The Physical Ailments Archive

Crash, Into Me Babe

Posted November 26, 2020 By kmarrs

Sunday evening, a little after 10pm, I was headed to Marge’s house to work the overnight. I was about 2 or 3 miles from my house, going about 55mph, which is the speed limit. I’m certain of my speed because it’s a stretch of road that is easy to speed on but dead at that time of night so I had cruise control on. I set it at 55 exactly. It wavered between 54 and 56. Good enough. I was approaching an intersection. Cross traffic had a stop sign. I did not.

As I reached the intersection, a 17yo boy, with a brand new license (he’d gotten it the morning before) and driving a new to him car that still ahd temp tags on it, ran the cross traffic stop sign and was in the middle of the intersection exactly as I reached it. There was no time to break or swerve. We were both going pretty fast. I at the speed limit. Him I’m not sure.

I t-boned his car going nearly full speed. His girlfriend was in the passenger seat and thankfully walked away from it. Cuz as fast as I was going and where I came in contact, I easily could have killed her. Thankfully, his parents bought him the equivalent of a tank. Both cars were totaled, but the three of us lived.

About 2 minutes later a tow truck happened upon us. A couple of minutes after that a sheriff stumbled upon us too. We were in the middle of calling 911 when help randomly showed up. Another sheriff was called in to assist.

I was pretty much immediately declared not at fault. Because I wasn’t. And there was nothing on my end I could have done differently. His insurance agrees and there will be a payout. I’m not sure how much yet.

At the scene I had adrenaline pumping and told everyone I was ok. About an hour later when I was safely home, the adrenaline wore off and I realized I was indeed in a significant amount of pain. I have a nice bruise running across my torso from my left shoulder down to my belly, thanks to the seat belt that did it’s job.

It’s longer than that, but I didn’t want to include my breasts in the image. This gives you the idea though.

Then there are my knees which slammed into my dash. The left is bruised but mostly ok. My right knee is totally fucked up.

This is my left knee. Clearly bruised. Kind of sore. Not that bad.

Clearly my right knee is pretty fucked up.

My best friend upon hearing about the accident and learning I came home started pushing me in the direction of the hospital. She was concerned I’d fractured my collar bone or had whiplash. Robin and Thomas joined in on the campaign concerned I’d fractured the knee.

So I called mom back and asked her to come down to my part of town and take me to the little stand-alone ER down the street. They ran a CT of my head and neck, and took x-rays of my chest/shoulders and knee. All imaging came back clean so it’s one of those things where it looks and feels worse than it is. The doctor did warn, however, that if it still hurt like that a week later, I needed new x-rays because hairline fractures don’t show up right away.

I cannot begin to describe how much I hurt. And literally everything hurts. All of my hurts. So much hurt.

I don’t have photos of the car. It was late and dark. It’s still at the impound lot. Hopefully here very soon I can go and retrieve the things in it.

I’m missing a week of work because I have no car and I’m just not fit to work right now due to injuries.

So I need the kid’s insurance to cough up money for the car, injuries, and missed work. Plus the impound fees.

The kid is a good kid. I want so bad to be mad at him. But he’s just baby. Stupid and reckless baby. But baby nevertheless. He’s only a couple of months older than Thomas. Thomas in fact knows him and declared him a good kid. I hope his parents are like being stern in a way that he learns his lesson, but are also showering him with love and support. He was really freaked out at the scene. He did a bad thing and knows it. I have zero doubt he’ll be more careful from here on out. So while I’m sure he’s grounded, I hope his mom is hugging him a little tighter right now and loving the hell out of him.

I am worried about his passenger girlfriend. She said she was fine at the scene, but then, so did I. I so easily could have killed her when I hit their car. She walked away ok, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t discover an injury when the adrenaline wore off, like I did.

I’m just so worried. They are just so young. And the crash spooked them.

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Snacks

Posted November 12, 2020 By kmarrs

So I have been noticing lately that if I don’t eat every 3-4 hours, I start getting really sick. And it can no longer be something small. I need a medium meal around the clock every 3 hours (that I’m awake) or I get really really sick.

I spoke to my bestie, who knows medical things, and she informed me it was the hypoglycemia. I responded that I’m not hypoglycemic. She bopped me with a flip flop and informed me I am and. And that further, based on how quick I am to get hangry, I probably have been for a while.

The thing is, I’ve been actively working to kick start my metabolism, so it’s far more noticeable. I burn calories a lot faster than I did 11 months ago and so I need to eat more food more often.

