Breath Taking

   The word breathtaking usually means something amazing, wonderful, terrific. In this context however, breath taking means it felt as if my breath was sucked right out of me. I went to the new rheumatologist a few days ago. First off, we liked her instantly. She took the time to listen, really listen to me and my concerns. She also read at least 100 hundred pages of all the faxed reports from various doctors. She did a physical exam (the last rheumatologist in June glanced at my hands in lieu of a physical exam. ) She asked me multiple questions and seemed genuinely interested in me. And hey BONUS: she didn't roll her eyes one time at me.
   The presumed diagnosis is Behcet's Disease. Even though it was expected more or less, it still felt as if my heart skipped a beat. By presumed I mean that it is almost impossible to diagnose. It is a disease that is essentially diagnosed symptomatically. Looking at each symptom singularly they are almost meaningless. Putting them all together, they equal Behcet's, a rare (in America) disease. She started me on a medicine that is usually used on gout patients. Now, here comes the coolest part.
   Within one day (ONE!) my lesions were healed over in my mouth. By Day three, my lesions on my scalp were healing over. By today, Day five, I could not even find a scab on my scalp.
   There seems to be a tiny side effect. I have noticed bruising in my ankles, calves, and shins. I looked up the side effects and of course it said, call a doctor immediately if you notice unusual bruising. Okey dokey, I am a teensy bit concerned. They seem small, not big giant and scary bruises, but I will give the doc a quick call tomorrow. My fear? Take me off the miracle meds that are healing my lesions but making me sick. Wouldn't that just be my luck?
   All in all, I have to say I am so happy to have a diagnosis, we can work with that. I do believe having a diagnosis is better than the not knowing. Even if the answer is frightening, I feel vindicated. You know that funny tombstone saying "I told you I was sick!" ? That's how I feel. I've been telling doctors for the last 20 years that something was wrong and they wrote me off every time, even telling me I was depressed so I was sick. One doctor told me I was sick because I was "fat and didn't exercise."  So I lost weight, started exercising, and still I was sick.
   The good news is that psycho doctor got me to do that (diet/exercise) even though it hurt badly to hear someone be so cruel. That was 16 years and 140 lbs ago. Gee, I wish I could find her again so I could say "thank you!" and then punch her lights out. (sort of kidding)