Bad medical experiences? Weak stomachs, beware.

[Lyric]

Have you ever had a truly horrible experience involving a doctor, a medical procedure, or a medication?

I've had some truly horrific experiences at the hands of physicians, and I am terrified of anything more than a checkup now.

The first was when I had my c-section. I had a spinal block done, and was awake for a procedure. To this day I still don't know what went wrong--all I know is that one minute I was okay, and the next minute they said my blood pressure was dropping way too low. The anesthesiologist gave me something in my IV and my blood pressure suddenly skyrocketed up to something dangerous, like 210/140. I felt the most horrible throbbing pain in my head--I was sure I was going to rupture a blood vessel in my head and die--it was indescribable. They were freaking out in that way that doctors do when they know you can hear them (talking loudly, repeating themselves, palefaced, etc.) The anestheiologist kept telling me to calm down, calm down, but it wasn't *me*--I felt like a leaf trapped in a whirlpool, completely helpless. Then he gave me something else to bring my blood pressure back down, and everything settled down again. Still, it was terrifying when it happened and I had awful headaches on and off for months afterward.

But the worst one of all was 2 years ago. My gallbladder had become infected and swollen; they had to insert a tube to drain out the infection, and they told me that I'd be sedated and numbed for the procedure. My doc insisted that it was 100% necessary--she couldn't remove the gallbladder when it was that swollen and inflamed, because it was "adhering" to my other organs (large intestine, liver, and common bile duct) and she didn't want to risk damaging them in the surgery.

They gave me Versed (which I think they were counting on to cause amnesia later--that's one of its side effects), didn't bother to numb me at ALL, strapped me to a CT scanner table, restrained my arms over my head with a sheet, and stabbed me in the abdomen with a sharp steel insertion tube. I felt EVERYTHING. They kept telling me "Oh, you'll be asleep soon, you won't remember any of this, it'll be okay" blah blah blah. I didn't fall asleep, and I remember every horrific second of it. The Versed was completely ineffective. Worse still, they managed to damage my diaphragm while trying to insert it, and I felt like I couldn't breathe, stabbing pain radiating up through my shoulder with every breath. I'll never forget the feeling of that sharp metal tube piercing me slowly. They didn't do it quickly--they stopped every few minutes to check their positioning on the CT scan. It was torture, plain and simple. When they finally hit my swollen, inflamed gallbladder, I felt the "pop" and nearly passed out from the pain. I was screaming and begging them to stop so loudly that ThinkBlue1966 nearly got herself arrested, trying to get into that room and help me. I have never seen her so angry as she was when they finally brought me out, still sobbing and trying to breathe. I thought she was going to attack the guy who did it.

I seriously thought about suing them afterward--for failing to properly numb/sedate me, for making me go through torture that was 100% avoidable, and for doing all of this while giving me Versed, a drug KNOWN to cause amnesia. I still feel that they were careless and neglectful on purpose, believing that the Versed would make me forget it all later. I suspect I'm still suffering from PTSD from that trauma, and I've been avoiding medical procedures (like the lithotripsy that I need for my kidney stones) ever since. If we'd have had the money for a lawyer, and if I hadn't been so ill for two months afterward, I probably WOULD have sued them. God knows they deserved it.

I really ought to see a psych doctor about this, because I can't keep having full-fledged panic attacks every time I need medical care. :(

[Cannikin]

1. Uh well...not to discourage you from seeing a psych doctor.....but:

I was having extreme anxiety and panic attacks several years ago. I would stress myself to the point where my anxiety was like spiraling upward in a chain reaction until I would have a full on panic attack. The anxiety would persist for days or weeks before I finally became exhausted and had to rest for days. My primary Dr decided he had done all he could do for me and referred me to a psychiatrist. Within 10 minutes of me trying to explain what was happening, all she heard was 'highs and lows' and immediately decided I was bi-polar.

She put me on lithium, zyprexa, symbiax (a prozac/zyprexa mix), klonopin, lamictal...lets see, did I leave anything out...hmm. She made me promise to take them as prescribed religiously. I did. I became an emotionless zombie who was unable to function like a normal person. I literally could not lie down without falling asleep within minutes or sometimes seconds. You could carry on conversations with me and I would have absolutely no memory of them. I couldn't remember anything. I slept on the couch all the time. My partner was as supportive as he could be. I had to drop out of school. I couldn't keep a job. I had such severe tremors (I think from the lithium) that I was completely unable to write legibly. I kept having minor (and a few not so minor) traffic incidents and eventually decided not to drive at all. I expressed my concerns to the Dr, but she persisted that I stay on them for my own good. I was on the medications for almost two years. By this point, my partner had become worn down and unable to deal with the fact that even though I was right here....I wasn't here...if that makes any sense. He decided to leave me. Then I was left to deal with this all on my own.

