We’ve Got a Live One Here

Just as a reminder, this is the very first few lines of my slimmed-down, to-the-point profile:

*******I’M ALLERGIC TO:********

– Hookups, FWB, DTF

Got a message from a guy with a picture of a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
Him: Interested in something casual?
Me: In the first line of my profile, I said I’m not into FWB or DTF.
Him:  Okay. I just found you attractive and wanted to make sure I wasn’t an exception. I will leave you alone.

Did you catch that? I’m not sure if he thought he could be the exception because he found me attractive (is it too much to ask that every man who wants to bang me finds me at least moderately attractive?), or if he thought waving his penis as bait was going to change my mind, because so many men don’t think to do that?

This also seems to be a case of, “Oh, you don’t really mean ‘no.’ I mean, there’s no way you could actually know what you want, because you haven’t met my penis yet.”

Editor’s Choice: Valentine’s Weekend is Filled with Bad Patients, Big Butts and Crazy Pregnant Ladies

Happy almost-Valentine’s Day Patient Worthians! What are your plans for this weekend? It’s a special holiday– Valentine’s Day, designed for romance! But let’s face it, chronic disease isn’t always sexy, so maybe use this weekend to show your loved ones how much you appreciate their unconditional love and support. This week we have an inspiring story about…

Source: Editor’s Choice: Valentine’s Weekend is Filled with Bad Patients, Big Butts and Crazy Pregnant Ladies

You Spin Me Right ‘Round, Baby, Right ‘Round

Okay, I admit it: These words together make absolutely no sense to me. However, they keep popping up as a successful search phrase that someone is using to plug into a search engine and then be directed to my site:

“fragile handle with care name that porn”

No, it’s not two phrases – “fragile: handle with care” or “name that porn.” It’s all of those words mashed together. I suppose the fact that I am posting the phrase to call attention to it is also going to lead that party back here a third time, but seriously, weirdo, that’s messed up. A phrase that is normally used to ship expensive art work doesn’t normally immediately precede a phrase about porn. Porn isn’t fragile. I actually dislike a lot of porn that’s floating around because it always looks like the women are in pain. They do their best to hide their discomfort and disgust because they’re trying to make the big bucks, but at the first sign of acting, I lose my lady boner. Maybe it’s not the naming part you need to worry about, Anonymous.

I got another voice mail from Nashville. His voice sounded all hang dog, like “Gosh, I’m real sorry.” (Make sure you say that sentence in your mind with a twang, so all of the words are at least two syllables – “ree-yawl”). Oh, wait, that’s what he actually said. Then he followed that up with, “I know I didn’t call you (“yee-ooo”), I just got real busy with work and all (“aw-wall”).” Nashville ended the message saying he wanted to talk to me. Now I’m just flat out irritated that he is going back to his original lame excuse. Did he think I wouldn’t recognize it? Did he think I’d forget that I know he has a minimum of 3 days off each week, and which days those are? Now I know I can’t call him back, because I’m going to talk to him like he’s a flat out idiot, and he’s not going to like it. Oh yes, I’ve made grown men cry, usually because I don’t take their shit.
Lastly, I got a text on Tuesday night/Wednesday morning at about 12:30 a.m. from Hidden Creeper (https://thesickandthedating.com/2016/02/04/crouching-tiger-hidden-creeper/) saying, “Sweet dreams.” Wednesday night at about 9:30 pm I wrote back, “Thanks, you too.” He must have been waiting for my reply, because it took him two seconds to respond with, “Good night babe I want to see you :|”

Here’s the problem with technology: it’s a lot easier to analyze the shit out of everything that appears in front of your face in writing instead of having to improvise with someone in person. I had already established that he does not respect women’s boundaries since he couldn’t honor my repeated requests to not be addressed as “cutie.” Now he’s calling me “babe” as if we have actually exchanged bodily fluids, when in reality, I’ve never met him. Also, he’s making it sound like we had a couple of dates and he is now pining for me. Sorry, Hidden Creeper, your texts and phone calls are now going to be hidden from me permanently (unless I’m looking for entertainment, then I’ll peruse my spam files).

