Posts Tagged ‘medical issues


Who needs lungs, anyway?

Not me, apparently. The doctors are… charming… individuals. They have decided that they have problems in good faith as marking me as actually having a problem because I am capable of blowing into a tube really hard.

This is called spirometry. If you’re lucky enough to have not had to do this, what it entails is they shove a tube in your mouth, tell you to breathe normally for a few seconds, then take as deep a breath as you can before blowing it out as hard and long as you can.

I apparently test very well in this department. The fact that it hurts like a bitch to draw that breath, and that I see stars, almost faint, or go into 2 minute long coughing fits after doing it is apparently irrelevant to the results. They normally do this three times, but had to do it seven for me, because two of the results were “not good enough” (couldn’t blow hard enough for it to register) and two more were interrupted by coughing fits while I was trying to blow.

But yeah, no, nothing wrong here, right?

They say my weight is likely to have something to do with the problem, neglecting that I used to be 260 pounds (which, at 6 foot 5, isn’t all that hefty) but have put on 40 pounds in the last year, primarily due to a sedentary lifestyle in attempts to avoid as many asthma attacks and coughing spasms as I can. Also neglecting they upped my antidepressants (for all the good they do me lately), which can have a negative impact on weight. It’s almost like the problems caused the weight gain, not the other way around, but hey, what do I know? (I mean, aside from having been exposed to medical texts since a young age and at one point having aspirations of being in the psychiatric field, which required med classes…)

They have done multiple X-rays of my chest, and have me scheduled for a CAT scan, an EEG and an EKG. Who knows what any of that will show, though at this point I suspect they’ll say “Well, looks fine, as long as you lie perfectly still, don’t talk, and have doubled up on all your meds in preparation for surviving the two hours of driving and six hours of poking and prodding we’re going to do.” Neglecting that perhaps the problem is that I have to sit still, not talk, and double down on meds to do anything more strenuous than walking to the bathroom.

The shrinks have yet to weigh in on anything, as they apparently think leaving a schizophrenic with bipolar depression who’s having all kinds of other medical problems and is bloody miserable to swing in the wind for months while they “figure out” when the doctor can see them is totally okay. But don’t worry, they sent me to a therapist.

I am about 99% certain my problems are not relating to anything a therapist can help with. I’m well aware of the historical and current stressors on my mental state and am quite capable of dealing with them on my own. I doubt they’re going so say “well, have you thought of it like this” and a magic lightbulb will go on and I will be healed. Fairly certain my mental issues are chemically related, need a tweak to my meds, and are being exacerbated by external stressors, not created by them.

The doctor also tells me I need church. I neglected to point out that I was sent to Catholic school for a chunk of my childhood, followed by LDS doctrine up through high school and had Jehovah’s Witnesses try to recruit me, all without having any real relief from my problems, medical or otherwise, while piling on more guilt, shame, self-loathing and abuse. I don’t think Jesus is going to kiss my boo-boos. (Or Allah, Buddha, Krishna, Vetala, Shiva, Satan, Lucifer, Odin, Baal, the Green Man, Zeus, the Horned God, aliens, the Flying Spaghetti Monster or any other higher or lower power you may or may not subscribe to.)

Then to top it off, I got slapped yesterday with a summons. I’m being sued in Small Claims Court over $500 of medical bills. Yay.

I wouldn’t consider myself suicidal – I am far too afraid of what afterlife may await, or the possibility that I’m already in it, to take the plunge – but I won’t deny that every day the sharp objects look a little more appealing and the urge to even crawl out of bed looks more pointless.

Anyway. Sorry for the depressing post; just needed to vent a bit. Hopefully we’ll have some more of Dr. Gale tomorrow.

As always, if you think you can help out, my Patreon is right here, and if you want to contribute to the surgery/medical/staying alive until I can fix this fund over on GoFundMe, it’s right here. Never required, but always appreciated, and even if you can’t donate, a share helps, too. Thanks to everyone who already has, and again, no guilt if you can’t or won’t.

Take care, everybody.

