Under Pressure

So about four years ago my BP started creeping up.

My doctor decided I should take medication for it, prescribed some, and I didn't take it. I didn't really get much opportunity to discuss it with her, she left the medical practice and I got shuffled off to the next doctor.

My BP didn't go down. It didn't really go up, either.
Doesn't matter what the numbers were, they weren't great but they weren't scary either.

Going to visit the doctor always started with sitting in a waiting room full of sick people, sensory overload (blaring TVs with periodic announcements about how I need a fucking flu shot and I should quit smoking, neither of which affect me...Nickelodeon for Old People) and an argument with a series of skinny little girls about me getting on the scale.

I think they're interchangeable, those girls,  there's like a warehouse full of cloney little medical assistants with various pastel stethoscopes and cute little scrubs and they just... swap 'em out now and then. I never get the same one twice but they all look scarily alike to me. And they certainly behave the same way.

I'm sure the opening arguments don't help my BP reading.
But the last year or so, it started going up.
And up.

My she-was-new-once-but-now-she's-familiar doctor wanted me to take medication to control it.
I gave it some thought and allowed her to prescribe some for me.

It did not make the numbers lower.
It also made me feel crappy.

I won't give you the whole list, but my scalp itched.
The base of my spine itched.
I seemed to be prone to fungal infections, my feet and other places were driving me fucking insane. I used a lot of foot spray.

I think the worst thing was how it affected my breathing. I looked up side effects, people had complained of 'tightness' but that wasn't precisely it. Digging into my memories of 7th grade science, I decided that the alveoli, which are the tiny little sacs at the end of the bronchial tree, were now sparsely filled with ground glass.
I could breathe okay, but when I breathed deeply, I noticed the little sandstorm swirling around in my chest.

Also, I couldn't sing right.
There wasn't a froggy in my throat, but my voice was a little hoarse and I couldn't hold a note for long. My vocal range was smaller by about three notes in the higher range and possibly five or six in the lower.

It was sort of a pain in the ass if you wanted to know and even if you didn't want to know, well, you know now.

My voice is one of the only things I still have going for me. And while I don't often get it out and share it with the whole world, it's sort of fun to have it and know that (theoretically at least) I *could* share it.

A couple months ago during our weekly grocery expedition, I was telling Eric about my once a week commute to the office and the fact that I used that opportunity to sing karaoke. He made me sing for him. That was sort of fun.
 
I did okay, but I noticed my voice didn't feel right.

So I told her after the four weeks of 'try this and let's see' that I hated the medicine and why.

She was unruffled, changed the medication.

Am I the only one who gets pissed off that you can't get your money back for a prescription that doesn't work? You can get a lamp that doesn't work and take the damn thing back. Or a shirt that doesn't fit. Shoes. Televisions. Whatever.

But a medication that doesn't work or causes horrendous side effects?

Caveat emptor.

Assholes.



The next medication may have improved the side effects the tiniest bit.
Not enough that I'd call it better.

So we tried a third one.

Now I had all the same effects as the other two medications with the added bonus of crazy spikes in BP readings. Not only was it up, it was WAY up. And down and up and down, but never in a normal range.

Also, I started feeling crappy. Tired and weak and not like myself at all.

I went back in and my doctor thought maybe we should increase the dosage.

Silly me. I trusted her.

I felt worse. You'd think I'd have figured out it was the medication, but I just thought I was a little under the weather.

This past weekend I felt really shitty. So I checked my BP about every three hours. Kids, it was fuckin' crazy. A roller coaster. I stood up from my chair in the living room, made it to the kitchen and felt so weak and dizzy I had to sit down for a couple minutes.

So I called the doctor's office on Monday morning.
I told the perky phone person that I was feeling awful, that it was the medication. I told her that I knew a person should not just stop taking the medication, but that I wanted to stop taking this drug NOW.

I told her what some of my BP readings had been and she told me that I shouldn't take my BP so often!

I'm not sure she was aware of the patronizing tone in her voice, but she said, "Your blood pressure fluctuates during the day with different activities, so you should not take it more than every few days."

Um, okay. So we're messing with dosages and something that could kill me and we're going to quibble over frequency of measuring? Dafuq?

She assured me that someone would call me back by the end of the day.

No one did.

Tuesday morning I did a little reading online to try and figure out on my own how to stop the crazy stuff.

I cut the dose in half and took it three hours later than usual. I sent an email to the practice asking for help again. I let them know I found it alarming that a medication that was supposed to help was making things worse.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I stated clearly that I no longer wish to take this medication.

 

I was HOPING someone might have a few minutes to call me back and explain what steps I should take next in order to stop taking a medication that is obviously harmful to me and making me feel unwell.

 

What I got instead was, "It's not a good idea to take your blood pressure a lot. Your blood pressure fluctuates all day."

I felt dismissed and patronized.

 

Am I the only person who can look at the history of BP readings and see that, although my blood pressure was elevated, it was NEVER like this until we started medications?

This has not made me feel confident about my care.

Wednesday, no one called.
I could have called THEM, but why the fuck bother?
I did the half dose again, an hour later than the dose I'd taken on Tuesday.

I was more than a little pissed off that no one had called, though.

So they got this:

Still waiting for someone to call me back after 48 hours.

What the hell?

 

Man, good thing it's not important.

Or at least not to anyone but me.

 

Is this a new level of care?
Just ignore people until they go away?

Asking for a friend.
The clinic called at 8 this morning while I was still sleeping.
I got one eye open enough to see who was calling, hit the ignore button and sent it to voice mail.

It was my doctor. Included in the message were instructions on how to taper off and then stop taking the current medication.
And the news that she'd be sending a new prescription to the pharmacy I use.

Didn't need the instructions since I took care of it.
I won't need whatever they're going to have for me at the pharmacy, either.
I looked it up.
Nifedipine. You can look it up if you want to.

I don't want to die from high blood pressure but I won't take any more medications for it.

I wondered aloud last time I was in about the heartburn medication that was prescribed to me about five years ago after I lost my voice for four weeks and it turned out to be burned vocal cords from reflux.

"I wonder if that's what's causing this?"

She responded to my concern about the omeprazole by telling me I probably should do a sleep study. I've brought up the heartburn medication before, but she didn't seem to think it mattered.

We're about to find out if it matters, because I've stopped taking that, too.
Even if I have to sleep sitting up until I get used to being without it.

I had asked the wrong question of Dr. Google when I first started taking it, 'omprazole side effects'.

Turns out I should have asked 'connection between omeprazole and high blood pressure'.

Holy crap.

Did you know that some studies have said you have a 40% higher risk of having a stroke if you're taking omeprazole over the long term?
Well, you know it now.
And so do I.

So if you're still with me (and if you're not I totally understand, other people's medical stuff is pretty boring and most of you don't even know me, so double boring) here's where I am.

No more heartburn medication.
Skip tomorrow's half dose of BP medication, take a half dose on Saturday, skip Sunday, half dose on Monday then done with that shit, too.

I hope I don't die from any of that.
I expressed that opinion on Monday when I talked to the clinic but even the fact that I was seriously concerned about my safety wasn't enough to get a call back from them.

I can see why so many older people (odd to consider myself an 'older people' but I will be 60 this year) are labeled as grumpy and unwilling to take care of themselves when what's really going on is the people charged with their care don't actually care all that much.