Speaking of… I’m actively losing weight. I’m no longer going to the gym, but by eating regularly throughout the day, I have kick-started my metabolism and I’m losing weight. Which wasn’t exactly my goal. I thought it might happen, but I mostly just wanted better mood control through regular calorie intake.

Hold up. Let me dig out and transcribe what I told my friends. I was having a good brain day at that moment and it’s pertinent.

Not eating puts you into starvation mode and you retain and even build fat. So if you eat a reasonable meal (based on the amount of hunger once you learn to listen) every 3 hours you drop out of starvation mode and start to burn fat. Sure you might gain a little at first because your body still wants to store the calories. But once your body realizes it’s being fed as often as it needs, it drops out of starvation mode. Also, because you are eating regularly (seriously every 3 to 4 hours around the clock so long as you’re awake) you stop like hugely craving to eat the entire all you can eat buffet. You learn to recognize when you are full and you learn to self regulate how much you eat in a meal because you aren’t literally starving to death.

Also, for those of us with mental health issues, regular food helps regulate mood. It doesn’t have to be a huge big thing if you’re not hugely hungry. Just something. Listen to what your body is saying and give it sustenance every 3-4 hours the best you can.

I have an alarm on my fit bit that goes off at set times based on what day it is. (I work third shift some days and second shift others and my sleep follows a pattern but that doesn’t mean it’s the same hours every day.) When my alarm goes off, I assess how hungry I am and eat accordingly. If I’m really seriously just not hungry at all, I reassess in 30 minutes.

I’m also making other changes. I spent some 4 years eating a cliff bar for breakfast every morning as I walked out the door. That used to hold me for 5 hours because I never fucking ate. But now? I’m hungry again after 2. So I am using protein powder to make myself a breakfast shake with milk, oats, and berries, and that really just holds me the 3-4 hours I need it to. And yeah, the protein powder is expensive. But it sure as fuck beats getting sick all the time. I was getting sick at least once a day on most days. And I didn’t know why until I finally realized it was then I was missing a meal during my work shift. I had the food with me and the ability to eat, I just ignored my watch alarm. So I’ve stopped doing that, I’m making sure my snacks are slightly larger. And I’ve added the morning protein shake.

In all I feel great.

Me after 2 hours if I’ve only had a cliff bar to eat.
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A Scare

Posted November 5, 2020 By kmarrs

My right breast and armpit have been hurting for awhile now. Then I started noticing mystery bruises but also mystery sores. I couldn’t find a lump though. Nevertheless these things need checked.

I went to my OBGYN and got referred out to a mammogram that happened on election day. That came back clean and clear.

Next up on the list is to figure out why there is pain in the general area of my liver and gallbladder. It’s probably just gallstones and I’ll have them yank it next fall when I can take a week off work. But considering my bio sister almost died from catastrophic liver failure, I’m going to go ahead and ask my doctor to run a full liver panel when I go in next week for my annual physical. Just to be safe.

I have so much more to share. Lots happening. So come back next week and I’ll share what’s happening.

Hmm. I am writing this on the app while I sit in the emergency room with Robin. She’s going to be ok. She just hurt her back. But I needed to write my post so it could go live tomorrow (Thursday) and knew this was my best chance to sit and write. Anyway, whereas normally I’d insert a photo right about now, I don’t know how to do that from the app. So no photo this week, I guess.

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Just So Fucking Tired

Posted October 15, 2020 By kmarrs

The trouble isn’t that I’m not smart.  I’ve tested for MENSA.  I just barely didn’t qualify.  I’m in the top 2%, not 1%.  I graduated Summa Cum Laude.  I’m capable of both math and writing.  I’m fully capable.  I have so much potential. 

The problem is for 4 years now, my brain has not consistently been getting the blood and oxygen that it needs to function.  Take normal neurodivergent forgetfulness and magnify it.  I can’t even info dump on my special interests because I can’t retain the knowledge.  I lose everyday words all the time.  I’ve forgotten how to do the math that I did for 20 hours a week for 3 years while working in the maths department.  My spelling is worse than usual because I can no longer see how words go together.

Tumblr jokes about having only one brain cell, but I’m watching in real-time as lack of oxygen kills mine off.  At least that is how it feels.  That is how it seems.

And if I didn’t have the potential I have, maybe I wouldn’t notice it as much.  But I’m watching myself just get dumber and dumber.  At least that’s how it feels.  And it’s painful. 

They say it takes 4 years for your brain to recover from sustained blood loss.  But I can’t keep blood in my body long enough for my brain to recover.  So it just gets worse and worse.  And I feel… some things are worse than death.  Not being dumb itself, that’s fine.  But watching my potential and the dreams I had based on it burn away from a consistent lack of oxygen.