12 Facts About Autoimmune Diseases That Will Make Your Hair Stand On End

I have three autoimmune conditions and now that I have a diagnosis of Lyme, I understand that will probably trigger a huge autoimmune response episode. Discovery of etiology is not done; I hope that researchers and doctors are doing their best to identify the triggers and effectively treat patients.

nikolenordljos's avatar

1. Autoimmune disease has grown to be a bigger problem than cancer and heart disease.

ArrowsUp.jpg

Collectively, autoimmune diseases are the most prevalent disease in the United States. According to the National Institutes of Health or NIH, 23.5 million Americans have an autoimmune disease. In comparison, cancer affects up to 9 million and heart disease up to 22 million.  23.5 million is a very modest estimate of autoimmune disease sufferers when you consider that it is a grossly underdiagnosed disease.  Considering this as well as the fact that the NIH only looked at 24 autoimmune diseases out of over 80, well-respected authorities such as the American Autoimmune Related Disease Association or AARDA, estimates that the number is more accurately near 50 million.  That’s 1 in 5 people.

2. Despite the fact that autoimmune disease is an obviously growing epidemic, doubling in the last three decades, it is being kept a secret.

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What I Know, What I Don’t Know

Okay, first of all, a very specific search appeared on my radar yesterday: “Indian sites for compression hose fetish.” Hats off to your freak flag flying proudly, whomever you are. Also, hats off to wanting your objects of desire not to have to suffer from varicose veins. I’m sorry that my mention is probably repeatedly bringing you back to my blog; I wish you luck.

Second, I got a diagnosis.

I’m going to start where I think I should, and that is May of 2009. I was living with the very controlling and very violent Drummer #2 in a beautiful 3 bedroom/2 bath on a man-made lake. My friend who is a CPA and has taken care of my taxes for 16 years as of this year flew down from Cincinnati. Drummer #2 was on the verge of nearly smashing my head with a drinking glass, but I didn’t know it. He made me feel like absolute dirt because my friend was visiting, so much that the friend had to stay at a hotel rather than in the spacious home we occupied.

My friend rented a car so that we could run around the state of Arizona, and most importantly to the Grand Canyon. We hiked down into part of the canyon; it was not easy for me because I had already had fibromyalgia since I reached adulthood, but I did my best to keep up. I was so happy that my friend had made it down to visit, even though the nastiness of Drummer #2 put a damper on things. Drummer #2 didn’t accompany us and that was absolutely fine with me. I wanted to be able to relax. My friend flew home and life went back to walking on eggshells to try to not make Drummer #2 angry – which proved impossible. The week after that trip was when everything went down with the asshole and I moved out in a hurry.

Fast forward to October of 2009: I went to the emergency room because I developed a stiff neck and excruciating pain. Every time I moved my neck I cried. I didn’t sleep for four days and was starting to hallucinate. The ER doctor had no explanation for me because I didn’t have any other symptoms like a sore throat or a fever. He sent me on my way with muscle relaxants. The pain didn’t abate for a full week.

Around the same time, the naturopath I was seeing started documenting new symptoms for me, mainly that I had a constant rocking feeling, and I was always nauseated. We tried different remedies including Dramamine, but nothing even made a dent.

Have you thought up a diagnosis yet? Just wait.

In July 2010, I developed crushing fatigue. I drove over to San Diego mid-month to spend time with a man from Germany who made yearly trips to Comic-Con, the big one. I struggled to walk a few blocks between my hotel and nearby restaurants. He was used to walking up to ten miles a day; I felt a bit ashamed because I felt as if I embodied the lazy American stereotype. I was also plagued by deep bouts of vertigo to the point where I nearly fell down an entire outdoor cement staircase.

