Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Whew… becoming a grown-up sucks, and yes I’m almost 28, but I don’t consider myself a grown-up… until after I graduate from grad school.
I really don’t know what I want to do after I graduate. I went to ask for a post-doc, partly because that’s what’s expected… I really want to apply for jobs at companies too… but there’s less support for that decision. And its more grown-up-y… and scary… and out of my comfort zone.
So last Thursday I got an e-mail back from a researcher who I wanted to do a post-doc with. She wanted to do a phone interview, but since I was in StL this weekend for the Blues game, I asked to meet her in person. I like that better. So I set up an appointment for Monday *stress!*
So I printed out a gazillion papers to read. And tried not to freak out about not having anything to wear. I figured, heck, no problem. I have tops I just need some new shoes and new pants. My mom was going to go with me… so I didn’t freak out too bad. That came later.
After my mom decided she didn’t want to go, I waited for my friend Krista to finish with work and we headed out. I got some new flat shoes… and then no pants. Went to store 2 and 3 and 4 and 5… no pants! Ack! This was starting to piss me off. Now add pressure and the fact that I needed nice pants… coupled with not being able to find said pants… that fit or looked good… and I tried not to be a crab a$$.
Clothes shopping lately hasn’t been too horrible for me. I found stuff I look good in and I rock it… but job interview appropriate pants… yea… none to be found! I look great in pencil skirts and dresses, so that’s been most of my dressy clothes lately. Pants = jeans. The End.
Friday clothes shopping was a bust, so luckily TJ was more than willing to tag along with me on Saturday. We skipped Mardi Gras so that I could prep for my job interview, and find pants. After breakfast I headed over to a different mall. Stores 1, 2, 3, and 4 were a bust. I kinda started to flip out a little. You can only try on so many horrible looking pairs of pants before you start hating your body.
*Note, I do not hate my body. I should rephrase that to say, “hate the way your body looks in certain clothes.” My nemesis = dress pants! I refuse to say horrible things about my body, its unhealthy, but my thighs just do not look good in flimsy pants. I need thicker fabric to hide the cellulite. Hell I should just invest in Spanx tights to wear under pants if I’m going to have to wear some at work. But back to shopping. After passing by everything… I finally walked into The Limited. Now I’ve never shopped in The Limited before. There isn’t one down here where I live, and in StL I just have better options usually that I go to… But I was stuck, on a deadline and needed pants. Being a new shopper, I didn’t know what size pants I wear there. I’m a size 8 at the GAP. Other stores I fit in size 10 skirts… and yet other stores I wear size 12 pants. I get it. Women can’t rationally design clothes. As TJ put it, “women’s stores size their clothes to get the clientele they want.” So being me, I grab size 10 and 12 pants to try on. I get in the dressing room… not a 10… fine I’m a 12. Try on the 12s… not a 12 either. Now it’s the end of the time I had set aside for shopping, so I put on my big girl panties and went back out for the quick tour of ‘what the heck do they have in a size 14’ round… Not much. Apparently they only go up to a size 14, so my butt was literally almost too big for this store. I luckily found ONE pair that wasn’t horrible, and by that point I just threw my credit card at the lady and wanted to get out of the mall.
There is nothing worse than clothes shopping to bring up all of your old insecurities and body issues. I try not to get hung up on the size of clothes, but its been a long time since I felt like I was too fat to shop at a store. And I’m not too fat to shop there, that’s a horrible thing to say – but clothing stores like that make me nuts. They have everything sized so much smaller than other stores. There’s still a part of my brain that cringes when I realize my hips are wide or my butt looks big… but then I remember that my a$$ can rock a pencil skirt, and my boyfriend is FAR from complaining about my assets.
So this weekend I learned I am a size 8 AND a size 14. Heck somewhere else I’d probably run a 16…. SO what… I found clothes that fit and looked nice = mission accomplished.
Saturday night I went to the Blues game with TJ and couple friends of mine. We were in the club seats so we had free food and drinks. So we all went starving. I ate too much grease. I used it as stress relief after shopping. TJ and Keith each put away 8-12 beers… they lost count. Erin put away 3 glasses of wine and two beers and got wasted. She ended up screaming in my ear about being my maid of honor at the wedding and TJ having to ask her for permission to marry me… *yea, that went over well. After I drove everyone home, my belly was complaining about all of the nasty food I put into it. I had bloat belly… not a good feeling.
