Elementary and Brain Injury

CN: television medicine, physical trauma, medical diagnosis, medical mistreatment, sexual assault, hormonal/menstrual symptoms and headaches/migraines

Contains spoilers for Season Six of Elementary

 

The ending of Elementary season 5 left us with the image of Sherlock Holmes being caged in a TV-version MRI machine (if you ever see one that has a head cage rather than a head rest, do let me know; I’ve been through three models of machine and never seen one) after experiencing what was revealed as hallucinations.

 

Unlike Bones, where the hallucinations were a 1-2-step of hallucination-brain tumour-surgery-fine, it was set up as Something Serious.

 

Elementary returned recently, and gave us what the showrunners consider an answer to this cliffhanger of “what’s wrong with Sherlock”.

 

There are two issues with this answer, which, for the spoiler-concerned, I discuss below the jump. Please bear in mind this is based solely on the first episode, which is all I have access to at this time.

 

Continue reading Elementary and Brain Injury

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here’s a thought

There should be a reality show.

 

People with chronic pain that is “too hard” or “unspecified” or “weird” can go on, and if the doctors at a carefully selected, high-profile hospital (or a stable of specialists, w/e) cannot diagnose them or improve their QOL, the studio pays for lifetime care and ensures access to pain meds and mobility aids, etc. including access to these same doctors so there is continuity of care.

People would also have access to non-judgmental mental health support, where “it’s just conversion” is a banned phrase.

In exchange, people would have to grant access to their medical records for, say, 2 years prior to their show (2 years being the period for Centrelink use to decide that an illness is permanent), allow testing by the studio’s doctors (this would prevent people just trying to get $$), and agree to be filmed, though their identity could and should be protected.

Maybe then, people wouldn’t be left without access to treatment or medication or be forced into treatment they don’t want, tapered against their will, or otherwise harmed.

 

(Maybe then doctors would just say ‘if you want that apply for the show’ and cut people off anyway, but this is meant to be optimistic.)

Sometimes ‘funny’ is the only word

CN: discrimination moar codeine drama, stigma due to mental health/gender

Remember this?¬†The doctor firing me after I walked out after being told I couldn’t have the script I was already told would be provided, and not being allowed to talk?

 

So I complained about it.

Continue reading Sometimes ‘funny’ is the only word

Risk

CN: moar codeine drama; gender-nonconformi-ness and medical care, mention of genital-related medical issues

 

I saw a different doctor at the same practice. He was nice, apart from two things

  • the guilt trip and ‘you know the risks’ talk, when by now if they really think I don’t know that medications have risks, they should be sending me for a capacity assessment…
  • ‘she’ and ‘Miss’

Continue reading Risk

invisible

CN: moar codeine drama, doctor angst, medical anxiety, disordered eating, panic attacks

 

I saw the doctor today. Last week it was ‘try Panadeine, obviously if you’re still allergic you can’t have it, but try it!’. So instead of seeing my family and having an actual Easter, I spent the weekend having an allergic reaction to paracetamol, something which was diagnosed by an actual real doctor a whole three and a bit years ago.

Continue reading invisible

before and after

CN: medical care with gender non-conforming body, disability, accomodating disability and medical procedures, mentions of sexual boundaries being violated, body image issues 

So the MRI went as well as I expected – that is to say, not well. I was not allowed to lie on my side as I asked and so, apart from running out to get meds the day after (which was not fun and extremely difficult for me, to the point that random strangers insisted on ‘helping’ and making things worse) I have been stuck at home all week, not able to cook for myself, walk unsupported, shower, stay awake, or see unimpeded. It has been six days and my legs and feet are still burning, my back still aches, and the band pain kicked in last night, so at least I know it’s peaked now.

 

But on Tuesday I have to have an ECG (electrocardiogram). My echocardiogram from 2014 has gotten lost to the annals of time, and the doctor who ordered it is about as good at sending records as he is at diagnosing chronic pain, so it’s as good as never having existed, except for the utterly dehumanising experience burned into my memory and the report which I know I saw.

Continue reading before and after