Everyone experiences days where you feel all gung-ho, full of energy and ready to do the things that you need to do for the day. Most people can maintain that energy for the majority of the time that they’re out doing whatever errands that need to be done. Imagine being all ready for action, but, by the time you’ve gotten dressed, painted on the face that the public knows you to have, and have your teeth and hair brushed, being SO drained, that all you want to do is go back to bed. That is my life right now. Keep in mind, this is no pity party or “Oh, poor Christine” moment, it’s just reality for me at this time in my life. Hopefully, it will be God’s will to take this illness away and life can go back to normal for me, but, at this juncture, He has decided that it isn’t meant to be.
I have learned to cope with the sudden onset of “The Sleepies”, but I don’t know if the people around me have yet. So, if I suddenly nod off while we are having a conversation, I apologize in advance. It’s nothing personal, it just means that life has caught up with me and I couldn’t fight it anymore. That happened just yesterday. My mom and I were running errands in Hemet, which, being in Hemet alone would make ANYONE sleepy, and on the drive back home, I just couldn’t fight “The Sleepies” anymore and I dozed off for a couple of minutes; hence my being up at 4:30am. Just a little nod off during the day can throw off my whole sleeping pattern, but at least I went to bed at 10:30, so I got a fair amount of sleep.
My life kind of runs off of sugar highs and sugar lows from these lozenges my mom got me for dry mouth (my meds give me BAD dry mouth), so I usually pep up after having one of the lozenges, but you can tell when they have worn off because then my eyes start to droop and so does my head and then you start to get to see just how pretty God made the top of my head. I mean, considering that my dad likes to rub it in that I was a serious “conehead” when I was born, it’s not so bad now; so if you catch me dozing off, admire it and compliment me later, I’d appreciate it.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Christine Rachuy’s Amazing Tight Rope Walk and Balancing Act
Some people have witnessed how my mysterious illness has affected balance and the way I walk; it’s really a sight to see. The only way that I can describe the way that I walk is that it alternates between a granny shuffle and a Chinese military march. One second I’ll be shuffling along and then the next thing you know my left leg will suddenly hike itself up into the air and stay there a moment and then plop itself back down to the ground. Axl Rose and his crazy crab walk across the stage has NOTHING over the kind of walking that I do! I would challenge him to a catwalk any day and I would TOTALLY win! But I don’t think that I would want to battle him on the catwalk because he might beat me up afterward! YIKES!
The balance issue, for me, is a lot scarier because it kind of comes and goes and the severity of it is hit-and-miss. One moment I can have my balance completely under control and the next thing you know…TIMBER! And we all know how big I am, so if you see me falling, you had better move or you’ll end up squashed like a bug on the floor! Just this morning, and lucky enough for me it was 6am so Mom was already up, I got up to use the facilities and didn’t use my cane. I left the door cracked open, just in case anything should go awry. I managed all right until I was on my way out the door. When I flipped off the switch to the bathroom, I totally lost all sense of where I was, so I had to call for my mother and she had to come and get me and put me back to bed. Simply switching off the light in the bathroom messed up my balance AND it messed up my ability to walk because I walked like a Chinese soldier all the way (7 whole feet) to my bedroom.
I now get asked frequently if I’ve had a stroke or an aneurysm by perfect strangers, so my symptoms of my mystery illness are becoming more apparent. My speech, at times, gets slurred or I stutter/stumble over my words or cannot formulate a cohesive sentence which is very frustrating for me; but it’s noticeable to people who don’t even know me, so that’s not a good sign. But I’m still plugging along. Like I tell people all the time: I truly am sicker than I come off, it’s just a façade that I am putting up so that I don’t bring people down that are around me.
As an aside: the reason I haven’t blogged in a while is because I recently got hired as a freelance writer, so I’ve been focusing a little more on that because I have a writing quota that I have to meet, but I will do my best to keep up my blogs as well. Thank you all for reading them!
The balance issue, for me, is a lot scarier because it kind of comes and goes and the severity of it is hit-and-miss. One moment I can have my balance completely under control and the next thing you know…TIMBER! And we all know how big I am, so if you see me falling, you had better move or you’ll end up squashed like a bug on the floor! Just this morning, and lucky enough for me it was 6am so Mom was already up, I got up to use the facilities and didn’t use my cane. I left the door cracked open, just in case anything should go awry. I managed all right until I was on my way out the door. When I flipped off the switch to the bathroom, I totally lost all sense of where I was, so I had to call for my mother and she had to come and get me and put me back to bed. Simply switching off the light in the bathroom messed up my balance AND it messed up my ability to walk because I walked like a Chinese soldier all the way (7 whole feet) to my bedroom.
I now get asked frequently if I’ve had a stroke or an aneurysm by perfect strangers, so my symptoms of my mystery illness are becoming more apparent. My speech, at times, gets slurred or I stutter/stumble over my words or cannot formulate a cohesive sentence which is very frustrating for me; but it’s noticeable to people who don’t even know me, so that’s not a good sign. But I’m still plugging along. Like I tell people all the time: I truly am sicker than I come off, it’s just a façade that I am putting up so that I don’t bring people down that are around me.
As an aside: the reason I haven’t blogged in a while is because I recently got hired as a freelance writer, so I’ve been focusing a little more on that because I have a writing quota that I have to meet, but I will do my best to keep up my blogs as well. Thank you all for reading them!
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Who Let In the Insane Butcher?
We all know that I take more medication than my 90 year old grandmother, we’ve established that I’ve reached senior citizenship before I’ve even reached middle age; but, putting that aside, I have been put on a new medication for my “migraines” and, so far, it seems as though it’s doing it’s job. Well, let me qualify that, it seems to be doing it’s job during the day, it’s at night—well, at the wee hours of the morning (4am)—that it loses it’s effectiveness. For the last three nights I have been woken up out of a dead sleep with THE most horrendous stabbing pain in my head that it brings me to tears. It’s like some psycho killer butcher has come into my room with his butcher knife and stabbed me in the left side of my head. It’s the kind of pain that is so bad that you would not wish it on your worst enemy. It leaves me with no choice but to take a strong medication that will knock me out for hours (I don’t end up waking up until after 11am) and it throws off my entire day because I’ve slept away half of the day. It really stinks because it throws off my medication schedule, my daily walk schedule…it just messes everything up, not just for me, but for my whole family because everything has to be scheduled around me. I feel like such a burden sometimes and it makes me really sad…I try not to feel sad because I know that my family knows that I can’t help it, but it’s still really hard not to feel that way.
Today I called my primary doctor to discuss this 4am headache issue and it took all day for her to tell me it’s a Neurology issue, so then I had to call and leave a message with Neurology. He called me back within a few minutes only to tell me that I’ve only been on the meds for a little over a week, so continue taking it like I have been and if the 4am butcher visit continues, then up the dose to 2 pills twice a day and see if that helps, so I pretty much wasted my day waiting for nothing. So, with that in my mind, I am going to bid you all farewell and hope that the 4am butcher stays away and that I will get a good night’s sleep.
Today I called my primary doctor to discuss this 4am headache issue and it took all day for her to tell me it’s a Neurology issue, so then I had to call and leave a message with Neurology. He called me back within a few minutes only to tell me that I’ve only been on the meds for a little over a week, so continue taking it like I have been and if the 4am butcher visit continues, then up the dose to 2 pills twice a day and see if that helps, so I pretty much wasted my day waiting for nothing. So, with that in my mind, I am going to bid you all farewell and hope that the 4am butcher stays away and that I will get a good night’s sleep.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Unfortunately, Sadness Has Caught Up With Me
Throughout this whole ordeal of mine I have not once considered myself depressed. There certainly have been times where I have been sad and a little down but NEVER depressed because I have never felt the need to feel that way, no matter how badly my head hurts; how fast, slow, clockwise, counterclockwise, vertically, or horizontally the room is spinning; no matter how much, frequently, infrequently I throw up I have been able to maintain my personality; but today was different. From the very get go, 6:45am, things were just not going in my favor.
I woke up for a few minutes with my mom at 6:45am just feeling puny—to quote my Aunt Brenda—and then went back to bed. Then at around 7:45 I was woken up out of a dead sleep with the sharpest pain in my head that it brought tears to my eyes! So I took a Tylenol with Codeine and went back to sleep and didn’t wake up until after 11am! Waking up that late just kind of threw my whole day off, but I took a short walk—with the help of a walker and my dog Eden—on my street to the end of the dirt patch that marks the end of my property and back. Then I had a Pure Protein shake and attempted a nap, but that didn’t happen, so I went for another walk with my walker and Eden and this time we went a little bit further past the property line—and I paid the price for going a little bit further—and Eden just had a blast being the Service Dog that she was raised to be! Once I got back in the house I crashed on the couch, except that my brain forgot that when someone “crashes on the couch” it means that they fall asleep, so I never actually got a nap today.
Then I decided to begin the process of trying to become a writer for The Examiner, but I wanted to do a sample of my writing ability on paper first before I typed it out and sent it in, just so that I could make sure that it was grammatically correct, that it had good spelling, that it flowed well, had good content, all the things that you want as a good writer; so I bust out my trusty pen and paper to get started doing that—and we all know that I have PLENTY of both to take care of that business. But as I’m holding the pen in my hand and attempting to write the words on paper, the writing looks NOTHING like my normal writing. I put the paper and pen down and began to cry…writing is so much a part of who I am and to not be able to do it write now because of the weakness from the illness…well, it just breaks my heart. I know that writing doesn’t define who I am, but it is a large part of who I am and to not be able to do it right now really hurts. So, today would be the first time that I would say that I am depressed by the illness that has been plaguing me. Am I going to let it continue making me depressed? HECK NO! But today was definitely a hard day for me.
