The Big Day

Tomorrow is the Big Day. I'm going into Boston first thing in the morning to see an infectious disease specialist at Tufts Medical. Of course I don't get to see the actual doctor the first time around. No. My time isn't as valuable as his. My illness not yet worthy of his attention. I get to see one of his fellows. Even though myself and my illness have been snubbed at least I have an appointment. I have a foot in the door. I am one step closer to "the specialist".

I am actually excited about this. I got all of my medical records sent over which includes three rounds of blood work, two TB tests and a chest x-ray. (I had been exposed to pneumonia and was hoping it was that. Sigh. Fat chance.) I have my entry papers for Tufts and even a little card that I was issued when I had eye surgery done there a couple of years ago. My little piece of plastic lets me forgo the obligatory visit to the registration department where they issue little bits of plastic. Ok. Now I want to scream "the medical system is SO F*&^ed up!!!"

Patience. Patience. It has only been four and half months since first falling ill. I still don't even have a real diagnosis yet and I have insurance forms that have to be sent in soon so I can collect long term disability when my sick leave runs out. Of course the CDC doesn't help much with this. Their criterion is that I have to be sick for six months before they even call it chronic fatigue. Doesn't matter that I've exhibited post exercise malaise since day one (this is one of the hallmarks of CFS). I have to be sick for six months before I qualify for the diagnosis. Insurance forms be damned.

I have to take my shower tonight and lay out my clothes and papers. I won't be functional in the morning. I have to get up too early. Because "the specialist" is so busy I could only get a 9am appointment rather than something in the afternoon when I have a chance of being coherent. I hope they don't think I'm an idiot. I sure act like it when my brain isn't working from the CFS.

Wish me luck!