Details, details, details

I am very good a couple things.  Things I am good at would be cooking, knitting, science, and making people laugh.  To balance out my perfection, I am very bad at a couple things, too.  Things I am bad at include counted cross-stitch, anything athletic, and feeling as if I need to know all the answers.  I am not saying I know everything, but I like to think I know everything about me. 

I can be a bit over analytical.  Maybe some people would say I am just doing research, but when there is an, "unknown," in my life, I will obsessively look up as much information on it so I feel like there will be no surprises.  I do not like being caught off guard, so I find comfort in looking at every angle of the situation.  That way I can at least know what my options may be.  For ten years, I worked in medical offices.  When obtaining a patient's medical history, I would constantly get vague answers to specific questions:

     Me:  "Do you have any heart problems?"
     Patient:  "Yes, I have had a heart defect since birth."
     Me:  "What type of defect?"
     Patient:  "I don't know."

Even more frequently than not knowing what type of health concerns they possess, patients had no idea what medications they were ingesting:

    Me:  "What medication do you take for this heart problem?"
     Patient:  "That white one."

How could you not know the name of the medication that you take for the heart defect you do not know the name of?  That would drive me bonkers.  Do some research, look it up on-line, commit to memory the medication used to treat it, any risk factors that could make the condition worse, and whether or not you could expect to drop dead from it in the next 40-50 years.  This is the shit I need to know, and I often forget that not everyone worries about those things like I do.  What is it like to let your brain retain a minimal amount of information and let the rest leak out like a sieve, only allowing the big pieces to remain?  I am sure a lot of people find comfort in the big chunks, but I worry about the tiny pieces that float away because it's those little details that can make all the difference.

I had a doctor's appointment this past week.  Unfortunately, some of the health problems I had last year are not quite done with me.  Once again, I have been told that I am, "an interesting case," that does not seem to, "follow the normal treatment protocols."  I have always been a bit of a rebel, but I did not think my liver was going to be a hell-raiser.  I can tell you all sorts of details about liver adenomas.  They are a rare tumor, benign in nature, and usually are asymptomatic.  They can cause problems and need attention if they start multiplying or growing larger than 5 centimeters.  They can rupture and in rare cases turn malignant.  I have done my research.  What is driving me crazy this weekend is that I do not know what to look into anymore.  My doctor had me consult with another specialist to see if we can figure out why I am becoming the thing medical papers are written about.  After an hour talking about me and nine tubes of blood later, the new doc said he would call me on Monday to let me know what he thinks is going on.  Really?  Monday?  I tried to get him to at least give me some guesses on a disorder or disease or deficiency.  If not, what the hell was I going to, "Google," this weekend?  How am I going to self-diagnose without a place to start?  Guess I will just have to wait impatiently.