3768 Back

Saturday, September 28, 2013

If fifty million people say a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing.

--Anatole France--

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A little over three weeks ago my back went out.  It's sort of ok now, finally, a bit touchy in the mornings, warning signals not to get fancy, ok by afternoon, but three weeks ago, for more than a week, I was hobbling around all bent over, with a walking stick to pull me upright, wearing the brace, afraid to carry a cup of tea from counter to table.

I've had that almost all my life.  It's a birth defect exacerbated by repeated trauma.  It's been worse.

Things are more complicated now, though.  The urologist I fired last January seemed to think I was careening headlong into full kidney failure.  He was so full of crap on so many other things I decided not to believe that, either.  But, uh, what if he was right for once?

It scares me a little that I can't tell the difference between pain in the kidneys and nerve pain from my lower back.  Actually, there IS no difference, since it's the same set of nerves screaming.  And there is such a thing as being in too much pain to go to the doctor, especially when there's a high probability it is just the pinched nerve and there's nothing they can do for it, except put me through more useless pain figuring that out.

I guess the only way I can be sure I'm not dying is that ... I'm getting better.
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3763 Chobani

Thursday, September 5, 2013

"If we let people see that kind of thing, there would never again be any war."

--senior Pentagon official on reasons why United States military censored footage

showing Iraqi soldiers sliced in two by U.S. helicopter fire.--

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 Back in early August of 2011, I posted about finding mold in containers of Chobani yogurt, and how some were swelling and fermenting.  I got a comment on one of those posts from a Chobani rep offering an explanation ("no control after it leaves our facilities") and offering me coupons for more of the stuff.  A quick internet search back then showed that the problem wasn't confined to that batch, or that store, or that truck - it was pretty common, and all over. 

My take is that I've never seen mold or smelled and tasted alcohol in any other plain yogurt - and I often don't refrigerate my yogurt.  Properly made and handled, it doesn't need it.  That's why it has been popular in hot countries for thousands of years.

(Note - technically, yogurt is the result of a fermenting process, but the agent is a bacteria, and the process is slowed when the yogurt is chilled, or stops when the bacteria has eaten all the sugar in the milk - sort of like bread yeast works.  There shouldn't be any mold, and there shouldn't be any alcohol produced.)

Well, Chobani is in the news now.  The stuff is still (or again?) sprouting mold and producing gasses and alcohol.  Chobani has been pulling containers off store shelves.  They haven't issued an official recall, haven notified the public, haven't notified the FDA, they're just contacting stores and asking them to pull it.  Not all of it, just a certain batch.

They say it's a "mold common in dairy facilities" and not dangerous.

I call BS.  If it's so common, how come I've never seen or heard of the problem with any other yogurt?  Never had a Dannon or store-brand container swell or grow mold even when taken on weekend and longer trips with no refrigeration?  Yogurt isn't supposed to have mold in it!

They've known they've had a problem for at least two years. 

"A mold common in dairy facilities" doesn't worry me as much as what its presence might indicate about their facility and process.

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In other news, my back is out.  I've felt it coming on for the past two weeks, and now I'm wearing the brace and hobbling around with a walking stick, bent over like a crone.  I can't accomplish anything.
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3567 Something's wrong

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Being good at taking tests won't get you very far in life.

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(Snork.  There are a lot of Mensans who need to read the green quote above.  More than a few seem to think that high scores alone should somehow get them acclaim - even though they have accomplished little else in their lives.  In fact, too many are a burden.)

I'm feeling a little like April 2 of 2011, when I ended up in a White Plains hospital for four days, with a nasty kidney. 

I've still got the stone in the left kidney.  It can't be zapped because of my fragile capillaries.  But a plethora of tests over the past year has said it isn't moving and hasn't grown.  That doesn't mean I can't throw another stone, though, or that the right kidney is immune.

I've got that "something's off" feeling.
[But that could be the heat and oppressive humidity.]

I've got a pain in my lower back, in pretty much the same place as in April 2011.
[But I often have pain in my lower back, that's normal.  And it does seem to be sensitive to posture, which in theory the kidney wouldn't be.]

