Normally when I sit down to write a post I might have a glass or two of wine, perhaps a margarita or a double shot of whiskey to nurse as I ease into my collective thoughts and try to relax with who I am and what I am trying to say. Weed isn't really a go to for writing because..... shiny things.
At the beginning of this month I was, to quote at least one doctor, "in dying mode" and things have been different since.
Not like dramatic I'm-now-a-vegan-and-peace-be-with-you-saint, but more humble. More angry. More selfish. More empathetic. More chronic pain and exhaustion. Literally, more bitchy with a shorter temper. More thoughtful and more willing to ignore what I now deem a 'waste'.
When I was 21 my mother got a call from California that my father died. He was 47. I can count on one hand the times I remember spending with my dad but he was always a there/not there presence in my life as many non-participant fathers are in their daughters lives. Such a mystery to me the bonds I didn't grasp between dad and daughter. Like having a sibling that was mentally/physically handicapped, it was so foreign to me to try to understand what it was 'supposed' to be like to have average. Normal. I did know he drank. A lot. Drug use, likely. What I didn't understand at the time of his death was he was ONLY 47 and he had cirrhosis.
I was violently ill for a week at the beginning of this month and tried to work a couple of days which only kept me down further for exerting myself. No insurance and limited funds with a sense of "this too shall pass" kept me from visiting a doctor to rule out infection that was surely thriving under the 102.5 fever I rocked for four days. The fever passing, the chills abating I went about my life as usual until two days later when I was forced to admit I HAD to go to an urgent care that Saturday for the amount of blood that was in my urine, the exhaustion I was feeling, the fever that wouldn't go and the chills that wouldn't stop. Diagnosed with a urinary tract infection, that I really didn't think I had, I was given a prescription for antibiotics and sent on my way.
Antibiotics that I had a severe reaction to that I forgot about a few years prior.
Now normally I wouldn't forget something as severe as this but mind you, I had a fever for a week, little sleep, mentally I was breaking down, a lot of confusion.
I awoke on the following Monday and knew that with the onset of barely being able to walk, I had to drive myself to the emergency room. Before it was going to get worse.
I listed to triage my symptoms, the schedule of events as they had been happening, the medications I was taking, was prescribed and what I thought was going on. It was like being cross examined and at the same time finding my blood pressure was 70 over 80 causing the staff to wonder if the machine was broke or maybe check it for a fourth time. Admitted with remarks as "kidney trauma" due to the blood in my urine, possible gastrointestinal distress due to the chronic cramping stomach pain, vomiting and diarrhea I had been having and even had remarks made to me of 'withdrawal symptoms' as with using an array of unknown cold medicines and stomach medication, I had meth show in my toxicology screen. I cried instantly given how adamantly opposed I have always been about the drug itself and my mothers history with abusing it.
By the time I was being admitted my tremors were uncontrollable and almost seizure like, there were hallucinations and I could not walk on my own. My lymph nodes in my throat were so swollen I could barely swallow and anything that had any flavor burned like acid coated razor blades in my entire mouth. When I went to use the restroom, I had tears come for the pain that burned like nothing I had ever felt before just from urinating.
Umpteen bags of i.v. fluids and just as many bags of antibiotics would ensue over the next six days along with blood draws every two hours, making me drink this horrid potassium chloride every few hours (really wasn't that bad, it just was the burning and the pain with swallowing I found later). It was noticed I was developing jaundice with yellowing of the eyes and I was talked to about my liver enzymes being just over 500 while 'danger' zone levels begin at 200. Ultrasounds, brain scans, MRI's and 5 specialists such as neurologist, rheumatologist, gastroenterologist, so much blood work.... and none could say for sure what the hell was happening to me. I developed edema so painful in my legs I had to have morphine every three hours and had to request assistance to use the toilet as I was a risk factor for falling being that I was weak and the tremors kept me from being stable. Four days minimum without food of any kind and only able to sip water in tiny amounts. Even things like chicken broth burned like acid and I could barely open my mouth to attempt to eat mashed potatoes when food was offered. The good news? The antibiotics I was being given over the ones I was allergic to were actually working. Little by little I was feeling better. Less shaking. Less pain. Less hallucinations. Better able to support myself walking and feeling that desire to just fucking get through this. As this whole time this is occurring, I am missing two weeks of work. No insurance, no paid days off, no reserve money, so much stress and heaviness... I had no choice but to get better and get out of there just to go back to work so I could survive.
I narrowly missed having a liver biopsy that I was scared to death to have, which now I wish I would have had because now I have to play the insurance game and not only get approved for insurance through the state but have a referral to a specialist to get this accomplished. I was released on the sixth day with liver enzyme levels being at 200. None could say for certain what was going on with my body but labeled as a 'post viral infection' with possible liver disease brought on by acetaminophen toxicity from the cold and flu meds I was pumping into myself. I lost 20 pounds in three weeks that not only can I not gain back but am slowly still losing more. I now only have pins and needles as a pain feeling in my legs and feet from the knees down. I have a constricted chest breathe that causes almost a level of panic from the pain I receive taking deep breaths or yawning. I develop edema in my legs from standing and I walk like a 70 year old woman because of the pain that is chronic. At times like walking with a charley horse. Sciatic pain that stops me cold with a sharp inhalation of my body saying "DON'T DO THAT MOVE THING" and I have lost over half of my hair. It literally slides off my body and I fear touching it for more loss. Every joint in my body a swollen pain center. Restless sleep that I get out of bed for just because I can't lay there in pain any more. Issues with regulating my body temperature and a noticeable loss of muscle mass.
I can't even take an Ibuprofen to calm my inflammation.
Major life changes are going to be happening. Are happening and I don't know exactly where I am going or what I will be doing but listening to my instincts is a definite. I feel like I awoke with a stronger sense of anti-bullshit tolerance. I am seeing people I thought were one way, in a totally different light. I am standing up for myself more and extending myself differently. I am less tolerant of being a convenience and I am so very much over being walked on. Again, scrolling through facebook memories, I am confronted with YEARS of being miserable with someone I assumed loved me and supported me and even seeing his comments of self righteousness and making me feel like I was the one to blame for not being enough, doing enough.... it makes me feel violent. So angry I was treated that way for so long. That not only I allowed it but allowed myself to be gas lighted. At work I am a new force to be reckoned with. I am not allowing people to take advantage of my good nature anymore. In social I am leaving behind those that are emotionally unavailable because I am so tired of extending patience to those that can't even respect themselves.
I'll be there should it be needed but I refuse to be taken for granted anymore.
I'm not ready to die and I would like to start living on MY terms for once instead of everyone else's.