I decided to start slowly discontinuing the medications. I was convinced after researching it online, that I was in fact, not bipolar, but suffering from a bad case of generalized anxiety. She did eventually agree to take me off of the lithium for the sake of controlling the tremors so I could try to work. It was effective to a point. But I still couldn't remember anything (zyprexa is evil!). I had little or no short term memory and my long term memory was effected as well. I still could barely work effectively. I had to write down the most basic parts of my job. Things I repeated over and over, I still had to write down because I would forget what to do. One of the medicines caused me to start to have bad outbreaks of acne on my back where I had never had a problem with it before.

I slowly took myself off of everything except the klonopin for anxiety, and the lamictal, just in case I was wrong and did begin to hit a low. Its an antidepressant with little or no noticeable side effects. I slowly began to get my personality back. I started leaving the house again and resuming a normal life. I was absolutely fine with just the two medications to keep my anxiety in check. This was at the end of last year. December if I recall. To this day, I haven't shown any signs of bipolar disorder. No mood swings. No unusual behavior. Nothing. I even managed to get my partner back (that saga will continue further down). I still cannot recall things, conversations, events that happened during that time. Its like I have a two year hole in my memory.

Now, I have slowly stopped the lamictal. But my anxiety issues are still there down deep. So I keep the klonopin and take it on an as needed basis. I talked my new primary doctor in to keeping me on the klonopin without sending me to another psychiatrist. He agreed with my assessment that I am in fact not bipolar.

I never want to go down that road again. I don't know if I could ever trust the opinion of a psychiatrist again. I think they are far too quick to diagnose...which leads me to chapter two of the Cannikin and his partner story...

He came back in late December when I became 'me' again. Unfortunately, as hard as I've tried to sympathize with him, I've been unable to deal with the fact that he left me during that time. He cant promise he wouldn't do it again if the situation was to reoccur. What if I had cancer or HIV or something similar? I need someone there I could count on to be with me through the tough times if they should occur. Recently, I decided those issues were not going to go away, and I told him I wanted to separate. He hasn't taken it very well. So...last week he decided to get psychiatric help to deal with the situation. Again, within a half hour, his Dr decided he had some kind of 'daddy issues' and started writing out prescriptions. Welbutrin, propranolol, klonopin and Cymbalta. Now, within a week he has passed out twice, and vomits when he regains consciousness. He feels terrible. I've encouraged him to call the dr soon and figure out whats going on. And he agrees he does not want to become what I became.

Needless to say, I have lost faith in the opinions of psychiatrists. As I said before I think they are too quick to diagnose and too quick to prescribe too many medications.

All of this over anxiety and panic attacks (which started the very night Bush announced his intention to ban gay marriage in the constitution..related? I'm not sure). It ruined my chance in school, at work, and ruined a great relationship that might never be able to be repaired.

I'm slowly putting my life back together. I have a job that I love now. I'm able to keep my emotions under control for the most part (naturally, there is going to be stress and anxiety during the break up of a 6 year relationship). And I will never allow any doctor to put me on all of those or any other medications without getting a second (and maybe third) opinion.

The moral of the story, boys and girls, use extreme caution when seeking treatment for anxiety or depression. Nobody should have to go through what my partner and I have been through. Its not worth the price we've paid.

[mainegreen]

2. You've really had some shitty luck haven't you?

Sorry.
:grouphug:

[dropkickpa]

3. A couple, not as bad as yours though

The first was a dermaologist I was seeing shartly after I had my daughter. He was rude, condescending, and just a fucking dick. He put me on Accutane while I was still breastfeeding (even though I asked him about it) and I firmly believe that, when, shortly after I quit taking it and was robbed at gunpoint at work for the 3rd time, the after-effects of quitting accutane (3 days before) predisposed me to developing PTSD. I'd never before in my life had anxiety or panic problems, but shortly after the robbery I had a BAD case of PTSD. Still do, a little. Won't go in video stores AT ALL (was managing a video store at the time).

The second case was when I was having several moles removed. A fairly large one on my arm by my elbow was the last one they did, and the lidocaine had not numbed me at all. The guy starts slicing the mole off with a scalpel and I yell "FUCK! That hurts!" and he stops in the middle of cutting it off. I told him "Just fucking finish it!!" After he finishes, he proceeds to attempt to use silver nitrate to stop the bleeding. That shit hurts like a muthafucker! I'm a vet tech, and, unless it's an emergeny, we won't use it on an awake unnumbed animal. Fucking idiot. AND, he didn't get all of the mole, so now it looks all sickly and splotchy and I am EXTREMELY reluctant to get it fixed. The one in my armpit (right in the crease) required a further biopsy, and, after having the biopsy done, I developed an abscess in reaction to the suture material (in my muthfuckin armpit) that took 6 months to fully heal, I had to wait for the last little bits of material to be expelled. Let me tell you, you did NOT want to stand to the left of me last summer, my shit was pingin' between not beaing able to wear deodorant and the abscess.

I seriously doubt I would voluntarily go to a dermatologist again. And cosmetic procedures like botox will never come near me, I'd probably end up with klingon scarring and botulism.