Posts by Kate Collins67

restlessangler said:What kind of tests are SE, C3, and C4?

They were supposed to do a biopsy, but since my rash cleared up, we didn't end up doing it.

Is CBC just general blood work?
I don't have my latest results on me—they're still sitting in the doctor's computer. And honestly, there's no point in uploading results from when I was actually sick anyway, since they'd all be skewed...

restlessangler said:Hey,
first off, thank you so much for getting back to me.

That’s actually why I did some digging—everything came back negative for Lupus. I don't know if you can see that picture under my face, but that's for the dsDNA. Later on, my dermatologist—well, she told me—said we're ruling out Lupus and that it's just seborrheic dermatitis.

Olivia Scott86 said:Hey everyone...
I just went in for my follow-up thyroid hormone check after getting that ablation therapy, and I finally got my results back. Could someone please help me make sense of this? 🙂 Basically, if you could just list out what the standard reference ranges are

Here’s the data:

FT4 21.54 pmol/L
FT3 5.92 pmol/L
TSH 0.023 mU/L
Tg mL
TgA 10.88 IU/mL

thanks 🙂

driftingmason52 said:I'm really stuck on this discrepancy between my FSH and LH levels—my FSH is at the bottom end of the range while my LH is sitting right at the top. Does that actually mean anything?

Thanks nalaziti

jadedriver0 says:


They ran tumor markers

hCG: result

vividsailor7 said:The EKG looks fine, and both creatine kinase and the MB isoenzyme came back normal.
She isn't pregnant, and everything else seems okay.
Did they perform a pH study during the gastroscopy?
How old is she?
They really ought to repeat the EGD.

vividsailor7 said:Why on earth would you bother doing a throat swab, a tetanus shot, or whatever else when everything has already been explained?
Now there’s some mention of a certain bacterium (Helicobacter pylori or whatever)
LOOK, UNFORTUNATELY, I DON'T HAVE A CRYSTAL BALL, I'M NOT STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO YOU, AND I CERTAINLY DON'T HAVE TELEPATHIC POWERS TO JUST KNOW YOUR MEDICAL HISTORY.
[/B]

Patrick Reyes15 said:Based on how you worded that response, I can tell you’re clearly an industry insider—mostly because you managed to conveniently sidestep the most critical issue of all: the actual duty of a physician toward their patient and the systemic failures within our healthcare system. It was quite a masterful omission, really. Honestly, if you ever decide to jump into politics, I fully expect you to have a very successful career.
Maybe your statistics aren't exactly hitting the mark—I’m thirty years old, after all, so perhaps my worldview is just too naive or idealistic—even though I firmly believe I'm being a realist here. Look, I have certain expectations from doctors and the medical staff we all fund through our taxes; I expect basic human decency and professionalism. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. But apparently, doctors have fought their way into this divine, untouchable status where they think they're above everyone else—as if the rest of us are just uneducated peasants who should bow down the moment they walk into the room. And honestly? We can't entirely blame them. It's the patients' fault too. People don't actually stand up for their rights; they just nod along, say, "Yes, doctor," and accept whatever subpar treatment they're given. If refusing to just roll over and accept that nonsense makes me a naive idealist, then fine—call me whatever you want.
Look, being a doctor or working in healthcare is incredibly demanding—exhausting, even—and I know you understand that better than anyone. But clearly, you’ve missed the point that this job requires heart; you have to be a human being first and foremost. Both doctors and nurses take an oath, yet it seems like half the people out there treat it like a suggestion rather than a commitment. Please, just get it through your heads: you aren't auto mechanics tinkering away in a garage. If you can't perform this job with the necessary care and decency, then just quit and find something else to do. Don't drag yourself through it, and for heaven's sake, don't torture your patients in the process. Nobody forced this career path on you—you knew exactly what you were getting into when you signed those papers.

And now, I suppose, I really ought to weigh in on your responses as well.
1. What you wrote there is just pathological. I’ll say it again—people aren't made of steel, and in my opinion, a doctor who remains completely indifferent toward a patient isn't functioning normally. And then you have the nerve to claim they don't even want to see them because they'll end up being lectured with nonsense?!?!? Unbelievable. I mean, surely a patient has the right to ask what's wrong, what the prognosis is, and so on. I agree that a doctor doesn't need to weep over every single patient—and yes, certain things simply have to be suppressed just so they don't lose their minds themselves—but as for treating patients with such an arrogant attitude? You aren't going to convince me of that.

