Category Archives: Personal stories

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Don’t think about bears

Flickr - Furryscaly - Not a Hypnotoad

Flickr – Furryscaly – Not a Hypnotoad (Photo credit: Wikipedia)  This has no connection to my post but WordPress thinks it is.

Note:  I showed my scans and the report to someone.  I do not have a tumor or cyst.  I still need a CT to rule out some scary options but the things that were causing my panic attack yesterday are off the table.

 

I dare you to try it.  For the next five minutes, don’t think about bears.

Hard to do isn’t it?  The minute someone tells you not to think of something, that’s all you want to think about.  At least that’s how it works with me.

If you think it’s hard to not think about bears, try that exercise with brain tumors.  That’s been my challenge since yesterday.  Last week I had an MRI (with and without contrast) and MRA (same) done on my brain.  The initial report was that the MRI was normal but the MRA too unclear so more testing needs to be done.  Then I got a call from my neurologist.  She said in her message that it was “critically important” that she speak with me.  When we talked she said she saw something on the MRA that “probably isn’t a tumor” but more testing needs to be done.  I am getting a CT angiogram next week.

Someone told me, “Just don’t think about it.”

Yeah, that’s going to work.

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In Boehner we trust

Official portrait of United States House Speak...

Official portrait of United States House Speaker (R-Ohio). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We will not go over the “fiscal cliff.”  That’s my prediction anyway.  I don’t make predictions often.  As I often tell people, I am NOT clairvoyant.  I cannot read minds or see the future.  I do have pretty good political instincts, probably from working in or near politics for 90 percent of my life.  I am no Chuck Todd but not too far away.

In any case, I do not believe we will go over the all too arbitrary and Congress created “fiscal cliff.”  This is partly because President Obama was reelected.  It was partly because the Democrats kept the Senate.  With that in mind, our collective future rests in the hands of one man; Speaker of the House John Boehner (R-Oh).  Yes, the man who refused to use the word “compromise” on national television last year will be the one who forces his caucus to do just that.

First I need to have my own “Sister Souljah moment” (she once had an office down the hall from mine at RCA Victor, true story).  The Tea Party makes for a great target as to why Washington seems incapable of getting anything done but they are a response to that inaction, not the cause of it.  Our Congressional districts are becoming more and more polarized, resulting in more and more extreme representatives — remember, Congress is very much a mirror.  If you don’t like what you see in Washington, you probably don’t like what you see when you look around you.  It’s become too easy to blame one group or another for our collective failure to pay attention and act on what happens.

So, here we are.  On the brink of yet another economic crisis.  Europe has already gone back into recession (And we think that same austerity will work here?  Are we that stupid, Joe Scarborough?).  The great menace that is China has an economy that is slowing down.  I am no economist but running a government on nothing but stop-gap continuing resolutions is not a way to run a government, when exactly was a full round of appropriations bills passed?  Yeah, if you have to scratch your head at that one it has been too damn long.  See?  I am still a bitter cynic.

Yet, because Boehner is the speaker of the House and not someone like, I dunno, Eric “Dr. No” Cantor or Paul “I ran the marathon in under a minute” Ryan.  Take home message:  he is reasonable.  Now, I would like to have a second “moment.” I believe that everyone who gets into public life is a patriot.  Maybe a power hungry, egomaniac but also a patriot.  I do not think Cantor or Ryan want to see the country fail, I just don’t think they are seasoned enough to understand the value of compromise.

Who is this John Boehner?  His upbringing is nothing like Mitt Romney‘s.  He has 11 siblings.  He grew up in a two bedroom house.  Yes, that’s right 14 people lived in a house with two bedrooms and one bathroom.  He started working in his father’s bar when he was eight.  If anyone gets the hardship brought on by recession, it’s John Boehner.  He currently rents a basement apartment on Capitol Hill (really, his favorite restaurant is my favorite Italian place on the Hill).

