In early April I saw my current rheumatologist (nicknamed Baby Rheumy, she's only been practicing since Sept). She can't diagnose or treat me based on my test results so I'm up shit creek without a paddle. I've exhausted the seronegative rheumatology options my insurance covers, which doesn't make me feel as special as you may think.
This week I saw my PCP to say "please help." This wasn't the first time we'd had that conversation. Turns out Awesome Rheumy (my former rheum) is back in the office very part time after an extended health-related absence. So we messaged her to say how much I'd like to see her again. "Help me Awesome Rheumy, you're my only hope" is how I'd have put it; PCP was more eloquent and less desperate. AR is the doc who gave weight to my symptoms, connected the dots, gave me diagnosis, and started helpful treatment.
And now I wait. Awesome Rheumy's nurse will call to schedule an appt...at some point. I hope. We had a great working relationship and I have no other options, plus she enjoyed the puzzle that is me. I'd cross my fingers if not for the cat snuggling on my arms.
*"An estimated high average to superior level of premorbid functioning"