The Adventures of Sicky McSickington

Thankfully I haven't been infected by Glenn and his weird cold that can be passed via computer/phone, so here's a fun recount of my past injuries and illnesses. But where to start?

How about 10th grade? That's when I broke my foot walking. In my defense they were like 4" heels and the floor was slippery, but it doesn't really lessen the embarrassment. Thankfully, I only had a plaster splint for about 3 days before they gave me a walking cast. However I waited about a day before I went to the hospital, just to make sure I thought it was broken, and when I finally went my mother parked on the other side of Shands (in Gainesville), and I had to limp my way down to ER. (While I was there this woman had a seizure in the waiting room - scary!) We were filming that great epic Ghost Pirate Hunt at the time, so filming had to stop while I healed. (Even though SOME people claimed we would start again as soon as I got a walking cast - like we were really worried about continuity).

The next thing doesn't really involve me, it's just kinda funny. While my church youth group was in NC on a retreat, I found out my mom had to go to the hospital because she was severely dehydrated. I told everyone in the group, and that evening we prayed and had to go around in a circle and say something aloud, and Amber prayed for my mom to become "moist".

My freshman year of college I was in a production of 1940's Radio Show, which involved a bit of swing dancing. Things were going well until we had to do a backflip - I tried a couple of times with help from Anthony, but wasn't quite making it. So we called the choreographer over, and I did it again, but this time I landed on my hand, and my ring finger on my right hand began to swell and turn purple. Of course I'm swearing up a storm and everyone's telling me "Oh it's just jammed", but when it was still twice it's normal size the next day, I decided to get it X-rayed. Shands (Lake Shore) said it wasn't broken and I should try to move it as much as possible.

Fast forward to a month or so later. I was in Gainesville having my knees looked at because they sounded like Rice Krispies whenever I bent them, and on a whim, I took my old Xrays of my hand. They redid it, and could see where it had healed, and so the doctor looked at the old one, and said "Yep, you can see it right there - it's a little hard to tell, but it showed up on the Xray." Thanks a lot Lake Shore! Oh - and I had to start going to physical therapy for my knees after that. The head doctor there looked like Kenneth Brannaugh.

My junior year of college I was sitting in my History of Animation class, when all of a sudden, I was having trouble breathing. I went to the clinic on campus, and saw the doctor who told me to eat only fruits (except bananas - too much sugar) and vegetables (because I also had a cold at the time) and oh - it was all in my head (Really? I would have never figured that out). That was it! So I waited a couple of weeks, everyday having the same problem - my throat would tighten as the day wore on, until I had problems breathing in the evening. I went to visit my grandmother, and she took me to the doctor, who said that I was having panic attacks and it was part of depression. (I was literally the last person in my family to start taking anti-depressants). He kept questioning me about what triggered it, and when I didn't know, told me that sometimes it's just a chemical imbalance. (But it wasn't - when I left town I was fine - coming back would start it all over again). Thankfully he gave me some medicine, and I was ok.

A few years ago I worked at a camp in TN for a couple of summers. Near the end of the second summer, the night before my birthday in fact, I got really sick. I spent my birthday lying in bed half the day with stomach pains, that is, until someone told me my friend (and boss) Java needed to see me. (I actually worked two jobs that summer. Java was my boss at the store of a rafting company). I came in and we talked, and then a rush of people came and she asked me to help. I did until I couldn't stand it anymore, and then had to go to the camp for an end-of-the-season party. I just laid my head on a table and sat there, then went home and drank some ginger ale and took some aspirin. The next day my stomach still hurt, but I was leaving the day after that, so I toughed it out.

It wasn't until I was back in Lake City (this is 5 days later) and still in pain that I went to the doctor. They did some tests, and after they finally did an ultrasound and saw air in my gall bladder that they figured out I had a really bad gall bladder attack. I had to stay in the hospital a week with an IV in my arm. The woman sharing my room had the same thing, and she was not the worst person I could have roomed with. However she was very country, she had just had a baby, and she had visitors CONSTANTLY. This is what I heard half the day (her talking to the baby in singsong voice): "Hey Zana! (pronounced like Dana, but with a "Z") What are you doing? What are you doing Zana? Zay-na!" I had to go back a few month later to have surgery to have my gall bladder removed. Fun.