I keep feeling like I have to piddle and poop, just like in April 2011.
[But I ate a quinoa mix late Thursday that's given me all kinds of problems ever since.  Probably the dried onions in it.  It's been pretty obvious that my body wants to get rid of every trace of it.  The flatulence has been incredible, like an enormous blast every 15 minutes yesterday.]

I don't have any blatant nausea or fever, but my stomach does feel off.  For one thing, it's hanging out and I can't hold it in.  I don't want anything around my waist - not even panty elastic.  It feels like there's a rock inside, just above the navel.  And I'm not interested in food.  I feel like I've got a lump in my throat and a tiny touch of acid reflux.
[Well, ice cream sounds good.  Maybe it IS the heat and humidity, and the remaining effects of the quinoa.]

I feel blah, and I'm hoping it has nothing to do with the kidney. I'm hoping it all goes away pretty soon.
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3523 Jasper says "No room at the inn!"

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction.

-- Blaise Pascal --

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In my March 26 post, I asked if any rich or famous people had died waiting for a transplant - name one. (See also this post for the explanation as to why rich people rarely wait too long).  A commenter pointed out that Robert Goulet had died waiting for a lung.  I just found out that he died exactly one month after a diagnosis of idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis.  He very likely wasn't strong enough for transplant within two or three weeks of the diagnosis, and didn't have the time or strength to travel to get on more than one or two lists, so ... I don't think that counts.  My challenge stands.

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Contrary to the advice I give others, I almost adopted another stray cat last week.

Three days in a row a young, probably no more than 5 months old, unaltered male tabby visited my front porch.  He was absolutely beautiful!  A rich reddish gold and cream swirl-type tabby with enormous dark gold eyes that matched his coat perfectly.  Pink nose.  He was very friendly, allowed petting, and he was very very thin.  His little waistline was pinched. Otherwise looked healthy.  No collar.

I offered him some dry food, and he gobbled it up.  Three days in a row he visited briefly in mid-afternoon, ate some kibble, sat with me on the glider while I read, and then went off to explore.  I seriously considered adopting him as a strictly outdoor kitty.  I was planning his vet visit and collar color and tag info and everything.

On the fourth day I saw some young teen girls walking up the road.  One of them was carrying MY cat.  He now had a collar on.  He seemed perfectly happy, rubbing his cheek on her neck.

Saved by the belle.

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My back is still complaining, but not at all like over the weekend.  I can sit, stand, and walk just fine, but I get warnings when I lift things or bend wrong.  It'll be ok.
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3522 Back

Saturday, April 28, 2012

Lying is not a sin.  It’s a business plan.

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I hate when you're watching a movie on TV, and you have to jack up the volume to 50 to be able to hear it, and then a commercial comes on and the blast sets off the car alarm in the garage.

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I went up river this past week.  I put a lot of heavy stuff in the van on Wednesday, small pieces of furniture and boxes of papers and books.  I was a little worried about the effects on my back of wrestling it all out of the old house, but Thursday and Friday my back was fine.  So Friday I made dozens of trips up and down stairs carrying loads of stuff.  Friday evening my back went out.  I am now wearing the brace off and on, and walking all twisted into a corkscrew.

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Daughter and Hercules have set up a measuring board in their kitchen.  Heights of Mommy, Daddy, Gramma, and the Nugget  are now marked on it.

For much of my early adult life I'd been 4' 11".  A decade or two ago I went to 4' 10", and until yesterday that's what I always wrote on forms.  I am now a hair under 4' 9".  Under!

That's downright scary.  I've lost more than two inches since my early 40s, and I've never had that many to spare.  I think I've lost the latest inch just in the past two years, because suddenly things I had hemmed not all that long ago are too long.  Slacks seem to be unaffected, but dresses and caftans are dragging on the ground, which would indicate I've got spinal compression in progress.  (Yes, I do stand straight. I have to, to protect my back.)

This is not cool.

