Thanks both of you, and Kat, yes it does, dunnit?

I cannot reinforce enough how willing I was to leave this earth if the meds could not be solved, and according to the docs I had available to me at the time, they were doing their best to solve that to no avail. They gave me more and more of what made me sick, and I got sicker and sicker, and the BP never did really come down anyway. Duh, wrong meds!!!!!

I'm not even on really high doeses of the 3 things I take now! And yes, they were available at the time, and my research promised they'd probably have the same side effects, and the docs didn't care to try them or have the brains to add one really cool med the new doc added from a different class altogether..... but the ultimately cool thing was that the new doc believed in me and trusted my self-assessments-- and didn't toss me in the hospital instead of letting me run my ass off in the pool.

One stroke (probably one of the bigger ones) happened in and at the pool, in fact, and when I told the doc about the event at the time, he just grinned and said, "You know, we put most people in the hospital for that." I replied something to the effect that when I started foaming at the mouth, he could certainly trust me to admit myself one way or another. Of course the pool was 2 blocks from the local ER, the staff had notice of my condition, etc. etc., and a lifeguard friend was on duty the day it happened and sat with me as the BP spike dropped.... I was carrying my meter all the time then.

But by the time I met that new doc, I had sworn NOTHING was going to interrupt a good healthy activity level, period. PERIOD! That simple! To become my doc he had to sign onto that as the main indicator guiding EVERYthing else. Headache from adjusting to BP pills, fine. Upset tummy, diarrhea, fine if it didn't keep me out of the pool. Leg muscles quit pumping, NOPE.

I mean, the stereotypes about hypertensives are so strong ("they will lie and cheat to get out of taking their meds") that I had to put my foot down that hard, and I was so sick at the time that I meant it. I know all about dying, and I ain't especially afraid of it.

Living is nice too and I'm happy to be here, but I would absolutely do it again if needful. (I'd also love to have the malpractice bucks I could probably get, but I'm too busy LIVING to take that fight on.)
I prefer to maintain a very short sh*t-list, and anyone who could have helped and didn't, is on it.

But-- the doc who most blew it with me? She herself has had to learn a few things about personal health.... karma is a bitch, innit? I forgave her.... She contracted an illness that mimics MS and had to learn to walk all over again. I outrun her. Now she makes a very fine gynie-doc and helps supply the meds the other doc found for me, from the sample stash her practice allows her to stockpile.

The new doc is leaving the area next week. I'm keeping him though-- having also found a free overnight stop halfway there. These things have a way of working out sometimes.

~Susan