Not Over Till The Fat Lady Sings

Woke up this morning with a feeling of utter hopelessness and fear. I have decided that I need to get “more irons in the fire.” Lately I find myself experiencing fear. I am very very afraid that I will be undiagnosed for the remainder of my life. I am also very afraid that what ever is causing these symptoms will also cause permanent damage to my body.

I pulled my thoughts together at 2:30 AM this morning, which is a very difficult task at the best of times and emailed the National Institute of Health. I sent them a short history and my symptom list.

Imagine my surprise when I had a reply back by 8:15 AM my time. The note I got from the National Institutes of Health reads as follows: “Thank you for your inquiry. Your recent email message has reached the Patient Recruitment and Public Liaison Office of the National Institutes of Health Clinical Centre in Bethesda, M.D. Our office provides information about how to become a participant in the research studies conducted at the NIH Clinical Center in Bethesda, M.D. As it was suggested that you may have a form of Cushing’s (their words not mine!) we are forwarding this email to the investigators for that condition. Someone from their team will be in touch with you.”

It took me all morning to get over the shock of actually getting an email from them. You see by now I am a full-fledged pessimist.

At 12:35 PM today, I received an email from a nurse practitioner at NIH. This was almost too much good news in one day! The email reads as follows, “Hello, I am a nurse practitioner who works with several endocrine physicians at the National Institute of Health and we have received your inquiry from the patient recruitment office. In order to determine if you are eligible for an evaluation at NIH, please arrange to have a copy of the films of the adrenal CT scan as well as copies of lab results for the ACTH level and urine cortisol results sent to the address below. If you have a summary letter from the endocrinologist involved in your medical care, please forward that as well. We look forward to hearing from you.”

I will call the hospital today and have them forward my CT scans. I have grave concerns about sending copies of the summary letters from Blonde Bimbo, Leprechaun and Supercilious. As far as these three so called top endocrinologists are concerned there is nothing wrong but a little depression and a lot of fat. Oh yes, I forgot that they are also including menopause in the mix.

After much thought and delibertion I finally decided what I must do about Supercilious’s summary letter. The summary letter was a complete farce and I have decided to funnel my rage and frustation into a rebuttal letter. I sent this rebuttal letter to the referring physicians. I have also decided to start an email and fax campaign in defence of my illness. I realize that this will more than likely be a one-sided campaign. However, from now on my voice will be heard! From now on I will also make sure that the notes taken about me by doctors or residents during a consultation will be accurate and not a figment of their imaginations.

The letter I wrote reads as follows:

After receiving a copy of the letter Supercilious sent to you, I have a number of questions and comments. On my first visit to Supercilious, I was ushered into a consultation room and seen by a resident. I handed the resident my symptom list and my pictures for comparison. The resident asked numerous questions which I answered to the best of my ability. My blood pressure and heart rate were taken. No other physical examination was done. The resident left the consultation room. About 30 minutes later I was finally honoured with the presence of the so-called great Supercilious. He asked a few more questions, ordered a series of blood work and urine samples and told me I was free to go home. No explanations, no discussion of my symptom list or my pictures – nothing!!!

I received a call from his nurse a few days later telling me to come in on June 21st for a Water Deprivation Test. Of course, no one bothered to ask me if I was on diuretics. Could it be that Supercilious is not aware of the fact that a person must be off their diuretic for at least a week before the Water Deprivation test? As a result I was on diuretics when I took the test.

I had a follow-up appointment with Supercilious on August 15th. Quite frankly, that visit was a total waste of time and effort on my part. Again I was shown into a consultation room and seen by a resident. This resident took 4 pages of notes. He actually had to leave the room to get more paper. He checked my leg muscles and asked me when I had lost the hollows in my neck. After the resident left the consultation room I again waited for 30 minutes until I finally saw the great Supercilious. Supercilious sat down, told me my Water Deprivation Test was normal and that I need not bother coming to see him again. He never bothered to give me one answer as to why I have the symptoms I have.

I asked Supercilious for the copies of my Water Deprivation lab results. The first blood sample of the water deprivation test was taken at 8:15 AM on June 21st. My sodium levels were 142, my potassium was low at 3.1. The lab has flagged it. The lab inserted this note with the tests done at 9:40 AM, 10:15 AM, and 11:15 AM: SAMPLE GROSSLY HEMOLYSED. SODIUM AND CHLORIDE RESULTS MAY BE DECREASED, POTASSIUM RESULT WILL BE INCREASED.

