Munchausen Syndrome? Fuck me.

Here and there in my blog I hint at various medical annoyances I've had to deal with. And now, I'm stuck in a medical treatment purgatory I can't seem to get out of. I feel like Al Pacino in The Godfather.

It's my fault really. When I returned from Thailand, and finally got my current job at a non-profit, I was thrilled to receive top notch, free health insurance. For the first time in nearly 4 years I'd be able to see doctors and dentists for things I had either ignored in Thailand or sporadically treated at various medical facilities, some of questionable competence.

So when my current health insurance kicked in, I decided to get everything checked out. Every pain, annoyance, and confusion about my body. This eventually spiraled out of control as I've been diagnosed with various things, (some previously diagnosed), such as Depression, ADD, HPV, grinding teeth while sleeping, hypertension, an elevated level of testosterone, muscle knots, c-curve scoliosis, some strange acne thing I still don't get or care that much about, and the ever-charming Irritable Bowel Syndrome. And I have been sent to a plethura of specialists, now including a: gastreonotolgist, cardiologist, psychiatrist, dermatologist, physical therapist, and gynecologist). And as with most doctors, they love to hand out their "scripts" and I began to accumulate bottles of pills that came to alarm me a great deal.

At this very moment I am wearing a "blood pressure harness." This is basically a blood pressure cuff hooked up to a device that looks like a extra thick ipod, connected to the cuff by a long thick cord and nestled in a black, leather case. I was terrified that I'd be arrested today since NYPD has just begun in earnest to search people going onto the subway. Imagine a woman with long cords coming out of her shirt and something bulky under her sleeve during this climate of suicide bomber fear.

Every half hour the damn thing sets off and squeezes my arm so tight I bite my lip and wince. About half the time the reading doesn't go right, the cuff releases, and about two minutes later, it tries again. I tried to take a nap today, but the feeling of someone trying to squeeze the life out of your arm works better than my alarm clock at jolting me awake. Trying to sleep tonight should be interesting.

I've been watching the readings, and have been absolutely stunned at how high they've been. I've had high blood pressure in the past, but it has usually returned to normal. I'm seeing my diastolic readings around 110 (the second "lower" number of your bp) and it is a bit frightening, so each time this damn thing goes off, I sit in apprehensive anticipation. I'm sure that in itself pushes the bp up a bit.

I'm forced to wear this for 24 hours since the doctor suggested I may have "white coat syndrome" which basically means just being in a damn doctor's office makes your blood pressure go up, and since this particular doctor was at the ob/gyn clinic, a place i ALWAYS hate to be (all women will understand what I mean), it seemed plausible. But why wear this damn thing? Well, my beloved birth control pills are hanging in the balance. If my bp is high, they're going to take away my birth control pills. This frightens me on many levels. It's true that I don't have nearly as much sex as I'd like lately, but for those fortunate times I do, I'd hate to be without these pills, even if though there are condoms involved. But even more importantly, I fear my period without the pill. Before I began taking the pill, my period was a nightmare. Long-lasting, very very heavy flow (sorry guys), awful bloating, and cramps that would bend me in two. Worst of all, it was very irregular, leading to a few accidents in high school which make me turn a shade of scarlet now when I recall them. I still remember as a sophomore, sitting in the front row of my Chemistry class, and actually feeling blood beginning to come out. I was wearing a short, light yellow skirt and no tampon/pad. When the class ended, I was terrified to get up to leave. Somehow I eventually made it to the bathroom.

If I never have sex again (please God, no!), I would at least want these pills to keep me from the menustration hell I had before. So this is why I dutifully wear this damn harness and grow more and more concerned with each high reading. The only "low" readings I've seen so far were when i was woken from my nap..so basically, when unconscious.

Anyway, back to my other cornucopia of health problems...

What the fuck is going on? When did I become the poster child for Munchausen Syndrome? Is this all in my head? My god, what have I turned myself into?

About one to two months ago, I just grew tired of it all. All the fucking pills, the constant doctors appointments (and having to miss time off work for them), the referrels to specialists, etc. I'm just done with this, done. Nothing is SO wrong with me that I can't just walk away from all this bullshit. At least, walk slowly.

The cuff just strangled my arm again. 164/111. Jesus Christ.

A month ago I sat in my psychiatrist's office -- a man who greatly amuses me. He looks like Bill Murray in The Life Aquatic, and yet has a personality completely opposed. My shrink is probably the most stoic individual I have ever met. As a psychiatrist who does research only on the drugs themselves, he is not there to offer any therapy, but simply to find out what his pills are doing to my body. And yet, I really like him, though I hate when he lectures me about various things. And I've finally got him to smile a few times and even make somewhat humorous comments. Anyway, he was a bit taken aback, despite the fact that I've been on these damn anti-depressents for what seems like forever (perhaps about 10 months?). He lectured me for about 10 minutes about all the possible outcomes, particularly focusing on the dangers of going off, especially going off to quickly. But I stood firm. I know I'm as ready as I'm going to be. Do I feel "cured?" No, not really. But I know that "cured" is too elusive for me to comprehend. What's "cured" from Depression? When I'm walking down the street, whistling, and occasionally bursting into song? When I don't dissolve into tears when my financial state becomes rather dire and I use my credit card just to eat? All I know is that I'm ready to get off, and that's good enough for me.

Slowly, I've been shedding other medications as well, and have only kept the ones I felt essential, or those that are only taken occasionally when "needed" as with my Ritalin (jury duty!) or my Dicyclomine (once or twice a month when my IBS reaches unbearable levels). And of course, my birth control pills.

Yet, as I have made a very purposeful decision to remove pills, doctors, ills, and appointments from my life, it seems to be having the opposite effect. Doctors are actually CALLING ME to come in and see them! For Christ's sake! It seems the harder I try to run away, the more things that keep popping up. The ob/gyn doctor, the dentist, and the shrink have all called me to come in. And now that this fucking bp harness is spitting out alarmingly high readings, I'm sure I will soon become friends with a cardiologist.

I don't know what to do. I want to keep resisting these appointments. I feel "if I just go to this lasr one, it'll be finished." Assuming I don't try to throw myself out a window in the next 5 weeks, I will be off anti-depressents and my Stoic Shrink will fade from my life. And after Monday's cleaning, perhaps I can erase my damn aggressive dentist from my life, at least for 6 months, despite the fact that she'll push hard for me to get a night guard for my grinding and gel for my not-white-enough teeth. Screw that. Since I began to pay off my monsterous student loans, anything that's not food or toiletries feels indulgent. Maybe i'll stick some gum between my back teeth at night to keep them from sanding each other down to nubs.

So here I am now, wondering if I am simply a Munchausen idiot and not realizing it since I seem to have made myself a hobby of seeing doctors. Maybe these bp readings are me wanting people to feel sorry for me, isn't that how the Syndrome works? It's true, my family has a strong history of heart disease (they've all died from it, some rather young), so having that as a health problem doesn't really surprise me...and yet...and YET this is just not right. It's just not. I've got to take better charge. I've got to lose weight (cancelling my gym membership a month ago for financial reasons has resulted in putting on even more pounds), and I've got to beat all of this. It's just got to end soon. I guess I'll touch back later. Wish me luck.

Final bp check: 147/111