My midwives, quite sensibly, want me to go see my PCP for asthma management.
This would be a better idea if I had seen my actual PCP in the past year. Instead, I get whatever doctor has a slot that day- if I'm really lucky, a resident! How is this better than the midwives?
Anyhow. We get to go back for Round 3 tomorrow, I think. ("What are they going to do?" asked my mom. "You're the medical professional; how should I know?" I said.)
Can't. Breathe. Waaaah.*
*Don't worry, I can breathe well enough that my O2 sats are probably around 95%, I just feel like I can't breathe. I can tell the difference, promise. Besides, if I go to urgent care, they're going to give me albuterol and send me home. I have albuterol here.
i'd imagine its superiority lies principally in the zone of CYA.
ReplyDeletei hate not being able to breathe. it's amazing how it doesn't do much for my ability to sleep, move, or think, either.
I wonder. They're actually part of the same HMO; it might just be 'policy'.
ReplyDeleteIn any event, I could have had the entire conversation without the sweet-young-thing resident's presence (she also suggested they wanted to rule out dilated cardiomyopathy! ZEBRAS!). Bleh. I mean, there are only three therapeutic options remaining and I won't do the third.