Apparently at 8:15 AM the morning of the Water Deprivation Test a blood sample was drawn to test my Arginine Vasopressin. On the lab report it says that Quest Diagnostics, San Juan Capistrano, California, performed this test. My Arginine Vasopressin result was <1.0 (less than 1.0) with their lab normal being 1.0 to 13.3.

After reading a copy of Supercilious’s letter to you, I am wondering if he and his staff are suffering from a hearing impairment or lack of comprehension? Supercilious writes that I am a 53-year-old woman whose chief complaint is frequent thirst and urination. Quite frankly, the thirst and urination was one of my lesser complaints. I am much more concerned about the symptoms that actually interfere with my quality of life!! He states that I have no history of head injury, headache or visual symptoms. Obviously no one listened when I described these symptoms. I described two whiplash injuries, a head injury that happened when I passed out in the bathroom at my parents home during a severe migraine and fell into the bathtub. While falling into the bathtub I hit my head on the bathroom tiles so hard that the tiles cracked. I have been complaining of visual symptoms for two years! I also have suffered horrendous migraine headaches in the past.

Supercilious claims that I described frequent episodes of palpitations, chest tightness and agitation. This is not true. I was asked what kind of symptoms I had had with Graves Disease. I described the palpitations, chest tightness and agitation. I told the residents that I no longer suffered from these symptoms. I described getting what I can only call adrenaline rushes in my stomach during the day and at night when they literally jolt me awake.

Supercilious states that my other complaints include weight gain of 55 pounds over the last year. Again, no one bothered to get it right. I gained 55 pounds between July 2nd, 2000 and August 30th, 2000. I have pictures to prove it! Supercilious claims that my fat distribution is generalized and that I have no increase in dorsocervical fat or supraclavicular fat pads. I guess Supercilious also suffers from a vision defect. That is one of my most obvious symptoms. I guess he never bothered to look at the pictures I gave to him. Supercilious claims my visual fields were intact. Strange that he knows this since he did not do an eye exam. He claims that I had no extra heart sounds or murmurs. Again, this is very strange since no one bothered to check my heart. I was diagnosed with a heart murmur in ——–. Supercilious claims there were no masses upon palpations of my abdomen. I have no idea when my abdomen was suppose to have been palpated. Supercilious claims I have no peripheral edema and my reflexes were normal. No one bothered to check my reflexes. Supercilious himself asked me if my hands were always puffy like they were the day he saw me!!!

Supercilious states that he would not have ordered a CT of the Adrenal glands due to the frequency of subtle abnormalities in the general population, which have been confirmed by the review by radiologists in California. Interestingly enough, when radiologists in California reviewed my CT Scans of the Adrenal glands they had a very different report than the radiologists at ———. Supercilious states that he would not have ordered a CT Scan of the Sella and that the appearance of mine was normal with no mass lesion noted. It does not take a genius to know that CT Scans are very unreliable when it comes to scans of the pituitary gland.

The impression the letter from Supercilious portrayed is that I am a 53-year-old woman who is fat, depressed, and a hypochondriac with panic issues. We mere mortals can actually read between the lines. Trust me the man does not know of what he speaks.

Obviously no ——- endocrinologist is interested in my symptoms. No one is concerned about my high cholesterol, low potassium, high sodium, high ESR, high C Reactive Protein, and high BUN. They are not interested in my fatigue, in the lumps on my Achilles tendons, the pain in my Achilles tendons, the extreme muscle weakness, and the list goes on.

When I sent a series of pictures of myself beginning in 1997 to the present day along with my list of symptoms to an American endocrinologist I got quite a different perspective on things. The American endocrinologist I have been corresponding with insists that I see someone here in ——- who is capable and actually knows something about the endocrine system in a 53-year-old woman’s body. Since I have now seen three endocrinologists in the city and not one of them has tried to get to the bottom of my symptoms I feel it is necessary for me to go to the Mayo clinic.

I would like to know if it would be possible for you to refer me to the Mayo Clinic? I need to be referred by a ——- doctor. Since I am a ——- citizen and a taxpayer, I feel that ——- Health should definitely pick up the tab for my medical care at the Mayo Clinic. I realize that the endocrinologists would just love for me to accept their lack of concern and disappear. However, I need to have my medical problems resolved before I become to ill to fight for my right to proper medical care.