Sunday TJ played Minecraft all day while I read papers ALL DAY. I kid you not. This girl was preparing.
Monday I spent the day prepping even more… planning my strategy to talk to her… then I met with the doctor I wanted to work for. Now she is awesome. I’d love to do the research… I just have to find my own money. This is a common problem right now. No one has any money to hire you. In science, if you can write a grant and get yourself funded = mission accomplished. Usually though, you need someone to carry you until you can get a grant. She just doesn’t have it right now. But I think I made a good impression, so hopefully I can convince her to take me.
What might interest you all, is the fact that she studies how maternal obesity can lead to cancer in the offspring. Specifically having a high-fat diet/obese mother, might change gene expression in the fetus as its developing, which could lead to health problems in the children. Children born to obese mothers tend to gain weight faster than children born to normal weight mothers – even if they are on the same diet.
Health facts like this are one of the reasons I lost my weight in the first place. I knew that if I wanted to start a family in the future, I would want to be in great shape. *No need to despair though. Simply exercising and eating healthy, even if you have a higher BMI makes things better for your future kids.
I’d like to explore this further in a post-doc. Obesity and its health effects are only going to get worse as my generation starts reproducing. The obesity epidemic is fully raging, and if we can understand the science behind WHY some kids gain more weight than others, potentially we can create more effective treatment programs to combat it.
Okay I’m taking my science hat off now… Its crunch time! I have a lot of things to accomplish and not a lot of time to do it in… no pressure though, right? ;-)
Saturday, February 09, 2013
I found out on Friday morning that the person I wanted to do a post-doctoral fellowship with -- wants to meet with me!!!
I'm so unprepared! I literally don't have a pair of dress pants that I like, flat shoes, and I need to read about 40 research articles she's written -- look up several post-doc fellowship grant applications I can apply for -- and try to make a rough sketch of a grant application based on research she proposed in a grant I saw because my boss reviewed it... All by Monday.
Friday I printed out all of the papers I thought I would try to read. I'm probably overestimating what I can get done, but hey -- I'm gonna try.
I also went clothes shopping with my friend Krista (IMNGUARD) to look for some dress pants. Of course the only pair that I liked in New York and Company weren't in my size (and I tried on every style they had). I had sticker shock at Banana Republic... I had coupons and rewards dollars, but I just would rather shop at outlet prices! I also looked at the GAP -- they only had ONE STYLE of pants that were long. That was a common theme. Short, cropped dress pants are everywhere! Umm... I'm 5'10", I have a scientific job interview... I need long pants! Ugh...
I did get some flat Anne Klein shoes at Nordstrom Rack to wear though. I'm trying to break them in now 'cause they're kind of slippery. So I just need pants.
I guess I should also run to Office Max and get a professional looking notepad binder to hold my papers in and stuff so I don't look like a hot mess. I've been going to a lot of "how to get a job" and "how to interview" lectures lately, but having to whip myself together in three days is kind of nuts.
I decided to skip the Mardi Gras parade today. Its just not as important as buckling down and getting research papers read. I still need to get pants though or else my head will explode. I'm going to try a different mall to see if the NY&Co has my size pants, and if not -- head over to the outlet mall to see if Banana has anything over there. Hopefully some long pants. Heck I'll just check the department stores at the mall too -- save myself the trip driving. Poor TJ -- he's going with me. That boy is being really nice. He will even go shopping with me! Won't hold my purse though unless I ask reeeeeeeally nicely. Well he might today since I've still got a broken wing.
My parents just got up -- they're going to go down and work on my house. There's something leaking in the attic, staining the living room ceiling. It only happens when its cold... but not when its raining?? My dad thinks there's ice somewhere up there, and not a real leak, but he's going to go poke around. The carpet is ordered for the 23rd -- so soon enough my house will be on the market and that will be one less thing on my list. I feel kind of guilty making my parents work while I'm in StL... but then again, now I'm going to be prepping for a job interview, so they're happy.
Tonight is the Blues game with TJ and some friends of ours. The boys thought they had Club tickets that came with free food and beer, but I just can't find any info on it anywhere... For as much as they paid for the seats, they justified them by the amount of beer they were going to drink... and crappy food they were going to eat. I still hope that's the case, but if its not, then I won't feel pressured to eat as much.
Sunday I'll be preparing...
Monday I'll be preparing...
And then *fingers crossed* she likes me, she really likes me! Or at least would let me write a few grants for her and if I get them, join her lab (such is life).