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There's not a single cloud in the sky today.  A most incredible blue.  A half-moon is visible directly opposite the sun.  I wish I could enjoy it.  Mostly I'm standing in a hot shower, the massage setting directed on my lower back, or lying on the floor.

It's weird, but if I consciously tell myself to relax my back, I can move easily and the pain lessens.  As soon as I forget, it clenches up and hurts.  I guess the medical community refers to that as guarding.

Relax, relax, relax.
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3413 Swimming to Australia

Monday, December 5, 2011

It's impossible to learn what you think you already know.

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I think I was depressed for the past month or two. It happens occasionally. I never recognize it until it's passing. Not a clinical depression, if you know what I mean - a situational depression. I didn't want to go anywhere or do anything. Even the grocery store. Didn't want to get dressed. When I ran out of stuff I'd stand at the pantry and wonder what I could eat instead. I haven't yet stowed away any of the latest load of clothing and trinkets I'd brought back from the old house.

I finally recognized it a day or two ago, when I noticed I'd been living almost exclusively in the internet. Reading long articles that don't really matter. Looking stuff up that has no meaning. Following Wikipedia links into the hinterlands. It really hit home when I realized my internet shopping was out of control. I do that when I'm unhappy - I buy myself gifts. They have to arrive in the mail, like a surprise, to be a gift.

The slide all started the first week in October, when Hercules was in Ireland, and Daughter's back went out, and I had to rush back from the old house to care for her. I took over the Nugget for a few days, and then when Daughter was able to lift Nugget again, my back went out from lifting Nugget, and being older, mine took longer to get happy again.

Then Daughter got that cold that was going around, the one with the sore throat and copious nasal and sinus congestion, and general raggedness. Nugget was sick, too. So for several days I had Nugget during the day so Daughter could nap, because Nugget was worse at night, so Daughter had been sleeping on the floor in Nugget's room and up and down with her all night.

Nugget and Daughter got better, but then I came down with the snots. It's bad only maybe two days, but my sinuses are scarred from an epic infection in the early '80s, and the sinus reaction goes on and on for weeks after a cold. No infection, just irritation that produces glop that requires horrendous snorts to clear when it thickens and catches on the soft palate, and it constantly sloughs down the back of my throat and makes me cough. And nobody can cough like I can. My coughs wrack my body. Every cough produces a mouthful of glop.

Naturally, my back went out from the coughing.

The Man has been working out of state, but would be in NJ during that time that Daughter was sick. He wanted to get together. When I mentioned the colds, he decided not, saying he catches everything that comes down the pike - which was just as well because the day he would have arrived, I was starting the sore throat and sniffling.

So, right now my back is still delicate. I can finally sit comfortably. No pain, but I feel that warning twinge every time I move. The coughing and snorting has lessened. And now I recognize how depressed I'd been.

I haven't been to the old house since early October. Winter is coming. There's so very much to do. Until I can get it on the market and actually sell it, it's costing me $1,500/month or more in taxes, utilities, and insurance. I can't go when I'm sick or when my back is out. It's so upsetting it has been causing nightmares and insomnia from a churning mind.

And I haven't seen The Man in ages.

I look at photos of me from just 12 months ago and compare them to now, and I have aged a lot. My weight is also creeping up.

Yesterday I sort of woke up a little. I actually did a few things around here.

We'll see....
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3284 Maelstrom

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

There is negative perfectionism and positive perfectionism.
Negative perfectionism is based on a fear of inadequacy.
Positive perfectionism strives for mastery.
-- Silk --

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In the past few days I have experience a maelstrom of emotions, ranging from anger, sadness, discouragement, fear, and disillusionment to joy, happiness, hope, and excitement, and everything in between, sometimes in quick succession and sometimes all at the same time.

Early Monday afternoon I met with the urologist. I had looked up the ESWL procedure scheduled for this Friday, and I had a bunch of questions and concerns, and when the office help said I wouldn't see him before the actual procedure, I had asked for an appointment to talk with him.