Thank you,

Sincerely

Today I finally got to read the summary letter that Supercilious, another one of the greats from the medical professionals, had written about me.

I had made the appointment to see No Name. Remember No Name is the doctor I see when I am not feeling well enough to drive the 100 km. to see Squirt.  I did not have to wait long before I was ushered into his presence. No Name gave me a synopsis of that most valuable document, my summary letter. He actually summed it up in seven words – Supercilious wrote, “There is nothing wrong with this woman!”

I recovered quickly as I always do after hearing ludicrous statements. Then to my amusement No Name asked me if I would consider taking a verbal panic test because he felt I might have some panic issues. It took me a few seconds to collect my wits while I hung onto the chair to keep from rolling on the floor laughing my head off. I humbly agreed and answered all his questions. When the test was over he was very perplexed. He said that fatigue was my only panic disorder symptom. I asked in a very neutral voice whether the fact that I was so fatigued might be because of my sleepless nights. No Name agreed that could be so. No Name then asked me if I would consider taking a prescription for some sleeping pills. I looked at him for a while and said, “All right I will take the prescription.” He then hauled a sample box of Paxil out of his drawer and asked if I would take those as well. No Name informed me that Paxil was a fabulous drug for people with a panic disorder. Suddenly, within a five-minute time span my problem had gone from being a panic issue to being a panic disorder. Remember I had just been told that fatigue was my only panic disorder symptom. I said I would take the box of Paxil. He began writing in my chart. Suddenly he stopped writing, turned in his chair and looked at me with this beatific smile on his face. He said, “Widebertha, I am so happy that you have finally consented to take these pills!” I looked No Name right in the eye and said, “Now don’t you get too excited or get your knickers in a twist because I never said I would actually swallow them.” The joy that was so visible on No Name’s face when he thought he had finally convinced me to sedate myself quickly vanished. I guess this is the recommended treatment for 53-year old women these days. Sedate them enough and they will only bother the doctor when they need refills for their sleeping pills and tranquilizers. The doctor still makes the money on the appointments for medication refills but does not have to worry about making a diagnosis.

As I got up to leave I asked No Name for a copy of the summary letter that Supercilious, the endocrinologist, had sent to him. I left the office clutching my photocopy of that very important letter.

Oh my, oh my, oh my! What a shock to my system when I read that summary letter from Supercilious. I cannot bear to write about it today. The letter is such a farce that I must think long and hard about how I will handle this.

When I returned home, I had an email waiting from the Hormone doctor. I had emailed the Hormone doctor and asked him about my low vasopressin level.

The Hormone doctor wrote, “The Urine osmolality being high at the beginning of the test would argue that you do not have Diabetes Insipidus, with the caveat that diuretics can raise the osmality and may mask the Diabetes Insipidus. The low Vasopressin agrues that you have it. If possible you should repeat the test off the diuretic, but I understand that you cannot be off it without feeling miserable.”

He went on to say that I should be taking a potassium supplement. I agree with him. However, when I mentioned this to Squirt and No Name they both had the same reaction. They both shrugged their shoulders!

If things were different, I would ditch these yahoos I have been seeing and be on the next plane to California!

 Women Beware!!

 Most of you have read the scare-mail about the person whose kidneys were stolen while he was passed out. Well read on. While that was an “urban legend”, this one is not. It’s happening everyday.

My thighs were stolen from me during the night of August 3rd a few years ago. It was just that quick. I went to sleep in my body and woke up with someone else’s thighs. The new ones had the texture of cooked oatmeal. Who would have done such a cruel thing to legs that had been wholly, if imperfectly, mine for years? Whose thighs were these? What happened to mine?

I spent the entire summer looking for them. I searched in vain at pools and beaches, anywhere I might find female limbs exposed. I became obsessed. I had nightmares filled with cellulite and flesh that turned to bumps in the night.

Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living out my life in jeans and Sheer Energy pantyhose. Then, just when my guard was down, the thieves struck again.

My buns were next. I knew it was the same gang because they took pains to match my new derriere (although badly attached at least three inches lower than the original) to the thighs they had stuck me with earlier. Now my rear complimented my legs, lump for lump. Frantic, I prayed that long skirts would stay in fashion.

