Just Call Me Pathetic

Nearly Died. Twice.

Posted on by kmarrs

So.

Ok.

In something like March I was placed on Iron Supplements because my hemoglobin was a little low.  For women it’s suppose to be in the 12-15 range.  But mine was off a little.

Then in seemingly unrelated news, in early April. I had a bad night.  I thought I was just dehydrated severely, because I had really bad diarrhea. But “whatever the cause” I passed out twice.  Once while actually sitting down.  Full on blacked out and came to only after landing hard both times.  I rehydrated and took it easy the next couple of days, but went about my business.  Oh and my stool was black, but iron supplements do that, ya know?  Anyway, I had a doctor’s appointment in about a week and a half, I’d report all this then.  Couldn’t get in any sooner.  Nothing to fuss over.

But like those two passing out spells really knocked it out of me.  I was so fatigued.   And could hardly catch my breath.  But like I’m a fat chick and I’m always winded and the weather was nice so I was trying to be more active.  Walking more.  And well, fatigue is like an everyday thing with me.  This was more than usual, but I had just had a really bad health night so… Anyway I was seeing my doctor soon.  It would all get squared away.

So the big doctor day came.  I filled her in on all that and also my history or chronic loose stools that I thought had led to me passing out a week and a half prior.  She took all this in and it sort of made sense.  But she wanted some blood tests.  She needed to check on my hemoglobin anyway because I’d been on the iron for about a month and she wanted to see how that was going.  So I left the office with a new appointment for in a month, and went down the hall to the lab to get my blood drawn.  Thought nothing more of it.  And went home.

That night, right as I was crawling into bed at 10PM my phone rang.  It was my doctor’s office.  I needed to go ASAP to the hospital, no I couldn’t drive myself, my hemoglobin was at 6.8 and I needed a blood transfusion or two (hint I got 2) and they needed to find out why I was literally bleeding to death.

Anyway, to speed this up.  3 days, many tests, and lots of drawing blood and transfusioning blood later, I was sent home with the knowledge that the blood was coming from polyps in my stomach that had ruptured (and were treated), and my hemoglobin was back up to 9 something.  Also my antacid for my acid reflux was changed out to a protonix, that both helps with reflux, but will help prevent my stomach from bleeding anymore (laughs).  Oh, and I’m up to twice a day Iron Supplements because my hemoglobin is really low now.  But not dangerously low like it was.

so I take my meds like a good girl.  I go to the follow up appointment like a good girl.  I almost punch my doctor in the face like a good girl.  (long story)  I schedule an appointment for another month out.  This one was for this past Wednesday.  So like mid June.

The Thursday before that appointment I wake up, go to the bathroom, and am greeted by the very obvious signs that I’m bleeding again.  I sigh, email my boss, and get my husband to drop me off at the Emergency Room.  They check my hemoglobin, sure enough, in the span of about 6 hours it went from 8 something to 7 something to 6 something.  I wasn’t just loosing blood, I was loosing it fast.  Or had lost it fast, because they can’t find where it’s coming from.  This was the same hospital.  They had my history from my previous stay and are affiliated with my doctor’s office so they have my full work up.  They knew where to look first.  No sign of bleeding anywhere, other than, you know, the obvious blood loss.  So 2 more blood transfusions and they send me home.  Only this time I also got what’s called and iron infusion.  Which is basically the supplement liquified, tons of it, straight to the vein.

So here I am with the explanation that GI bleeds frequently heal themselves and I shouldn’t worry.  And oh by the way, the iron infusion I got at the hospital, and the second one I got as outpatient Friday, will make it look like I’m bleeding again, but I shouldn’t worry.  I know what symptoms to watch for when my hemoglobin is dangerously near death low, right?  Right.  But I probably won’t start bleeding again.  I mean why would I?

*turns and looks at the camera*

IQ You

Posted on by kmarrs

On the 24th of October I sat the admissions test for MENSA.  I sat and failed, that is.

It’s been a lifelong goal of mine to join MENSA.  So this came as a hard break.  It’s not even that I’m not as smart as I thought I could be.  I don’t care as much about that.  I was greatly looking forward to the social opportunities.  And well, yes, I feel stupid.

I do feel really stupid.

And as I sit here trying to turn this into a long post I realize there is nothing more I want to say on the subject.  I mean I could explore how I feel stupid even though I’m not stupid but fuck that.  I don’t really want to talk about it.

So I’ve shared that I tried.  I’ve shared that I failed.  And now I have school work to work on.

This Is Why I Can’t Have Nice Things. Err… Friends.

Posted on by kmarrs

FeelingShameSo there is this guy who works at the gas station down the street that is really nice and seems pretty cool and laid back.  I’m hella interested into getting to know him as a person, and maybe pursuing a friendship.  Now, he’s married but so am I, and that’s ok because all I want into is his head.  (No really, I’m asexual.)

The problem is I’m socially awkward.  I’m also an odd duck, which is a nice way of saying I’m a bit weird or out there.

So today, since we had a bit of a conversation going, I asked him if he reads for fun.  He said yes, and named Harry Potter.  So I’m taking this to mean he doesn’t inhale books like I do, but he does know a good contemporary when he comes across one.  I nodded to myself and ran back home, I forgot something vital anyway, and figured I’d grab a copy of Siddhartha while I was there and give it to him when I passed back by his work, on my way to the store.

