Doctor Condescending and Nurse Presumptuous

I was peacefully drifting off to sleep one night when out of the blue (or in that case...black), my heart started pounding a hole through my chest.  It was like someone was sitting on my sternum and an invisible force was directly suffocating my heart from the inside at the same time.  Every breath seemed like it wasn't enough.  

If you are having severe pain, crushing, squeezing, or pressure in your chest that lasts more than a few minutes, or if the pain moves into your neck, left shoulder, arm, or jaw, go immediately to a hospital emergency department. Do not drive yourself. Call 911 for emergency transport.

But all through it, I was calm and calculating.  I summoned all the things I learned from medical-surgical nursing, and emergency nursing.  I looked at the clock:  12:20AM.  Tried to rest, do easy breathing, focused and located my the phone.  Crap.  The telephone wasn't on the nightstand and my cellphone was downstairs.  


Took my BP.  Crap, once again.  130/80 mmHg.  I'm usually 90/60mmHg.

12:30AM.  Still painful.  Really painful.  I had to alert my husband.


I was in the bedroom, the third level of the house, while my husband was in the tv room in the basement with the boxing documentary turned up loud.  I called out to him.  No reply, the voice of a referee boomed from downstairs.


Rest, rest.  Heck, I was resting when this happened.  12:35AM.  Not good.  I began to feel light headed and dizzy.  So gripping the hand rails, I wobbled to the basement.  Off to the hospital, my son, my husband and I went.

After four hours of ECGs, cardiac enzyme analysis, coagulation & electrolyte studies and vital signs monitoring, I was discharged with a diagnosis of "Anxiety Attack" and "Chest Pain Unspecified".  

I don't know how they came up with "Anxiety Attack" .  First, the doctor who made the assessment was a doctor of Internal Medicine.  Second, he did no psychological assessment to warrant such a diagnosis.   The only abnormal things they saw was my BP shot up to 140/90mmHg, my potassium was low and my calcium was high.  Anyway, he recommended I see my primary care physician and a cardiologist.

So I went to my PCP.  I did not  show them the ER discharge sheet at first.  I wanted to see how they would react to a three decade old woman with reported chest pains.

A nurse took my vitals and said, "You know, it could be an anxiety attack.  Are you under stress?"  No I'm not.  "Well, then maybe it was something from childhood.  Sometimes anxiety or panic come up without warning during adulthood."   I nodded politely.

What is this, some kind of go-to diagnosis??? 

I don't know if I'm right but I do not think that kind of response would be acceptable at the National Council Licensure Examination for Registered Nurses as Therapeutic Communication.  To be fair to her, her tone was not dismissive.  It was in fact, motherly.  But perhaps that would make it worse for other people.  (Are you trying to say my parents abused me?!?!)

Out goes the nurse, in comes the doctor.  It was even worse.  "What time did you eat and what time did your chest pain occur?", she asked.  7PM, I had cereal.  12:20PM, my chest was being crushed.  "AH!", she exclaimed with a self-satisfied smile, "You probably had reflux".  Then she pulled out her prescription pad, "20mg of Omeprazole for two weeks, and you'll fell better."

Are you kidding me??? I finished my light meal by 7:30PM.  FIVE HOURS later, I'm supposed to have experienced reflux?  You're telling me that after FIVE HOURS, there is still mashed, disintegrated SIMPLE CARBS in my stomach, refluxing to my esophagus???  It takes FIVE HOURS to digest CORN FLAKES?  REALLY?  REALLYYYY?  REEEEEEEALLLLYYYY?


If I didn't have a panic attack before, this doctor might give me one down the road.  I am so pulling out of this practice and find another health care provider.


I showed her the discharge sheet and lab work from the ER.  "Oh, I'm gonna have to send you to a cardi-o-logist."

God, I hope I won't be as presumptuous as all these people  when I get my nursing license...

Horny. But The Beloved Spouse Is Uncooperative

I don't care if you're mad at me!  Come back here and do meee!!!

