Archives for category: HEALTH

One year ago today, I was discharged from IMC in Murray. I had fruit and cottage cheese for lunch with the most delicious lemonade ever. People bitch about hospital food, but in our current state of evolution, it is delicious, and of course, nutritious.

My mom was sitting on the couch in my room and I remember having never felt better. My health had been in disrepair for a long time and my mental health was even worse. Imagine how happy I was to find out that I was indeed going to live. A very friendly pacific islander wheeled me to my moms car and off we went. I didn’t want to be wheeled out, but I guess wheelchair exits are mandatory. Mom and I went shopping for some new toiletries and I was able to go in with her. I could actually walk around the store with her without feeling like I was going to collapse in giant lump of failure.

A year later I am still fighting the fight and enjoying small victories everyday. I passed my GED with above average scores and I am taking Japanese lessons from my dad. I’m still unemployed but I am applying for jobs everyday.

I couldn’t have got to where I am without the love and support of my family and friends. Whether it was in text or in person, I couldn’t have done it alone. Thank you to everyone and 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.



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.



    What can I say anymore? It has been confirmed that I am indeed, the weird kid. This really didn’t come as a shock to me and I would assume didn’t come as a shock to anyone that knows me either. However, in a life full of uncertainty it was a genuine surprise to receive confirmation of…well….anything really. Feel left out? Prepare to have speed increased so you are caught up.

    Part of my new life includes nearly weekly blood test. Levels in my metabolic panel change so frequently and my doctors all give a damn that they monitor the hell out of me. I pretend sometimes to be upset by this, but I occasionally enjoy being taken care of. I always turn into a little boy when I am sick that just wants his mom to make him soup and tell him everything will be ok. Well I have been sick for almost a year now, so the attention waxes and wanes from beautiful to annoying. I realise this is my own brain making these determinations, so I will return to the story.

    Today I had a blood test to check my kidney function and potassium levels. For some funny reason, potassium and I do not get along. It’s pretty funny because my gangy always used to talk about bananas and potassium. So I assumed I was one of the only kids my age that was watching for that. Side note to that side note, I can only spell bananas by singing the Gwen Stefani song. I get lost in the “na”s so I sing it. jnan found that funny as do I.

    Back to the blood…

    For as long as I have been getting these tests, I have wanted to ask for a vial of my own blood. Why? Why not? I sit in a chair and am poked until I bleed. What’s my compensation (besides of course the reassurance that I am getting healthy…but that’s neither here nor there)? As I am pricked I stare at this clear plastic cubby full of different coloured tubes. Each tube coded for what test it is with a different additive. Medical science is very fascinating. Today, with my newly discovered courage, I asked the adorable phlebotomist my question. I thought it was reasonable, but I got the strangest look ever. Before she could answer, because I felt a huge “no” coming on, I countered with, “What, will you get in trouble?”
    “I don’t think so” she replied, still trying to gauge if I was just screwing with her, “no one has asked before. I don’t see why not, it is your blood”.

    With two tubes in her hand she says she will give me the first one. Confused I asked if she didn’t need it. I learned that when running a metabolic panel they need to remove all air from the line so as not to taint the sample. She was just going to throw away my blood. My blood. She reattached the first vial to fill it a little more and gave it to me. It has no additive since it is used only to clear the line. Now I sit here with a 3.0 ml vial of blood filled halfway. To everyone that has heard me recount this story, it has been met with the same facial response as the phlebotomists. I am ok with being weird. I am the kid with a vial of his own blood on his nightstand. What do you think Stephen King has on his nightstand? Think about it. Thanks for stopping by.



    In 8 hours I will be hooked up to a machine that was designed to read my brain waves. After 3 seizures and 2 ER visits, things are being taken a bit serious. Not by me of course, but by physicians and family alike. My neurology appointment got bumped from October 5th to a week ago. This may be in part to do with the fact that I had a seizure at school and was once again ambulance’d (a word I am making up) to the ER for more tests. The scary thought that I never woke up from the first episode was renewed after this latest one. Things still feel off and out of place, but I now have an ambivalence towards it.