It was 2 years ago when I realized my arms had been switched. One morning while fixing my hair, I watched, horrified but fascinated, as the flesh of my upper arms swung to and fro with the motion of the hairbrush. This was really getting scary. My body was being replaced, cleverly and fiendishly, one section at a time.

Age? Age had nothing to do with it. Age was supposed to creep up, unnoticed and intangible, something like maturity. NO! I was being attacked, repeatedly and without warning.

During one spring, my attention was riveted to upper arms… female arms. I studied them from every angle, being careful not to raise mine in public or flatten them too tightly against my body. In private, I held them straight out and did endless circles that would have tightened my real arms but did nothing for these new “Silly-Putty” caricatures

In the end, in deepening despair, I gave up my T-shirts. What could they do to me next? My eyes began to remind people that they needed a new pair of Hush Puppies. My poor neck disappeared more quickly than the Thanksgiving turkey it now reminded me of. That’s why I’ve decided to tell my story; I can’t take on the medical profession by myself.

Women of America wake up and smell the coffee! That isn’t really “plastic” those surgeons are using. You know where they’re getting those replacement parts, don’t you?

The next time you suspect someone has had a face “lifted,” look again! Was it lifted from you? Check out those tummy tucks and buttocks raising. Look familiar? Are those your eyelids on that movie star?

I think I finally may have found my thighs…. and I hope Cindy Crawford paid a really good price for them!

~~Author Unknown~~

I finally decided to make an appointment at my home hospital audiology clinic to have my hearing tested. After suffering from diminished hearing, periods of almost total hearing loss, dizziness, nausea and tinnitus since December 1999 I figured maybe, just maybe, I would be able to get some sort of official diagnosis. The appointment was today. I actually got a verdict! According to the audiologist I have significant hearing loss. She also stated, “that in view of the finding of a unilateral high frequency hearing loss in conjunction with episodes of dizziness, nausea, increased tinnitus and fluctuating hearing sensitivity, evaluation by an ENT is required.”

So now I have validation of one of my symptoms. This fills me with great joy! I pondered that for a time – how can learning that I have significant hearing loss actually fill me with joy? Then I realized that the reason I am joyful is because one of my symptoms has finally been validated!

 Endocrinologists Take the Plunge

Declaring diabetes mellitus non-existent, managed care companies nation-wide have managed to wipe out diabetes throughout the United States, It was announced today.

It was explained that any patient insisting that they have diabetes will be re-diagnosed as having paranoia, and hence will be ineligible for medical care, as mental health benefits are essentially nonexistent in most managed care plans.

The insurance industry also announced that their pre-existing policy of refusing to reimburse for syringes or blood glucose test strips, and discouraging patients’ Primary Care Physicians from referring to endocrinologists, has been “totally vindicated.”

An estimated three hundred endocrinologists were seen lining up to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco; there were unheard-of upsurges in bookings for flights to San Francisco noted by airlines nationally.

The San Francisco Tourism Agency announced that it encourages all endocrinologists to spend their final vacation in their city, before taking the plunge.

According to an anonymous spokesman for a major managed care company, it is expected that curing diabetes, and terminating contracts with deceased endocrinologists, will allow approximately 57 more insurance company executives to claim 6-figure bonuses at the end of the current Fiscal Year, while only resulting in an additional 15 minutes loss of sleep per night for the average Primary Care Physician, and only an estimated 2,000,000 covered lives to become uncovered deaths.
You may feel free to forward or reproduce this satire, provided you include the following copyright notice: Copyright © 1997 by the Midwest Diabetes Care Center, Inc.

Today I met Supercilious for the first time. I have no idea what to make of this appointment. I can tell you that he is tall, arrogant and absolutely no sense of humor.

STRANGE OLD LADY

A very weird thing has happened. A strange old lady has moved into my house. I have no idea who she is, where she came from, or how she got in. I certainly didn’t invite her. All I know is that one day she wasn’t there, and the next day she was.

She’s very clever. She manages to keep out of sight for the most part, but whenever I pass a mirror, I catch a glimpse of her there, and when I look into a mirror directly to check my appearance, suddenly she’s hogging the whole thing, completely obliterating my gorgeous face and body.