My normal writing before I got sick:
Writing now:
I woke up for a few minutes with my mom at 6:45am just feeling puny—to quote my Aunt Brenda—and then went back to bed. Then at around 7:45 I was woken up out of a dead sleep with the sharpest pain in my head that it brought tears to my eyes! So I took a Tylenol with Codeine and went back to sleep and didn’t wake up until after 11am! Waking up that late just kind of threw my whole day off, but I took a short walk—with the help of a walker and my dog Eden—on my street to the end of the dirt patch that marks the end of my property and back. Then I had a Pure Protein shake and attempted a nap, but that didn’t happen, so I went for another walk with my walker and Eden and this time we went a little bit further past the property line—and I paid the price for going a little bit further—and Eden just had a blast being the Service Dog that she was raised to be! Once I got back in the house I crashed on the couch, except that my brain forgot that when someone “crashes on the couch” it means that they fall asleep, so I never actually got a nap today.
Then I decided to begin the process of trying to become a writer for The Examiner, but I wanted to do a sample of my writing ability on paper first before I typed it out and sent it in, just so that I could make sure that it was grammatically correct, that it had good spelling, that it flowed well, had good content, all the things that you want as a good writer; so I bust out my trusty pen and paper to get started doing that—and we all know that I have PLENTY of both to take care of that business. But as I’m holding the pen in my hand and attempting to write the words on paper, the writing looks NOTHING like my normal writing. I put the paper and pen down and began to cry…writing is so much a part of who I am and to not be able to do it write now because of the weakness from the illness…well, it just breaks my heart. I know that writing doesn’t define who I am, but it is a large part of who I am and to not be able to do it right now really hurts. So, today would be the first time that I would say that I am depressed by the illness that has been plaguing me. Am I going to let it continue making me depressed? HECK NO! But today was definitely a hard day for me.
My normal writing before I got sick:
Writing now:
Monday, May 17, 2010
That Forrest Gump Guy Had Something Right…
Forrest Gump had it completely right: life is like a box of chocolates; you never know what you’re going to get in life. Sometimes you could luck out and get one of the really good ones, like the chocolate covered peanuts, a caramel, or even a nugget; or you could get a total bummer and end up with one of those nasty ones that are supposed to be strawberry or cherry flavored in the center. But, then there is the worst of the worst: synthetic coconut ::shrill screams of horror::!
As Christians we know that we are never going to be given more than we can handle. The Lord knows the exact amount that we are able to handle before we are going to reach a breaking point. We think that we know when that breaking point is, thus the “Forrest Gump” reference, but it’s ultimately up to God to decide when that point is and what that point consists of. Trust me, the night of Bart Fest 2010 (March 18), I was crying my eyes out, telling my mother that I didn’t think that I could take much more of this because I had been vomiting for about 3 hours straight; but here I am, nearly 2 months later, and not doing all that much better, but I am keeping on because it is by God’s grace and mercy that I am able to keep on living. Believe you me, this is not an existence that I would wish upon my worst enemy—not that I consider myself as having any enemies—but even if I did have any, I wouldn’t wish the life that I am having to live right now upon them.
Here is a tiny peek into a day in my life…
I wake up around 8am and immediately—without even getting out of bed—take 4 pills called Raglan, a medication that is supposed to help move food through my body. Then I grab my pill case that contains the rest of my medication for the morning, my cane, and then proceed cautiously out to the living room where I make myself comfortable for the next 30-45 minutes until the Raglan has worked before I can eat. Then I get up—cautiously—and make my way to the kitchen with my cane and make a shake with fresh strawberries, Activia, and a little bit of milk in a blender (it makes about 16 oz., enough for breakfast and lunch). Once I put everything away, I go make myself comfortable on the couch with one shake in a sipee cup and sip away on the shake for about an hour, take my morning medications, and then fall asleep for the next 3 hours or so. Once I’m awake enough I drink some vitamin water and then drink the second shake, have my afternoon medications, and then fall back to sleep for another couple of hours. Any time I happen to get up to use the facilities, answer the door, or prepare an evening shake; I have to use my cane because I am so off balance I run the risk of falling backward. This morning I tried not using my cane to make my morning shakes and had to grad onto my helper in order to keep myself from falling completely over.
If I don’t use my cane when I walk I do the Christine Shuffle to get from one place to the next, but my helper has now decreed that I use my cane no matter what, so I am no longer allowed to walk anywhere without using it because I am such a fall risk.
So, that is a very brief glimpse into my life as it stands (no pun—well, maybe a little—intended). I often walk like a person who has recently had a stroke, but that has been ruled out as a possibility; but I do have a very strange gait, especially when I don’t use my cane. The important thing is that I am alive, so I am trying to just run with that at the moment
As Christians we know that we are never going to be given more than we can handle. The Lord knows the exact amount that we are able to handle before we are going to reach a breaking point. We think that we know when that breaking point is, thus the “Forrest Gump” reference, but it’s ultimately up to God to decide when that point is and what that point consists of. Trust me, the night of Bart Fest 2010 (March 18), I was crying my eyes out, telling my mother that I didn’t think that I could take much more of this because I had been vomiting for about 3 hours straight; but here I am, nearly 2 months later, and not doing all that much better, but I am keeping on because it is by God’s grace and mercy that I am able to keep on living. Believe you me, this is not an existence that I would wish upon my worst enemy—not that I consider myself as having any enemies—but even if I did have any, I wouldn’t wish the life that I am having to live right now upon them.
Here is a tiny peek into a day in my life…
I wake up around 8am and immediately—without even getting out of bed—take 4 pills called Raglan, a medication that is supposed to help move food through my body. Then I grab my pill case that contains the rest of my medication for the morning, my cane, and then proceed cautiously out to the living room where I make myself comfortable for the next 30-45 minutes until the Raglan has worked before I can eat. Then I get up—cautiously—and make my way to the kitchen with my cane and make a shake with fresh strawberries, Activia, and a little bit of milk in a blender (it makes about 16 oz., enough for breakfast and lunch). Once I put everything away, I go make myself comfortable on the couch with one shake in a sipee cup and sip away on the shake for about an hour, take my morning medications, and then fall asleep for the next 3 hours or so. Once I’m awake enough I drink some vitamin water and then drink the second shake, have my afternoon medications, and then fall back to sleep for another couple of hours. Any time I happen to get up to use the facilities, answer the door, or prepare an evening shake; I have to use my cane because I am so off balance I run the risk of falling backward. This morning I tried not using my cane to make my morning shakes and had to grad onto my helper in order to keep myself from falling completely over.
If I don’t use my cane when I walk I do the Christine Shuffle to get from one place to the next, but my helper has now decreed that I use my cane no matter what, so I am no longer allowed to walk anywhere without using it because I am such a fall risk.
So, that is a very brief glimpse into my life as it stands (no pun—well, maybe a little—intended). I often walk like a person who has recently had a stroke, but that has been ruled out as a possibility; but I do have a very strange gait, especially when I don’t use my cane. The important thing is that I am alive, so I am trying to just run with that at the moment
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Urgent Care Visit #5
As many of you know, I feel as though I have little to no talent at anything. I am what you might call a Jack-of-all-trades, Master of none; however, I think I have finally found something that I am TOTALLY a master at: being sick! I think that I have being ill down to such a science that even doctors don’t know what to do with me! Certainly one of these days I am going to be written up in the American Journal of Medicine with this illness of mine that they cannot seem to put their finger on. By NO means is it fun being sick, but it is kind of interesting having the doctors completely perplexed by what is going on with me.
The entire time I have been ill my labs have been completely normal except for once on the day that I like to refer to as Barf Fest 2010; and even on that day the only thing that was out of whack was that my electrolytes were funky and my sodium was low because I had been throwing up for 3 hours STRAIGHT. But, at the same time, my veins were acting like that of a person who is dehydrated, making me a “hard stick” for the nurses to start an IV or to draw blood. Today at Urgent Care, it was no different.
Today, like yesterday, wasn’t starting out all that great. I was awake almost every hour all night long, so at 8am I gave up and got out of bed and made my way to my bed-away-from-bed (aka. the couch) to begin to fritter away the hours of the day by watching America’s Next Top Model, Cycle 11—don’t poke fun, I like to watch it for the pictures, it gives me inspiration—then I remembered the flat of fresh strawberries my mom bought me before she left for Ohio, so I decided that I would sugar those puppies up and put them, some yogurt, and milk into a blender and make myself a shake. Once everything was sufficiently pureed in the blender and poured into a couple of sippee cups, I settled myself into my bed-away-from-bed and tried to enjoy my breakfast/lunch/snack. Now, understand, my sippee cups hold all of 8 oz. so we’re not talking about a whole lot of anything, so I finished off one and began on another one and about half way through the second one I began to feel queasy (to be polite), so I stopped.
With my stomach churning, I took one of my anti-nausea medications (phenergan) in the hopes that it would knock me out and help keep the nutritional value of the natural shake inside of me. It worked for a while, but shortly after my “babysitter” decided to go lie down for a little nap I couldn’t hold it back any longer and up it came. Now, you have to understand, I had been able to hold in the strawberry shake for probably 4 hours before I actually ended up speaking with Porcelain John. I’m no wiz at science or anything, but I would think that my stomach should have absorbed/digested some of that shake by then…mine didn’t. Porcelain John got every bit of the shake that I did! Knowing my body, I knew that there was nothing good coming so I started chugging water and that was, as they say, the beginning of the end. That’s when I started throwing up every sip of water. I woke up my “babysitter” and informed him that I needed to be taken to urgent care, so off we went.
