Worst Word in the World

by Doranna


badwordWe probably all have our Worst Words.  That one’s mine.

It means, roughly, disease without known cause.*

*PS That we have no idea how to treat because really, nothing truly works and good luck with that.

Over the years, all of my Lyme symptoms have been idiopathic (and now that they’re not, no one knows how to fix them anyway).  And since I was in fifth grade (which is a mighty long time indeed, now), my dad’s mounting inexplicable neurological symptoms were so idiopathic that it took several studies and an international conglomeration of doctors to say so (improved MRI tech eventually diagnosed a rare syringiomyelia, forty years-plus after the onset).

When I was fifteen, I started a long journey of surgeonly invasions to diagnose knee pain that was eventually declared one step below idiopathic, which is to say, “There’s no reason for your pain and therefore I can’t fix it.  Have fun with that, athletic young woman, and start personalizing your crutches now.”

(Well, there WAS a reason.  That particular doctor just wasn’t good enough to catch it, and eventually major surgery ensued with another doctor, but it took nearly a quarter of my life to that point to figure it out and trust me, that is FOREVER when you are young and just want to run like the wind.)

Each and every one of ConneryBeagle’s bizarro weird reoccurring issues has been idiopathic…officially speaking.  Vaccine-induced, thank you very much.  But no one understands that mechanism so no one knows how to treat things so there you are. Officially, everything is idiopathic.

Well, Rena Beagle recently had a rhinoscopy for her persistent (since August) inside-out sneezing.  It went quite well, actually–she bounced back so fast I swear I heard her say, “Please, mum, may I have some more?”  The exam ruled out big in-yer-face issues and discovered inflammation, so a biopsy was taken.


Then we all went off to be busy and to pretend we weren’t waiting for results.

Which we now have.

Which include That Word.

Idiopathic lymphoplasmacytic rhinitis

So this means that her nasal tissue is inflamed and no one really knows why. In her case, it makes her backwards sneeze with enough force to shake the household.

The litrachure on this condition is not promising It basically says, “Yeah, you can treat it, sort of randomly using one of these several protocols, but don’t expect much.”

So a few days from now I have an appointment with Auntie Vet (sans Rena, who has already played her part), during which we’ll decide which of the protocols we’ll try.  They consist of heavy duty anti-inflammatories (inhaler steroids or NSAIDs), anti-inflammatories combined with antibiotics that have anti-inflammatory effects, anti-fungals, immunosuppressants…I think I have them all listed.  No one’s mentioned cordyceps (mushrooms) or essential oils, but both are on my own list.


“Treatment for idiopathic lymphoplasmacytic rhinitis is extremely frustrating with a cure rarely achieved.”

Yes, yes, YES.  I hear you.


We have already achieved “extremely frustrating” and “extremely expensive.”  It is now time for “treatment” and “cure.” Don’t you think?  I think.

And that to the Worst Word in the World.  Because…




About Doranna

My books are SF/F, mystery, paranormal romance, and romantic suspense. My dogs are Beagles, my home is the Southwest, and the horse wants a cookie!
This entry was posted in Rena Beagle, The Dogs! and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

17 Responses to Worst Word in the World

  1. Mona Karel says:

    Sweet faced Beagle baby!

  2. Suzan Morrow Farrell says:

    I totally understand your frustration. I’ve gotten tired of going to doctors who can’t figure out my headaches—one says sinus, one says tension, one says migrane—nothing works. Luckily they have not been as often or severe in the last few years. Also–three times now I’ve had extremely high temps which last only 4 or 5 hours then are gone—the first one cost me an emergency room visit. And guess what? Nothing was discovered to be the cause. I hope you find something for Rena—she’s just such a cute little gal.

    • Doranna says:

      Those headaches would have me running for a good acupuncturist or integrative doc! Mine are clearly migraine, but anything that’s helped (without severely harming) has involved digging down to the basic level of balance and supplementation.

      Rena has been more cheerful of late, at least. Getting off the rabbit-only has helped!

      • Suzan Morrow Farrell says:

        They’ve been manageable for the last 5 years or so—so I just keep my fingers crossed. Finding any alternative medicine up here in northern Minnesota is almost impossible. Actually, finding any good doctors at all is a challenge.

        • Doranna says:

          Boy, do I hear that. They say it’s hard to find good doctors around here, but compared to Flagstaff, it’s a mecca (though I’m still looking for a primary care, believe it or not). Of course, the insurance in AZ was so problematic as to be non-existent. Classic example of what ACA is trying to fix.

          • Suzan Morrow Farrell says:

            MN in general is very good for insurance and doctor’s are excellent in the metropolitan areas—but retirement is best in the up north woods. Actually, in a real pinch it’s only a 3 hour drive to the big city. That’s what we have to do for anything major–dogs and people alike.