When I was shown into his office on Monday and took the seat in front of his desk, before I had a chance to speak he looked at me angrily and said, "You went to the internet! You can't believe anything you read on the internet! It just causes trouble!" or something like that, it may not have been his exact words, but that was the gist of it, and he was VERY angry.

I responded something to the effect that I went to the internet for questions, and have now come to him for the answers. Doesn't matter, I guess. It's obvious he doesn't like questions either. He's Egyptian, I think, has a heavy accent, and I got the distinct impression he doesn't like challenges to his authority. He asked what kind of questions.

So, I sorta blinked twice, and said, "Well, the most important one I guess, is that I have fragile capillaries. Could that be a problem?" His face turned purple, and he said, "Yes. I will not do the procedure. Do you have any other questions?" Well, that response pretty much eliminated the rest. I asked if it was possible that the fragility was only maybe in my skin, not the internal organs, and asked if there was any kind of test, and he said no, no, no, and reiterated that he would not do the procedure. Period. End of discussion.

I asked what next, then? He said we'd take the stent out and then "play it by ear". Those were his exact words. I was dismissed.

I was stunned. On the way out, I stopped at the desk to get the appointment for the stent removal, and was told that the first opening was June 30th.

I pretty much crashed then. June 30th is two and a half weeks away! This useless stent HURTS! It's hurting more every day. And there's no reason for its existence, let alone to be tearing up my insides!

I wanted to cry. I wanted to kill somebody. After all this, there's been no headway. There's been nothing but deterioration since April 2, when they removed a stone blocking the distal end of a ureter, and put the stent in the wrong place.

Driving home, I wanted to cry, but I was too angry to cry.

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You know, I got the distinct impression that it was not so much that I had questions at all, but that I said the words "fragile capillaries". One of the questions always asked is whether you have a bleeding problem or if you are taking a blood thinner. I always answer that I don't have a bleeding problem, I clot well and quickly and I heal quickly (in fact I have phenomenal healing ability), BUT that I do have fragile capillaries. I ALWAYS state that. And if it's not an interview, if it's the checkmark list, I always check "no" on bleeding problems, but then write in "I have fragile capillaries". So it was in my folder right there on his desk. It shouldn't have been a surprise.

(In fact, I suspect it's related to the blowout problem with my veins when anyone attempts to draw blood or set an IV. I just have thin walls, I guess.)

Now , here's the part that angered me more than anything else, more than his attitude, more than having to endure unnecessary pain for another two weeks, more than having no other avenue to resolve this -
I had the distinct impression that if I had not specifically asked, if I had not mentioned it to the nurse and she wrote it down as a concern when I made the appointment and if it had not been overheard by his office staff, no one would ever have asked, he would have gone ahead and done the procedure, and it's entirely possible that I could have started bleeding in and around the kidney, which is a life-threatening emergency. If I lived, I could have lost that kidney. If I had never mentioned it to him, he would have gone ahead and taken that chance!

By my actually bringing it up, he's now open to malpractice if anything went wrong.

And THAT's what made him angry!

That's not a conclusion I came to later. I had that impression right there in his office. Instantly.

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So, I have a double kidney with stones in the lower collection chamber, one of which is blocking the lower ureter, no stones in the upper collection chamber, but a stent in that upper chamber that is tearing up my bladder and doing absolutely nothing else since it's in the wrong chamber, and possibly tearing up the kidney, too, who knows, and I've had only one day in the past month or so that I haven't bled. My stomach is sticking out like I'm seven months pregnant, and it's incredibly tender, there's a nyt-load of edema going on, and since there's all that edema, but the doctor's scale says I've lot four pounds in the last month, I've probably lost a lot more than four.

There's a lump just in front of the urethral opening "down there" which I suspect is the stent poking the bottom of the bladder. It hurts. It hurts when I sit. It hurts when I walk. Imagine a fork shoved up in there, and then the tines are bent every which way, and the handle is hanging out. Now sit, and walk, and bend over. That's what it feels like. It HURTS!

I tell the doctor it hurts. I tell the nurses it hurts. Everybody just shrugs. I don't think they believe me. I tell them I'm bleeding constantly, and we're not talking pink lemonade, we're talking BLOOD! But nobody asks for a urine sample. I think they think I'm exaggerating.