    In regards to the EEG I have in 8 hours, they want me sleep deprived for it. They want me awake for 24 hours prior to the test in hopes I will sleep once I get there. I am sure I already nodded out for a few minutes, but I an back awake and alert. Then on Thursday I have a brain MRI scheduled. This is not my beautiful life. One benefit of feeling dead has been an increase in courage. I have been totally honest and forthright with people that I normally masquerade my feelings toward. It doesn’t benefit me one bit to not be honest. I know that for each person I told, nothing had changed. Their thoughts and feelings remain the same and I remain crushed. No matter. I am going to be who I am no matter how much I fight it.

    New questions arise regarding school and life. I have missed so much school already due to these seizures I think the smartest thing to do would be to try and start fresh next semester. I have to figure out things with classes and financial aid first, but in order to get the most out of my education, that nay be the route I take. I turn 26 in November, which means my insurance comes to an end. I need to find a replacement with my heart and brain disorders. Any lapse in coverage could result in permanent uninsurability. God bless America. My heart has sunk in my chest and I simply want to run away. If any of my friends still read this, I would appreciate a call sometime. I am sick of being the sole instigator. It feels like you couldn’t care less if our relationship survived and that hurts. I understand you have lives. I am not asking to be the Center of attention, but the occasional acknowledgement of my existence in your lives would be nice. If not, please leave your letter of resignation in my email. I don’t have time, patience, or emotional stability for one-way friendships any longer. Thanks for stopping by.



    Well friends, here we are. It’s another Sunday in, what I have come to understand as, my life. This is where things get scary for me. To go along with the previous post and research, I found a phenomenon that can happen after one has a seizure. I had been feeling what this was but had no name for it. Then I read this:
    An epileptic seizure, occasionally referred to as a fit, is defined as a transient symptom of “abnormal excessive or synchronous neuronal activity in the brain”. The outward effect can be as dramatic as a wild thrashing movement (tonic-clonic seizure) or as mild as a brief loss of awareness. It can manifest as an alteration in mental state, tonic or clonic movements, convulsions, and various other psychic symptoms (such as déjà vu or jamais vu).

    I knew what déjà vu was. I get that all the time. That feeling where you know what is going to happen because you have been in this situation before. Maybe you had a dream that is now manifest in your conscious life. But what the hell is jamais vu? Let’s read on.

    psychology, jamais vu (from French, meaning “never seen”) is the phenomenon of experiencing a situation that one recognises but that nonetheless seems very unfamiliar.

    Or, as I have been trying to explain to people, I know where I am and who you are, but I don’t. My house, my car, my family, and my friends (not listed in order of any importance) all seem like I am just meeting them or being there for the first time. I currently live with my aunt and mother in a house that I have known for many years. Yet, the day I came home from the ER, it felt like the first time I had been there and still feels like that to this day. Maybe this is what Madonna meant by “Like a Virgin”.

    Along with this feeling is another brilliant idea that I partially subscribe to. Have you heard of solipsism?

    – noun
    Philos. the theory that only the self exists, or can be proved to exist.
    extreme preoccupation with and indulgence of one’s feelings, desires, etc.; egoistic self-absorption.

    I don’t fully believe in this philosophy, but every now and again, I get this sensation where I see myself in third person and I have this feeling that nothing is real. So here I am, in my own head, overanalysing everything going so far as to think I am actually in a hospital bed at this moment in a coma. Dreaming these days up as well as dreaming everyone that is in my life and what happened to me. Dreaming while doctors and nurses shuffle in and out of my room. I know what you’re thinking. You think I am full of it. You think that I am making this up as some sort of hypochondriacs reaction. I know that 99% of the people reading this think it’s all in my head. Well, I’ve got news for you, you’re all in MY head. How does that feel? Not so good huh? Mental illness is very real. I have seen it first hand and fully believe I am experiencing some of it that I have never felt before. So where does that leave us? I am still waking up everyday. Still living my life, even if it feels like a dream. I am still scheduled for my EEG on October 5th and praying a cancellation will come through much sooner. After all, you can’t cut any corners when you’re running in circles. Life (or coma dream) will continue to happen, so I will keep participating. Let’s have a safe and fun labour day. Thanks for stopping by.