Perhaps the most annoying thing about a marital spat is when one really wants to get laid, but the other one is so preoccupied with his or her righteous anger, that it's just not gonna happen.


I'm not even going to say it's the tears or the glaring or the banging of cabinets or the i'm-going-to-come-home-late-just-to-annoy-you thing that my husband does.  Nope.  It's the fact that... I.  AM.  NOT.  GETTING.  ANY.  I don't know if this is an aberration of female behavior, but amidst my irritation at my husband's childishness, I still want to do him.  

If men who are sexually frustrated get "blue balls", what do I have then???

I mean, geeze!  Our son is having a nap.  It's a lovely day.  I'm effing horny.  But nooo...he's maaaad at me, so he'd rather gaze at Dr. Oz right now.  All because a neighbor gave me a hug during our barbecue, when he was about to leave.  My body didn't even move away from my seat.  I just patted him with both arms.  Our freakin' torsos didn't even touch.  There was a table in front of me.  What the heck, dude, I mean, seriously, what the heckkk???  I swear, I really should just be a rude bitch and stop being friendly to anyone beyond the third degree of consanguinity.  

(I apologize if I'm getting uncivilly worked up.  Unfulfilled desire does that to me.)


It's so irritating cause I love my husband dearly, wholly, with all that I am.  And this?  THIS???  What does he think of me?  Some hoe???  Maybe if our neighbor was Robert Pattinson or George Clooney, then maybe, just maybe, he is entitled to feel a tad bit threatened.  But, sorry for saying this, our neighbor doesn't even come close to RPattz's toenail.

Robert Pattinson Tutorial On How To Do A Breast Self Exam (BSE).  The American Cancer Society recommends doing the BSE one week or more after your menstrual period.

Moving on...In Psychiatric Nursing, we were taught about defense mechanisms.  These are methods, usually unconsciously done, of managing anxiety.  It's such a simple topic because you don't have to be in the medical/health care field to know you've used at least 10 of the Ego defense mechanisms.  Let's see what I can utilize to treat female blue balls:

 DENIAL: failure to acknowledge an intolerable thought, feeling, experience, or reality.  Ex. Lindsay Lohan saying that she "doesn't have a problem".


DISPLACEMENT:  redirection of emotions or feelings to a subject that is more acceptable or less threatening.  Ex. Ahmadinejad kicking his dog when he's actually thinking of Obama.


PROJECTION:  Attributing to others one's unacceptable feelings, impulses, thoughts, or wishes.  Ex.  Sarah Palin saying democrats just dislike her.


UNDOING:  An attempt to erase an unacceptable act, thought, feeling or desire.
Ex.  Obsessive compulsive behaviors


COMPENSATION:  An attempt at excelling at something to overcome a real or imagined shortcoming
Ex. Tom Cruise being a great actor.


SYMBOLIZATION:  A less threatening object or idea is used to represent another
Ex. Dreams, phobias


SUBSTITUTION:  Replacing desired, impractical or unobtainable objects with one that is acceptable or attainable.
Ex. Jesse James dating Kat Von D.


INTROJECTION:  a form of identification in which there is a symbolic taking into oneself the characteristics of another.
Ex. Rihanna blaming herself for Chris Brown's behavior.


REPRESSION: unacceptable thoughts are subconsciously kept from awareness
Ex. Inability to remember a traumatic event.


REACTION FORMATION:  Expressing attitude directly opposite to unconscious wishes/fears
Ex.  Being excessively kind to a person who you'd rather murder.


REGRESSION:  Return to an earlier developmental phase in the face of stress
Ex. bed-wetting, baby-talk


DISSOCIATION:  Detachment of painful emotional experience from consciousness
Ex. sleep-walking, amnesia


SUPPRESSION:  Consciously putting a disturbing thought or incident out of awareness.
Ex. Me putting off confronting my husband.


SUBLIMATION:  Substituting constructive activity for strong impulses that are not acceptable.  A healthy way of coping.
Ex.  Starting a blog instead of bashing the next unsuspecting passerby into a bloody pulp because my husband isn't talking to me and I'm horny at the same time.