In the meantime, I haven't been able to do anything physical, I haven't been to the old house in months and if I don't get out of there soon I will lose the buyer who's interested, my back and stomach are losing tone, which is dangerous because I need those muscles to keep my spine aligned, and nobody seems to care. Like two and a half more weeks don't matter. And I still have half a double kidney full of stones and blocked. That can't be good....?

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So, that was my status on Monday afternoon.

Late Monday afternoon, I got a call from the urologist's office. They had a cancellation Tuesday morning. Could I come in then to get the stent out?

Uh, yeah.

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So, Tuesday morning. Yesterday. Stent removal. Office procedure.

On Monday, during the unpleasant office conversation, I had pointed out that we still didn't know how the ureters from the left kidney were arranged - whether both ureters emptied into the bladder, or whether they joined into one before reaching the bladder, and that it was important to know that because if they joined, the stent itself could be blocking the lower ureter. I asked if it was possible to actually LOOK into the bladder with a scope, and then we'd know if there was one or two.

Apparently he hadn't thought of that. And you know sumthin'? I think that had a lot to do with the "cancellation". I think I piqued his curiosity.

When I arrived the nurse asked for a urine sample. (The first one in this office.) I filled the little cup with blood. The nurse's eyebrows shot up, but she didn't say anything.

The procedure involved a topical anesthetic swabbed around the urethra, and then a scope was inserted. With men, they use a flexible scope, but with women they use a rigid one (according to the internet - HE didn't say a single word to ME!). There's also a lot of saline pumped in to clear it out and expand things smoothly. The nurse stood next to me and told me what was going on.

The urologist cranked that damn scope all around like he was digging a hole. Then he grabbed the end of the stent and pulled it out. That surprised me. The stent has curls at either end that are supposed to keep it in place, one end in the kidney and one end in the bladder. When it's put in, a guide wire is used to keep the curls straightened out. I had assumed a guide wire would be used to straighten out the kidney end for withdrawal, but if there was any wire used yesterday, I wasn't aware of it. There were a few slight pinches, and a short feeling of heavy pressure, and then it was done.

I think the nurse asked him if he saw a second ureter on the left, and he muttered something about too much edema, so I guess that didn't pan out. I wonder if he'll ever say anything to me about it.

I put my panties back on, and the nurse told me that there would be blood for a few days, that's normal, and some pain and stinging on urination. They gave me a prescription for an antibiotic (Cipro) and a pain killer (Phenazopyridine). Six weeks from now, we need a 24-hour urine collection to find out my urine's chemical composition, and then we'll "play it by ear".

As I was walking across the parking lot, I suddenly realized I was walking without pain. The pain had crept up so slowly, and increased so subtly over the past two months that I hadn't realized how really bad it was until it was gone. Also gone was the pain I'd had in the right lower back, that I'd ascribed to my spine, because it was lessened by changing position. (Now I'm wondering if the stent had been pressing against my spine and had thrown it out of alignment.)

I threw my arms up in the air and shouted, "I'm walking! I can WALK!" I startled a few people.

Since then, I haven't seen a single drop of blood, not from the instant the stent was pulled and I was allowed to empty the saline load. It's a clear pale yellow, like evening sunshine. There was a little stinging when I piddled yesterday, but that's gone. I haven't even opened the pain pills' bottle. (And after reading the info sheet on it, I don't think I'd have ever taken it even if I did have pain. That crap can do some really nasty stuff!)

Of course, I wonder. Is all this pretty urine coming from the right kidney, and the left isn't working? Was all that blood coming not from the bladder, but from the left kidney, and now without the stent it's just building up in the kidney and not coming out? Is there any way I can know?

But I can walk without pain. I can sit without pain. For now, I'm happy.

Later, I'll think about the stones, and the blockage, still there. But not now.
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3245 Stray Stone?