2. Look, I agree that a hospital isn't a hotel and people shouldn't just show up whenever they feel like it, but as I mentioned before, I was at the hospital during visiting hours, and a nurse actually told me to go out to a pharmacy to buy some gel because they didn't have it in stock. It is frankly sick that they don't carry basic pain relief gel, and then to have some high-and-mighty, agitated nurse start picking on me while I'm already worked up... it's too much. In all that madness, I managed to pull myself together for a second and explain the situation to her, only for her to keep up the fight. And what was I supposed to do? Go home? Leave my dad in pain just because visiting hours ended five minutes ago? Give me a break... And if, God forbid, a security guard had kicked me out, I'm certain that nurse wouldn't have had a good time—she knows she had no right to be that condescending, especially since the other nurses knew I was already in the building. She knew it too, which is why she shut up.

If I'm unhappy with how someone is treating a patient, my first move will always be to approach that individual directly to smooth things over—I'd rather give them a chance to fix it before I start filing paperwork or taking it through official channels. Because, well, I consider myself a civilized person and I don't want to cause a scene immediately. But I won't let anyone take their frustrations out on me, let alone on sick parents.

And this idea that "it might become annoying" to deal with people—I honestly don't know how to respond to that. It's their damn job. I'll say it again: if they find it annoying, they can quit. I won't tolerate people dumping their moods onto patients, especially not the decent, easy-going ones. If mom had to get up, and if she had to use slippers that she couldn't reach because she wasn't allowed to bend over—and the nurse had shoved them under the bed—what was she supposed to do other than call a nurse to hand them to her? Instead, this arrogant creature comes along and takes it out on her just because she dared to call for help. It's a disaster.

4. That's a difficult one to comment on. Some people want to die in the hospital because they want that sense of false security provided by the doctors and nurses nearby. Others, however, just want to get away from the hospital as quickly as possible. Toward the end, Dad wanted to be home, but we were naturally worried about mom's heart and how she would handle everything. But somehow, her love for him and her desire to help him through those final, hardest moments kept her going, so neither of them left.

Patrick Reyes15 said:We can't just act like there isn't a human element behind the "system." The system isn't some imaginary, untouchable ghost in the machine—it's made up of those very doctors. And surely, as a highly skilled specialist and a respected physician, she actually has some influence over how things run. Maybe not total control, but if every doctor actually stepped up and took some responsibility, things might actually move forward. Even those empty-headed politicians would need to wake up once in a while. We can't just keep chanting "it's the system's fault, it's the system's fault" without actually doing anything to change it.
It’s just like that classic line: "the institutions should just do their jobs." Nobody knows anything, and everyone is always pointing the finger at someone else.

That person might be on their feet for 30 hours if they're picking up extra private shifts—which, honestly, they really shouldn't be doing.

Patrick Reyes15 said:Based on how you worded that response, I can tell you’re clearly an industry insider—mostly because you managed to conveniently sidestep the most critical issue of all: the actual duty of a physician toward their patient and the systemic failures within our healthcare system. It was quite a masterful omission, really. Honestly, if you ever decide to jump into politics, I fully expect you to have a very successful career.
Maybe your statistics aren't exactly hitting the mark—I’m thirty years old, after all, so perhaps my worldview is just too naive or idealistic—even though I firmly believe I'm being a realist here. Look, I have certain expectations from doctors and the medical staff we all fund through our taxes; I expect basic human decency and professionalism. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. But apparently, doctors have fought their way into this divine, untouchable status where they think they're above everyone else—as if the rest of us are just uneducated peasants who should bow down the moment they walk into the room. And honestly? We can't entirely blame them. It's the patients' fault too. People don't actually stand up for their rights; they just nod along, say, "Yes, doctor," and accept whatever subpar treatment they're given. If refusing to just roll over and accept that nonsense makes me a naive idealist, then fine—call me whatever you want.
Look, being a doctor or working in healthcare is incredibly demanding—exhausting, even—and I know you understand that better than anyone. But clearly, you’ve missed the point that this job requires heart; you have to be a human being first and foremost. Both doctors and nurses take an oath, yet it seems like half the people out there treat it like a suggestion rather than a commitment. Please, just get it through your heads: you aren't auto mechanics tinkering away in a garage. If you can't perform this job with the necessary care and decency, then just quit and find something else to do. Don't drag yourself through it, and for heaven's sake, don't torture your patients in the process. Nobody forced this career path on you—you knew exactly what you were getting into when you signed those papers.

