Archives for the month of: November, 2011

Someone tell me how I feel

Today feels full and busy. Feels like I have a million things to do and I only have today to do them. Truth is, the day is light. It’s actually just about a half dozen phone calls to make and then pick up around the house. Easy right?

In my head, there is nothing more terrifying than initiating contact with a company. I used to be a pro at it, but I haven’t had to call anyone for a year. Today I have to call my neurologist, cardiologist, insurance company, and then some incoming calls. The incoming ones aren’t as bad because all I have to do is answer and respond. The ones where I am required to initiate and explain what I need, want, and make sure my meaning isn’t lost is terrifying. They all have to do with my health and I always feel like I am missing something.

I don’t like being a grown up. Not one sodding bit. The bottom line is, I have to deal with these things now. Procrastination only leads to massive panic attacks later. So throw those curtains wide, one day like this a year would see me right. Thanks for stopping by.




Today I had a follow up with the heart clinic. Lovey group of people with a singular goal: get you healthy. It’s their master plan if you will. Today revealed my weight was up quite a bit and my breathing was worse. The first thing I thought of was “what the cuss?! we had a master plan!

My diet and exercise have been the same since leaving the hospital in March with the exception of fluid restriction. As I am not retaining fluid, I do not have to ration. Pretty rational.

In fact, if anything, my exercise has become better. Longer distances, less breaks, working up a real sweat. le sigh

I also informed them of my predicament with my insurance coming to an end on Saturday and being out of pills. Plans were made for that and I will still see them on a monthly basis while we wait for medicaid to answer or for me to find a job. I submitted about 15 applications this morning, so I am hoping for a bite out there. Fishing is supposed to be peaceful. Not job fishing (I don’t hunt).

One strange thing happened today that had nothing to do with my health. More to do with my paranoia. A slender man came in to have his defibrillator checked. The same device I denied to be put in. Not that strange considering I was in a heart clinic. The strangeness, he was born on 11/19/1963. 22 years older than I. Maybe this is something all 11/19’ers share. Maybe CGB Spender had something to do with this illness too. Preparing for colonisation. Or maybe I should stop watching X-Files before bed. Mayhaps. Thanks for stopping by.



In life, just as in film and television, there are second takes. Tertiary takes. Multiple takes in which we try to get things just right. We’ve been brought up to make a great first impression, because you only get one. We are also brought up to not judge a book by its cover. First impressions are just the cover of your personality. So we are taught to be charming and alluring covers that no one is supposed to judge. Life. What an exhausting and aggravating series of contradictions we put up with.

The only reason I brought up multiple takes is because this is the third revision of this entry. Not just in my wording or witty title linked to both theme and the music I am listening to as I write, but in the theme as a whole. Usually once I start on a theme, I just go on until I am tired of grinning at my own wit. This time, it was different.

So many emotions are running through my head and I can’t focus on one. The only thing I know is I don’t want to be a downer. The first two attempts focused on the sad and scary events to come. Why focus on that? I need to make a good first impression to those that this is a first entry for. If you are new, don’t judge me by my cover. Don’t judge me even though I have thought and rethought what to say so that if this is the first time for you, you will love and accept me. You will take me off the shelf, read me cover-to-cover, and bug your friends about this great new book you found.

I am stuck. Stuck up. Stuck up on this shelf. I am trying to dust off the cover and patch any torn bindings so you won’t run at first glance.

My focus is on the week to come. Another doctor visit. Another birthday. Another attempt to remain calm when my only thought is to run far away. This week will be good. I’ve already written three days in a row and ran the last two days. Things are off to a steady start. Let’s hope for the best as I reach to rip my heart from my chest. Thanks for stopping by.



A little over a fortnight ago I was in the emergency room. I went by myself this time which felt a little strange, but in a good way. Finding comfort in solitude is my new goal.

I had gone in because I was fainting and had chest pains that just became too immense to ignore. You tell anyone in the ER that you are a heart patient and they DO NOT mess around.
Tests ordered:

  • EKG
  • Chest X-ray
  • Full blood panel
  • Exhocardiogram
  • and another test that I am dedicating an entire entry to. First time I’ve had this one. Hooray.
  • As I lay hooked up to multiple machines, I could only talk to myself. ERs are busy places and can be super lonely. While in my own head, I start freaking out over the echocardiogram. What if my ejection fraction went down? What if they found some blockage? Which of course led to, I’m going to die.
    I fully believe I am my own worst enemy.

