me to acknowledge the fact that you are probably smarter than me. 

Love,

Mom

Sing to Cat Stevens' Tune

Morning has Broken

Lyrics by Barbara Crowley, with apologies to Cat Stevens

(Chorus)

Morning has broken

Someone, please fix it.

It’s known as day-break,

(Just so you know).

Cowbells are ringing,

Happiness springing,

So I am singing,

Like it - or not.

(Verse 1)

Afternoon’s too late to

Work in the garden.

Suffering heat stroke’s

Not my best plan.

Praise for the climate

In North Carolina;

Sure beats the winters

Spent living up north.

(Verse 2)

Evenings mean prime time

For watching the Bøøb Tube.

Network and cable,

Netflix and Prime.

All the subscriptions to

Disney and Hulu

Are costing me money,

And broken the bank.

(Chorus)

Morning has broken

Someone, please fix it.

It’s known as day-break,

(Just so you know).

Cowbells are ringing,

Happiness springing,

So I am singing,

Like it - or not.