And my doctor, the specializes in blood (the title escaped me, you’ll have to excuse me) just has zero interest in figuring out why I suddenly stopped making my own blood 4 years ago.  I got regular yearly blood work up to that point.  I wasn’t anemic.  And then suddenly I had half as much blood in me as I was supposed to and that was all she wrote.  I’ve been severely anemic ever since.  I took mass quantities of iron as a supplement.  My body just flushed it.  The only thing that forces my body to make blood is a regular iron infusion.  Sometimes, even then, I still need a blood transfusion.

My friend Joy taught me to have my B12 levels checked.  Mine is checked 4-12 times a year.  I take mass quantities of B12 anyway because maybe I have the motherfucker gene and my body needs more than it should.  It helps a little, but it can’t keep up.  My blood doctor refuses to test for anything.  He just keeps ordering iron infusions and blood transfusions as if that’s to be the end-all solution for the rest of my life.

And I’m so tired.  I’m so fucking tired.

I had a potentially life-altering realization over the weekend that would explain like a million things at once, but would also mean I’m dying in a, there is no saving me sort of way, and it was almost a relief.  Because while I’m not suicidal, I can’t keep living like this. 

I’ll talk more about the realization later once some tests are run.  Because I don’t want to alarm people prematurely.  It’s probably nothing.  I’m probably no more dying than usual, considering I do keep almost dying anyway.  This post isn’t about that thing.  I’m more illustrating, by alluding to it, just how tired I am.

I’m just so fucking tired.  So fucking tired.

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Phoning it in

Posted September 3, 2020 By kmarrs

I was planning to write a follow up post on my new job, but I just don’t have the spoons this week. I have no blood, once again, and I’m very tired. I did get a treatment this week and I have another one next week for the no blood thing. So it’s being handled. But tired.

Have a flower the birds grew and Robin photographed

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This is a summary that I wrote out a day or two after I almost died the other night. Everyone knows about the throat closing up bit. But there is so much more to it. The summary is a little incoherent maybe. But the entire process of dying is a little incoherent. So you’ll excuse me that, I’m sure.

“The throat closing and chest tightening and sudden onset of headache because you aren’t getting enough oxygen and you try to swallow but there is something in your throat that feels like a noodle. There is no noodle in your throat. There is only throat in your throat. But you can’t swallow past the noodle. And holy fuck maybe if the headache would let up maybe you could think straight but the headache is only getting worse. And your chest is being squeezed by Andre the Giant as tight as he can squeeze. And the flaming sword piercing through your chest hitting your spin doesn’t help anything. The paranoia feels well placed though. You’re actively dying. The paranoia hit before the rest. It always knew you were dying. The noodle is getting bigger. Your throat is getting smaller. The sword is getting hotter. Andre is hugging tighter.”

I had my first double epi event that night. I always start with 6-8 benadryl. Epi pens are expensive and thus hard to come by. I know this. But about an hour after I took the meds, the lack of oxygen headache was setting in, and the next step is turning blue, so I went ahead and injected the first epi. It sort of helped and the noddle lessened. But then is came right back so I used the second one on the ride to the hospital. You don’t actually need to go to the hospital with just one epi. But a 2 epi event can lead to cardiac arrest so as soon as it became clear the one wasn’t going to cut it, we headed out.

Anyway, they pumped me full of steroids (and sent me home with more) and monitored my heart for a few hours. But the epi pens did their job and my heart was fine, so I was released at the end of the 4 hour monitoring period.

Here is the fun part.

Guess who has met their epi-pen quota for the year. Apparently, due to the cost of epi-pens (A generic brand 2 pack is over 600$ because in the land of the free pharmaceutical companies can charge what they want. These same 2-packs are 32$ before insurance in the UK, for the record), my medical insurance will only cover 2 near-death experiences a year. The third is life insurance’s problem. I do have a full set on hand. I’ve only almost died once this year. But if it happens a second and then a third time? Guess I die for real. Btw. This isn’t the 2020 quota. It’s a rolling 12. I can’t get another refill until June 2021. Also, this is why I take a half bottle of Benadryl before I even think about the epi. But sadly, allergies like this get worse with each exposure. My throat will close more and more with each exposure and get harder to reopen. And I can’t just avoid the thing since it’s in everything and not listed on the label. Obviously I do my best but… Anyway, when I say capitalism kills this is what I mean.

So that’s where things stand in mid July of 2020.

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