Once at Urgent Care I got a P.A that I, honestly, don’t care all that much for, but my “babysitter” kind of put his foot down because he wasn’t happy with how I was being treated and the P.A’s demeanor changed quickly. They decided to go ahead and start an IV—naturally in the sorest vein in my hand—and draw some blood from there and give me some IV fluids and medications. From all of the barfing and the dry heaving I had done over the last couple of days I had managed to work myself into a pretty good migraine—not your typical one, of course—so I was given some Zofran for the nausea and some Dilaudid for the migraine. In the mean time, my labs, naturally, came back normal, but he gave me some suggestions on upping the dosage of one of my new medications so that it will help avoid the adverse side effects and then prescribed me something for the headache, should it come during the day between the times when I take the preventative medication. He also sent a voicemail message to my primary doctor letting her know that I had ended up in urgent care with my illness because my “babysitter” insisted that he do it. I asked him to do it, but he was kind of hedging to do it, but when my “babysitter” demanded it, he went ahead and did it and then suddenly became a very obliging P.A. It’s always hard to be assertive and your own advocate when you’re not feeling at the top of your game, so I suggest always taking someone with you when you’re really ill.
Then the “real” fun began. So, I’m totally loopy on Dilaudid, sitting in a wheelchair in the pharmacy waiting for my prescription to come through and I’m TOTALLY nodding off in the chair. I’m sure it had to look HIGH-larious, this chubby, raven-haired, multi-piercing-ed person in a wheelchair dozing off in the pharmacy. Finally, after 45 minutes my meds were ready and we get going. We stop at a drive-thru to get food for my “babysitter” and drive home, only to find our neighbors in full swing of having a party…LOUDLY at 8pm! I’m barely conscious, I feel like a semi-truck just ran me over twice, and now I arrive home to this?! WHAT?! I opened up my car door and screamed, “SHUT UP!”
It should be interesting to see if my doctor calls me, come Monday morning. My mom thinks that there might be a possibility that she will call me and have me come back in to the hospital, but she’s not really sure. This illness of mine has been really strange…strange presentation of symptoms…strange labs….everything has just been strange, but this is Christine that we are talking about, so that should come as NO surprise!
The entire time I have been ill my labs have been completely normal except for once on the day that I like to refer to as Barf Fest 2010; and even on that day the only thing that was out of whack was that my electrolytes were funky and my sodium was low because I had been throwing up for 3 hours STRAIGHT. But, at the same time, my veins were acting like that of a person who is dehydrated, making me a “hard stick” for the nurses to start an IV or to draw blood. Today at Urgent Care, it was no different.
Today, like yesterday, wasn’t starting out all that great. I was awake almost every hour all night long, so at 8am I gave up and got out of bed and made my way to my bed-away-from-bed (aka. the couch) to begin to fritter away the hours of the day by watching America’s Next Top Model, Cycle 11—don’t poke fun, I like to watch it for the pictures, it gives me inspiration—then I remembered the flat of fresh strawberries my mom bought me before she left for Ohio, so I decided that I would sugar those puppies up and put them, some yogurt, and milk into a blender and make myself a shake. Once everything was sufficiently pureed in the blender and poured into a couple of sippee cups, I settled myself into my bed-away-from-bed and tried to enjoy my breakfast/lunch/snack. Now, understand, my sippee cups hold all of 8 oz. so we’re not talking about a whole lot of anything, so I finished off one and began on another one and about half way through the second one I began to feel queasy (to be polite), so I stopped.
With my stomach churning, I took one of my anti-nausea medications (phenergan) in the hopes that it would knock me out and help keep the nutritional value of the natural shake inside of me. It worked for a while, but shortly after my “babysitter” decided to go lie down for a little nap I couldn’t hold it back any longer and up it came. Now, you have to understand, I had been able to hold in the strawberry shake for probably 4 hours before I actually ended up speaking with Porcelain John. I’m no wiz at science or anything, but I would think that my stomach should have absorbed/digested some of that shake by then…mine didn’t. Porcelain John got every bit of the shake that I did! Knowing my body, I knew that there was nothing good coming so I started chugging water and that was, as they say, the beginning of the end. That’s when I started throwing up every sip of water. I woke up my “babysitter” and informed him that I needed to be taken to urgent care, so off we went.
Once at Urgent Care I got a P.A that I, honestly, don’t care all that much for, but my “babysitter” kind of put his foot down because he wasn’t happy with how I was being treated and the P.A’s demeanor changed quickly. They decided to go ahead and start an IV—naturally in the sorest vein in my hand—and draw some blood from there and give me some IV fluids and medications. From all of the barfing and the dry heaving I had done over the last couple of days I had managed to work myself into a pretty good migraine—not your typical one, of course—so I was given some Zofran for the nausea and some Dilaudid for the migraine. In the mean time, my labs, naturally, came back normal, but he gave me some suggestions on upping the dosage of one of my new medications so that it will help avoid the adverse side effects and then prescribed me something for the headache, should it come during the day between the times when I take the preventative medication. He also sent a voicemail message to my primary doctor letting her know that I had ended up in urgent care with my illness because my “babysitter” insisted that he do it. I asked him to do it, but he was kind of hedging to do it, but when my “babysitter” demanded it, he went ahead and did it and then suddenly became a very obliging P.A. It’s always hard to be assertive and your own advocate when you’re not feeling at the top of your game, so I suggest always taking someone with you when you’re really ill.
Then the “real” fun began. So, I’m totally loopy on Dilaudid, sitting in a wheelchair in the pharmacy waiting for my prescription to come through and I’m TOTALLY nodding off in the chair. I’m sure it had to look HIGH-larious, this chubby, raven-haired, multi-piercing-ed person in a wheelchair dozing off in the pharmacy. Finally, after 45 minutes my meds were ready and we get going. We stop at a drive-thru to get food for my “babysitter” and drive home, only to find our neighbors in full swing of having a party…LOUDLY at 8pm! I’m barely conscious, I feel like a semi-truck just ran me over twice, and now I arrive home to this?! WHAT?! I opened up my car door and screamed, “SHUT UP!”
It should be interesting to see if my doctor calls me, come Monday morning. My mom thinks that there might be a possibility that she will call me and have me come back in to the hospital, but she’s not really sure. This illness of mine has been really strange…strange presentation of symptoms…strange labs….everything has just been strange, but this is Christine that we are talking about, so that should come as NO surprise!
Friday, May 14, 2010
Vomiting 101
Here is a list of helpful tips and tricks compiled by me, Christine Rachuy, someone who has become an expert at vomiting, albeit not by her own choice. As with all tips, tricks, and advice, they all may not work for everyone, so proceed with caution and find out which ones work best for you (P.S. I am NOT a professional).
AT HOME:: If you have the stomach flu or some kind of illness that is causing you to vomit frequently here are some tips and tricks that I suggest you try that MIGHT make the experience more “pleasant”.
#1…Make the last thing you eat be chocolate. This is because when you go to expel the contents of your stomach, the chocolate is going to be the strongest tasting thing in your stomach, thus causing it to ultimately be what the barf is going to taste like. Sounds gross, but it actually tastes pretty good.
#2…If the last thing you ate was something kind of chunky like cottage cheese, trail mix, or something of that consistency, DO NOT, under any circumstance, put your face within 6 to 8 inches of the toilet while barfing it back up. There is a WICKED splash-back factor that you will have to contend with afterward, which you don’t want to deal with when you are feeling ill.
#3…Though Jell-O is highly recommended as something someone with the stomach flu should consume while ill, be forewarned that it comes back up EXACTLY the same consistency that it goes in. It isn’t all that easy to get up, so I do not actually recommend it as part of your stomach flu diet.
#4…After every time you vomit, make it a point of going into the kitchen and taking a sip of water, protein drink, or vitamin water in order to replenish what you just waved good-bye to down the toilet. It sucks, I’m not going to lie, because it really is the last thing that you want to do considering what you just did in the bathroom, but it will help keep your nutrition and hydration level high enough to keep your organs out of danger.
IN THE HOSPITAL:: While you are in the hospital you have VERY little say on what you are given as food, especially when you are in there as a hyper-emesis patient, but I still have a couple of suggestions.
#1…Ask for the lemon flavored Italian Ice (Icee) at your mealtimes that way, when/if you vomit it back up (like I was doing), it comes up a lot easier than the orange and cherry flavors AND it gives you fresh breath in the process of yakking it back up; so, at least you’re killing two birds with one stone: throwing up and freshening your breath.
#2…If they have you on an anti-nausea/vomiting medication, ask for it when you are only nauseous NOT when you’re already vomiting because by that time you’ve passed the point of no return.
#3…Ice chips are your friend. They soothe your throat, especially after an especially bad bout of vomiting…it’s even better than drinking water…there’s something about the lingering coldness of the ice chips that soothes the throat, so make sure that your nurse, CNA, LVN, MA, whomever brings you as much of it as you want!
That is my barfing advice for the night. I hope that someone might find it a little helpful. Its mostly meant to be humorous, but I do actually follow these “rules”, so you can take ‘em or leave ‘em.
AT HOME:: If you have the stomach flu or some kind of illness that is causing you to vomit frequently here are some tips and tricks that I suggest you try that MIGHT make the experience more “pleasant”.
#1…Make the last thing you eat be chocolate. This is because when you go to expel the contents of your stomach, the chocolate is going to be the strongest tasting thing in your stomach, thus causing it to ultimately be what the barf is going to taste like. Sounds gross, but it actually tastes pretty good.
#2…If the last thing you ate was something kind of chunky like cottage cheese, trail mix, or something of that consistency, DO NOT, under any circumstance, put your face within 6 to 8 inches of the toilet while barfing it back up. There is a WICKED splash-back factor that you will have to contend with afterward, which you don’t want to deal with when you are feeling ill.
