If this discussion had really been like the Microsoft discussions, every time someone said, "Does anyone have any ideas for what do about this rash?" someone else would say, "That's what you get for going to doctors."

If this discussion were like the Microsoft discussions, it would be about a software product and not a group of human beings.

In re Cheney - can we call him Heartless Dick? soooo descriptive!

I have skipped and skimmed and skipped and skimmed and shut my damn mouth on both sides and skimmed some more, and am now posting to say:

TEPALINA! I am vibing hard that when your "it's nothing serious" embarrassment is delivered, you will tip in cash.

Steph, I hope the ER finds the chest pains have a benign cause, ideally one that's unlikely to repeat.

I'm lucky with my current doctor. I'm overweight—probably by around 80-90 pounds. My doctor, Dr. N., would like me to change that, as she's concerned about my joints. But she doesn't try to shame me, and when I come in with a specific problem she doesn't try to blow it off as something that would get better if I'd just put down the fork.

Dr. N. continues to be my current doctor, even after I moved to another town, because of this attitude. I've had other doctors whose attitude, comments, and refusal of care—explicitly due to my weight—endangered my health. I was in my 30s before I found Dr. N., and I will not go to another primary care doctor until I move out of state or until she retires.

Doctors are humans whose perspectives are influenced by the surrounding culture, and US culture is pretty hateful toward the overweight. I think they're as likely to be jerks or to be kindly as any stranger in the street, but they're in a powerful position as the gatekeepers for most medical care. So any jerkiness or kindness they manifest is going to be a lot more powerful than said stranger's. When channeled through health care providers, anti-fat asshattitude can stand between us fat people and getting necessary health care. It can be a determining factor in whether or not we get the resources to make pain stop. Some of our most vulnerable times are around health care practitioners—we're sick, or short of breath, or in pain, and frequently unclothed.

So yes, it's important to remember that health care providers are human, with families that love them and the variable strengths and weaknesses that comes with being part of our species, in this time and place. It's also important to find doctors who remember that we're also human, even those of us who are fat, with our own health concerns, pain, and frailties that may or may not have anything to do with our size.

I think I have come down with whatever ick the kids.were sneezing all over the place last week.

The only thing that bothers me about Cheney's heart disease is the fact that I have no part in it, being God's punishment and all. I would very much like to punish the ignorant motherfucker in Virginia that set that moldy oldie free. Extra-special fuck you, considering my mother did lose a baby as a teen(which was really best for everyone) and she felt the need to explain to me that she didn't feel punished by me. We had enough fucking problems. Not to mention the horrifying policy implications of not wanting to educate "Mama's little judgment" I'd like to finish up Comment style, with a nice quote from Disraeli or someone, but I guess I'm stuck with the immortal words of Stan Lee: "Arrgh...Hulk smash! And if your friend is a fucknut in VA state government, I have no apologies, but plenty of condolescences. Where the fuck is Chatty Cathy Palin now? Since she had the only disabled child.

I have skipped and skimmed and stayed the hell out as well, but I have to say a) {{{WS}}}

Andi, you are just one of the loveliest people, period. I know that whenever I'm feeling down and grumpy and like whenever I say anything it's being lost among the other more colorful personalities, you always, always manage to say something that makes me smile. And it pisses me off no end that anyone would make you feel anything other than lovely. If it were up to me, I'd have the Universe send a hippo to sit on Dick Cheney's chest for time immemorial (except even hippos have standards, I suppose) while all my Bitches who need fixes of some sort could get the care they deserve.

Speaking of fixes...

But, if it is fibroids, what can they do about it other than surgery?

There are different types of surgery, from laparoscopic laser surgeries designed to shrink the fibroids or remove them, one by one, to of course, the full removal of the plumbing-- it's all dependent on where the fibroids are and how many. I will say, I'm annoyed by the GYN who acted as if it was no big shit, thus putting off any potential surgery for me for nearly three years, but by the same token, I have HUGE love for the GYN (in the same practice, mind you) who took a look at the ultrasound, ordered blood work, based on what I'd told him of my history, and scheduled my surgery Right Then.

I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say it could've been really, really fucking bad if I'd gone even another six months without the surgery.

My previous reminded me of that lady in "When The Levees Broke," who said about Barbara Bush "Tell her to call me and say that to my face!I've got my cell back on now." It would be super-ironic if that guy in Virginia came back there walking funny, but if my Mom saw him not even his narrow-minded God could save him. (My mom grew up in the whitepeople 'hood...when other girls got makeup tips, I got tips like "You know you can almost push somebody's nose up into his brain, right?"

But, if it is fibroids, what can they do about it other than surgery?

Generally, the first thing they do is put you on birth control. You may want to revisit the birth control idea, there are several different kinds on the market with different active ingredients, so there may now be one that's appropriate for you.

If the pill isn't an option, there is outpatient surgery that has been effective. I had it, and it worked for a while, but my fibroids came back, and then I had the full myomectomy surgery, and it's been good for the last 8 or 9 years.

There is also a surgery where they insert tiny particles to block the flow of blood to the fibroids. This wasn't an option for me at the time becuase there isn't much data on it affecting fertility, so we went with the other option. Given the option now, I might try it, since it doesn't seem like I'm having kids any time soon, if ever.

Have a completely uneventful ER visit, Teppy!

Infarct you, Cheney!

I giggled for about five minutes over that.

Possibly the biggest suck of heart problems is that you start wondering if EVERYTHING is your heart betraying you, or thinking of betraying you, or just playing ding-dong-ditch.

I have that fear, and I don't even have any actual cardiovascular problems (that I know of... dundundun). I'm just paranoid about my heart, and I have been since I was a little kid. Anything that could be one of those vague heart-attack symptoms is likely to send me into a panic attack ... the symptoms of which mimic a heart attack. This is why I have Valium. Sometimes meditation just don't cut it.

Andi, I've never met you and still you're one of my favorite people. You're wise and funny and kind, and it breaks my heart that you feel that way about yourself.

It's critical for being a strong advocate for yourself.

Easier said than done. It's nearly impossible to be a strong advocate for yourself when you're so depressed/exhausted/in pain you can barely get out of bed, or cognitively impaired by disease or mental illness or sheer fatigue. (I know you know this. You should read the long-ass original post I culled this from. I'm ranting.)

It's a hard thing to get past, "I'll do X when I've achieved Y." Especially when Y is a hundred extra pounds huddled lovingly on your frame.

That's basically what I've been saying to myself for fifteen years. "I'll go out and meet people when I'm thin again." "I'll get a boyfriend when I'm thin again." "I'll go to public events with people at them when I'm thin again." "I'll wear pretty clothes when I'm thin again." I haven't been fat all my life (although I've always thought I was, god, if I'd only known) and comparing what I am now to what I was then just about kills me. Yes, I'm older, but we're not talking about a small weight gain, either. I'm going to the Leverage Con in Portland in a month, and instead of being excited, I find that I'm nearly throwing up at the thought of being seen by other humans while I'm so fat. I get to have my photo taken with all the main cast members, and instead of being giddy I'm terrified of how fat I'll look. I'm sharing a room with four other women whom I've never met (I hate this situation) and I'm praying that at least one of them is fat too, so I don't have to feel like the token fatty. I joined a gym last year, and I was going 2-3 times a week, meeting with a trainer, and my breathing got better, but the real reason I was going was to get thin again. I did it for four months, and do you know how much weight I lost? Nothing. I gave up. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I did. I stopped going. What was the damn point?