KA Spiral no signature


Doctors are Evil

I am wiped the hell out after today’s doctoral adventures, so this will be short and bitchy.

  • I just want to say: it is ridiculous that I have to play pinball with five different doctors, all of whom are pointing fingers at each other for who needs to fill out paperwork so my employer knows I’m borked and they’re trying to fix me. On top of spending all day without my meds or eating and being subjected to spirometry, which is a miserable experience as I’m sure anyone who’s dealt with it knows. CAT scan and EEG next week. Hooray.
  • Anyway. Sorry for nothing exciting today. Hope everyone is well.
  • 23

    Keeping Boats Afloat

    “Whatever floats your boat.” It’s a phrase I’m fond of, for no particular reason. It’s frequently spoken slightly dismissively, usually in relation to a habit or endeavor that evokes little or no emotional response in myself but that seems of interest or import to another. Doubly so if it’s an interest or important subject that I don’t understand why it’s important.

    Everybody’s out there just doing their thing, living their lives. Frequently the things going on in one person’s life are of no relevance to another. That’s how we get along; doing our best to keep our own boats floating without crashing into someone else’s or letting them ship water onto ours to save their own.

    Maybe I’m going too far with the analogy. Oh well.

    There’s going to be some whining and begging here, so you are free to skip with no hard feelings. I’m doing my best to get more content up, which isn’t always easy for reasons we’ll delve into in a moment, but hopefully there’ll be some more stuff for fiction, gaming or general horror fans soon.

    I’ve had a lot of health problems this year. Severe jaw infection, pneumonia twice, strep, mold infection in the lungs, severe asthmatic beatdown from multiple forest fires, poisoned by algae in the water supply, constant fights with depression, schizophrenia and bipolar disorder and now the potential of autism rearing its head. I’m a bloody mess.

    None of those things help with writing, obviously; worse, they make it hard if not occasionally impossible to work, which means no money, which means no meds, which exacerbates the problem, compounding it exponentially.

    To continue the above metaphor, the boat is springing leaks faster than I can find corks and bail water; drowning becomes an ever-more-realistic prospect… in a more literal way than one would like, given the penchant for lung problems I possess.

    So, anyway. That’s why you haven’t seen much of me lately; I’m either lying on the couch staring at a visual novel while hooked up to a nebulizer or scrambling in brief periods of wellness to try to catch up or sleeping off the latest cocktail of medications that will supposedly fix me “any day now.”

    I need help. (“So what?” I hear you say, “So does everyone!” I hear you shout.) So I turn here, where there are supposedly roughly 400 people who pay at least some attention to the things I say and do.

    First, to each of you that reads this blog, pays attention to my Tweets, watches my videos or has bought or read my books, thank you. Intellectual and moral support by way of the idea that someone, somewhere is paying attention and may even like my stuff matters. Keep at it.

    To those of you who’ve been in bad places and crawled out, or take pity on those who are sitting in their mental and physical caves somewhere despite not having been there themselves, or those who’ve drawn some entertainment or inspiration from the things I’ve done, thank you.

    To all of them (and anyone not already covered who happens to read this) give me a moment of your time; I have a GoFundMe and a Patreon, both of which are there to help me keep paying for my meds and keep the lights on in those periods where I can’t work. If you feel like it, you can drop by and drop something in the bucket. Doesn’t matter if it’s a dime or a thousand, it’s appreciated and helps. But don’t think this is just a begging drive; sure, cash is great, but there’s less physical ways to show that what I do matters to someone.

    A like. A share. A “keep at it, bro” e-mail or Tweet. Something to show that I’m not beating my head against a wall in the hopes that the concrete cracks before my skull and shouldn’t just throw my hands up in the air and walk away or let myself go down with the ship.

    Okay, I’m done whinging for now. For those more interested in “real” content, I should have the second chunk of “Three Blue Hearts” up during the coming week, and I’m trying to put something together for Halloween – might be a stream of Death Mark or Call of Cthulhu, might be a livechat, might be something else, suggestions are welcome.

    That’s all for now. And don’t forget, go hug your favorite artist or mentally ill person (or both) today. They probably need it.

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