#3…Though Jell-O is highly recommended as something someone with the stomach flu should consume while ill, be forewarned that it comes back up EXACTLY the same consistency that it goes in. It isn’t all that easy to get up, so I do not actually recommend it as part of your stomach flu diet.
#4…After every time you vomit, make it a point of going into the kitchen and taking a sip of water, protein drink, or vitamin water in order to replenish what you just waved good-bye to down the toilet. It sucks, I’m not going to lie, because it really is the last thing that you want to do considering what you just did in the bathroom, but it will help keep your nutrition and hydration level high enough to keep your organs out of danger.
IN THE HOSPITAL:: While you are in the hospital you have VERY little say on what you are given as food, especially when you are in there as a hyper-emesis patient, but I still have a couple of suggestions.
#1…Ask for the lemon flavored Italian Ice (Icee) at your mealtimes that way, when/if you vomit it back up (like I was doing), it comes up a lot easier than the orange and cherry flavors AND it gives you fresh breath in the process of yakking it back up; so, at least you’re killing two birds with one stone: throwing up and freshening your breath.
#2…If they have you on an anti-nausea/vomiting medication, ask for it when you are only nauseous NOT when you’re already vomiting because by that time you’ve passed the point of no return.
#3…Ice chips are your friend. They soothe your throat, especially after an especially bad bout of vomiting…it’s even better than drinking water…there’s something about the lingering coldness of the ice chips that soothes the throat, so make sure that your nurse, CNA, LVN, MA, whomever brings you as much of it as you want!
That is my barfing advice for the night. I hope that someone might find it a little helpful. Its mostly meant to be humorous, but I do actually follow these “rules”, so you can take ‘em or leave ‘em.
Another Notch In the Belt of A Bad Day
Normally, when one says they are “putting a notch in their belt” for something, it has a negative connotation, but one that is more of a “badge of honor” in the male world. Today I am continuing to use it as something negative, but it has NOTHING to do with being a badge of honor for a man accomplishing anything “manly” or a woman accomplishing anything “womanly”. All night long I felt REALLY nauseous, I mean, we’re talking from the moment I hit the sheets, to the moment that I woke up this morning I felt sick to my stomach. I ate breakfast (1/4 cup cottage cheese and an Activia) and than began getting ready so that my ride could take me to drop off my paperwork at work. Just before we were about to leave, I had to run—and by “run”, I mean hobble slower than a snail—into the bathroom and emptied my stomach of its contents.
For the ride to work I laid back and “enjoyed” the ride and then after that my ride and I had to do some errands at Target. I got myself one of those fancy-schmancy wheelchairs and we buzzed—at the amazing breakneck speed of .2 mph—around Target to get essentials. When we got to the checkout counter and I finished paying, I told my ride “I think I need to go throw up”, so I drove the cart over toward the bathroom and then hobbled into the restroom and into a stall where I locked myself in.
Now, vomiting is unpleasant no matter where you are. I suppose the “best” place to do it is at home, but doing it in a public bathroom is the worst because you just do not know who’s tooshie has been sitting on that toilet seat that you’ve got your face shoved into; but necessity is the mother of invention; or, in this case, necessity is the mother of accepting the circumstance, so down I went. Sadly, my stomach was completely empty and I was left with nothing but the worst case of dry heaves that I have ever experienced in my entire 30 years of existence. It was SO bad, that I literally thought that I was going to dislocate my eyes from their sockets, that’s how bad the heaving was! When I left the bathroom stall a total stranger had to help me get a paper towel and mop off my face because I was crying from the pain of heaving…I thought that SURELY I had busted blood vessels in my eyes, but amazingly enough, I didn’t!
My ride got me home and I changed into my PJs and took my medicine, removed what little make-up I had put on—which hurt because the dry heaving left A LOT of pressure behind my eyes—and passed out on the couch for 3 hours. My beloved friend and Sista-Mama Maria came by to see me and said, “You look like you need to be back in the hospital” and, to be completely honest, I do feel like I need to be back in there. Do I WANT to be in the hospital? HECK no! But my condition, so far, has not improved, barely maintained, if not slightly declined since my release a week ago.
At this point my plan of attack is to see how tomorrow morning goes and if it is anything like it was today I am going to urgent care to be seen. According to my doctor’s visit on Wednesday, my nutrition level and hydration level were JUST inside the normal range, so I can only imagine what they might be like right now. Knowing the “luck” that I have had this entire illness, they are still just within the normal range, but I guess that will remain to be seen if I end up at the doctor. I will keep everyone as posted as I can, especially if I end up readmitted into the hospital.
For the ride to work I laid back and “enjoyed” the ride and then after that my ride and I had to do some errands at Target. I got myself one of those fancy-schmancy wheelchairs and we buzzed—at the amazing breakneck speed of .2 mph—around Target to get essentials. When we got to the checkout counter and I finished paying, I told my ride “I think I need to go throw up”, so I drove the cart over toward the bathroom and then hobbled into the restroom and into a stall where I locked myself in.
Now, vomiting is unpleasant no matter where you are. I suppose the “best” place to do it is at home, but doing it in a public bathroom is the worst because you just do not know who’s tooshie has been sitting on that toilet seat that you’ve got your face shoved into; but necessity is the mother of invention; or, in this case, necessity is the mother of accepting the circumstance, so down I went. Sadly, my stomach was completely empty and I was left with nothing but the worst case of dry heaves that I have ever experienced in my entire 30 years of existence. It was SO bad, that I literally thought that I was going to dislocate my eyes from their sockets, that’s how bad the heaving was! When I left the bathroom stall a total stranger had to help me get a paper towel and mop off my face because I was crying from the pain of heaving…I thought that SURELY I had busted blood vessels in my eyes, but amazingly enough, I didn’t!
My ride got me home and I changed into my PJs and took my medicine, removed what little make-up I had put on—which hurt because the dry heaving left A LOT of pressure behind my eyes—and passed out on the couch for 3 hours. My beloved friend and Sista-Mama Maria came by to see me and said, “You look like you need to be back in the hospital” and, to be completely honest, I do feel like I need to be back in there. Do I WANT to be in the hospital? HECK no! But my condition, so far, has not improved, barely maintained, if not slightly declined since my release a week ago.
At this point my plan of attack is to see how tomorrow morning goes and if it is anything like it was today I am going to urgent care to be seen. According to my doctor’s visit on Wednesday, my nutrition level and hydration level were JUST inside the normal range, so I can only imagine what they might be like right now. Knowing the “luck” that I have had this entire illness, they are still just within the normal range, but I guess that will remain to be seen if I end up at the doctor. I will keep everyone as posted as I can, especially if I end up readmitted into the hospital.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
From Bipedal to a quadruped
I suppose, depending on how you look at, I have either climbed up or descended, the food chain recently. I guess, technically, I have slid down the food chain because, while I am at home alone I have transformed from a bipedal being to a quadruped. We have decided that, since I am so unsteady and shaky on my feet that, when I am at home alone, I should utilize both of the canes that I have at home; so, like one of the performers in the stage production of The Lion King, I have a cane in each hand and away I go. Granted, my 90-year-old grandmother could probably still pass me up, but at least I’m giving it a go and trying to be a little safer. Naturally I’m not as elegant as the Broadway performers in The Lion King—trust me, I’ve seen them, it’s breath taking—but at least this way I will hopefully remain on my feet and not end up sprawled on the floor with rug burn on this beautiful alabaster skin I have been “blessed” with.
Naturally, though, 2 minutes after I type that paragraph I get up to do something without using the canes and go crashing head first into the wall of my bedroom, nearly knocking myself out. It’s all right, you can laugh, I did, it was a bonehead move on my part and I should know better to use my cane, but all I did was turn around to grab my phone and TIMBER!
Naturally, though, 2 minutes after I type that paragraph I get up to do something without using the canes and go crashing head first into the wall of my bedroom, nearly knocking myself out. It’s all right, you can laugh, I did, it was a bonehead move on my part and I should know better to use my cane, but all I did was turn around to grab my phone and TIMBER!
The uncertain world of new medication
Whenever you get a new medication there’s always got to be some sense of trepidation that goes through you: how is your body going to be effected by it, will it help your illness, what are the side effects, how big is this sucker that I’m going to have to swallow, things like that. Thankfully, none of my medications are bigger than a baby aspirin ::wipes fictitious sweat from her fictitiously sweaty forehead:: but I’m not so certain about the other stuff yet. Granted, I’ve only been taking the new medication for barely 24 hours, but it still leaves a lot of room for suspicion and worry—and I’m not even sure that’s a good word to use, worry,—to be creeping around in my head.
I started my morning off with Reglan, a medication that is something along the lines of Prilosec, it’s to get the food moving through my body and not taking a prolonged pit stop in my belly. The only “problem(s)” with this medication is that it can make you sleepy, but it can also cause nausea and vomiting. I’ve proven that I can rival Linda Blair in that department and my accuracy has higher marks than Robin Hood; but it’s a little disconcerting taking a medication that is adding to a problem that I am having all on my own. All day I battled the BLAHs…Frankly, if I had just given in to the weaker side of myself, I could have, and probably still could, walk into the bathroom and empty my gut out of it’s contents without batting an eyelash. However, I am choosing to take the higher and less nasty tasting road and ignoring the nausea as much as possible by popping me some Phenergan. Phenergan in and of itself isn’t all that exciting of a medication…it is used for hyper-emesis (prolonged vomiting…I’m picking up on the lingo), but it can knock me out for a couple of hours, which is nice, because I think that is what is actually helping keep the nutrition in me.