    The doctor comes in and orders 1 litre of fluid as I am super dehydrated at this point. He tells me that he called my cardiologist. My heart stopped.

    Doc: Are you familiar with the term “ejection fraction”?

    adn: Of course. I’ve been a heart patient for almost a year now. I know lots. Quiz me! I tend to get annoyingly joke-y when I feel that death is at my door.

    Doc: Do you remember what it was at your last echo?

    adn: 30-35%

    Doc: Well it’s gone up to 35-40%

    He said it so matter-of-fact-ly. That is great news! I am still going up! He tells me he has called my cardiologist to inform him. Now I feel like a total bother. It’s now 2 am and he called my cardiologist to say “all’s well”. Just like those buzzards in Robin Hood. 12 ‘o clock and all’s well!

    Dr. Stephen Miller happens to be an amazing cardiologist and looks just like my friends dad and Jeff Conaway put together in some well aged hunk stew. He put me on a heart monitor, again. So now my heart beats are recorded and sent to Skynet for evaluation. I thought it would be super funny to really exert my heart and have the monitor suddenly stop. First thought was coitus, but I have no partner. So I went for an extra long run and when it was over, took the leads off and took a shower. I don’t know of anyone has seen the spike yet or even cares. Regardless, I had a hearty chuckle. Get it? Hearty? Damn I am clever.

    Anyway, the whole point of this boring story was to confirm my heart is on the mend. Just in time too. I suppose. Thanks for stopping by.



    Compulsion: the new fragrance by adn. Top notes reeking of desperation and fear with just a hint of personality to tickle your mid palate. Alas, the lingering odour will offend you and you will leave.

    In high school I remember an instance where I was attempting to comfort a friend in time of loss. Not real loss, mind you, high school loss. The “one” he thought he was going to marry. Ha. This friend went on and on, spewing forth tired and tried lines such as “why doesn’t she love me?!”. I could only think of one thing to say. One thing that I felt was true and would bring his spigot for eyes to a restful and much needed close. I said to him “while the whole world may not love you, you will never love the whole world”. He had this need to be loved by everyone and not be second in anyone’s book. At the time I was baffled. I was a very typical high school student. The kind that felt everyone was against them, so they stayed on the defensive. Hating you first so that you can’t hate them. In your face! These types were not as atypical as they wanted to believe. So his reaction to her no longer loving him, to me, felt far too overdramatised.

    Cut to present day adn. Sitting alone and trolling through various social networking sites seeing people’s engagement notices and “we’re pregnant” notices and I feel sick. Jealous sick. Why doesn’t this person love me? I love them. Why am I not married? Why am I single? adn, take your own advice to heart.

    while the whole world may not love you, you will never love the whole world.

    To present me, there are only two types of love. Love between family and love between…well…lovers. Boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, wives, in whatever variation you please. I fall in love with damn near complete strangers based solely on physical appearance. Then when they leave for another, I turn into an angry, jealous, and wounded bear. If I were Native American, I think that would be my Indian name. These people don’t even leave me. We were never together. We were friends and I was crushing. Crushing hard. So all my hatred and hurt is my own fault. I cause my own pain because I don’t like people in the normal way. I don’t get to know them and take things in order. Any girl I have ever been with has started out as makeout buddies and then when they wanted more, I put up a wall. Not a wall I believed in. A wall because I was afraid that I would get hurt. That’s me. adn, defensive lineman in the game of love.

    I am taking this opportunity to say, I am pledging a life of celibacy. I haven’t given love the chance it deserves. The love it needs to flourish and grow. I have treated it like an object. As much as I thought I was a nice guy, that was a lie. I was always simply trying to get a kiss. I said anything you wanted to hear just so you would like me. And then, in the off chance we developed feelings, I showed you I was just like the rest. This applies to every girl I have kissed. Some I have genuinely fallen for but the majority were just kissin’ buddies in my time of lonely desperation.

    Don’t buy this scent. It’s over for my love life. I will love me. Love my family. The truth is, I don’t want to get hurt.

    ’tis better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.

    Horse shit. I don’t want to risk it. I am not that strong. Thanks for stopping by.