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

We ought to keep the rich as rich as possible, because
nobody poor was ever able to afford to give anybody else a job.
-- Lewis Grizzard --

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You hear that green quote above all the time, mostly from rich people, and from poor people who have been duped. I'm not sure I agree with it. There is such a thing as being so rich that the only jobs you have to offer are menial minimal-income jobs. Petting and pampering. The rich folks that offer real living-wage jobs are those who still have to scramble to support their lifestyle.

If we make sure there ARE no poor, then everyone can buy stuff, and that's what keeps everyone employed.

Sheesh. I sound socialist, but that's not such a bad thing, actually.

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After Sunday's post I went for a walk with Daughter, Hercules, and Nugget. We walked down to the bay, then along the bay until we ran out of pavement, then across some beach (that monster stroller is not fun on sand), to a park (where Hercules and I freaked Daughter out by pretending to give Nugget her first trip down a slide), and then back along some streets. Altogether about 2 miles.

Walking was a bit uncomfortable, because I can feel the stent in the bladder, swinging like a bell clapper. And Saturday evening I had noticed a sort of firm lump under the skin between the clitoris and urethra. I wondered if the stent had moved and was poking. There was no pain, just a slight pressure, like when a tampon is too low. I'm 14 years past menopause, but I still remember that feeling.

Then I took a shower, and went over to the kids' house for dinner, steaks grilled by Hercules.

Something very scary happened in my shower. I piddled before I got in the shower, but I didn't look at it, you know? Sometimes (well, usually, actually), even though I always go before getting into the shower, as soon as the water hits me I piddle a little more.

It was red. Blood. Like Psycho. Swirling down the drain.

It was Sunday. My urologist wasn't in, and not on Monday, either. My first fear was that the stent had poked through the bladder wall, or rubbed a spot raw, or something. If I call anyone, they're going to tell me to go to the ER. But hey, not only is there no pain, but the slight nagging ache I'd had in my right lower back for the past week was gone suddenly! And the firm lump and feeling of pressure were gone, too.

So from then on, when I had to go, I piddled a bit in a glass so I could see what was happening. Later Sunday night there was a bit of pink, but not as much as earlier. Monday morning, it was brown at first, but got lighter and lighter as the day went on. By early evening it was the usual pale yellow.

I think I passed a stone. From the right. Where according to two CT scans and two x-rays, there were NO stones. Which is why I didn't connect the back ache to the right kidney. Ho hum. Par for the course.

Today, Tuesday, I was to call the doctor's office to find out how my kidney function blood test from last Thursday had turned out. It needed to be good in order to have the CT with contrast. I had to leave a message, and the receptionist called back a few hours later to say that it was fine, and I should go ahead and schedule the CT scan. I didn't mention Sunday's blood. I seem to be fine now, and I figure the CT scan should notice if anything's gone flooey. (Yeah, you'd think I'd have learned a lesson by now. They miss a LOT!) I will mention it next time I see him.

Anyway, today I ran a bunch of errands in the morning, then about noonish went with Daughter and Nugget for the two-week OB appointment, then to a wonderful fruit/vegetable/bakery store where we had late lunch/early dinner outside from the deli counter. We got home about 6 pm.

It was funny - Daughter went off the pain meds almost immediately after leaving the hospital, and she's been walking a few miles every day, and taking Nugget everywhere with her, including in the car. Today, the doctor gave her permission to go off the meds, drive, and walk. Snork! If he only knew....

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Ever notice that on CSI and Criminal Minds, whenever the crime involves torturing the victims, it's almost always women who get tortured?
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3220 Ominous Pain

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Make the lie big, make it simple, keep saying it - and eventually they will believe it.
-- Adolf Hitler --

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Well, this is not good. Remember the pain in my lower left back that turned out to be a blocking kidney stone and kidney infection, and landed me in the hospital in White Plains on April 2, where I got a four-day stay and a stent in the left kidney? Today I have a pain in the exact same spot, but on the right.

The appointment with the local urologist isn't until next Thursday.

This might get interesting.