I would just love to have a job after grad school, that would be one less thing that I have to worry about... And getting the house on the market will be one less thing to worry about...
I talked to my boss finally about my arm wound not healing. He had no idea because I've been hiding it from him. He response was more along the lines of, well if he say have surgery, have surgery and just delay graduation. Then a lot of blah, blah about how I've changed for the better physically and emotionally since I came to grad school and luckily I got outta there when he got a phone call and it didn't get super awkward. So I did set dates for my committee meeting and thesis defense. I haven't heard back from ONE of the members, but everyone else can go, so hopefully he will respond soon. Or else, I'll have it and he won't make it (shucks!).
The end is near... hopefully my future is starting to show up more clearly now.
Wednesday, February 06, 2013
Update on my last blog.
I’m doing better. Emotionally I was a wreck. I was in a lot of pain. A lot of nerve pain – so painful….
Today its better. Monday I saw my GP for advice and for nerve pain meds. My plastic surgeon (PS) kept insisting it was muscular. 10 seconds with my GP, he agreed its nerve pain and we discussed a few options. We also discussed what I should do, if I should get another opinion. He basically said, it would be easier for me to just keep going to the PS unless he becomes unbearable and remains combative. Basically if I leave him now, the PS will kind of blow up at every other doctor that helps me. So if I can maintain a good working relationship with the PS, it would save me undue stress, pressure, and medical bills. So I left with some good advice, some nerve pain meds, and a doctor who told me to call him if it gets worse, and he’ll refer me to whomever he can to get this fixed.
I had to wait until Monday night to take the pain meds, and luckily it DID work. Night and day for pain. I mean I’m still on ibuprofen, but the gabapentin really helps the excruciating pain/electrocuting pain. And its helping me to sleep = bonus. Apparently I looked like a stressed out, tired, mess at my GPs office. He very nicely and kindly talked to me for over a half hour. Changed my dressing… tsked over the fact that I had to do it by myself.
Tuesday was busy. My pain went from an 8/10 down to a 3 of 4/10. So much more manageable. Had a ton of stuff to do at work. Felt like I made some progress. Still feel like I have a gagillion things to do…
On the house front Amber moved out Tuesday as well. I think she saw with all the packing and moving and cleaning and my parents coming down, that it really would be better for her to find another place. We avoided that whole “I need you to move out” conversation… now we’re just having the… I need you to pay me the $$ you owe me conversation. I’ll give her a break on some stuff… but its something that I am glad is over. The money helped. It was fine for awhile. But it will help to sell the house if its kept super clean and is available to show at the drop of the hat.
On the selling the house front – new carpet’s going to be installed on the 23rd, so its going to go up on the market on March 11th. Then it’s a waiting game… BUT I’m on my way to making it sellable. TJ moved a bunch of heavy furniture by himself on Saturday – seriously he’s a beast. My mom is an anal retentive cleaner and packer, so she made a ton of progress on my kitchen. I tried to help, but once again, I can’t really. Everyone yells at me when I try to help.
On the work front. I’m doing the best that I can. Right now I need to get my 2nd year student in the lab to become my minion. She’s great, but she’s just super busy. I would like to teach her everything that I know and use her to do experiments that I need to get done for the paper. Thesis writing… almost non-existent.
So today I met with the PS again. I took all my meds, and threw in an anxiety pill before I got there just to keep a level head. This time, he was much nicer. I got him right after lunch, so he apparently just had a few cigarettes based on his smell. So calmer PS this week. Didn’t bat an eyelash when I told him I got a gaba prescription. I have to switch some of the bandage materials. Apparently I need something rougher next to the wound to literally scrape the top layer off with each bandage change. Gross I know. More painful… *sigh* So I’m doing that. Doing my best to have 4 bandage changes a day instead of 3, but with work, this doesn’t always get done. He also have me a round of Cipro antibiotics. I’m allergic to all of the normal antibiotics. This is to see if this helps with wound healing. I don’t have an “infection” per say, but killing off some bacteria might potentially possibly maybe help with wound healing, so I’m doing that until next week. I also get the joy of seeing my PS every Wednesday until this heals. If I decide in two weeks to have surgery, we can… but I’m still leaning away from doing that.