It’s very disconcerting. I’ve tried screaming at her to leave but she just screams back, grimacing horribly. She’s really rather frightening. If she’s going to hang around, the least she could do is offer to pay rent. But no!!! Every once in a while I do find a couple of dollar bills on the kitchen counter, or some loose change on my bureau or on the floor, but that certainly isn’t enough! In fact, though I don’t like to jump to conclusions…. I think she steals money from me regularly. I go to the ATM and withdraw a hundred dollars, and a few days later, it’s gone! I certainly don’t go through it fast! So I can only conclude that the old lady pilfers it. You’d think she’d spend some of it on wrinkle cream. God knows, she needs it!

And the money isn’t the only thing she’s taking. Food seems to disappear at an alarming rate. Especially the good stuff – ice cream, cookies, candy. I just can’t keep them in the house. She really has a sweet tooth. She should watch it too, she’s really putting on the pounds. I think she realizes that, and to make herself feel better, I know she is tampering with my scale so I’ll think that I’m gaining weight too. For an old lady, she’s really quite childish. She also gets into my closets when I’m not home and alters all my clothes. They’re getting tighter every day.

Another thing I wish she’d stop messing with my files and the papers on my desk. I can’t find a thing any more. This is particularly hard to deal with because I’m extremely neat and organized. But she manages to jumble everything up so nothing is where it’s supposed to be. Furthermore, when I program my VCR to tape something important, she fiddles with it after I leave the room so it records the wrong channel or shuts off completely. She finds innumerable, imaginative ways to irritate me. She gets to my newspapers, magazines and mail before me and blurs all the print. Then she’s done something sinister with the volume controls on my TV, radio, and phone. Now all I hear are mumbles and whispers.

She’s also made my stairs steeper, my vacuum cleaner heavier, all my knobs and faucets hard to turn, and my bed higher and a real challenge to climb into and out of. Furthermore, she gets to my groceries as soon as I shelve them and applies super glue to the tops of every jar and bottle so they’re just about impossible to open. Is this any way to repay my hospitality?

I don’t even get any respite at night. More than once her snoring has awakened me. I don’t know why she can’t do something about that. It’s very unattractive. As if all this isn’t bad enough, she is no longer confining her malevolence to the house. She’s now found a way to sneak into my car with me and follow me wherever I go. I see her reflection in store windows as I pass, and she’s taken all the fun out of clothes shopping because her penchant for monopolizing mirrors has extended to dressing rooms. When I try something on, she dons an identical outfit. Which looks ridiculous on her and then stands directly in front of me so I can’t see how great it looks on me.

I thought she couldn’t get any meaner than that, but yesterday she proved me wrong. She had the nerve to come with me when I went to have some passport pictures taken, and she actually stepped in front of the camera just as the shutter clicked. Disaster! I have never seen such a terrible picture. How can I go abroad now? No customs official is ever going to believe that crone scowling from my passport is me.

She’s walking on very thin ice. If she keeps this up, I swear, I’ll put her in a home. On second thought, I shouldn’t be too hasty. First, I think I’ll check with the IRS and see if I can claim her as a dependent.

Written By:
Rose Mula

My follow up appointment with the Gypsy was on April 25th. She told me that she had written to No Name and asked him to refer me to Supercilious at the city hospital. Gypsy claimed that Supercilious was a nice man who would take my symptoms very seriously. We will see if she is a good judge of character.

Gypsy wrote the following summary letter to No Name after my April 25th visit. She started the letter off with, “In view of Widebertha’s phlebitis, I would actually shy away from Evista or hormone replacement therapy. I’ve reviewed all the results and some of the answers may come when Widebertha has her CT Scan of her brain on May 23. I can’t come up a unifying diagnosis that accounts for all of her symptoms. She again focuses on her polydipsia and I think that there is a possibility that this could be a psychogenic polydipsia.” (Interesting how the medical professionals always insist I focus on only one symptom – in this case it being polydipsia. I am no more concerned about polydipsia than I am about all my symptoms. Try explaining this to the doctors. The equal concern for all my symptoms is a concept they just cannot grasp. Writing that I am focused on one symptom alone is twisting the truth just enough to make me sound suspicious.)

She then went on to write, “However, it could be that we find something on the CT Scan of her head. If she has a true fluid deprivation test and has repeat electrolytes done then quite likely her sodium will start to climb if she truly does have DI. I have told Widebertha that I cannot come up with a diagnosis for her but I do think that it is worthwhile sending her on to another endocrinologist. I have suggested to her that she see Supercilious at the city hospital. He not only has an Endocrine Clinic, he also has a general internal medicine Clinic and he should be fairly easy to get her in to. I think that Widebertha thinks she has Cushing’s disease but with her normal screening cortisols being within normal limits, I cannot at this point advocate any further testing based on what we have done so far.”

