(Try saying the title of this post three times really fast.)
I visited specialist doctor rooms a couple of times as a
child. The quietness of the rooms was unnerving, the many empty chairs gave me
the distinct impression that no one liked going there, and the cold, meticulous
manner in which the specialist dealt with his patients, i.e. me, convinced me
he was the reason people stayed away.
Since reaching adulthood I’ve discovered that the fees were
the more likely deterrent. Specialist rooms are still unusually quiet and half
empty, but many specialists that I’ve visited as an adult have been friendly,
caring and very helpful in my quest for answers.
In July 2010, the renal specialist that confirmed the
diagnosis of nephritis and post-viral fatigue was very down-to-earth and
friendly. She explained the functions of my kidneys, told me that apart from
the nephritis, which would clear, my kidneys were fine and sent me home to
rest.
But as my frustration with my post-viral fatigue diagnosis
increased, so did the various symptoms. A blurry spot developed on my right
eye. It didn’t cover the entire focus of my eye, just the central focus, so if
I was reading a book, the words I was trying to read would have a blurry spot
on them. All the words surrounding the blurry ones were fine.
My doctor referred me to an ophthalmologist, so in August
2010, I found myself sitting in another specialist’s waiting room, expecting to
be told my blurry eye was another symptom of my post-viral fatigue and to go
home and rest. As soon as the ophthalmologist looked into my eyes with a
machine that looked like it was designed to torture rather than diagnose, he told
me I had uveitis. In light of my recent ‘nasty virus’ and post-viral fatigue he
referred me to his colleague, who specialised in uveitis.
In September 2010, my new ophthalmologist read my file and
told me that I must’ve had one hell of a virus because it resulted in TINU (Tubular Interstitial Nephritis and Uveitis) Syndrome. He then suggested I Google it. Being told to Google something by a
medical professional was a shock. I stopped myself short of blurting out,
‘Really? You’re happy for me to Google it? Won’t that make me dangerous to
myself?’
As soon as I got home, I did as he suggested and quickly
discovered why he told me to Google it. Because of its rarity, the only place I
could find any decent information on it was in medical journals. So I armed
myself with a good dictionary and started reading.
Like many illnesses these days, there’s no specific cause of
TINU Syndrome. The steroid drops prescribed by the ophthalmologist cleared up
the uveitis and in time my nephritis cleared as well.
During my research, I discovered that people who already
suffer from an autoimmune illness, such as Graves Disease (I was diagnosed with
Graves in 2001), are more likely to contract TINU Syndrome. I shared this
information with the ophthalmologist during my follow-up visit and discovered
he wasn’t aware of the connection.
We then spent the next ten minutes as equals, enjoying an
intelligent conversation about TINU Syndrome and Graves Disease. I left his
office that day with my self-confidence and my faith in the medical profession
restored.
I also realised that I’d been researching the wrong things
when it came to my post-viral fatigue. If my ophthalmologist didn’t know all there
was to know about possible causes and illnesses linked to TINU Syndrome, then
why assume that my doctor knew all there was to know about post-viral fatigue?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Your comment will appear on the blog as soon as it has been approved.
Thank you.