This weekend is a little interesting. I’m going to StL for Mardi Gras. I haven’t been in a few years, and I really want to go. I just have to convince TJ to wake his butt up in time. Then we and another couple friends of mine got tickets to the Blues game against the Ducks (TJ’s FAVORITE team ever). The girls were just going to try to get cheap tickets—I wanted to surprise TJ with v-day tickets, but that man is so stubborn he wouldn’t stop talking about tickets, so I had to ruin the surprise. So he and my friends husband started looking at tickets…. They could sit up reeeeeally high… or get Blues Club tickets. So they spent a ton of money on fancy hockey tickets… Which the boys paid for, so now I get to enjoy it too! It comes with free food and beer, so those three are going to get loaded to get their money’s worth and I’ll be the DD.
Now here’s where this weekend gets interesting. My parents are going to come down here to continue working on the house to get it ready to sell (they bought it with me – so they’re getting their money back when we sell it). I’m going to go to their house on Friday and watch all the dogs – my two and their three dogs, so they won’t get in the way down here if doors are open and cleaning solution is all over the floor, etc. So hopefully they get some stuff done and don’t freak out at my general lack of progress here. Its just frustrating because I can’t help more. This is how I helped last weekend, holding my mom’s Chihuahua. That little girl LOVED the view and being spoiled, so it was hard to get her out. TJ rolled his eyes A LOT at that.
So I’ll be in StL, my parents will be here in Columbia, and I’ll be running around trying to relax a bit in StL. I should probably clean my mom’s house or do laundry or something while I’m there and they’re here cleaning…. But we’ll see… So far I’m optimistic. The new bandage change regime might help… Maybe it was the 2x a day bandage changes were bad… maybe the rougher bandages will help... I dunno… I just hope it heals!
(oh and 101 days until graduation!)
Monday, February 04, 2013
Long blog… bit of a rant… bit of a freak out… issues I didn’t plan on with losing weight.
So I lost almost 100#... great. Along with that I had amazing health benefits, more confidence, looked great, felt great…. And extra skin. It happens to a lot of us. I decided to get my arm skin reduced because it was the worst issue I had. My arms were always an issue. I was always self conscious about my arms. So… I got down to 180. Felt great. Finally plucked up the courage to see a plastic surgeon. Found one with good reviews… went in – and BAM! Problem solved.
Except as we all know, the more weight you lose, the more you begin to look at yourself in a mirror. The more you begin to become hypercritical of every pound of fat on your body. Is that a collarbone popping out? Is my wrist skinny? Wait, is that a gap between my thighs? This of course happens to almost everyone going through a plastic surgery procedure too. You shell out thousands of dollars and you think that you will be perfect at the end.
Well… things don’t always work out. After my first surgery I healed up… started working out again… and noticed things weren’t quiiiite right. My left elbow was significantly fatter than my right elbow. You could definitely tell a difference. And on my right side, my incision decided to form a little armpit nipple off the side of my body instead of laying flat. It was weird looking. It was small, but it was weird. So I was going to have a revision on my left elbow – get rid of my extra nipple at the same time. No big deal right?
Well apparently it has become a massive deal. Let me start out by saying my left side looks great. Straight scar… very small… skinnier elbow region. All good. No problems. No pain, most importantly.
Now the right side. This side has literally been in almost constant pain since December 11th. It has been in some form of almost excruciating pain since December 22nd. Yep. Over a month.
What I didn’t realize when I had the surgery, to remove the armpit skin triangle, he had to completely excise my existing armpit scar, and make me a new one. I thought it would be a simple nip and tuck, but apparently the scar tissue is so delicate and easily torn, they had to back up the margins to healthy skin before pulling it closed again. So he did that… and I apparently talked to him while he did it since I just had a local anesthetic… and not general anesthesia…
I don’t know what was different, but these stitches gave me almost constant pain since they were put in. They were worse than I remember the first surgery being – and let me remind you, I had two arms fully done with the first surgery. This time around, for some reason, my right armpit was just in constant pain. The stitches literally hurt me. They looked inflamed. I thought it might be infected, so I made a special appointment to see him a few days early just to check because the pain was so bad. He said, looks fine… no problems… you’re just healing.
So 11 days after my surgery I went to see him again. The stitches hurt. It was almost Christmas, so I asked him if it was okay to take them out. Aaaand I wanted to get in a hot tub with my BF over X-mas… and you can’t do that with stitches. He agreed, let a nurse do it, and left. She took them out – it hurt (common word in this blog!) and then she went… “hmm... Its pulling apart a bit, I wonder if he should look at this before you leave.” *NOW I know I should have said – “Go get him, please.” But it was late… I was tired… and I was happy the stitches came out. So I never saw the doctor.