My other new medication, Topomax, is used for migraines and, supposedly, vertigo. So far I’ve had a headache for the majority of the day and I’ve been really dizzy; but I know that there’s an adjustment period when you get new medications, so I’m trying to be positive. But, let me tell you: that Topomax makes everything taste disgusting! I have had to chew so much gum today to get rid of the taste in my mouth! On the bright side, I slept straight through the night last night for the first time in a while, which was nice and one of the side effects of the Topomax is weight loss and we all know that there needs to be A LOT less Christine, so hopefully this medicine will turn out to be a keeper and work on all fronts.
I’ve been trying to maintain the hospital schedule of medication consumption—7am, 2pm, 6pm, 11pm—especially when it comes to the night meds to see if that will help me sleep better at night. It worked last night; so I think I will take my meds at 11pm and then play a few games of Scrabble and then hit the hay.
I started my morning off with Reglan, a medication that is something along the lines of Prilosec, it’s to get the food moving through my body and not taking a prolonged pit stop in my belly. The only “problem(s)” with this medication is that it can make you sleepy, but it can also cause nausea and vomiting. I’ve proven that I can rival Linda Blair in that department and my accuracy has higher marks than Robin Hood; but it’s a little disconcerting taking a medication that is adding to a problem that I am having all on my own. All day I battled the BLAHs…Frankly, if I had just given in to the weaker side of myself, I could have, and probably still could, walk into the bathroom and empty my gut out of it’s contents without batting an eyelash. However, I am choosing to take the higher and less nasty tasting road and ignoring the nausea as much as possible by popping me some Phenergan. Phenergan in and of itself isn’t all that exciting of a medication…it is used for hyper-emesis (prolonged vomiting…I’m picking up on the lingo), but it can knock me out for a couple of hours, which is nice, because I think that is what is actually helping keep the nutrition in me.
My other new medication, Topomax, is used for migraines and, supposedly, vertigo. So far I’ve had a headache for the majority of the day and I’ve been really dizzy; but I know that there’s an adjustment period when you get new medications, so I’m trying to be positive. But, let me tell you: that Topomax makes everything taste disgusting! I have had to chew so much gum today to get rid of the taste in my mouth! On the bright side, I slept straight through the night last night for the first time in a while, which was nice and one of the side effects of the Topomax is weight loss and we all know that there needs to be A LOT less Christine, so hopefully this medicine will turn out to be a keeper and work on all fronts.
I’ve been trying to maintain the hospital schedule of medication consumption—7am, 2pm, 6pm, 11pm—especially when it comes to the night meds to see if that will help me sleep better at night. It worked last night; so I think I will take my meds at 11pm and then play a few games of Scrabble and then hit the hay.
Bruises, Medicines, and Exhaustion
Today was definitely a battle of the wills: my body’s will and my mind’s will. I think, at the end of the day, my body ended up winning out because I am paying the price of having had a long day. I feel as though I have been run over by a semi-truck, which then backed up over me, just to make sure I was nice and squished, because running over me once wasn’t good enough…just a little salt in the wound.
My day started off with a visit with my primary doctor, Dr. M. I like her; she’s very attentive and concerned about me. We even had a laugh over the fact that, out of all the patients that she sees, she remembers the date of when my illness began. That just shows the staying power I have in my doctor’s mind…though, that may not generally be a good thing, but I’m trying to take it as a positive. At any rate, she was impressed with the fact that I have somehow managed to keep my nutrition level JUST inside the normal range, despite barely being able to eat anything. I told her that it’s common sense and a nurse for a mother, but I know the real reason is God! She ordered more blood work and continued me on with a couple of the meds that I have been taking for a while that help a smidge; at least they take the edge off of the vertigo and the nausea. Then it was off to Target to do a little time-wasting shopping before I saw my Neurologist, Dr. H. He changed one of my meds to one that he says that he really likes and has proven to help with migraines and vertigo. It was kind of like “why didn’t you just put me on that in the first place?” moment but I took it in stride and smiled. So we’ll see how that medication pans out. This is really his last ditch effort before I decide to ask for a 2nd opinion. This has been going on for almost 3 months and, while I’m a patient person, there’s only SO MUCH patience that I can have when it comes to feeling the way that I do.
Next came time to go get some lab work done. What a lark that was! My veins are a mess because of my stay in the hospital, my nutritional status, and my hydration level. I have bruises up and down both arms from the IVs that I had in the hospital…I look like a druggie, but I know the real reason I have the tracks on my arms. The one on my right arm is a dilly! It’s my favorite! It’s the most color my skin has had in years! Lets be frank: I’m whiter than any member of the Cullen family or any of the Volturi put together, so having a nice bruise on my arm gives the illusion of a tan! Anyhow, the poor phlebotomist had to bust out a heating pad and thump the snot out of my left hand before she could get a vein good enough to draw blood from…I think she was quite shocked herself at how difficult it was. But, in the end, she got what I was there for and we shall see what the test results show.
After that Mom and I went for a mani/pedi session, most of which I slept through because I was so bushed. I felt bad for my ladies that do my nails because I wasn’t worth much, but my nails came out nice and, since that is what I go in there paying for, that’s all that matters. Then we had dinner at Coco’s and I ate ½ a cup of broccoli soup, but that turned out to not be such a good idea, because I am still paying for that transgression. It’s definitely got my tummy on urp mode, so I’m fighting some pretty serious nausea right now, but I shall prevail! Now I am just waiting for my meds to kick in so that the moment I hit the pillows I am OUT! If I flip-flop too much I will end up being awake for most of the night, so I try to wait until I am cross-eyed before I go to bed.
I have definitely learned my limit. An outing that is anything more than a couple of hours long is not such a good idea for me. I could hardly walk by the time I got home this evening and, considering I wasn’t walking well this morning to begin with, that’s not such a good thing. I guess you live and learn by your mistakes, so I have learned and will keep that in the back of my mind until my body has recuperated.
I think that is all for tonight. I will give one last piece of parting advice: make the last thing that you eat chocolate because when you barf it up, at least it’s guaranteed to be chocolate-y coming back up and makes the experience a whole lot better!
My day started off with a visit with my primary doctor, Dr. M. I like her; she’s very attentive and concerned about me. We even had a laugh over the fact that, out of all the patients that she sees, she remembers the date of when my illness began. That just shows the staying power I have in my doctor’s mind…though, that may not generally be a good thing, but I’m trying to take it as a positive. At any rate, she was impressed with the fact that I have somehow managed to keep my nutrition level JUST inside the normal range, despite barely being able to eat anything. I told her that it’s common sense and a nurse for a mother, but I know the real reason is God! She ordered more blood work and continued me on with a couple of the meds that I have been taking for a while that help a smidge; at least they take the edge off of the vertigo and the nausea. Then it was off to Target to do a little time-wasting shopping before I saw my Neurologist, Dr. H. He changed one of my meds to one that he says that he really likes and has proven to help with migraines and vertigo. It was kind of like “why didn’t you just put me on that in the first place?” moment but I took it in stride and smiled. So we’ll see how that medication pans out. This is really his last ditch effort before I decide to ask for a 2nd opinion. This has been going on for almost 3 months and, while I’m a patient person, there’s only SO MUCH patience that I can have when it comes to feeling the way that I do.
Next came time to go get some lab work done. What a lark that was! My veins are a mess because of my stay in the hospital, my nutritional status, and my hydration level. I have bruises up and down both arms from the IVs that I had in the hospital…I look like a druggie, but I know the real reason I have the tracks on my arms. The one on my right arm is a dilly! It’s my favorite! It’s the most color my skin has had in years! Lets be frank: I’m whiter than any member of the Cullen family or any of the Volturi put together, so having a nice bruise on my arm gives the illusion of a tan! Anyhow, the poor phlebotomist had to bust out a heating pad and thump the snot out of my left hand before she could get a vein good enough to draw blood from…I think she was quite shocked herself at how difficult it was. But, in the end, she got what I was there for and we shall see what the test results show.
After that Mom and I went for a mani/pedi session, most of which I slept through because I was so bushed. I felt bad for my ladies that do my nails because I wasn’t worth much, but my nails came out nice and, since that is what I go in there paying for, that’s all that matters. Then we had dinner at Coco’s and I ate ½ a cup of broccoli soup, but that turned out to not be such a good idea, because I am still paying for that transgression. It’s definitely got my tummy on urp mode, so I’m fighting some pretty serious nausea right now, but I shall prevail! Now I am just waiting for my meds to kick in so that the moment I hit the pillows I am OUT! If I flip-flop too much I will end up being awake for most of the night, so I try to wait until I am cross-eyed before I go to bed.
I have definitely learned my limit. An outing that is anything more than a couple of hours long is not such a good idea for me. I could hardly walk by the time I got home this evening and, considering I wasn’t walking well this morning to begin with, that’s not such a good thing. I guess you live and learn by your mistakes, so I have learned and will keep that in the back of my mind until my body has recuperated.
I think that is all for tonight. I will give one last piece of parting advice: make the last thing that you eat chocolate because when you barf it up, at least it’s guaranteed to be chocolate-y coming back up and makes the experience a whole lot better!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Irony
Here’s a lesson in irony for everyone: you have a girl; all right, a young woman, who has been unable to eat much of anything since the middle of March (the 18th, if we’re being precise), that lives off of water and protein drinks and the occasional barf-friendly food in the house. It would make complete and total sense that seeing food on T.V would make said person queasy or hungry or even upset since she is unable to partake in any kind of food consumption; and yet, she is addicted to watching the Food Channel. In case you haven’t figured it out, that person is me, but it’s true, I’m addicted to watching the Food Channel. I blame it on my Aunt for babysitting me at her house one day and showing me the Food Channel Challenge Show. To see how these bakers, chocolateers, and sugar art experts work their magic in such a short amount of time is nothing less than amazing. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I wish that I could have a little nibble of the cake at the end of the show, but I know what the outcome of that would be, so I don’t even go there.