And now, I suppose, I really ought to weigh in on your responses as well.
1. What you wrote there is just pathological. I’ll say it again—people aren't made of steel, and in my opinion, a doctor who remains completely indifferent toward a patient isn't functioning normally. And then you have the nerve to claim they don't even want to see them because they'll end up being lectured with nonsense?!?!? Unbelievable. I mean, surely a patient has the right to ask what's wrong, what the prognosis is, and so on. I agree that a doctor doesn't need to weep over every single patient—and yes, certain things simply have to be suppressed just so they don't lose their minds themselves—but as for treating patients with such an arrogant attitude? You aren't going to convince me of that.

2. Look, I agree that a hospital isn't a hotel and people shouldn't just show up whenever they feel like it, but as I mentioned before, I was at the hospital during visiting hours, and a nurse actually told me to go out to a pharmacy to buy some gel because they didn't have it in stock. It is frankly sick that they don't carry basic pain relief gel, and then to have some high-and-mighty, agitated nurse start picking on me while I'm already worked up... it's too much. In all that madness, I managed to pull myself together for a second and explain the situation to her, only for her to keep up the fight. And what was I supposed to do? Go home? Leave my dad in pain just because visiting hours ended five minutes ago? Give me a break... And if, God forbid, a security guard had kicked me out, I'm certain that nurse wouldn't have had a good time—she knows she had no right to be that condescending, especially since the other nurses knew I was already in the building. She knew it too, which is why she shut up.

If I'm unhappy with how someone is treating a patient, my first move will always be to approach that individual directly to smooth things over—I'd rather give them a chance to fix it before I start filing paperwork or taking it through official channels. Because, well, I consider myself a civilized person and I don't want to cause a scene immediately. But I won't let anyone take their frustrations out on me, let alone on sick parents.

And this idea that "it might become annoying" to deal with people—I honestly don't know how to respond to that. It's their damn job. I'll say it again: if they find it annoying, they can quit. I won't tolerate people dumping their moods onto patients, especially not the decent, easy-going ones. If mom had to get up, and if she had to use slippers that she couldn't reach because she wasn't allowed to bend over—and the nurse had shoved them under the bed—what was she supposed to do other than call a nurse to hand them to her? Instead, this arrogant creature comes along and takes it out on her just because she dared to call for help. It's a disaster.

4. That's a difficult one to comment on. Some people want to die in the hospital because they want that sense of false security provided by the doctors and nurses nearby. Others, however, just want to get away from the hospital as quickly as possible. Toward the end, Dad wanted to be home, but we were naturally worried about mom's heart and how she would handle everything. But somehow, her love for him and her desire to help him through those final, hardest moments kept her going, so neither of them left.

Patrick Reyes15 said:We can't just act like there isn't a human element behind the "system." The system isn't some imaginary, untouchable ghost in the machine—it's made up of those very doctors. And surely, as a highly skilled specialist and a respected physician, she actually has some influence over how things run. Maybe not total control, but if every doctor actually stepped up and took some responsibility, things might actually move forward. Even those empty-headed politicians would need to wake up once in a while. We can't just keep chanting "it's the system's fault, it's the system's fault" without actually doing anything to change it.
It’s just like that classic line: "the institutions should just do their jobs." Nobody knows anything, and everyone is always pointing the finger at someone else.

That person might be on their feet for 30 hours if they're picking up extra private shifts—which, honestly, they really shouldn't be doing.

Kyle Lee7 said:I'm concluding that you must be a primary care physician. 😉

First of all, every specialist SHOULD take a full medical history and know exactly what medications the patient is currently taking and what other conditions they might be dealing with.
Why would you think a primary care doctor knows which drugs interact, but a specialist wouldn't?
For instance, when I see my pulmonologist once a year, she gets a complete report from me regarding my other diagnosis. I ask her if Singulair interacts with interferon, just like I ask my neurologist the same thing. Plus, I read the instructions for both medications myself.

But let's assume not every patient will remember to do that.
I still believe specialists should have the authority to prescribe medication and order follow-up tests directly. That same specialist could easily be digitally linked to the primary care physician, rather than us running around with piles of paperwork and wasting both our time and theirs by duplicating work.

It’s not that I have anything against my own GP—not at all—but it’s exhausting to think that for every single test or check-up, I have to go to them first, wait for the appointment, wait for the booking, and then go back to them again, in an endless loop, all while the waiting rooms are always packed.

That’s exactly why I handle quite a few things privately. And I pay for supplemental insurance too. You really have to piece everything together just to get adequate treatment.