          • Doranna says:

            BTDT. Lots. But being where you need to be? Priceless!

  3. Patty says:

    Ugh. I am just recovering from the non-idiopathic flu. Joy of Christmas and all. Good luck Rena!

  4. Marilyn says:

    Poor Rena! She looks so SAD, and boy, do I know that look because I’ve gotten it from Babette when her reverse sneezes get out of hand. And yeah — idiopathic. I hates it, I does.

    The docs at my end of the world are certain they know what my problem is: I just need to stop stuffing my face and lose some weight, and it (whatever it is today) will all clear up! One hitch: I eat the same amount I ate when I was normal weight, one-fourth what my slender husband does. (6000 calories a day, on a desk job… and he’s slender. 1500 calories for me, and water therapy 3x a week for two hours and…) When I presented with symptoms of uterine cancer, I was told “JSSYF&LSM&IWACU!” If I hadn’t gotten a second opinion, I’d be dead or dying now instead of celebrating the 5 year all clear marker. (I fired that doc.)

    I’m just glad that in Babette’s case, the homeopathic thuja seems to work for 3-4 weeks. It, at least, is noninvasive, and unlikely to have other systemic effects. I will surely be sending good thoughts in Rena’s direction! (Connery already gets them on a daily basis.)

    • Doranna says:

      I don’t know what all those acronyms are, but I do hear your pain about how that doc responded to you!

      I’m keeping thuja in mind, for sure. I just want to go into this with a plan as opposed to a complete shotgun approach. Choices…

  5. Stephanie Lilley says:

    I hope the treatment helps her feel better. I had one vet diagnose a dog having seizures as ‘maybe even rabies’ although of course the dog had had his shots. Another vet said ‘all dogs throw up’ for same dog. Turned out to be ivermectin–he was reacting to heartworm medicine although nothing in him looked like a collie. Within 3 months he was so bad he had to be put down. I never went back to those vets. As for people doctors–took NINETEEN to find out the horrible pain in the middle was actually my gall bladder (turns out stones 1/2″ were blocking the ducts). Before that I got a lot of idiot idiopathic diagnoses–oh, I was just a nervous person, that it was referred pain from somewhere else, that I was ‘one of those people that Maalox didn’t work for’. Meanwhile I had 20 stones taken out and they accidentally (hope it was) left 2 in so I had to go back 3 months later for another operation–the kind with 18″ scar not talking band-aid surgery for me. Ack! I decided it’s all guesswork in the end and if a treatment makes things better and you don’t come back then they are satisfied they solved your problem.

    • Doranna says:

      After two gallbladder attacks, I figured out the problem and went to my then primary. “I think I have gallstones. I need an ultrasound.” He was taken aback, went through the symptoms…ordered the ultrasound. I did have gallstones. I wish I’d tried to dissolve them as opposed to getting the gallbladder out, as that caused no end to issues after that. (Not what happened to you, but…drama.)

      But at least that one wasn’t ever called idiopathic! One of the few things I’ve dealt with that was a Quickly Named Thing. 8)

      • Stephanie Lilley says:

        Fortunately, after mine came out I was fine. Now my sister–she knew she had a gall bladder problem. Drs kept telling her the readings weren’t bad enough to take it out. She actually went to the Emergency Room and staged a ‘lie-in’, refusing to leave until they took it out. I was there the whole time. Her dr was out of town or she might have gotten her wish that day. However, they did take it out not long after and said, “Oh, it looks really bad. Good thing we took it out.” Jeez.

  6. E Rose Sabin says:

    Sounds like what I went through for a couple of years with Kira, taking her to two different veterinary clinics, knowing something was wrong with her, but no one found anything, until one New Year’s Day she apparently ate something that didn’t agree with her and because there was a bit of blood in her vomit I took her to the Animal Emergency Clinic, my regular vet of course being closed. And the older lady vet, after treating her tummy upset, said to me, after never having seen her before that occasion, “You know, she shows all the symptoms of Cushing’s disease.” And not having heard of Cushing’s before, I went home and looked it up on the internet, found an excellent site that told all about it, its causes, treatments, etc., and listed the symptoms, and sure enough, she had almost every one of them. And I still had a hard time convincing her vets that she had it. It took a visit to a specialist and a blood sample sent to a lab in Tennessee to prove that she did indeed have Cushing’s. Since she’s been on the treatment for it, she’s been doing quite well and is a happy beagle.
    I hope the treatment for Rena will have a happy outcome. She’s such a sweet-faced little beagle. It does seem that all too often medical diagnosis is a stab in the dark.

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