I’m serious, people; these bakers and such are AMAZING to watch. They are given 8 hours to put together these masterpieces made of cake, chocolate, or sugar of different kinds; and here I am and I can’t even handle a piece of Laffy Taffy without making a monstrosity of it! But, in my defense, I do have false teeth, so that should count for something, right? At any rate, while I was in the hospital I watched the Food Channel a lot and the nurses and my roommate couldn’t believe that I, a person there with eating issues, would be watching the Food Channel. They thought I was some kind of sick masochist or something I think because I wasn’t even holding down Italian Ice, but here I am watching huge tiers of cakes being made with no problem.
Maybe it’s a form of wishful thinking on my part, hoping that I will be able to get my grubby little hands on a piece of cake and devour it without feeling the slightest bit sick (or guilty) for eating it. Or, it could just be a form of escapism for me, distracting me from the situation at hand because my meds aren’t working properly (i.e putting me to sleep). Any way you slice it (pun intended), I have fallen in love with that channel.
Then there’s the WE Channel that features a show called Amazing Wedding Cakes, which is absolutely to die for! If I were rich, I would want a cake made by one of those cake artists, but since I’m not, and I doubt my parents would fork out $5,000+ for a wedding cake (if that day should ever happen ::crosses fingers::), I will settle on whatever is allotted in my budget. At any rate, I digress…Yesterday I watched one company make a wedding cake that looked like a beehive (yes, I said beehive, as in BUZZ BUZZ) suspended upside down from a “tree” made from PVC pipe and iron rods. It was absolutely amazing!
And then you get to Ace of Cakes where this guy Duff runs a bakery. He is such a character and the cakes that he and his team produce are wonderful. Sitting here thinking about all of these yummy shows is making me want cake, but I’ll go take a swig of Pure Protein (my new bestie) and that will solve the problem. Watching these shows, though, makes me realize just how talentless that I am. Here these people make intricate sculptures out of CAKE and I have the talent of a tarnished nickel…which translates into nothing. Unless we can count vomiting with great accuracy as a talent, but I don’t think that would hold up on a resume; I don’t think that many employers are looking for proficient barfers.
So, the moral of the story is: If you come all the way out here to Tim Buk Tu to visit me, don’t worry about eating in front of me…it doesn’t bother me one bit. Chocolate shakes do seem to stay down all right, but other than that, I am okie dokie smokie when it comes to people eating around me.
Food Challenge Show::
Ace of Cakes::
I’m serious, people; these bakers and such are AMAZING to watch. They are given 8 hours to put together these masterpieces made of cake, chocolate, or sugar of different kinds; and here I am and I can’t even handle a piece of Laffy Taffy without making a monstrosity of it! But, in my defense, I do have false teeth, so that should count for something, right? At any rate, while I was in the hospital I watched the Food Channel a lot and the nurses and my roommate couldn’t believe that I, a person there with eating issues, would be watching the Food Channel. They thought I was some kind of sick masochist or something I think because I wasn’t even holding down Italian Ice, but here I am watching huge tiers of cakes being made with no problem.
Maybe it’s a form of wishful thinking on my part, hoping that I will be able to get my grubby little hands on a piece of cake and devour it without feeling the slightest bit sick (or guilty) for eating it. Or, it could just be a form of escapism for me, distracting me from the situation at hand because my meds aren’t working properly (i.e putting me to sleep). Any way you slice it (pun intended), I have fallen in love with that channel.
Then there’s the WE Channel that features a show called Amazing Wedding Cakes, which is absolutely to die for! If I were rich, I would want a cake made by one of those cake artists, but since I’m not, and I doubt my parents would fork out $5,000+ for a wedding cake (if that day should ever happen ::crosses fingers::), I will settle on whatever is allotted in my budget. At any rate, I digress…Yesterday I watched one company make a wedding cake that looked like a beehive (yes, I said beehive, as in BUZZ BUZZ) suspended upside down from a “tree” made from PVC pipe and iron rods. It was absolutely amazing!
And then you get to Ace of Cakes where this guy Duff runs a bakery. He is such a character and the cakes that he and his team produce are wonderful. Sitting here thinking about all of these yummy shows is making me want cake, but I’ll go take a swig of Pure Protein (my new bestie) and that will solve the problem. Watching these shows, though, makes me realize just how talentless that I am. Here these people make intricate sculptures out of CAKE and I have the talent of a tarnished nickel…which translates into nothing. Unless we can count vomiting with great accuracy as a talent, but I don’t think that would hold up on a resume; I don’t think that many employers are looking for proficient barfers.
So, the moral of the story is: If you come all the way out here to Tim Buk Tu to visit me, don’t worry about eating in front of me…it doesn’t bother me one bit. Chocolate shakes do seem to stay down all right, but other than that, I am okie dokie smokie when it comes to people eating around me.
Food Challenge Show::
Ace of Cakes::
Monday, May 10, 2010
Who’d a Figured?
When you’re in the hospital you envision yourself at home, comfy in your own bed, surrounded by familiar things, using the bathroom that you’ve grown to love (if you know my family, 2nd to the kitchen, it’s the place to be), watching cable on T.V, answering the telephone; doing the things you’d always been doing. Today was my fourth day home and I still have not adjusted. I don’t know what it is…how could I possibly be missing that blasted hospital bed with the rod that sits right under your tailbone or the fact that all of the food HAS to be boiled in synthetic cow juices or the nurses and vampires coming at all times of the day and night to pump you up with drugs or sucking out some of your blood? Maybe, after 6 days of that, it just becomes some sort of security blanket or something…If I’m having a bad day, at least medical help is right there.
Today was not such a great day for me. Every time I ate, I got nauseous. I actually tossed my cookies last night and then again this afternoon. It wasn’t huge amounts, but still, I feel myself backpedaling again and I don’t like the thought of that. My routine basically consists of me getting up, eating a little cottage cheese and some yogurt, getting nauseous and taking my anti-emetic medicines, falling asleep, waking up and starting the whole cycle all over again. I am definitely a creature of habit (but, oddly enough, don’t mind change), but this is getting crazy! I do try to venture outside, but I’m so unsteady on my feet that I’m afraid one of the dogs might bowl me over and cause a whole host of other problems. My mom already thinks that my gait is kind of strange, but I don’t know that my Neurologist, little ol’ Dr. H will give a care about that.
I see Dr. H and my primary doctor, Dr. M on Wednesday, to see what they have to say about all of this. How they think the outcome of my hospital stay was, whether I’ve improved more or declined, it’s just hard to say. It’s true, I’m not talking to Porcelain John every two seconds, but I’m obviously still having problems with my stomach accepting food, not to mention I’m still dizzy, off-kilter, and migrainous at times. Hopefully I’ll be able to get my point across clearly to both doctors in regards to the dizziness and balance issues. I just kind of equate them as the same thing, whereas they don’t, so I need to try and make myself more clear, which is not an easy task right now.
Thankfully I am almost done with the Prednizone, which will hopefully mean the body aches will go away with it. My tactic last night of waiting until I was cross-eyed before I went to bed didn’t work out so well, so I guess it’s back to Strategy #1: having my mother put me to bed and rub my back until I fall asleep. It really sucks being 30 years old and having to have my mother put me to bed, but I suppose that just proves how ill I am; besides, there’s nothing like a mother’s touch, so I’m trying to take it all in stride and pray that it ALL goes away.
The best way I could get a picture of the bruise that is on my arm from my last IV (the green past and some of the black is my bruise):
Today was not such a great day for me. Every time I ate, I got nauseous. I actually tossed my cookies last night and then again this afternoon. It wasn’t huge amounts, but still, I feel myself backpedaling again and I don’t like the thought of that. My routine basically consists of me getting up, eating a little cottage cheese and some yogurt, getting nauseous and taking my anti-emetic medicines, falling asleep, waking up and starting the whole cycle all over again. I am definitely a creature of habit (but, oddly enough, don’t mind change), but this is getting crazy! I do try to venture outside, but I’m so unsteady on my feet that I’m afraid one of the dogs might bowl me over and cause a whole host of other problems. My mom already thinks that my gait is kind of strange, but I don’t know that my Neurologist, little ol’ Dr. H will give a care about that.
I see Dr. H and my primary doctor, Dr. M on Wednesday, to see what they have to say about all of this. How they think the outcome of my hospital stay was, whether I’ve improved more or declined, it’s just hard to say. It’s true, I’m not talking to Porcelain John every two seconds, but I’m obviously still having problems with my stomach accepting food, not to mention I’m still dizzy, off-kilter, and migrainous at times. Hopefully I’ll be able to get my point across clearly to both doctors in regards to the dizziness and balance issues. I just kind of equate them as the same thing, whereas they don’t, so I need to try and make myself more clear, which is not an easy task right now.
Thankfully I am almost done with the Prednizone, which will hopefully mean the body aches will go away with it. My tactic last night of waiting until I was cross-eyed before I went to bed didn’t work out so well, so I guess it’s back to Strategy #1: having my mother put me to bed and rub my back until I fall asleep. It really sucks being 30 years old and having to have my mother put me to bed, but I suppose that just proves how ill I am; besides, there’s nothing like a mother’s touch, so I’m trying to take it all in stride and pray that it ALL goes away.