Finally, almost a year ago I went to ER because I had this weird heart flutter that lasted all day. I've had it do that once every so often, but all day was really freaking me out, so I went to ER. They got me in right away and hooked me up to a monitor and did some tests. However I ended up having to sit there for 7 hours because the cardiologist they were calling to have a look at my monitor wasn't getting back to them. I ended up having to have an echocardiogram done, but nothing was wrong. They told me I just had to lay off the caffeine, and not stress out so much. I swear I really wasn't drinking that much caffeine though.

Awesome, right? *sigh* Well hopefully the stories were at least semi-entertaining.

This is ridiculous!

I swear, Glenn must have invented a computer virus that spreads through the internet yet infects people, because I too am now sick. It's currently nothing more than a head cold, and I'm hoping it doesn't get any worse.

So, have you ever heard of Vanuatu? Well, if you haven't, don't worry; I hadn't either. Turns out, the Republic of Vanuatu is a tiny nation in the South Pacific. You can read about it here, if you're interested. So why do I bring up Vanuatu in a discussion about health and sickness? Well, my health and well being is currently tied quite closely to Vanuatu. Given that with the life I've chosen for myself, I'm not likely to have health insurance any time soon, and given that I take two prescription medications (which yes, were indeed prescribed to me by a doctor; I'm not self-medicating), I have to get them from somewhere. I get them from an internet company based in Vanuatu, where they're half the price of getting them at a pharmacy in the US with no insurance. (I can't get them here in Korea either, in case you're wondering.) Wow, I was going to write more, but the NyQuil seems to be kicking in...

Say what you like about the tenets of National Socialism, Dude, at least it's an ethos.

I'm kinda back; I'm not fully back. As such, this post will be brief. (I wanted to compose a good long one, but circumstances have dictated otherwise.) This subject is also of importance to me as well, as I have been "sick" for the past couple of weeks (just a bit of a different kind of "sick" that won't be detailed here). So I will try to think of some past instances when I've been sick.

One problem is, I don't get sick. I had chicken pox when I was in kindergarten. I don't recall ever having the flu. I used to get a cold once a year when I worked in the library; since I don't deal with the germs inherent in working in a place like that, I don't even get colds too often- it's been probably close to two years since I've had a full-blown cold (I do have some allergy problems- but that doesn't count). The funny part about that is, I always think I am sick- I've always been a bit of a hypochondriac. I have, in the course of my life, diagnosed myself with everything from heart disease to brain aneurysm to pleurisy to skin cancer; and, of course, I go to the doctor and absolutely nothing is wrong with me. The upshot to that is, I see doctors regularly, so I keep up on my physicals, tests, etc.

I have only two relatively funny stories about sickness: In 1999 I took Ryan out for lunch for his birthday to a Chinese buffet (which still exists- it's the one in the Lake City Mall, Wangdong or whatever it's called). I was violently ill the next day. This was also less than a week into my new job, which was my job at the library, of which I had to already call in sick. I think I went back to that restaurant once, again with Ryan, but I seem to remember not eating much if anything.

A few years ago I had a cold, and this cold was accompanied by a persistent cough. This cough literally kept me up all night. I didn't want to call in sick the next day, after already having missed a day due to the cold, so I went to work a zombie (that day was my day to drive children's books to the various city daycares, so I drove that huge old library van (Steph, you know which one I'm talking about- the monster) up to a bunch of kiddie daycare places in a total stupor luckily not killing myself or any kids etc.). It was also the first and only time I drank one of those energy drinks, which made me so hyper that I had the shakes for about half an hour and then I pissed for five minutes and then felt even more tired. So that night when I got home, I just wanted to sleep. And I was going to take some cough suppressant that I just bought (I was so tired at this point, I didn't care about the cough anymore, but I was still fightin' it), and I was gonna sleep like the friggin dead. So I got home, and of course the first thing I did was take the cough suppressant (it was Robitussin). And as I went to go to bed, my roommate at the time came home. And, us being close, he wanted to talk. I wanted to go to sleep, but he wanted to talk, about something, a girl or something, you know, so I sat there for twenty minutes and let him talk. And, being so damned tired, I forgot I had already taken my medicine and I took it again. Five minutes later, I thought I was going to die. I could barely move or get up, my tongue hurt bad, I got the cold sweats, and my roommate was getting primed up to take me to the hospital. A minute later, I puked. After which, the cough was completely gone (from the puking- I don't give the tussin the credit for that). It was the last time I ever took Robitussin.