Karen Young17 said:Why on earth would I need to pray to anyone just to get an explanation for the very reason I showed up?

Take the other day, for instance... I went in for an abdominal ultrasound, and honestly, the entire experience consisted of nothing more than being told to "take a breath," "hold it," and "just breathe"—followed by the standard, "wait over by the window for your results." Then, I finally get the report in my hands and it says:

Cholecystolithiasis—or what most people just call gallstones—is one of those medical terms that sounds much more intimidating than the actual reality of dealing with it. Essentially, you’re looking at solid deposits forming in your gallbladder, which can turn a routine Tuesday into a complete nightmare if they decide to migrate. It’s a bit like having a handful of gravel stuck in a delicate piece of plumbing; everything functions fine until a stone decides to wedge itself right in the narrowest part of the pipe. Once that happens, the discomfort isn't just a nuisance—it's a full-blown crisis.
Splenomegaly—essentially an enlarged spleen—is one of those medical terms that sounds much more intimidating than the actual sensation might suggest, though the underlying causes can certainly be serious. It isn’t a disease in itself, but rather a clinical sign that something else is going on within the body's internal ecosystem. Think of the spleen as a sort of high-tech filtration plant for your blood. When that plant starts swelling, it’s usually because it's being overworked—perhaps by fighting off a persistent infection, or due to issues with how blood cells are being produced or recycled. It could be anything from a relatively minor viral bout to more complex hematological concerns that require a specialist's touch. If you’re feeling that specific fullness or discomfort in the upper left side of your abdomen, it’s worth getting it checked out by a professional. It’s better to have a doctor run some standard tests—maybe some blood work or an ultrasound—to figure out if your "filtration plant" is just dealing with a temporary clog or if there's a deeper systemic issue at play. Always listen to those subtle cues your body sends; they're rarely wrong.

I did some Googling of these Latin terms and discovered that I have an enlarged spleen and gallstones... Should I be praying over this information, or was my doctor—the one who performed the exam—supposed to tell me directly?

Nicholas Chavez70 Asks:
It shouldn't be particularly difficult to distinguish between those who dress themselves up and those who just smoke like a chimney. When you look at the data—blood alcohol levels, the specific patterns of damage to the liver, brain, stomach, and kidneys—it becomes quite obvious how chronic drinkers differ from everyone else. It’s the same story with cigarettes; you have layers of tar and nicotine building up in the lungs year after year. Personally, I’m all for a dedicated surcharge on alcohol and tobacco to help fund Medicare, but that isn't true prevention. If you actually want to prevent health issues, the most effective method is prevention via the wallet—making the cost high enough that people think twice before they indulge.

So, get this—about nine months ago, I was recovering from surgery. While I was in the ICU, the doctor on duty was listening to my lungs when she suddenly shakes her head and starts muttering under her breath, something like, "Ugh, you smoke..." I could have sworn right then and there that I’ve never even touched a cigarette in my entire life. It’s honestly such a repulsive assumption to make. But here I am—the lucky one who basically grew up in a cloud of smoke, having spent twenty-three years breathing in secondhand smoke.

And how exactly would you go about proving that?

My grandfather used to say back in the day—and he was one of those old-school types who didn't waste words—that things were built differently then. It wasn't just about the quality of the tools or the materials, though that was part of it; it was more about a certain mindset, a way of approaching life that seems to have slipped through our fingers lately. He had this quiet, steady way of looking at the world—not rushing to judgment, just observing—and he believed that if you took care of the small details, the big picture would eventually take care of itself. It’s a perspective that feels increasingly rare in such a loud, fast-paced era. Twelve varieties. It’s always the same cycle—you take a pill, then go in for a follow-up only to have the doctor tell you your stomach is acting up because of the medication, so they just hand you another prescription to fix the side effects of the first one. It's a bit of a loop, isn't it? 🙄

I honestly get a little anxious watching my doctor click through the exact same menu a million times—just pounding away at the keyboard with two fingers like she’s using an old typewriter.

If she realized that software isn't static—that you don't just use the same program every single day and constantly have to type things out—maybe she wouldn't be so perpetually lost in space and time... by the way, I've been seeing this woman for 40 years now.