Now I am no fan.  In 2007, I worked a communications director for a Democratic member of Congress.  One night there was a vote at about 1:00 am (we were still in the office, eyes glued to C-Span.  The Democrats still had the House then and the man in the Chair was a D.  He called the vote wrong — some members had not voted when he thought they had.  It was bad.  Steny Hoyer called for the vote to be held a second time and it was but the Republicans stormed out.  The bill they disliked passed.  The next day Hoyer asked Boehner to hold off on going to the Ethics Committee until they had looked into it.  Boehner agreed (this was on the floor) but had actually already submitted a complaint with that committee.  For years, that just got my craw (is that a real phrase?).  Seriously, I thought that was crazily underhanded.  Now, I have forgiven him.

What else do you need to know about John Boehner?  He tried to lead a “coup” against Newt Gingrich.  He smokes enough that you can smell him from a block away.  He is a really conservative guy, though religious conservatives complain he is motivated more by small government conservatism than the issues that matter to them.  I am not sure how he could be more conservative on same sex marriage, abortion and other things but I am not a social, fiscal or any kind of conservative so I am not the one to judge that.  The conservative Cleveland Plain Dealer wrote this about him. The Plain Dealer says Boehner can “disagree without being disagreeable.” We need more of that in the world but even that is not going to save us from fiscal armageddon.

We will avoid the “cliff” because John Boehner is reasonable.  We will lose the Bush tax cuts for people making over $250,000 a year or more.  We will lower corporate tax rates but raise the top two rates to what they were under President Bill Clinton (you remember those horrible recession years, oh right, we had a great economy then) to 36 and 39 percent.  We will make a pledge to deal with entitlements, though the actual changes won’t happen right away (sorry young people, the retirement age will go up, if not this year, sometime before you retire. Seriously, it has to.).

Don’t worry family, I am still the bitter cynic you know and love.  Don’t believe it?  I still wear only black.

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Being uncoordinated can be fun!

Note: medical update is at bottom.

Central Park, New York City, Winter: The Skati...

Central Park, New York City, Winter: The Skating Pond, 1862 by Currier and Ives. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Reader Emmawolf asked, “I love the concept of a favorite injury. Is this because the story behind it is your favorite?”  That got me thinking about my favorite injuries…  These are in no particular order.

That hip thing I mentioned.  When I was growing up, I used to spend Christmas in Minneapolis with my all too active family.  If I didn’t know better, I would think they were actively trying to kill me as many things they took me to do were things they did all the time but I did rarely.  Case in point, cross country skiing.  I would do it when I visited them but they did it daily.  They would always want to do the hardest trails, when I asked about this Roger told me “at least this isn’t the MOST dangerous trail, just snow plow if you cannot stop.”  The last hill of the day had a “most difficult” sign and was just before the parking lot.  You cannot “snow plow” on ice or on a 45 degree angle.  I wiped out to avoid crashing into an SUV.

We also did a lot of ice skating on ponds.  They were great but being natural, they had divits in them and were not smooth at all.  When I was about ten, I was skating on a pond and must have hit one but I went flying and landed on my hip.  It hurt like crazy.  I was sure I was bleeding.  I played it off like I was fine (more embarrassed) and checked it when I got back to the house.  The result was a bruise that remained totally black for more than a year.  Years later, an xray would reveal that I had chipped my hip at some point.  That’s the only time I hurt it so I am going with it happened that day when I was ten.

Why is it a favorite?  First of all, I loved ice skating.  I love all the sports I played with my family.  I plan to teach a friend to play tennis for that very reason.  Secondly, I was a total Tom boy and relished all my scrapes and bruises. It made me feel all tough that I never sought out medical help for this.  And lastly, it reminds me of a time when I wasn’t the medical oddity that I have become.  The main reason is number 1.  I miss being that active.  It inspires me to work towards being that active again.

