Medical reference

Last night I was at another UU SipNSup:  the monthly get-together of strangers, where each couple is assigned a dish, and one of the couples plays host.  This was my third.  The first is chronicled in an earlier blog (in which we try not to talk of pornography), the second was at T's apartment and I was co-host.

On this occasion, the host home was a lovely adobe with xeriscaping outside, waterfalls inside, tiles, fireplace, glass blown hanging lamps, open kitchen with a bar, and a view of the Sandias.  It was a stone's throw from the Embudo Canyon trailhead.  The host was of Norwegian descent, from International Falls (my mother's birthplace), so we talked about Minnesota and a Norse heritage for a bit.

One of the other guests sings soproano in the choir, so I knew her by sight.  Turns out she's a working musician, as are her four kids, and she is on the verge of her annual trip south, this time to Bogota, to teach violin for 2 weeks.  She's been doing this for 15 years, and has lived all around the world.

Two other guests were both doctors in private practise, and we had a rousing discussion of the potential effects of Obamacare.  The CPA husband of the gynecologist was fairly quiet for most of the everning, but, as I told T, there were 4 mouthy broads at table (that included me), and it was difficult for anyone to get a word in edgewise.

As per usual, I was impressed by the variety of life experience around the table, and fascinated by the paths people take.  And, also as per usual, I felt unaccomplished and unexperienced.  I want to tag along on their adventures.  I want to join Dr. T's daughter in Tanzania, working at an AIDs clinic for children.  It would be hard and depressing, but it would be worthwhile.  But I lack the practical skills that would make me an asset, and I lack the youth and strength for the grunt work.

So the wish is eager, rather than lasting.  And, I'm pretty sure that I need to avoid big change for the time being.  I really need to be satisfied with absorbing the body blows of the last few years, months, and days.  I need to enjoy quieter adventures.  As Mole discovered, I am a simple creature of the fields and hedgerows, which hold enough adventure, in their quiet way, for a lifetime.

Nothing makes that clearer than the way my body betrays me.  Last week it was the patella-bashing (still sore, especially on stairs, but doing nicely thank you.)  Last night it was a sudden onset of nausea, profuse sweating and dizziness.  I left the table and sat in the living room, but, threatened with increasing nausea, tottered into the bathroom where I lay on the cool tiles and felt simultaneously feeble and ridiculous.

T eventually came to the bathroom door:  "K-lou, are you okay?"  Umm, no.  He made my excuses and drove me home.  I crawled into bed and fell asleep, waking at 5:30 am.  I started googling my symptoms, even though I know I should use authoritative databases and, in my professional capacity, I speak sternly to peole who used DotCom medical sites.  But, it was early in the morning, I was groggy, and google was easy to use.

I found webMD and about.com and other reasonably authoritative sites, but I gravitated to the one wherein people detail their symptoms and other people share similar stories and they all say, "I've had this condition for YEARS and no one can find out what's wrong," and some people say it's gall bladder, and some diabetes, and some heart attack.  And you can still produce gallstones, even if you've had your gall bladder removed, and GO SEE A DOCTOR, and good luck.

hmmmm

Then I found Real Diagnosis, where you can list your symptoms and get matches with possible diagnoses.  So, I either have a heart condition, diabetes, meningitis, or syncope (which is a fancy word for fainting.)  I ruled out wine allergy.  The whole thing reminded me of Three Men in a Boat, where J reads a medical diagnostical  manual, discovers he is sickening for EVERYTHING (except Housemaid's Knee) and crawls over to his doctor friend who prescribes "beer, steak, and stop reading things you don't understand."

So, I posted the following to Facebook:
Researching symptoms
In the wee hours.  Tenebrous.
Not recommended.

And I went back to sleep.