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I mentioned my admiration for the conduct of the Japanese people. Here's an article that says it well: http://www.goiit.com/posts/list/community-shelf-10-things-to-learn-from-japan-1094859.htm
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2976 Oh, about the sick....

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Naturally, the common people don't want war, but after all, it is the leaders of a country who determine the policy, and it is always a simple matter to drag people along whether it is a democracy, or a fascist dictatorship, or a parliament, or a communist dictatorship. Voice or no voice, the people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. This is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger. It works the same in every country.
--Hermann Goering--

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I feel better today. Whatever it was seems to be over. Of course I still feel a little weak, but that's not surprising.

I went to the deli early this evening to buy some diet tea, soda, juice, anything to encourage me to drink a lot, and I mentioned the horrible sweating and the need to rehydrate to the gal at the counter (she was surprised because I rarely buy anything in bottles), and it turns out she'd had something similar about two weeks ago - severe weakness, fever, heavy sweating, but no other symptoms. Hers lasted about three days. Then Daughter said this evening that she had something similar a month ago, including the fainting. Hers lasted somewhere between one and three days (she's not sure because her back had gone out, and she was in bed with that). Mine was four days, but I'm a good 30 years older than either of those two and I'm not as resilient.

So, whatever it was seems to be going around, and probably is not systemic or metabolic in me, which was my greatest concern.

Daughter and I both had our backs go out shortly before the onset. That's interesting. Next trip to the deli I'll have to ask about the third case. Whether we'd been using a high SPF sunblock would be interesting, too. If poison is in your belly, you purge from either end. Maybe when poison is in your skin, you sweat copiously. Seems reasonable to me.
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1290 Pain

Thursday, June 7, 2007

I've mentioned before that I have fibromyalgia. That combined with old badly healed back injuries means I have a constant low level of muscle grumbling or flashing fiery nerve pain somewhere in my body, every day.

Mostly I ignore it.

Occasionally it gets insistent.

It hasn't been as bad the past ten years, which I sort of attributed to lower levels of estrogen or something, but I noticed that sometimes it would flare up again. Like right now - my left palm is on fire, there's a twisty feeling in my lower right abdomen, the left thigh burns, and my left shoulder feels full of gravel.

I think I may have made a connection.

After Jay and I had been married a while, he gradually got me started with supplements, the same things he was taking (fat lot of good it did him...). I currently take mini-aspirin, calcium + Vit D, Vit C, Vit E, fish oil, magnesium, lecithin, and a multi-vitamin without iron. It seems like ever since I've been taking them, the pain level has been reduced.

Lately I've been traveling a bit more, and sometimes I forget to take the week-long pill container with me and then I neglect to start up again when I get home, or it runs out and I neglect to refill it.

Surprise. I'm beginning to notice that after a week without the supplements, I start to hurt again. Hmmmm.

I'm pretty sure it's not the mini-aspirin, because that's the one that runs out the fastest, and I often don't buy more until something else runs out.

It's not worth experimenting to see which may be controlling the whatever goes wrong. I'll just be more careful about being consistent about the whole program.

One place I've already definitely made a connection - because I take the fish oil and lecithin, henna won't stain my skin (well, it won't stay for more than two days). A guy doing henna tattoos at Rakkasah one year told me he'd noticed that, too, that lecithin and fish oil make the skin too oily (note - not oil glands kind of oily - individual cells kind of oily!) But more significantly, my skin is definitely dryer when I haven't been taking them. I noticed my face was very dry this morning.

Excuse me while I go fill the pill case.
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#480 Good, Middlin', and Bad

Busy day today. Good - A few things accomplished. Middlin' - A lot of hurry up and wait. Bad - A lot of pain.

I was awakened this morning by a call from Piper. We'll meet Thursday, early afternoon, to finalize the plans for balancing the portfolio. He wanted to make it lunch, but I have too much other stuff to do that day. Puttered around, washed hair, etc.

Then across the river to the mall to the computer expert to get the scholarship application printed. He also made 30 copies of the 2-page document, and didn't charge me a cent for anything.