Why Siddhartha?  It’s my favorite book.  And as it’s not expensive, I tend to keep multiple copies around so I can give them to random people.  First of all, everyone who reads it gets something from it.  Something meaningful.  I got a strong grasp of spirituality, I think this guy will find some peace and quiet within it.  I also test people with this book.  I’m not testing what you get out of it.  That book is a personal journey and I can’t judge your experience based on mine.  You don’t even have to like the book.  Different strokes, different folks.  I honestly don’t even care if you read it.  I’ve been handed books that I’ll get to eventually but other books crop up first.  No, what I judge you on is your reaction to being handed the book.  See this is a “can we be best friends” test.  If you’re generally receptive to being handed a book, we stand a chance.  If you’re excited, especially after I have explained why this book, hello new best friend.  If you think I’m weird for handing you a book and/or treat it like it has cooties, we don’t stand a chance.

Well, I don’t know his true reaction because I literally threw it at him and ran.

See, I had worked up the courage to hand him the book, after the initial courage to ask him if he reads, and that was about it.  I was highly worried he’d think I was a freak.  I wasn’t prepared for him to actually be busy so not wanting to interrupt, and not wanting to stand and wait my turn in case I lost my nerve, I simply dropped it on the counter next to him, there was a note inside, and was back out the door.  Only, as I’m leaving, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it start flying across the counter headed towards the floor, because apparently this socially awkward, odd duck was less than gentle and didn’t simply place it on the counter.

Not knowing what to do in this situation, I did the only reasonable thing I could think of and ran, not making eye contact with anyone.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is simply me trying to make a friend.  You should see me when I’m actually trying to flirt.

So anyway, I went about my errands and spent that hour or so formulating in my head what to say to him, since I knew I had to go back, unable to leave it at that.  I needed to save face as much as possible as quickly as possible.

So I did my shopping and went back.

He was standing outside on his smoke break when I got back to the gas station an hour later.  I don’t know exactly what I said but it started out to the tune of apologizing for throwing the book, explaining that I’m a socially awkward odd duck (he laughed but not meanly), that was afraid he’d consider a freak,  and that I had kind of panicked.  I went on to explain what I’ve already told you, fine readers, about everyone getting something different out of the book, what I got, and what I thought he might get.  I worked in that I knew he was pretty laid back thanks to my brother-in-law, whom he also knows and is talkative with.  (Said brother-in-law is going to disown me for this stunt.)  So if he was paying attention and not simply praying to himself that I’d go away, he knows I’m married, which also hopefully means he knows this awkward display wasn’t me flirting.  I mentioned I’d like to get to know him, and kind of awkwardly hoped out loud that maybe we could get to be friends.

Then I bought a pepsi off him because at this point the least I could do was give him a sale.

Something Blue

Posted on by kmarrs

Borderline Personality Disorder BPDSee it’s like this.  I dyed my hair black all through high school, but I always wanted to do at least my tips or roots or something (anything!) a funky color.  My mom said no and wouldn’t budge.  Once I became an adult I was working one job after another and funky hair just wasn’t an option.  You’d think that somewhere in time I’d have grown out of it.  But right now I’m in a spot in my life where I have no one to report to outside of my family, and I could use a little funky in my life.  Even my mom says it makes sense.  Not that I asked permission, but I did warn her.  Oh, she has loosened up some in the decade plus since I graduated high school so it would have been cool.  But as I said, I wasn’t looking for permission.  Just validation.  Which I got.  And I’m going with turquoise.

So I’m Attempting This: Fibromyalgia and Exercising Through the Burn

Posted on by kmarrs

fibromyalgia and exercise
Click the image to go to the site it came from.

I’m not going to lie, I’m currently hating it. Right now my upper arms burn so bad.

But you know what?  For once?  It’s a hurt that I earned; in the same way that like challenging myself with kayaking and rock wall climbing.  I live almost every day in pain.  Granted, it’s a different kind of pain, but it’s constant and for no good reason.  This?  There is a reason to it.  Just like I made it to the top of a wall and down a river, I will make it to 20 pushups.  Maybe even 50.  Or probably just 20.  But I’ll be stronger for it, better for it, healthier for it, and proud of myself.  Even if I am in so much pain for it.

At least this can be treated with actual pain meds.Borderline Personality Disorder and exercise

Snap Shots

Posted on by kmarrs

School and Borderline Personality Disorder BPDThe lack of blog writing isn’t from the depression I blipped into.  No worries there.  Nope.  45+ hour work weeks, school, 3 kids and weekends at the pool simply leave little time for writing.

So, I guess you could say my life is over flowing with all the good things.

That said, I still want to attempt 3-days-a-week content.  If that doesn’t work, I’ll drop to 2-days-a-week.  When I have a queue longer than my arm, I’ll go back to 3.  Or 5.  I don’t know.  I’m aiming for regular.  However often it may be.

Speaking of school, the class I’m embarking on now is Psyc 110.  Yep, I get to study psychology.  DREAMS!  THEY DO COME TRUE!

But can I just say that the amount in which you enjoy a subject outside of the classroom is directly proportionate to how much you can potentially loath to take pages after pages of notes on it.

Also, as an avid reader, I automatically hated being forced to read most anything assigned in literature class.  Ok, so have me read it.  Debate it.  I love a good discussion.  But if you ask me the key event in chapter three and then mark it wrong because I finished the book in one night and therefore gave you the key event in chapter 4, I will stab you. STAB YOU!

OK, not really.  But oh lord I used to piss teachers off with that.  Hah.  I guess they weren’t use to students who liked to read.  For fun.  It’s a real thing people!  Something Literature instructors should understand!

But yes, I’d much prefer discussing psychology then writing out notes defining it.

In other things that piss me off: That zip line tour I’ve been planning and excited about for weeks?  Yep.  Can’t go.  The appropriate term here is crushed.

Since we’re defining things.