The next day I finished packing up my car, and went home for Christmas… but my arm hurt. Now I just thought it was a little painful… and I was making a big deal out of it. But I had my sister who’s a doctor look at it, and it was apparently ripping itself open…
***Nows the part where it gets gross… do not read on if you don’t want TMI***
The eleven days of “healing” after the surgery, slowly ripped itself open over the next three painful days. Per my sister/doctor’s orders we did 3-4 wet to dry bandage changes a day. This entails putting wet gauze on top of the open wound. Letting it dry… and then ripping it off. Literally ripping the top layer of the wound off to heal. This is exactly as bad as it sounds. Worse so for me.
Through this all my sister, mother, and boyfriend helped me with bandage changes and all the grossness that goes along with it for the next few days. On the 26th, I called the doctor, and I saw him again on the 27th. Apologies… I don’t know what went wrong. He agreed my sister’s plan was appropriate and I was told to continue it.
So I did… and then I saw him again on the 3rd or so… Again. Wound nasty… pain… similar story…. Keep doing what you’re doing. Same for the next week… and the next week… so we decided to wait two weeks until the next appt.
During this time, we asked. Well… can you just stitch it back up? Close it? Force the skin to grow together? Should I wear a sling? Etc… No to all… apparently since this was an open wound, even though it was not infected in the bad sense – it was colonized. Aka my exterior skin bacteria was in there. If we closed it – I would be putting exterior bacteria INSIDE and that could lead to a very nasty infection. It would be better to let it heal on its own. Also according to my sister this is true.
So two weeks go by. Its painful as f***. My mood is worse because of this. I feel crappy because of this. I’m having trouble at work because of this. I have anxiety because of this. I’m annoyed that I can’t wear cute clothes because of this (legit annoyed!). I hate feeling useless. I hate feeling weak. I hate having to rely on others, and then failing at things when they are not around… Its been a vicious six weeks psychologically. I’m trying to stay positive, willing this to heal, waiting, following doctors orders to a T. And on Friday I had the worst appointment ever with my doctor.
Two weeks previous I mentioned I was almost fainting changing bandages. He didn’t offer help or ask me further. Just said it was me. I went to see my GP because I legitimately almost fell in the shower on multiple occasions and was afraid I was going to hurt myself. I had my blood pressure checked (it was 115/65!!! The lowest number I’ve ever seen! I used to be 150s/90s btw) – that was healthy normal! I had my blood sugar checked. Also normal. He told me the long wound was just messing with my autonomic nervous system – and I just needed to alter my routine to be safe.
Following doctor’s orders, I have to get up earlier than I need to. Eat something or drink something with real sugar (aka calories). He suggested juice. I compromised with a soy/protein/chai drink. So I get up earlier… I eat calories I normally would avoid. And I goof off on the computer sitting up – all so that I don’t pass out when I change my bandages and shower.
At this past Friday’s plastic surgeon appointment, I mentioned this to him. I also had my mother with me because she was in town to help me pack up my stuff and clean my house since I am literally crippled and can’t do that. No heavy lifting… hell no lifting my right arm much at all. Apparently those two things, plus me finally breaking down and crying because I was so frustrated with everything and the pain and the stress… made him kind of flip out on me.
Yep. He b1tched at ME! In the past two weeks since he saw me, apparently my wound was visibly larger and worse looking. According to him I had been healing two weeks ago, and now it was worse. He insinuated that this was my fault. That I had done something, and if it was so bad I should have not skipped my appointment the week previous.
When I said, it just looks horrible and I’ve always been this miserable, he also didn’t like that answer. Basically – I told a plastic surgeon I was horrified with his work and he flipped out. My mom mentioned that she was worried about how much pain I’ve been in. This has been the worst part. In the last two weeks I’ve developed severe pain in my arm below the incision. His response to my genuine pain declaration: “well I don’t know why that’s happening.” I basically described my nerve pain to him and he blew me off. Ignored that I brought it up. I didn’t ask for Percocet. I didn’t ask for pain meds… he just disregarded my pain completely.
By that point I was emotional wreck. His demeanor just kept pushing me off the sane edge into emotional disaster zone. So apparently he also hates tears. He then told me, and this is a direct quote: “Now if you remember, you’re the one who made me do this surgery.” Luckily my mom was quick to respond: “Yes, because it NEEDED to be done. There was a problem that needed to be fixed from the first surgery!”
