Archive for the ‘illness’ Category

Doctors can kiss my ass…

I’m fed up. I’ve had it up to HERE with constant probing, testing, poking, prodding, cutting, gouging and I don’t just mean on my physical person on that last one — I’m in deep with medical bills. As some of you already know I’ve been quite ill since the early part of the year. I’ve had to change my diet entirely, stop drinking (although I had one drink here and there and regretting every minute of it afterward) and I basically am worshiping the organic food (organic EVERYTHING) gods.

After constant pain, nausea, dizziness, fatigue and feeling like hot pokers are in my stomach, I still have no answers. And now I’m facing the dilemma of having a laparoscopy which pretty much sounds like THE most invasive surgery I can think of involving my lady parts that doesn’t actually involve removing them. And for what? Just to have my doctor trample my flowers while trying to find a weed, as my father puts it. I am tired of the procedures. They never turn up enough to solve my problems. And the doctors seem to just grasp at straws — and my wallet.

I just feel that most doctors are truly disconnected from their patients. They don’t try to fit themselves in your shoes — let alone walk around them a bit and understand what they feel like. It sometimes seems that I’m floating aimlessly in a vortex where no one can reach me or care to. Where I can’t get my feet on the ground. All of this and I’m trying to be a homeowner, which means I’m still unpacking, settling in, cleaning and decorating. And that also means I have been neglecting my love of blogging — and reading them.

What do I do? Do I just go ahead and do another procedure and endure a three to five-day recovery time? Or do I just heal myself…not knowing what exactly I’m healing?

Juicing is saving my life…

Before you report me to the authorities, I actually mean juicing raw fruits and veggies as oppose to jumping on the human growth hormone wagon. It’s funny, I’ve mentioned my recent juicing to friends and I feel I always need to have a disclaimer because of their confused faces. The term juicing USED to be unofficially owned by my recent idol — Jay Kordich, the Juiceman himself — long before Roger Clemens got pegged for a different kind of juicing.

Though I’m typing this blog post from home because I have had a minor setback on my road to getting healthy from sickness that has been a nuisance for several months, juicing has been a lifesaver for me. Because I’ve been to a gastroenterologist so much lately I might as well send her holiday cards, I had to find an alternative to normal eating. I just can’t seem to eat like I used to and I was losing so many nutrients. And leave it to an episode of Oprah featuring a cancer patient giving up her martinis for homeade juices that convinced my mother to hand over her The Juicemancoveted juicer (something I have begged from her for years) earlier this month.

If you aren’t familiar with good old Jay, he is a guy who is obsessed with juicing carrots. But he doesn’t stop there. So far I’ve juiced celery, asparagus, radishes and ginger. My fridge looks like a produce aisle. According to his book, and his fame, Jay cured himself of life-threatening illness with juicing. I suppose he was more popular more than a decade ago, but I’m sure he still looks as youthful as he does on the cover of his 1992 book and he was in his 60s when he wrote it.

Being that food has been an evil for me, I’ve had to get pretty creative with this juice stuff. I’ve mixed some crazy concoctions. And I’m convinced that if I hadn’t at the time of my mother’s generosity, I would be a lot more sick than I am today. I know I sound like an infomercial right now, but I was surely a person who didn’t really get into the whole raw food craze. But I will have to say, it’s been a true help on my way to recovery. Now if I can just get my doctors to figure everything out before I turn orange from all that carrot juice.

Another aside: Booze and I are officially over. The world looks really different sober.

Up the pooper, down the hatch

So the colonoscopy and upper scope are over. They have diagnosed me with hemorrhagic gastritis and reflux esophagitis. They found a polyp in my stomach which is being tested as we speak. And through all this, I didn’t even get ONE CALL from my supposed boyfriend. Doped up on anesthesia, I sent a text:

I had my procedure today. You didn’t even call to see how I was. OK. I get the hint. I’ve let you go. I hope all your dreams come true. I wish you had said goodbye when I asked you to…

I’m still in a dopey fog, and I don’t want to go into that “goodbye” reference. Point is, he didn’t even respond. I was worth THAT much?! After he took me to Vegas, had me meet his family and wanted a committed relationship, I wasn’t even worth the call. What is funny is that everyone else did. Even an old friend I had become kind of estranged with and hadn’t talked to in almost a year. She has been wonderful and checks up on me.

The irony is I would have never got everything checked out like this if I hadn’t got so sick while I was in Vegas. It’s not my fault I haven’t been as fun anymore — I am a shell of my former boozing good time self.

Maybe all this was/is a blessing in disguise. Everything happens for a reason (and other crappy cliches). Or maybe life just sucks.

 

When life is too short…

I woke up this morning to yet another dream about a person who is no longer in my life. I tend to have the most bizarre and telling dreams but I never know what to do with them. In this particular instance, each time this person appears in my dreams, she is filled with mind-numbing illness and doesn’t really speak to me. She just sends these subtle cues I still don’t understand.

In reality, we are no longer friends. My habit here of blogging ended our friendship. Thing is I’m just someone who thinks with emotions. Whether or not that is a good thing, it has always has been a fault/trait/whatever part of me  and for the most part, I don’t really mean to hurt a soul unless they have hurt me. In this case I hurt someone unwillingly, unknowingly and in fact stupidly innocent in a comment to someone else’s blog…

Fastforward to now and I can tell you I recently received an email at work (of all places) from a person to my knowledge she no longer wants to have a thing to do with. He tracked down my work email and I didn’t appreciate that. I also didn’t appreciate that it was to ask me about what had happened to her. Why she wasn’t responsive…

He stated that he had received an email from her husband to leave her alone and that she had been in the hospital. It troubled me. She is often not well. And I didn’t know she had become that ill. I let him know that no longer having the friendship was painful enough, but to actually email me and tell me she had been in the hospital was even more tough. I told him I don’t have his answers of course and it wasn’t even my place to tell him if I even had them. The nerve of this man. I told him to never contact me again. And I told him to do the same of her. To leave her alone. In peace.

No matter what hurtful words said and mostly written between us, I will never stop caring what happens to the friend I have lost even if I’ll never really know what is happening in her life. I can only hope she will be well.

I’ll never really understand. And it’s no longer for me to know.

To live a life without regret is brave. I could sit here like many people I’ve heard time and time again and say I don’t regret a thing. I’m not that brave. I know there are things in my life that I would change. But the key is to let it go if you can’t change them.

It’s strange how the holidays make us all so sentimental. I just keep thinking how short life is…