I'm just not normal...

Yeah, yeah, I can hear all the snickering. You’re all thinking, “So tell us something we didn’t know already!”

So okay, I will.

Of course, you already knew today was my first appointment at the Fibromyalgia & Chronic Fatigue Clinic. I couldn’t have breakfast or take my two thyroid medications because they needed to draw blood for lab work. They didn’t waste any time getting to it either. As soon as I filled out the usual insurance paperwork, the phlebotomist ushered me into her domain. There were no mirrors in the room, and I know the reason why –galactic class vampires work there!

First clue - she started out by asking if I’d drank any water today, and immediately handed me a bottle of water “because we’re going to need to take a lot of blood.” The little alarm bells started to ring, because I get light-headed and queasy if they draw more than a couple of vials at the doctor’s office, but I figured I was tough enough to handle it. (Pride goeth before a fall?)

I started sipping water and she started sipping blood…. uh, looking for a vein. That was the first obstacle of the day, finding said vein. She finally located one and delivered the “You’re gonna feel a big pinch” line. She filled up a vial, then switched tubes and filled another, and another, and another, until I finally got brave enough to ask her just how many vials she was going to draw.

She says, “Do you REALLY want to know?”
I said, “Yeah, how many?”
She says, “TWENTY.”
I said, “How many have you got?
She says, “Fifteen.”
I said, “You’d better hurry up, cause I’m going under.”
She yells for a nurse to get in there FAST.

Now if you’ve never fainted, let me say here that’s it’s NOTHING like the delicate swoon you see in old movies, where the heroine puts her hand to her forehead, sighs, and slowly and gracefully collapses to the floor.

No, a real faint, at least the kind I experience, is not such a benign experience. The light-headedness, buzzing in your ears, nausea, and feeling of sliding under and blacking out – it’s NOT a delicate event. It’s a nasty, hope you don’t ever repeat it, kind of experience.

I have no memory of them drawing the last three vials of blood. The next thing I do remember is my vision starting to clear a little, and this nurse peering in my face and saying, “Ah good, she’s back.”

No, I’m not normal. I have hard to find veins, and I faint if you try to drain me dry of blood.

At this point the nurses informed Jess, like or not buddy, you’re going to go in that room and stay with your wife! I guess the idea was if I had any more problems he could holler for help.

Fortunately, it wasn’t long until the doctor came in. She did the “tender points” test for fibromyalgia, and drafted Jess as her assistant to write down the results. Wow! Turns out I hurt in places I hadn’t even realized hurt!

She explained the various facets of fibromyalgia. At one point she was talking about the mitochondria and how they helped make energy, and I nodded my head and said, “Yeah, the Krebs Cycle.” Her eyebrows went up and she said, “Yes! That’s it all right.” Hey, I had biology!

She asked good questions, she explained things but didn’t talk down to me, she checked for physical findings, and then she really amazed me when she talked about some supplements she wanted me to try, and told me to just start one at a time, with a few days between to see how I reacted to each one before trying the next.

Oh my word! Amazing! A doctor with enough sense to realize if you give someone a whole bunch of new meds at once, and they have a reaction, you won’t know WHICH med is causing the problem. Impressive!!!

Next was getting some IV therapy. There we go again, hunting for the elusive vein. After a lot of “ouch, ouch, ouch,” the IV was finally in place and the young lady said, “There, the worst is over.”

Well, not exactly. For the next couple of hours my arm ached and my body twitched and shook all over. I seriously considered telling them to pull the IV, but kept thinking I’d hang in just a while longer. I managed to last until it was all in.

Turns out there was lidocaine in the IV, and 5% or so of people have an adverse reaction to lidocaine.

I’m one of them.
Like I said, I’m not normal.

It was a long day, much longer than I’d anticipated. Before I was through, there was another needle for a shot in the hip, and the need for a couple of doses of Immodium. And I listened to a lot of talk from other people there for IV therapy. Between what they had to say and what the doctor told me, I’m afraid things will likely get worse before they get better. The bottom line is I have to tough it out for a while, and just hope that in the long run, it will indeed get better.

Oh, and to survive all the “not normal” reactions while I’m at it.