Gypsy thinks I think I have Cushing’s disease! How do you like that? Imagine, she actually believes that I sit here with bated breath waiting for a Cushings diagnosis! If MDs are so clever, how is it that they do not realize that all I want is to have my healthy body back! Just goes to show you how important it is to get copies of your medical files. It is the only way I know of to find out exactly what your doctor thinks of you and how he plans to progress with your treatment.

I get the feeling that Squirt, No Name and Gypsy have decided that they will prove I am fat, depressed and menopausal no matter what the cost! All I want is for someone, somewhere to pay attention to and successfully treat my symptoms. Really is that too much to ask?

Our mechanics take better care of our cars than some doctors take care of our bodies. Trust me a mechanic’s salary is not in the same income bracket as an MD’s. However if a mechanic screwed up a repair on our cars the way I believe that MD’s often screw up our diagnosis they would be in serious trouble. We would rant and rave and report the mechanics to the Better Business Bureau. We would tell our friends and acquaintances to stay clear of them. Mechanics do not have the luxury of burying their mistakes. Doctors on the other hand, are accountable to no one. Oh sure they have their “old boy’s club”, namely the College of Physicians and Surgeons, an organization that is made up of their fellow MD’s.

I have also been told that doctors are required to take an oath part of which reads, “Above all else do no harm.” I am living proof of the harm done when MD’s do not take the time and make an effort.

Two weeks ago Wednesday I developed a horrible pain in my left leg. The pain radiated up to the knee and down to the ankle. By Wednesday evening my knee and lower leg were swelling. Since there was no improvement over night and the swelling was much worse the next morning, I made an appointment to see No Name later Thursday afternoon. No Name looked at my leg, poked it several times and informed me that I had a blood clot. He gave me a prescription for Warfarin and told me to start taking the pills as soon as possible. I spent the weekend resting the leg.

A week later, on Thursday, I called Squirt’s office to get a repeat for a prescription. I told his secretary that I could not drive into the city to pick up the prescription because of the problem with the blood clot in my leg. I told her the doctor at my home clinic had told me to stay off my feet as much as possible but also to sit as little as possible! Squirt called me right back and wanted to know how I knew I had a blood clot. I told Squirt that No Name had looked at my leg, poked it a few times and given me his verdict. Squirt had a fit! He told me that he would call my home hospital and make arrangements for me to have a venogram first thing on Friday morning. According to Squirt, no doctor worth his salt would ever prescribe Warfarin before an ultra sound was done to determine if there really was a blood clot.

So Friday morning I hobbled off to my home hospital for the venogram. I was put on an appropriate table and the radiologist put an IV into a vein at the top of my foot. This was for the dye they injected. I lay on this table while they tilted it up and down and took pictures of my leg. The radiologist told me that he would look at the pictures and have an answer for Squirt by lunchtime.

The radiologist was a piece of work. He was pleasant enough to me but his treatment of the nurses was shocking. He was rude, loud and gave orders to the nurses in a very nasty way. He kept implying that the nurses were stupid!

I decided that once he was done with the procedure I would say something. As soon as he had pulled the IV out of my foot, I said to the nurses, “Wow, Mr. Personality he is not! You should all get a medal for putting up with his rudeness!

Squirt called me at lunchtime to inform me that I did not have a blood clot in my leg. He told me to quit taking the Warfarin.

At 1:30 PM on Friday, I had a follow up appointment with No Name. He wanted to see how the blood clot was progressing. I told No Name about the venogram I had had that morning. I also told him that the venogram showed that I did not have a blood clot. No Name sat back in his chair for a moment and then told me that I must have had an inflammation of my leg. He told me that I should continue to take the Warfarin for at least six months.

I have chosen to believe the venogram and to believe that I did not have a blood clot. I have also chosen to stop taking Warfarin. Why in heaven’s name would I take a blood thinner if I do not need it?

This incident has reinforced my belief that many of these so-called professionals do not have a clue what they are doing. Imagine if I had not needed that refill and had not called Squirt. I would not have had the venogram and would still be taking Warfarin on a daily basis. The way I understand it, blood thinners are only to be taken when absolutely necessary.