Not everyone speaks your language

I was raised by a nurse and a laborer - Dad worked swing shift at Harrison Radiator before Dephi took it over.

I grew up hearing nursing terms and having the "general pick up" note marked with shorthand that I still to this day have no fucking clue what it means. I spent the greater part of my childhood sitting in the garage with my dad occasionally asking him to tell me about the parts of a car. If I wasn't there, I was in the pool or in the kitchen because that's where things happened with my family. We never really were "living room people." Life did not revolve around the television .

We have awesome conversations. But when it all comes down to it, we speak different languages within our professions.

Chatterhead
Subhead
Dropline
Cutline
Hold
NPO
PRN
Astigmatism
Corneal abrasion
Head gasket
Radiator

Right? You're wondering what in the hell I'm talking about, aren't you? They're all different words that are used in different professions and unless explained fully, a person with next to no knowledge of those fields *sigh* well, they just have no fucking clue what you mean.

This is about my last post. This is about when people in the medical profession use medical terms and fail to elaborate ... even when you've repeated back to them what you think they've said, regurgitated the EXACT opposite of what they actually want you to do, and they agree with you.

Wrap your head around that.

She said "hold the PTU where you're at." I said "stay on this dose." She said "then we'll repeat the blood work, but no meds before your lab work." I said "okay cool see you in six weeks."

At no point was the word "stop" or the phrase "discontinue use of medication" uttered.

I came home and continued feeling like shit. Got up the morning after my appointment and took my normal dose of meds. Forty-eight hours later it all started sinking in - how exhausted I am, how my clothes still fit but fit differently, the anger and my quick resolve to hate everything and everyone.

After that 48 hours I had stewed long enough to write yesterday's missive and I'm really thankful I did because after friends and family read it and commented, I felt it was time to make a call to the doctor's office to ask why I'd be left on the same dose. It wasn't really an immediate concern until the Boy read my post and said, "Doesn't 'hold' mean to stop?" which jumpstarted the conversation where I explained what was said and then essentially broke down in total confusion.

Because medical terminology being spoken to non-medical people is confusing, particularly when discussing diagnosis, medications, a failed pregnancy, how fat I feel and how beautiful this weather is all in the same 30-minute time frame. When I've had a single cup of coffee. And slept like crap.

So I called this morning. Even the girl on the phone was confused when I told her of the exchange during Tuesday's appointment.

"Hold usually means stop taking it. Let me give her this message and have her call you back."

I twiddle my thumbs, chat with a friend, talk to the kids, drink my coffee hoping it will help with the we-don't-deal-with-headaches headache that came back early this morning. I refuse to pee, attempt to take a shower or go outside for any reason because we all know those 10 minutes I'd be incapacitated would be when the phone rings.

She returned my call in record time. We discussed my appointment and how I'm really confused by what she meant when she said "hold" and then told me not to take my dose prior to getting blood work drawn and that it just seems crazy to have me continue medication when my levels are already really high and I feel like shit.

2-0 on the cuss words with my doctor's office this week.

"Oh. No. Stop taking it. When I said hold I meant don't take it anymore because you don't need it. I'm sorry for the confusion." (I'm paraphrasing because once I heard her say "stop taking it" I wanted to crawl through the phone line and throat punch her)

No, I'm sorry. Because if it weren't for the original conversation I wouldn't have taken two more doses of a medication my body does not need. Nor would I have become enraged at the fact my levels were allowed to get out of control after being controlled for the last year. I wouldn't have gotten upset enough to call to confirm the directions in the first place.

I also wouldn't be writing this to tell anyone who reads it to always advocate for yourself and be sure you and your physician are clear on what the directions, instructions and dosages are for your medications.

This isn't the first time I've run into an advocacy issue with one of my physicians, and I doubt it will be the last. The language barrier is alive and well.

Now, I'm ready to let my body do what it's supposed to do. It's time to relax and prepare for six weeks of hopefully getting back on track, getting rid of the rage and maybe even shedding the six pounds that will not go away.