During the last week of the semester at school in July, I had to drop out and not take any finals. Fatigue and vertigo ruled my life. My parents were concerned because I spoke like a zombie, no intonation – very unusual considering I was a theater major in school. My speech was slurred, the top portion of my face became paralyzed, and my head began to nod uncontrollably. Because my body was under so much stress, my cortisol levels shot up to ten times the normal amount.

Have you guessed it yet?

In July of 2011, I finally started getting relief from the pressure in my head because a neurosurgeon installed a shunt. However, I had a total of 10 shunt surgeries in 46 months because my body fights them, clogs them, breaks them, strangles them. I have had horrible abdominal pain since July 11, 2011, because that is the first day a drainage catheter began living within my peritoneum and my small and large intestine, and there is a war being waged 24/7.

46 doctors and two states later, a naturopath in Saint Paul suggested I get some blood tests for Lyme disease. I ended up having to pay full price for them up front because they were not covered by insurance/medical assistance. I will admit that I didn’t think I had Lyme but I just wanted to rule it out like I had done with everything else up to that point. Two of the tests had inconclusive results; the third one lit up like a motherfucking Christmas tree.

I have late stage aka chronic Lyme, and have had it for nearly seven years. It wasn’t on anyone’s radar. Why should it be? I didn’t have a bull’s eye rash. I lived in Arizona, a state with a very small tick population compared to other states. The CDC has very strict guidelines about what can be reported for Lyme and I may not fit their parameters; however, I am still going to contact the state health board and let them know I was infected while I was a resident in the state. I think that only 8 cases have been reported to the CDC for Arizona. I don’t even know if they will take my data because I was diagnosed based on antibodies specific to bacterial exposure, and they only want tests showing the bacteria, which may not be detectable because of the time that has passed.

I know that most of the doctor visits and labs are not covered by insurance, so I will truly be destitute in short order. They are not covered because insurance companies and even the government get bucky about late stage/chronic Lyme, sometimes refusing to acknowledge it exists. There are now temporary laws in place in Minnesota that allow physicians to prescribe antibiotics far longer than they have before, for years instead of months, and the law is set to expire in 2019. I feel like my diagnosis is sitting on the cusp of being dismissed and being accepted. I don’t know how they will deny that my facial paralysis ties into the positive results on the blood work, but I’m sure they’ll find a way to tell me I just need counseling. It wouldn’t be the first time I heard that.

I don’t know what will be irreversible with the neurological problems when treatment starts. I think the facial palsy and ptosis may go away. I think the tremors will take years to adios if they stop at all. The left side of my body has lost some sensation. For example, when I am descending stairs, I have no concept of the pressure my foot exerts on the steps (and vice versa) and so must go very slow. I have been doing exercises to counteract the bed rest and try to gain some of the muscle I have lost, but I always feel like my nerves are disconnected on my left side, and I tire much more easily when I work on that side. I’m also having some cognitive difficulty including word recall. As I type, I fight to spell words correctly – I have developed some weird form of dyslexia. If you knew how particular I am about spelling, you would be as alarmed as I am. Sometimes it takes me a dozen tries to write single words correctly that would have been a breeze previously. Ultimately there is a 50/50 chance that treatment will work, and it may take years to get any positive results.

Besides notifying the board of health in Arizona and Minnesota, I have decided to write letters to my team of doctors in Arizona to let them know about the diagnosis. I am not trying not to think in terms of, “Oh, if only someone would have tested for Lyme, I wouldn’t have had to have 10 brain surgeries.” Honestly, the disease has really fucked up my body, and it’s possible I would have needed the surgeries even with the right diagnosis.

If my symptoms do abate, I’m going to have a serious conversation with some neurosurgeons about removing the current shunt. It has adhered to my chest and the abdominal pain is still constant, and I just think I would have an easier time without it. However, that also leaves me more vulnerable to CSF leaks – and I don’t ever, ever want that pain again.

