I have just enough medical knowledge to be scary…to myself as well as everyone around me. Growing up around a family where literally everyone was a nurse, I was privy to many disturbing diagnostic discussions. Now I even have a daughter who is a nurse!! Given this background, I seriously think I should be awarded some sort of honorary medical degree. To make matters worse, I have become especially dangerous now that Google has enabled my false sense of medical know-how.
For the past week I have been struggling with feeling faint and having a recurring sensation much like there is a tiny mouse in my ear with a plunger who is working it like he’s trying to fix a very backed up toilet before it overflows onto the fluffy bathroom rug (and don’t you dare act like you don’t know the sound and speed of which I’m speaking). When he tires of plunging, he gets out his little mouse hammer and pounds on the inside of my frontal lobe. He is quite the little worker, and while I admire his passion for his job, I didn’t call for his services and the little guy has got to go! My cranium is not going to be home to a plumber rodent! I have enough going on up there and there’s not room for uninvited visitors.
The Urgent Care doctor couldn’t figure out what was wrong but told me I was “severely dehydrated”. Does dehydration bring on handy-man mice in the skull? I’ve never heard of that, but to be fair, I’ve never heard of cranial mice before either. Because this doctor didn’t know me, and I truly didn’t want a psych eval., I didn’t share my mouse theory with him and successfully talked him out of starting an IV by promising to go home and drink a lake.
That evening, my primary care doctor called an wanted to see me for a follow up the next day as he was not buying the dehydration diagnosis and wanted to investigate further. (This would have been good information to know prior to drinking a lake.) This man is a saint and a real trooper when I offer him my consulting services (armed with pages of printouts from Web MD), but he was not buying the mouse-plumber diagnosis. Instead, I ended up with an EKG and several tubes of blood being drained from my arm in an effort to figure out this mouse mystery. No results yet…maybe I’ll call the lab and see if they need my help?
PS-My cats have been staring at me extra hard like they do when there’s a mouse under the dishwasher. I think they know I’m right.