So we have reached the point in the appointment where he tries to GUILT me? Somehow this whole fluke accident is MY FAULT? He then agrees to do surgery ASAP. So now he’s going to close it and I will have to wear my arm in a sling, restricting my movement completely for 3-4 weeks, and oh by the way you’re having surgery in less than a week. The end. So I got the details from the scheduling nurse. And left. A wreck. I was literally sick when I left. I started crying again… having a mild panic attack/anxiety attack… I just couldn’t understand why I had been treated like that + the fact that my wound had gotten WORSE was just too much to handle. I was sick/shaky/upset all day.
My mom and I went out for Mexican for lunch. I needed a drink and chips and cheese. So I ate horribly to comfort myself out of a sickening pool of despair. And it helped. We called my sister, asked her opinion on the situation, and I sent her more recent photos. At her practice in Kentucky, one of the other partners has experience with wound healing. She suggested a few treatments and strongly advised against surgery.
Around this time I also called to cancel the surgery. I mean, within 30 minutes of getting home I cancelled the surgery. I CAN’T have my arm in a sling for a month right now at work. I have serious experiments going on and a thesis to write. February is a bad month. March would be better.
So after lunch, and work, and talking to my sister, I called the doctors office back at 3PM to tell them that I had gotten a second opinion, this was the treatment suggested, what did my doctor think? Could he call me back and discuss this option? They suggested a wound vac treatment. Basically I would be carrying around a vacuum pump that would pull on the wound to drain it and keep it clean and healing. AND it would only require one bandage change a week. Sold!
And then I got a phone call from the plastic surgeon. He just sounded like he was in a pissy a$$ mood. I can’t quote all of the horrible things here, because I really do need to go to bed, but the short story highlights include:
“well its your right to get a second opinion, and you can get a third too”
“its unfair for someone to diagnose you from across the country”
“You could have this treatment, but its very expensive and I doubt your insurance would pay for it”
“That’s just a horrible idea, you have no idea how it works, and good luck getting it to function properly with where your wound is”
“You think surgery will be bad? This will be just as bad”
“Pfffft – I don’t think they know what they’re talking about”
And many, many, many more… So of course I’m trying to stay composed, and trying not to cry again… which I start to anyway. So now by talking to other doctors, he’s assuming I’m questioning his ability to practice medicine? I was just being a responsible person, getting more information on possible treatment options since he was so dismissive about my concerns and my pain earlier.
Then he tries to FORCE me into surgery. Apparently what he didn’t want to do in the morning, is now the ONLY option. It’s the only option he is willing to discuss with me. So I get off the phone with him as fast as I can so I don’t lose it completely… and then proceed to lose it completely.
Cue all of the anxiety/stress/sickness back again in full force. I’m so nauseous I can’t think… my chest is tight… its just all around bad news. AAAAAND I’m out shopping at Home Depot for all of this BTW.
I call my sister/doctor and talk to her about this a bit. He’s apparently just acting like any normal god-complex surgeon would, and plastic surgeons are apparently the worst of that bunch.
Now my family is talking lawsuits and I just don’t even want to add that to my pile of things to get done… I don’t know if I can take it.
Saturday morning the plastic surgeon called me. Much calmer. Much nicer. I don’t know who told him to call me back and play nice, but he did. He accused me again of keeping him out of the loop – but I when I try to keep him in the loop and discuss fainting *he ignores me and I have to see another doctor to get a treatment plan. Now once again he ignored my pain *so now tomorrow I need to make ANOTHER doctor’s appointment to talk to someone willing to listen to me…
He upped my bandage changes to 4 a day if possible. I’m managing 3. I can’t even begin to describe how bad these have become. Because of the nerve damage in my arm. Yep. I’m pretty sure I have an exposed nerve someone near the wound. There’s a certain section near the middle that’s the hardest to remove. When I do my entire arm lights up like fire. Like lava – excruciating burning pain that travels a defined path down my arm. Except in the past two days its gotten worse. I had sciatica before, so I know nerve pain. This is horrifyingly painful. I’m not joking when I say it can get up to 8 or 9 on the pain scale out of 10.
I was out to lunch with TJ today and I had to stop moving for a minute. My arm went to a full 10/10 on the pain scale for a good two seconds. He said he saw my eyes instantly tear up and he thought I was going to burst into tears at the restaurant. All in the middle of a normal joking situation.