That all went so quickly that I was left with an hour before the appointment with the lawyer about the easement, not enough time to go home. So I ate a late lunch/early dinner at what happens to be Piper's favorite restaurant. They have things like $9 appetizers that turn out to be a whole meal. The full entrees there are simply too big for me. I don't understand why they charge $18 for a huge loaded plate. Why can't I get half the food for half that price? Frankly, I think it's a secret way to increase profits. It's like two people eating in one seat, requiring half the waitstaff.

Even with just a shrimp, spinach, and cheese roll appetizer, I ended up doggying half of it.

Then to the lawyer. My appointment was for 4 pm, but I got there at 3:45, and he took me right in. He filled out the tax forms for me (the state apparently considers the granting of an easement to be a sale). I had found a serious error in the survey of the easement - the way they had it written, instead of going up the edge of the lot, the line went across the middle of my front yard and into the neighbor's yard. They had an "E" where it should have been a "W", so the line veered. A little whiteout and a black pen fixed that. He also added a paragraph that maintenance was to be done at no expense to me, and answered my concerns about how the easement contract specified compensation of $1, and there was a separate contract for the brush clearing, which was to be the REAL compensation (if I had to hire someone for that, it would be at least $2,000.) I was out of there by 4 pm, and he didn't charge me a cent.

I'm beginning to wonder why I didn't get a free lunch.

I was left with an hour before I had to go to class, not enough time to go home. So I went to the classroom (an hour+ drive, at rush hour no less) early and spent the time collating and folding the scholarship forms.

The class was 4 hours long. I wasn't sure I was going to make it through it. For some reason, after a few years of hurting in only two or three places at a time, today I hurt all over. It seems to have started last Friday, with pain in my left foot and ankle, left hip, back of my neck, and temples. I've been taking glucosamine condroitin (spelling? I'm not about to look it up!) on May's recommendation. She says it did wonders for her joints, but it takes a very long time to kick in. I also recently increased my calcium supplements on the advice of my doctor. I'm thinking maybe neither of those are good for me with my problems.

I don't metabolize calcium very well, and it can build up in deposits in my joints, and as "gravel" in my muscles. I think that's what's going on in my foot, ankle, and neck. (Yeah, I'm limping on BOTH feet today.) Oddly enough, the deposits usually eventually dissolve themselves. Ultrasound seems to break up the stubborn patches.

Today, in addition to the foot, ankle, and neck, I had screws twisting into my temples and between my eyebrows, my breastbone was on fire, the middle of my back kept biting me, my lower back ached, the left hip burned, lower right abdomen was cramping, and ... whatever. It was so bad I had to do the relaxation breathing several times during class.

There are only three of us in this class, and when the pain got bad I had to keep forcing my eyes to stay open. Didn't want Roman to think I was falling asleep. I kept slumping, and that would set the back off. I forgot there was a guy sitting next to me, and several times I slipped my hands under my sweater and inside the back of my pants to massage my lower back. I wonder if he got a show. After class, Roman said I seemed to "be out of it tonight." Little does he know....

The temple stuff frightens me. I've heard that tic doloreaux can come back, and I never ever want to see that again. I had it on both sides, 4 to 8 20-minute episodes a day, for 18 months. Mine was so severe the doctors at first refused to believe that's what it was. (It was so severe because it was due to a stretched and twisted brainstem - not the usual cause.) And I can't take pain pills stronger than plain aspirin.

When I got out to the van, a little after 10, the van thermometer said 9 degrees. Driving up route 9, I started shivering so badly I couldn't hold my head still (and I was wearing the warmest of my fox jackets!) and it was messing up my neck even more, not to mention that the head shaking was so violent I couldn't see to drive, so I stopped in Barnes & Noble, and bought some books on HTML and web site design. I keep registering for the web site design class, but apparently I'm the only one who wants it, and they keep canceling it, so I'm giving up. I'll figure it out myself, thank you.

Like I said - a good, middlin', and bad day.

I'd like to sleep in tomorrow, but I also want to take more paper to recycle, which has to be done by noon. Compromise - I won't set the alarm.

~~Silk