Patrick Reyes15 said:Here’s the rest of the story since the last post cut me off mid-sentence. 🙂

About eight years ago, my mom was diagnosed with some heart issues—and of course, because medical opinions vary, we were met with a mountain of conflicting advice right out of the gate, which didn't exactly inspire confidence. Basically, an old doctor—a family friend who wasn't practicing anymore—read her EKG and told us she’d actually had a myocardial infarction and just walked right through it. Naturally, the hospital staff didn't see it that way initially. Once they finally confirmed it, the confusion only grew; one specialist would insist she needed valve surgery, while another argued medication was enough. It leaves you feeling incredibly vulnerable as a patient when you're supposed to be in capable hands, yet the experts in front of you are essentially bickering over your life.
Ultimately, she ended up on a regimen of pills without the surgery, which—in a cruel twist of fate—only made things worse regarding Dad’s situation, eventually leading doctors to say a transplant was her only hope. They actually caught the urgency during a private ultrasound at a clinic—she’d been sent there by her hospital doctor because apparently, the hospital staff was too "overbooked" or "tied up"... I can't recall the exact excuse. When she urgently scheduled an appointment with her primary physician, he agreed a transplant was necessary and explained there was a massive gauntlet of testing required just to get her on the waiting list.
The transplant team includes a very prominent, highly recognized surgeon who will be overseeing her case. Shortly after, my mom was admitted to the hospital for those tests, and both of my parents ended up hospitalized simultaneously—each in a different part of town. In moments like those, all you crave is a little compassion or a kind word from the medical staff. But humanity was in short supply. My mom would ask to be released for an hour or two around 2:00 AM when there were no tests scheduled, just so she could visit Dad, who was literally counting down his final days. Some doctors viewed this as nothing more than extreme rudeness or being "spoiled," and they flatly refused to sign the paperwork to let her out. A few others were more reasonable, so she did manage to slip out briefly here and there. After spending two weeks in that hospital, dealing with a mix of total idiots and genuinely wonderful people who actually care about their work, they finally cleared her for the transplant list.
Later on, she had to go in for monthly follow-ups, which usually involved sitting in a waiting room for three or four hours just to have this high-profile surgeon ask if everything was "okay" or if there was anything new. Honestly, the way this system handles critically ill patients is nonsensical. They schedule these appointments, and then the doctor doesn't even show up because she's on call or somewhere else entirely. And when you finally do get a moment with this "distinguished" professional, she treats you with zero empathy or genuine interest in the patient’s well-being. To top it off, she didn't even bother explaining the actual transplant process—what to expect, what recovery looks like, or how long the wait might be. During one check-up, Mom tried to give the doctor the contact numbers for all of us, just in case her heart failed and she couldn't hear her phone, so we could rush her to the hospital. The doctor wouldn't even listen or take a single note. Seriously, lady, if the police ever had to track you down, you'd be in trouble. She said that to a critically ill cardiac patient! I think if Mom saw a police officer at our door, she’d think something catastrophic had happened to us.
I accompanied her once and we actually joked about how empty the place was—maybe everyone was away on a ski trip or something. Regardless, we still sat there waiting for an hour. So much for "efficiency" and organization.
On the bright side, Mom did receive a heart. We experienced quite a few beautiful moments during that phase. From the very first contact with the nurse who called us, to the intake process and the staff preparing her for surgery, the atmosphere was incredibly positive and relaxed, which really helped build trust in both the procedure and the recovery. We stayed with her right up until the surgery, which meant a lot to us. The operation went well, and by the next morning, she was moved to the ICU. The people in the ICU were unbelievably kind and sweet. From the doctors to the young nursing staff, they were exactly how I imagine medical professionals should be: compassionate, human, and highly skilled. It felt secure and encouraging.
Once she moved from the ICU to the general ward, however, the vibe changed completely. You still find some decent people, but you also run into the most inexplicable individuals. There are people there who snap at patients, don't even offer a greeting when they walk in, act incredibly arrogant, and are just plain rude—they won't show up even twenty minutes after being called, and when they finally do, they're condescending. For instance, Mom asked for her slippers because they were under the bed, and the response she got was, "What do you want? Should I put them on your bed instead?" Then she asked for the blanket to be moved because she was hot, and the nurse just snapped at her and left it draped over her legs. When she asked for something for the pain—not a pill, as the doctor had specifically instructed—the nurse barked at her that she couldn't do it that way. When Mom asked to call the doctor, the nurse claimed he wasn't available; when Mom asked to call him on the phone to verify the medication, the nurse insisted there wasn't even a doctor on shift. Now, I have to wonder: is she blatantly lying, or does a ward housing a heart transplant patient truly have no doctor on call at night? I honestly don't know which thought is more terrifying.