So tomorrow I’m going to my GP to try and get some neuro drugs. I thought I might have some Gabapentin left over from my shingles episode three years ago, but I apparently tossed it. Ibuprofen doesn’t help, and at this point, I’d only take the Percocet for the oxy… So I’m avoiding it.
So where do I go from here? I’m at an 8/10 on the pain scale right now. I can’t fall asleep… and I not only have stress and anxiety, I also have pain. Pain that is becoming unbearable, possibly due to nerve damage.
So now that it might be serious, and I could have serious damage… do I need to talk to a lawyer? I think frivolous lawsuits against doctors are one of the major problems in our healthcare system… but with the way I’ve been treated lately coupled with the possible nerve damage… I just don’t know what to do.
I’m not asking for advice per say, and heaven help you if you actually read all of this… I just am at my wits end with this. The pain is bad enough today, and his treatment was bad enough on Friday, I figured I’d share the whole story with you… Its bad… I don’t know what to do…
Thursday, January 31, 2013
I am slowly learning from the last three days that my body does not handle sugar anymore! Or crappy fast food. My intestines have been super crazy the last few days. Why? Less fiber for sure. Added in a ton of empty calories of sugar, yep... aaaaand then throw in a fast food breakfast yesterday and you can see why my guts are very talkative.
Haha... that's one thing I didn't expect with eating healthy. I, sorry for TMI, stopped farting. Who'da thunk, cut out sugar, cut out gas. I mean logically it makes sense, but dang -- I didn't realize what a gassy mess I must have been. This is just weird. My stomach is still rumbling in protest over my diet the past few days.
I didn't have eggs in my house for my normal breakfast, so I splurged with McDonalds and justified it because I had to be at work early yesterday to rush and try to get stuff done... and guess what... I used to justify fast food a lot 80+ pounds ago. That is something I need to stop doing for sure.
I can have fast food if I want it, and I realize what the caloric intake is going to be. I should not have fast food because I feel like I DESERVE it or because I feel like I need to be REWARDED for some stupid reason, you know, like just doing my job...
So that head space is sorta gone. Hopefully I've turned a corner. I had a gummy worm binge yesterday afternoon. Felt AWFUL afterward. Seriously awful. The sugar crash/nasty aftertaste/and now gas is enough to make me avoid those gelatinous devil worms. I had planned to make alcoholic gummy worms for the recruitment party... but... yea... probably not anymore since I ate 2/3 of them... I might just toss the other worms in the trash. My guts would agree with that decision.
So today, I had my eggs and center cut bacon (seriously people, its the same calories as turkey bacon = but its real bacon!) and some soy milk. I also made myself a protein infused chai tea for work. I've been up since before six -- so since then I've already had 58 grams of protein! Haha, only 2 grams to my daily minimum. I've been definitely trying to shoot for over 100 every day. Those are the good days.
The past few weeks weight loss was due to cutting down on sugar and carbs, and increasing water, and increasing protein. I need to get back to that. Add in some fiber from fruit or broccoli, and I should be good.
At least I'm trying to be. I have a freakin' headache that won't quit. Drugs aren't helping, caffeine isn't helping, so I might go take some more allergy meds soon. I have to get my experiments done quick this morning (just feeding some cells and splitting some into plates -- ahh science), and then I get to head back home. The carpet guy is going to be there from 11-1. I just want this over with, so I agreed to let him come today.
My mom will be in later tonight -- so we'll get to packing up some stuff and cleaning. Hopefully no fighting. Hopefully low stress. I'm getting a bit overwhelmed with the amount of stuff I have to do to graduate... and *gasp* stop going to college!?! I mean, I've been in college for 10 years! What do people do after college? Get REAL jobs? With set work hours? Yikes... Oh well. It will all be worth it when I make my sister call me Doctor. She's an MD, so she thinks my PhD is frivolous (yes, this is my family, we are insane, and my sister and I are trying to out educate each other).
So in the cycle of bad day, good day... today is a good day. Hopefully I can keep this streak up.
And now for something fun. I spent a few hours last night fiddling around with my nails. Yes I said hours. I took my time. Played with colors. Some nail sticker... some glitter polish... I have mentioned my nail art addiction right? Anyway, here's my valentaine's day inspired mani. There was so much sparkle on my nails, my camera couldn't focus!
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