My goofy injuries are just silly.  I have a scar on my left knee that, combined with my knee surgery scars looks like :].  I got it in a crazy ping pong accident.  Yeah, you read that right.  A ping pong accident.  Additionally, I have soldered my fingers together (twice), been knocked unconscious in wood shop class, dislocated my shoulder body surfing (was too focused on losing my bathing suit top to care) and just last night walked into a door going to the bathroom in the middle of the night.  These make me laugh and remind me that life without whimsy is just not worth living.  Best part of these is that none really hurt because I was laughing so hard.  I was pretty good at shop class but whenever someone glued their fingers together, the teacher assumed it was me.  For the record, it was my high school lab partner, not me, who got her melted goggles stuck to her head.  I was the one who fell asleep in chem class and fell out of my desk but I never glued my goggles to my head.  At least not in high school.

You think you’re getting my bag?  Ok, you are but I am going to injure myself first!  My right index finger is crooked because it was broken when I was struggling with a mugger to keep my bag.  The strap broke and he took off.  I took off after him and caught him.  He threw some dirt at me (note: this means he had no weapon, I should have pounced).  Bitch, stop following me!  Me: But you have my bag!  He then hit me with something, probably my own bag and I woke up in the street (concussion number 6?).  I ran in the direction he had been going in to find a cop sitting in his car at the end of the street.  When I told him what happened he said, are you sure you were attacked?  PSA of this post, sarcasm does you no favors in this situation.  I responded, No, I normally walk around with my face covered in dirt.  It’s the latest fashion trend, straight from Paris and Milan.   Seriously, he was not amused.

This reminds me that I do stand up for myself when I need to.  And that I am an idiot. Never chase someone who just mugged you.  There’s a time and place to be a hero, that isn’t it.

Medical update:  I was hoping  to have real news about the scans I had today but I don’t.  I had MRIs and MRAs (magnetic resonance angiogram) done of my brain today.  I hoped they would give me some information but they refused.  I have to wait to talk to my doctor next week.  Oh, and I know that headaches + seizures + vision problems + language issues can = brain cancer.  I also know that this is really, really, really rare.  I only mention that because of the number of times I have been asked, You don’t have a brain tumor do you?  I sure hope not!  I also really don’t think I do.  If there is anything on my brain that should not be there, I should know early next week and will post something as soon as do.

PS.  Thank you, social media.  I have a tendency to keep to myself when I am upset about something and recent events have only made me want to do that more.  I mean, who wants to be out and about while they are having seizures and trouble speaking?  Not me.  By opening up here, I have received some amazing support and it has inspired me to not give into my hermit instincts.  That has made a huge difference.  Thank you to everyone who has read my posts, responded to my tweets and generally made me feel a whole lot less alone and freaky.  It has meant more to me than I ever will be able to tell you.

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Je ne parle plus anglais.

This is me kissing the Blarney Stone. When one kisses it they are given the “gift of gab.” Yeah, until recently, I had that. Oh, and that’s the crasher squirrel with me.

My recent brain issue has caused me a lot of trouble communicating.  As this is not only my favorite thing to do — communicate I mean, I write, I talk (a lot), I read — this has been troubling.  Along with the memory problems, nothing has scared me more than waking up unable to talk or write.

I feel like one of the patients on that show, Mystery Diagnosis.  People on that show have baffling symptoms that force them to go to multiple doctors before, sometime decades after the first symptom appeared, they are cured.  Usually really bad symptoms are prefaced with “Nothing could have prepared them for what happened next…”  My life has felt a lot like that lately.  First, it was seizures, then the realization they had been happening longer than I had thought and may be the cause of other problems (memory, speaking, writing), then I started having massive headaches that started in the morning (when I was asleep) and gradually faded during the day, then it was visual problems (only my left eye but it can be nearly impossible to see out of it when it is bad) … Every day was starting to make me worry about what troubling new thing would happen next.

