Doctor Doctor, got some news…

So apparently, the labs aren’t done yet. They tell me it’ll be about a week. However, we DO now have a name for my arms and legs going numb/burny at random moments. It’s this stuff right here. The kicker is, I don’t have diabetes mellitus, so there’s no apparent reason for this to be happening to me.

So now we just sit and wait for the labs to come in.

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Doctor, doctor, ain't got no news…yet

I know I’ve been a little antisocial lately, so here’s a friendly fennec fox to break the ice.

Anyway, I got to the doctor today, and told him that yes, I want the Topamax for my migraines because it’s making me functional; yes, I know that it’s not a good idea to take medicines prescribed to someone else; yes, I was taking the risk anyway because otherwise I was intentionally overdosing myself into a torpor to get a modicum of rest; and yes, I know there would be bloodwork involved and GUESS WHAT, I’m already fasting so come at me doc-bro.

I also explained the annoying as hell blisters that I’m getting in my mouth, the odd lesion/laceration that’s cut its way around and into my cheek outside in, the weird-ass blisters and raw areas, the total numbness that my feet and arms are getting, and the fact that three hours of last Saturday went missing. Oh, and the stupid knee, and waking up and my leg being as responsive as a log.

We’re looking at a couple forms of anemia to be the GOOD!bad news that we find. I say that because the OTHER thing that everything matches up with IS IN FACT LUPUS and we’re doing all this blood work to actively attempt to rule THAT out.

I’m thinking protein shake then bed.

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Would you believe I'm not dead?

As you may know, I suffer from chronic migraine. That basically means that not only do I have especially debilitating migraine headaches, I usually get them for about half the functional days of the month—sometimes more.

It…REALLY FUCKING SUCKS.

It sucks so bad, in fact, that I am actually taking a medication that I haven’t gotten a formal prescription for. Yes, I know that you’re not supposed to do that. You know what else you’re not supposed to do? Mix up your pills in the search for the combination that will knock you unconscious safely so that you can attempt to be productive the next day at work.

The good news is that the new pill works really fucking well. I’ve felt three of the poundy bastards attempt to get revved up, only to kind of fizzle out somewhere around the third thud on my temples.

The bad news is that this thing makes me trip balls. Or it could be good news. It’s been benign. Piplups and the Mario 64 penguins sliding down the big hill on my uncle’s property while an Eevee brings me roses to decorate my wheelchair with. (That high.) It does, however, give me wicked bad acid reflux. It got to a point where I was eating a single meal a day, and that was a tiny meal. I was supplementing that meal with a protein shake, divided into thirds throughout the day so that I didn’t burn out too quickly. I lost a fuck ton of stamina that way.

I finally got fed up and spoke to my pharmacist, who didn’t ream me over the ninja’d Topamax (he helped me track down my AWOL doctor) but helped me get a deal on a very strong acid blocker without asking too many questions. Within a couple hours I was in a food coma.

I had two grilled cheese sandwiches and a cup of tomato sauce.


It’s been four days now, and I’m slowly getting my strength back. I don’t have to hibernate as much as I have been over the last week or so because I can actually eat again, but my stamina is NOT what it used to be yet. It takes longer to get it back than it takes to lose it, and I’m going to have to be patient. My exercise to get back into the routine has been to work carefully at rearranging the apartment—I’ve recreated a desk area that I can actually comfortably sit at using my wheelchair, lifting my little table onto the chair that wasn’t being used, and using the space between for the printer and laminator that aren’t being used either for lack of things to print and/or laminate. Old school platformers are reminding my brain how to move quickly (time dilation is another side effect), reading murder mysteries and basic physics are teaching my brain how things work together again, and when I can actually get it, work itself is giving me a physical workout.

I’m hoping to be fully functional again by Friday. =)

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Someone asked me how to be more confident. I broke it down for them like this.

Carry yourself like you own this damn town. If that feels a bit much, carry yourself like you will own this damn town soon. Look nice. Put on that outfit that makes you feel like the pimp in the Jay-Z track. Despite what all those self Help books say the human animal is a visual creature, and the biggest part of the First Impression™ is what you eyeball.

You know those interests you have that would never come up normally? When they do and everyone else is stymied, BAM! there you are with the knowledge. Instant boost. Remember that feeling.

Don’t know what’s something but want to know? Ask. BAM. You’re the guy who listens and doesn’t pretend to know everything. People like that.

After a while of this you’ll start noticing something — people calling you the confident nice dude/ette who knows XYZ but isn’t afraid of stepping back when something is way over your head.

And the kicker? You haven’t done anything different. Stood up a little straighter, maybe. Hair cut, nails nice. Pleasant to be around to boot, head on your shoulders not just for decoration.

Who WOULDN’T want to hang with that?