    Let me tell you a little more about myself. I am quirky. Eccentric. Weird. Call it what you wish, I am a unique person. One of my traits was brought up today…or yesterday…as a negative. I am not one to argue against reasons to call me weird or different, but this is something I actually think is normal.

    I am an inquisitive person by nature, and when something new enters my life, I need to find out whatever I can. For example, when I was diagnosed with heart failure, I began researching everything I could. Whether it was medication, surgery, diet, or a myriad of other associated terms, I wanted to know what I was in for. Another prime example was when I was getting high. I knew that I wanted to be numb, but I didn’t want to die. So I researched every drug and drink before I took them. Now, after abusing the first drug all that research became null and void. My inhibitions were eradicated and caution wasn’t just thrown to the wind, it was sent soaring off the highest cliff imaginable. Back to the point…

    After I had a seizure I began reading everything I could on the subject. This was done to not only cope with what happened but also to prepare for what might come next. Until I see a neurologist I have to assume another one is possible. I was talking with one of my sisters about it and I was asked “…and how do you know this?”. Before I could respond, little asn piped up and said “because all he’s been doing since it happened is reading about seizures!”. I didn’t think it was weird, but it gets brought up a lot. My mother is convinced my calling in life is to be a pharmacist, considering I read everything available on the drugs I do take. I call them by compound name and not by some dumbed down term. I don’t call them heart pills, because I take different ones. I take carvedilol and lisinopril for my heart specifically. When I talk of my pills to anyone I get a look of “Oh…that’s nice”. I don’t take offence to it at all, it’s just one of my many growing geriatric features. Sitting around comparing ailments and medications with war vets that have hearing aids. That’s what life has become. The reason I bring this up right now is because of some reading done on the seizure. Look at the non blurred text in the picture below.


    A Finnish death metal band? Now that’s just plain funny. Reading always yields something to make me smile. The fact that in this world we need to differentiate between an epileptic episode and a Finnish death metal band is enough to lighten any mood. Next post is going to be a bit more serious and possibly scary. I hope you’re as excited as I am. Thanks for stopping by.



    Well friends and family, it is almost a week later. What has happened to me you might be wondering. I am glad you asked!

    School has started and I am truly loving it. I am still the shy boy that doesn’t talk in class, but I enjoy class. So it’s a plus.

    Health? It’s good and uncertain. My heart is a strong 30-35% ejection fraction. Hooray! What was I worried about? I should have went with my gut and waited until Dr. Miller had a chance to review it, but I didn’t. I freaked out and made some stupid decisions. In light of all that, we are still pushing exercise and medication. I need to be above 35% at my next echocardiogram to be considered in the clear. My hopes are definitely high for the upcoming months.

    I have yet to hear from my neurologist to even see her, let alone have the test. I am even looking forward to the electroencephalogram (EEG) because it may provide some information on insomnia and nervous ticks I have. As I write this I am going on no sleep and I can’t quit tapping my foot. Maybe a new life is just around the corner. I am excited to keep going on this journey and will provide updates all along. I hope you are enjoying these posts and I look forward to more updates. Thanks for stopping by.



    Hello dear readers. I want to preface this by saying, I have the greatest friends and family a boy could ask for. Today while hanging out with my friend Malora, I had a seizure. Even better, I was driving at the time. I have no idea what happened and awoke to her on the phone with 911. I was trying my hardest to start my car and keep driving, but wasn’t allowed. Good thing because I was truly terrified of what had happened. The fact that I just awoke and couldn’t remember anything was very scary. Of course, the way I deal with this fear is humour. I kept making jokes much to the chagrin of Malora and my family. So for today I had a few firsts. One of which was the ambulance ride and the other was a CT scan. Although, a CT scan isn’t totally different than a few of the heart tests I have had, but it was still a first.

    For now there is no cause and I have to get an EEG. Now I have a team of cardiologists and a neurologist. This is not my beautiful life. I feel ok and I am relaxing for now. My body is super tight and there is always the worry that this is a new lifelong ailment. I hope for the best and will keep you updated. Thanks for stopping by.