Thursday, November 20, 2008

FUCK!!! Part Two

So, after a general urinalysis ordered from my GP showed I had a UTI and she wanted to put me on an antibiotic, I barged into my OB/Gyn's office demanding a culture. They of course thought I was a nutjob but did the culture and it showed negative. So, no UTI or should I say no UTI????

Also, the general concensus for my thrush situation is best summed up by the GI specialist we saw today who said, "I'm not convinced that is thrush." Holy hell. And her pediatrician is kind of like well, it'll go away on it's own. And my ob/gyn and GP don't think it's thrush. So, WTF????? Why can't someone say yes or no? I hate doctors.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sweetheart, doctors are like lawyers - they serve a purpose but you never want to have too many in your life at any one time. You are a GREAT mother and wife, but sometimes you can be a bit of an alarmist (that's why it's good that I'm 'Mr. Laidback'). ;) I luv ya.

- Big D

Annika said...

While the last thing you need is ANOTHER doctor, I'd suggest going to see a homeopath.

Amie said...

hey babe, not to get in an internet fight, but I think I my actions were the opposite of an alarmist. If I had been an alarmist I would have run out and popped the antibiotics rather than get a second opinion. and wanting to correctly treat my nipples and my baby's mouth when I am an ebf'ing mom is not alarmist it's essential.

Existential Waitress said...

OK, this exchange is starting to sound A LOT like one I would have (and have had many times) with my own husband.

Jason B. said...

I bought a bottle of whiskey for toddies when I was sick a few weeks ago. Toddies - hot Good Earth decaf tea, honey, lemon, and whiskey, mmm... But then I got better. The toddies weren't as appealing, I ran out of honey and lemon. But I still had the whiskey. So now I drink it with the baby's apple juice since it the closest thing to a mixer in the apartment. No point to that except I'm going to be an alky soon.

We must have told you how we took the baby to the emergency room at two in the morning when she was two days old because, to sum up simply (Monica would kill me for saying this so I'm taking a risk here) because the baby freaked out and spit up. They gave her a catheter. Three days old. We were there for, jesus, ten hours, maybe. She's never really been sick. There were problems with breastfeeding, but my point is that like the house that the airplane crashed into in "Garp" that she was pre-disastered or, rather, pretraumatized. We got it out of the way early. Man that was a fucked up late night, early morning, morning, and early afternoon.

Props. Mas propinas, chica.

Amie said...

I fondly remember a summer I spent drinking mimosas every afternoon. We had gotten a few bottles of champagne when we bought the house and I didn't want to let them go to waste. It really made the days nice.

Anonymous said...

Well, Hon, I wasn't sure if you were going to blog about this but I wanted to just mention it for the record -- we saw a specialist earlier this week and he said unequivocally that there was absolutely NO Thrush. Probably hasn't ever been. I was glad to hear that, so we can move on. Luv ya.

- Big D