How My Heart Breaks

My partner’s health condition remains a mess. You would think that since we have a good idea what is causing his symptoms, he could receive appropriate treatment. Nope. Such is his life being caught between having a diagnosis with a condition that our Government considers “real” vs. a condition that our Government thinks does not exist. If a condition does not exist, then doctors are not allowed to provide a treatment. Bullshit!

The conundrum is that “his numbers aren’t high enough” to get on a treatment regiment for the disease and co-infections we know he has — so specialist after specialist keeps telling us. We have seen NINETEEN SPECIALISTS since November! This is absolutely, positively, nucking futs!

The most recent visit with a specialist was this past Monday. He needed another doctor to do something rather than feed us all the usual blather without substance. Believe-you-me, we are “up to here” in medical blather.

No such luck. Another blood draw… results of which probably will be as inconclusive as ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-TWO (122!!!!) TESTS that he has had done since November!

Get it??? Understand why we are at wit’s end?

My partner continues to have multiple visits by the “dizzy demon” on top of joint and spinal pain, balance issues, slurred speech, and so forth. He has hours of being just fine — then without warning, multiple symptoms appear. Unfortunately, one of the symptoms of his condition involves inability to control emotions.

He tried to go to work yesterday, but called me in the morning asking me to come to rescue him again.

On the way home, he bawled like a baby. He is frightened, confused, and angry that he cannot get adequate and correct treatment for his condition.

Gosh, it hurts when the one you love hurts so much, and there is nothing you can do but suck it up and let him rant and vent his frustrations on the one closest — that’s me. I don’t like it, but I understand.

Meanwhile, more phone calls, more insisting on getting him treated. This isn’t over. We will NOT take medical mumbo-jumbo or avoidance-of-the-truth for an answer. Or non-answer as the case may be. Who knows, with as much studying as I am doing, I can convert my PhD to an M.D. soon enough.

Life is short: show the one you love how you love him — even if all you can do is let him scream.

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About BHD

I am an average middle-aged biker who lives in the greater suburban sprawl of the Maryland suburbs north and west of Washington, DC, USA.

One thought on “How My Heart Breaks

  1. Dr. brother,

    I have no words. I am beyond shock and belief. As you say, this situation is "nucking futs."

    You are a great caregiver, but as good as you are, I know you have your limits.

    I am there for you in heart, and wish that I could do more but figuratively hold your hand when we speak on the telephone.

    I love you, and love your partner. Keep up the vigilant fight, as only you can do.


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