The best way I could get a picture of the bruise that is on my arm from my last IV (the green past and some of the black is my bruise):
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Two Steps Forward…One GIGANTIC Leap Back
We’ve all been sick at some point in our lives, whether it be something simple like a cold or something FAR more nefarious like cancer; but one thing that is common amongst all illnesses is that every time you feel like you’ve taken a step forward toward recovery, you end up, at some point, taking one GIGANTIC leap backwards. Today was one of those days for me.
Yesterday I wasn’t feeling all that well, but it was manageable until it was time to go to bed, which seems to be my nemesis right now, because that is when the body aches REALLY seem to attack. Today, though, all day, was just not good. No matter how slowly or how quickly I stood up it felt as though all of the blood in my body was rushing away from my brain and I was going to pass out. A couple of times I came close to passing out, but managed to keep my composure about me and work through it, but it made it very hard for me to function today. I was so completely off-kilter, I was stumbling around like a drunken person on rollerskates. There were a couple of occasions where I almost did fall, but thankfully I had my cane and was able to remain standing on my feet, albeit very woozily.
And, as if things aren’t hard enough to adjusting to life outside of the hospital where you feel safe in case something goes wrong, my body has to try and remember what it’s like eating solid food. For so long I have lived on water, protein shakes, and Saltine crackers; but now I am eating things like cottage cheese, pears, and graham crackers (and sometimes an egg); which, to the average person does not seem like much, but my body is so messed up that it doesn’t know how to react, leaving me with the most AGONIZING stomach pains. Today it was so bad that it had me in tears, the pain was so bad.
I really am trying my hardest to not complain about what I’m going through, whatever it actually might be, because I know that there are people out there with FAR worse health issues to deal with and FAR worse situations in general to put up with in comparison with me and my nonsense. But I suppose that every now and again you’re allowed to have a selfish moment where you are allowed to do a little healthy whining.
Today I seriously thought I was going to toss my cookies for the first time since Thursday morning, but somehow I managed to hold it in; but that may be what is aiding and abetting my stomach pains, so maybe I just need to give in if I’m feeling that way tomorrow. I’m trying to take it one step at a time, one meal at a time, one nap at a time, just to get through the day without having a complete meltdown. I keep telling people that this is what a recovering anorexic must feel like when they look at food because every time I eat, I start to cry. I’m not worried about getting fat, I’m already there (HELLO!), and I’m just scared about it coming back up and me having trouble getting it all of the way out. I never realized that eating food would be such a daunting task, even though I am taking it slowly. As people have jokingly told me “this is an awfully extreme way of trying to lose a few pounds”.
I just continue to pray that I will get better sooner rather than later, but I know that everything is in God’s hands and according to His time, so I am trying to step back and just let that happen. Hopefully, in the mean time, I am learning whatever it is that He wants me to be taking in and thinking about how I am going to apply it and use it for His glory. As a human, with human flaws, it’s a daunting task, but I am trying to take it in stride and learn and grow from this.
Yesterday I wasn’t feeling all that well, but it was manageable until it was time to go to bed, which seems to be my nemesis right now, because that is when the body aches REALLY seem to attack. Today, though, all day, was just not good. No matter how slowly or how quickly I stood up it felt as though all of the blood in my body was rushing away from my brain and I was going to pass out. A couple of times I came close to passing out, but managed to keep my composure about me and work through it, but it made it very hard for me to function today. I was so completely off-kilter, I was stumbling around like a drunken person on rollerskates. There were a couple of occasions where I almost did fall, but thankfully I had my cane and was able to remain standing on my feet, albeit very woozily.
And, as if things aren’t hard enough to adjusting to life outside of the hospital where you feel safe in case something goes wrong, my body has to try and remember what it’s like eating solid food. For so long I have lived on water, protein shakes, and Saltine crackers; but now I am eating things like cottage cheese, pears, and graham crackers (and sometimes an egg); which, to the average person does not seem like much, but my body is so messed up that it doesn’t know how to react, leaving me with the most AGONIZING stomach pains. Today it was so bad that it had me in tears, the pain was so bad.
I really am trying my hardest to not complain about what I’m going through, whatever it actually might be, because I know that there are people out there with FAR worse health issues to deal with and FAR worse situations in general to put up with in comparison with me and my nonsense. But I suppose that every now and again you’re allowed to have a selfish moment where you are allowed to do a little healthy whining.
Today I seriously thought I was going to toss my cookies for the first time since Thursday morning, but somehow I managed to hold it in; but that may be what is aiding and abetting my stomach pains, so maybe I just need to give in if I’m feeling that way tomorrow. I’m trying to take it one step at a time, one meal at a time, one nap at a time, just to get through the day without having a complete meltdown. I keep telling people that this is what a recovering anorexic must feel like when they look at food because every time I eat, I start to cry. I’m not worried about getting fat, I’m already there (HELLO!), and I’m just scared about it coming back up and me having trouble getting it all of the way out. I never realized that eating food would be such a daunting task, even though I am taking it slowly. As people have jokingly told me “this is an awfully extreme way of trying to lose a few pounds”.
I just continue to pray that I will get better sooner rather than later, but I know that everything is in God’s hands and according to His time, so I am trying to step back and just let that happen. Hopefully, in the mean time, I am learning whatever it is that He wants me to be taking in and thinking about how I am going to apply it and use it for His glory. As a human, with human flaws, it’s a daunting task, but I am trying to take it in stride and learn and grow from this.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
The H-word…Hospital
Last Friday (April 30th) I guess I had finally arrived at the end of my rope. I would imagine ANYONE would arrive at the end of that rope after throwing up nearly every day for a month and DEFINITELY throwing up every day for 10 days straight. It was to the point where I couldn’t even keep down a sip of water, let alone anything of any nutritional value. I arrived in my doctor’s office at 8:30am and was given an IV and a shot of Phenergan (an anti-emetic medication) and left to see if it had any effect…it didn’t. The doctor walked in and I proceeded to upchuck for her, so I was then given two shots of a different anti-emetic medication (Zofran) and, again, left to hopefully recuperate. Sadly, that did not happen. It was then decided that I needed to be admitted into the hospital to get the vomiting under control AND hopefully figure out exactly what the heck is going on with me.
At 4pm I was in my hospital room with the ever-so-flattering blue hospital gowns on and then had another IV inserted into my left hand because the original one was in the crook of my arm and it was hurting, but they left that one in just in case the one in my hand went south…which it did, two days later. Anyhow, the admitting doctor came in and told me I had vertigo and that’s probably why I was vomiting so much, to which I was thinking (no duh!), but politely obliged him and then he left. Dinner arrived: a bowl of beef broth (which I SWEAR is made from a synthetic cow), Italian Ice, apple juice, and Jell-O. I ate a little bit of everything and then my barf bucket got to have some too, so that was the end of that. The nurses loaded me up with all kinds of yummy medicines and I was out…until 1am when the Vampires came (because it’s SUCH a convenient time) to draw some blood. Once they left, I was out again until the nutrition people come bursting through the door screaming “BREAKFAST!”.
Well, breakfast for me was the same as dinner…went in…came out…no big surprise other than I think the nurses were surprised at the speed at which I could take in something and then urp it right back up. I think I should be in The Guinness Book of World Records! If you’re ever in the hospital and put on a liquid diet, request the lemon flavored Italian Ice, that way when you throw up at least you have fresh breath.
That day I met my 1st attending physician, Dr. W. She was really nice and listened to what I had to say, what I had been going through for nearly three months and decided to continue on with the meds that I had been on, unless the Neurologist, Dr. H. decided to change anything. Dr. H. came in later and decided to raise the dosage of a medication that he had put me in about 3 weeks earlier, to see if it helped with the migraines…it didn’t help. That day I received a roommate who was the sweetest lady and really watched out for me because that night or the next, can’t really remember, I had a HORRIBLE night. 4:30 in the morning I woke up out of a dead sleep CRYING, I was in such pain. It felt like my head was in a vice with an elephant sitting on top of it, not to mention that I started vomiting up blue-green stuff that tasted like medicine. My roommate had to push the button for the nurse for me because I was completely unable to do it for myself. The poor nurse started pumping every medication that was ordered for me into my IV because I just would not stop barfing and the headache wouldn’t go away. Finally, after who knows how much medication, I finally passed out and didn’t wake up until they were smacking me awake for breakfast…which came right, back up.
By Sunday none of my doctors knew what to do with me. I guess Dr. H and Dr. W talked with each other and both were completely flummoxed as to what to do with me. Dr. W decided that I needed to have an Endoscopy, a procedure where they put a scope down your throat and check out your esophagus, stomach, and duodenum. That evening they had to call in a special nurse called a PICC Line nurse; they are ones that specialize in putting in central lines for cancer patients, to put in a new IV for me. He used an ultra sound to do it, because my veins were so small that they were hard to find. He wanted to avoid putting it in my upper arm, but was forced to put it in my bicep on my left arm when the vein in my forearm was not cooperating. So come Monday morning, I’m hauled off to G.I (Gastrointerology) to have the procedure. I had that procedure once before and the doctor did not sedate me enough and I was awake for part of it, so I made sure that the doctor I had that day was going to KNOCK ME OUT! He did a good job because I remember very little of it and it wasn’t that bad, so Dr. P did a good job! Only thing is, there was nothing wrong with any of those body parts, which is good, but adds to the frustration factor. Then enters Dr. A…That man walked into my hospital room a couple hours after the Endoscopy and made it sound like if I kept down one meal, I was going home! And then dinner arrives and it’s HUGE chunks of chicken! I haven’t eaten solid food for a month and he wants me to eat THAT?! The only thing I could do was burst into tears and demand that the tray be taken away. It was ridiculous!