I don’t know if it is a symptom of whatever is going wrong in my brain or the stress of this all but nothing could have prepared me for what happened the other day.  (You don’t know this because you cannot see me but I mean that in a little tongue in cheek kind of way, that’s what people in comedy call a ‘call back.’)

My cat — Little Cheddar Jameson — is a stressed out feline.  He gets very upset with the mirrors or other reflective surfaces in my apartment and has taken to waking me up between three and six in the morning fighting with one in my bedroom.  I have taken to responding by yelling at him.  The other day was no different only when I yelled at him to stop I yelled, “Tu es de la merde!  Tais-toi!  Je doit dormir!”  This didn’t seem odd until I went to fall back asleep and all of my thoughts were in French and I could not think of any English words.  Not a single one.

Now, one of my next thoughts was that I really need to work on my French vocabulary because it has been a while and mine is pretty limited right now.  I resolved to practice it more.  And I will.

Eventually, I fell back asleep and when I woke up, things were back to normal but that was very, very strange.  So now, if you run into me on the street and I am either very quiet or speak only in French, you know why.

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With my medical diagnoses, as in life, the third time really is a charm

Magnetic Resonance Imaging / Résonance magnétique

Magnetic Resonance Imaging / Résonance magnétique (Photo credit: www.cihr-irsc.gc.ca)

When Goldilocks tried that first porridge it was too hot, the second was too cold and the first was just right.  The same can almost be said about my experience talking to neurologists over the course of the last few weeks.

When this all started about a month ago I went to my primary care doctor who sent me to neuro doc number 1.  There are two schools of thought in medicine; paternal where the physician dictates a course of action to a patient who dutifully follows it and fraternal where the physician and patient work together.  Given my huge problem with authority figures (wonder where I got that?) the former just pisses me off.  Neuro doc number 1, was absolutely firmly in the paternal camp.  She told me, “You have had two seizures therefore you have epilepsy.  You will get bracelet, you will wear it.  You will fill this prescription and take it.  You will refrain from driving, biking, swimming, taking baths, climbing trees (seriously, what am I? 10?) or ladders.  Avoid stairs and escalators if you can.  Sleep with a mat next to the bed.  Go directly to epilepsy jail.  Do not pass Go!  Do not collect $200.”  Ok, she didn’t say the last part but you get the gist.  Not only did she talk to me like an errant child but she scared the crap out of me.  I am already scared, I don’t need more fear from my health care provider.

Neuro doc #2 didn’t really see me officially but is someone I know.  He didn’t mean to scare me as much as he did, he just wanted to make sure I went ahead with certain tests that I had been blowing off (but the MRI and MRA are scheduled for next week and I have a host of other tests over the next few weeks.  Yes, I am moonlighting as a guinea pig).  He told me that I had to get the MRI & MRA to rule out certain things one of which scared me so much I am not even going to tell you what it was but I am pretty sure I don’t have it.

Meanwhile, I have been reflecting on my symptoms. Communicating is very important to me and it has been a challenge a lot this year.  Sometimes, I cannot find the right word, a problem I never have, other times I can’t speak at all.  I had thought this was laryngitis — and some was — but when I have that I can whisper, when I have this I cannot.  (Good news on that front, can’t talk for whatever reason?  There’s an app for that!  I have Speak it!  on my iPad now.)  Then I stared having seizures and then headaches and now some strange visual thing that only impacts my left eye.  None of this is good or normal.  Time for another doctor.

Enter Dr. Rhanni Herzfeld.  I told her my history and what’s going on now.  I explained, as best I could, my long health history and told her about all the concussions.  She said there just isn’t enough information to properly diagnose me with epilepsy or anything else.  She said she wants to run the battery of tests that are now all scheduled before doing that.  She is really kind and took all sorts of time to talk with me.  She didn’t lecture me on all the things I shouldn’t do or make me feel like a freak of nature.

I may be back at square one but compared to where I was earlier in the week, square one is not a bad place to be.  I have found porridge that is just right.