That's all I got. I sincerely hope everyone who feels sick starts feeling better soon.

Orange juice will save us all

It's very funny to me that I opened this blog yesterday with every intention to read it and start my own post, but then I got distracted and never came back to it. Wait, that's not why it's funny. I got distracted because I was home sick from work with a fever and stomach troubles and had zero energy and zero attention span. That's why it's funny. Sort of.

Obviously, I'm having more trouble concentrating today, although I'm back at work hopped up on generic Tylenol and tummy pills.

I've never been really sick, I don't think. I got chicken pox in kindergarten, but that was about the worst of it. I've never broken a bone either, except for my undiagnosed pinky toe. there's nothing they can do about that, so I just wrapped it up for a while.

One time I had to check myself out of the ER at Walter Reed Medical Center against doctor's orders, but that's another story. And is hard to do.

When I do get sick, though, I'm pretty bad about taking medicine. My boyfriend's mom is a nurse, so he was raised to take a lot of medicine and always tells me exactly what I'll need to combat whatever symptoms I may have. Do I listen? Rarely. I prefer to drink Sprite or orange juice and eat fruits and veggies until I feel better. I believe that by training my immune system to combat things on its own and not depending on medication I am making myself stronger and will be able to more easily fight off disease.

I also believe, however, that aspartame will kill us all and that if I put my snow shovel back into my closet it will undoubtedly cause another snow or ice storm. Some times I believe things that seem completely illogical. But I'm ok with that.
sorry this post isn't so great.

Sick sucks.

Today I am sick. This is after a few days ago remarking that it was miraculous that I had made it through this much of the semester without getting sick. Well, jinx. It's not a definite cold, and there isn't anything stomachy to it, but I have serious hot and cold streaks (it's 80 degrees in my apartment right now and I am freezing), and no appetite. Also I am dizzy. A poetry professor and a literature professor have both diagnosed me with the flu. I don't want the flu, so I am rejecting that diagnosis.

But this week's topic is being sick, and funny sickness stories. Or if you want to be political, maybe write about US healthcare. For instance, when I worked at my father's office for a while, one of the secretaries used to work at a big insurance company. She told me the company policy was to throw every third claim into the garbage, so it would delay payment that much longer. Most people wouldn't follow up on it for months, and the insurance companies would get to keep their money for a little while. That's a crazy!

Well, the last time I was seriously sick, like for days and days, was when I was a senior in high school. It was over christmas break, and I went downstairs to rest. Well, suddenly I was just weak and pukey, and I couldn't move for five days. Seriously, every time I stood up I would just pass out and wake up a half hour later on the floor. It pretty much blew. During that time I have very few memories. It's like my brain just clicked to animal mode. When I was conscious, it was as though I was watching from behind myself. I mean, not visually, but my mind seemed separated from my body. It was totally fucked up. So hopefully that doesn't happen this time, because I can't cancel class anymore without seriously retooling my lesson plans.

Also, last spring I lost my voice suddenly in the middle of poetry workshop. I couldn't speak at all, and it was my turn to be workshopped. Procedure is that we read our poems aloud. I had my friend Brian Russell read my poem out loud, and he did an impression of my usual reading style. Everybody says it was dead on, but I say I'll get you yet, Brian!

Finally, I recently had finger surgery, but the doctor really messed up my pinky and won't take any of my calls for follow up appointments. That dude sucks.