The next morning Dr. A walked in and I let him know that I was not happy with him at all. I am not a very assertive person, it’s not in my nature, but I put my foot down. He asked me if I wanted to go back to liquid foods only or continue with real food. I told him real food, but in BABY STEPS! For crying out loud, not 24 hours earlier I had been hucking up Italian Ice!!!!! Thankfully that was the last time I saw Dr. A and Dr. C replaced him. At any rate, Dr. H, the Neurologist came in and decided that he wanted to put me on a high dose of Solumedrol, a very potent steroid because he had heard that it helps migraines. The catch: it makes your blood sugars go through the roof. So for three days I received the steroids and had to get insulin shots in my tummy 5 or 6 times, which is not big deal.
On Wednesday I ate breakfast and then my barf bucket got it, but I kept food down the rest of the day, but by that time the IV the PICC Line nurse had put in was starting to go south, but I kept it in one more day. Thursday morning I ate my breakfast and back up it came, along with some Prednizone. Then they called in an anesthesia nurse to insert a new IV, which she did on my right hand, but the gauge wasn’t big enough, so they called in a PICC Line nurse again and I had my 5th IV inserted into my right forearm. Then, about 3 hours later, I was told I was being discharged. Apparently keeping down 2 out of 3 meals was good enough to the hospital staff. I made it known that I was not happy and that my family wasn’t very happy either, but it didn’t really make a difference to any of them.
So here I sit 2 days after a 6-day stint in the hospital with bruises up and down my arms, weak, barely eating, and hurting EVERYWHERE. My mom thinks that it’s the Prednizone that is making me hurt, but I am telling you, it is EXCRUCIATING pain. My mom actually had to rub my back last night until I fell asleep, that’s how bad it was because I was BAWLING! I have a VERY high tolerance for pain, I’ve had to adapt, considering the knees that I have, so when I cry because I am in pain, you KNOW that there is something wrong. If you’ve ever been to my house you know that the walk from the living room to my parents’ room is not that far, but I made that trip last night to take a shower, with help from my mom, and by the time I got back to the couch I totally passed out. My mom woke me up and had me sit on the toilet so that she could dry my hair, but then when I went to bed all I could do was cry because I hurt so much.
I want to make it to church in the morning and go to my Aunt’s tomorrow for Mother’s Day, but I just don’t know if I have the energy to make the walk from the shuttle to the sanctuary and back again. I’m trying to think positively, telling myself that if all else fails I’ll pass out at my Aunt’s, but I just haven’t decided whether or not I have the energy to do any of that. So, if you see me in the morning, hug gently, but don’t be afraid of me, I won’t break, there’s still too much of me to do that! I’ve lost around 25 pounds from this illness, which, on the one hand is a good thing, but not a really healthy way of going about it.
After all of that time in the hospital, no real diagnosis has been achieved. It seems that the Neurologist has come around and realized that it is something neurological, he just doesn’t know what…yet. I see him and my primary doctor on Wednesday, so we’ll see what everyone has to say. Parts of me think that, even though I am holding down small amounts of food, they let me go too early, but I’m trying to take it slowly when it comes to food and moving around so as not to upset my innards.
ALL OF MY IVs:
At 4pm I was in my hospital room with the ever-so-flattering blue hospital gowns on and then had another IV inserted into my left hand because the original one was in the crook of my arm and it was hurting, but they left that one in just in case the one in my hand went south…which it did, two days later. Anyhow, the admitting doctor came in and told me I had vertigo and that’s probably why I was vomiting so much, to which I was thinking (no duh!), but politely obliged him and then he left. Dinner arrived: a bowl of beef broth (which I SWEAR is made from a synthetic cow), Italian Ice, apple juice, and Jell-O. I ate a little bit of everything and then my barf bucket got to have some too, so that was the end of that. The nurses loaded me up with all kinds of yummy medicines and I was out…until 1am when the Vampires came (because it’s SUCH a convenient time) to draw some blood. Once they left, I was out again until the nutrition people come bursting through the door screaming “BREAKFAST!”.
Well, breakfast for me was the same as dinner…went in…came out…no big surprise other than I think the nurses were surprised at the speed at which I could take in something and then urp it right back up. I think I should be in The Guinness Book of World Records! If you’re ever in the hospital and put on a liquid diet, request the lemon flavored Italian Ice, that way when you throw up at least you have fresh breath.
That day I met my 1st attending physician, Dr. W. She was really nice and listened to what I had to say, what I had been going through for nearly three months and decided to continue on with the meds that I had been on, unless the Neurologist, Dr. H. decided to change anything. Dr. H. came in later and decided to raise the dosage of a medication that he had put me in about 3 weeks earlier, to see if it helped with the migraines…it didn’t help. That day I received a roommate who was the sweetest lady and really watched out for me because that night or the next, can’t really remember, I had a HORRIBLE night. 4:30 in the morning I woke up out of a dead sleep CRYING, I was in such pain. It felt like my head was in a vice with an elephant sitting on top of it, not to mention that I started vomiting up blue-green stuff that tasted like medicine. My roommate had to push the button for the nurse for me because I was completely unable to do it for myself. The poor nurse started pumping every medication that was ordered for me into my IV because I just would not stop barfing and the headache wouldn’t go away. Finally, after who knows how much medication, I finally passed out and didn’t wake up until they were smacking me awake for breakfast…which came right, back up.
By Sunday none of my doctors knew what to do with me. I guess Dr. H and Dr. W talked with each other and both were completely flummoxed as to what to do with me. Dr. W decided that I needed to have an Endoscopy, a procedure where they put a scope down your throat and check out your esophagus, stomach, and duodenum. That evening they had to call in a special nurse called a PICC Line nurse; they are ones that specialize in putting in central lines for cancer patients, to put in a new IV for me. He used an ultra sound to do it, because my veins were so small that they were hard to find. He wanted to avoid putting it in my upper arm, but was forced to put it in my bicep on my left arm when the vein in my forearm was not cooperating. So come Monday morning, I’m hauled off to G.I (Gastrointerology) to have the procedure. I had that procedure once before and the doctor did not sedate me enough and I was awake for part of it, so I made sure that the doctor I had that day was going to KNOCK ME OUT! He did a good job because I remember very little of it and it wasn’t that bad, so Dr. P did a good job! Only thing is, there was nothing wrong with any of those body parts, which is good, but adds to the frustration factor. Then enters Dr. A…That man walked into my hospital room a couple hours after the Endoscopy and made it sound like if I kept down one meal, I was going home! And then dinner arrives and it’s HUGE chunks of chicken! I haven’t eaten solid food for a month and he wants me to eat THAT?! The only thing I could do was burst into tears and demand that the tray be taken away. It was ridiculous!
The next morning Dr. A walked in and I let him know that I was not happy with him at all. I am not a very assertive person, it’s not in my nature, but I put my foot down. He asked me if I wanted to go back to liquid foods only or continue with real food. I told him real food, but in BABY STEPS! For crying out loud, not 24 hours earlier I had been hucking up Italian Ice!!!!! Thankfully that was the last time I saw Dr. A and Dr. C replaced him. At any rate, Dr. H, the Neurologist came in and decided that he wanted to put me on a high dose of Solumedrol, a very potent steroid because he had heard that it helps migraines. The catch: it makes your blood sugars go through the roof. So for three days I received the steroids and had to get insulin shots in my tummy 5 or 6 times, which is not big deal.
On Wednesday I ate breakfast and then my barf bucket got it, but I kept food down the rest of the day, but by that time the IV the PICC Line nurse had put in was starting to go south, but I kept it in one more day. Thursday morning I ate my breakfast and back up it came, along with some Prednizone. Then they called in an anesthesia nurse to insert a new IV, which she did on my right hand, but the gauge wasn’t big enough, so they called in a PICC Line nurse again and I had my 5th IV inserted into my right forearm. Then, about 3 hours later, I was told I was being discharged. Apparently keeping down 2 out of 3 meals was good enough to the hospital staff. I made it known that I was not happy and that my family wasn’t very happy either, but it didn’t really make a difference to any of them.
So here I sit 2 days after a 6-day stint in the hospital with bruises up and down my arms, weak, barely eating, and hurting EVERYWHERE. My mom thinks that it’s the Prednizone that is making me hurt, but I am telling you, it is EXCRUCIATING pain. My mom actually had to rub my back last night until I fell asleep, that’s how bad it was because I was BAWLING! I have a VERY high tolerance for pain, I’ve had to adapt, considering the knees that I have, so when I cry because I am in pain, you KNOW that there is something wrong. If you’ve ever been to my house you know that the walk from the living room to my parents’ room is not that far, but I made that trip last night to take a shower, with help from my mom, and by the time I got back to the couch I totally passed out. My mom woke me up and had me sit on the toilet so that she could dry my hair, but then when I went to bed all I could do was cry because I hurt so much.
I want to make it to church in the morning and go to my Aunt’s tomorrow for Mother’s Day, but I just don’t know if I have the energy to make the walk from the shuttle to the sanctuary and back again. I’m trying to think positively, telling myself that if all else fails I’ll pass out at my Aunt’s, but I just haven’t decided whether or not I have the energy to do any of that. So, if you see me in the morning, hug gently, but don’t be afraid of me, I won’t break, there’s still too much of me to do that! I’ve lost around 25 pounds from this illness, which, on the one hand is a good thing, but not a really healthy way of going about it.
After all of that time in the hospital, no real diagnosis has been achieved. It seems that the Neurologist has come around and realized that it is something neurological, he just doesn’t know what…yet. I see him and my primary doctor on Wednesday, so we’ll see what everyone has to say. Parts of me think that, even though I am holding down small amounts of food, they let me go too early, but I’m trying to take it slowly when it comes to food and moving around so as not to upset my innards.
ALL OF MY IVs:
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