Lastly, I don’t know if this is a “rare” disease. The data is poor. On a survey of health, chronic Lyme rated the worst for quality of life as outlined in this article – worse even than congestive heart failure, multiple sclerosis, fibromyalgia, diabetes and depression. In other words, I truly won the shit cookie.

Chronic Lyme Disease

 

What to Say to Death (Talking to my Dad when he could only listen) – By April V. Walters

Some fantastic points to remember and carry with you, even if you think you don’t need them immediately. Death is a part of the life cycle. If you are lucky enough to be able to have a conversation before that option is taken out of your hands, use that time wisely.

Kindness Blog's avatarKindness Blog

One of the synchronicities of life is that when my Dad’s cancer returned my sometimes boss, Wendy Macnaughton, was Artist in Residence at the Zen Hospice Project.

We talked in her studio one afternoon and she mentioned that in the hospice center volunteer training program there’s a set of phrases that might be helpful to me. She could only remember a few of them, so I got home and googled. What I found was a handful of blog posts based off the idea of Hoʻoponopono,

“an ancient Hawaiian practice of reconciliation and forgiveness.”

Artist - April V. Walters

Included in this idea is a list of phrases. Things to say to a dying person: Thank you. I love you. I’ll never forget. I’m sorry. Forgive me. I accidentally wrote forgive me as “I forgive you” but I’m glad to have had both.

I put those words on a post-it and stuck it…

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Speak Easy

Last week Friday, February 5th, Nikki (http://ilivebreathe.com/) and I had our first chat on Blab. The agenda was to talk about toxic people, the diverse challenges we face when interacting with them, and when to let them go. The recording went much longer than we planned at 1 hour 45 minutes, but if you are interested, here is a link to the show:

https://blab.im/82740adeac204a028576bc288ef25703

We decided to come back this week with another show, and this time the topic is self-care. What do you do to bring yourself back from the pit of despair? Do you allow yourself to laugh or cry? If you have seen the movie “Amelie” (French with subtitles), you know that each character is assigned a list of things that seems like a very simple pleasure. Amelie’s father likes to take all of his tools out of the toolbox, clean out the box, and very carefully put the tools back in. A patron at the eatery carries a mini tape recorder with him everywhere, and then records unusual laughs. Amelie likes to stick her hands into barrels of dried peas.

What do you do to make yourself feel better about your circumstances?

Join us on Blab for a discussion on self-care; we’ll start at 6 pm EST/3 pm PST Friday, February 12th.

https://blab.im/nikkiseefeldt-sickadilly-chat-2-self-care-strategies-rare-dis-disability-chronic-illness

Someone Needs To Get Their House In Order: A Follow-Up

People enter a hospital to treat a disease, not to acquire one. Chipotle is doing a major overhaul in their disease prevention practices to make sure more customers don’t become gravely ill. If a restaurant can do it, so can a hospital.

Nikki's avatarAs I live And Breathe

One of my friends from Twitter passed me this link this morning.  I do not cry easily but after I read it I was in tears because I was so upset for Che Duvall  (& his family) whose trust & care was violated by this center.

Transplant is hard enough without dying from preventable risks like this & suffering needlessly for months. His center did wrong by him (& by the three other patients whose trust was so flagrantly violated).

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Super Bowl Sunday will feature another powerful anti-domestic violence PSA

Domestic violence happens in all financial demographics from the poorest of the poor to the richest of the rich. Domestic violence is a part of the lives of the football players and their domestic partners, first because they take their violent sport home with them, and second because they have repeated blows to their head that cause permanent damage (CTE – chronic traumatic encephalopathy). When you watch the Superbowl, just keep in mind that a portion of those players are going to go home and punch, kick, strangle and humiliate their partners while you eat chips and talk game highlights and best commercials.

Source: Super Bowl Sunday will feature another powerful anti-domestic violence PSA