Pardon the eccentricities of borderline lucidity. Mayhaps the other way round. Negative symptoms are supposed to contain unintelligible rants, yet the speaker understands all. I'm not sure being on the giving side of this. I've postponed updating many a time due to flux caused by ineffective medication and poor cranial chemical imbalances. It's rather difficult to translate. I pause, and I digress.
The label applied changes considerably with time. For now, it is called Schizo affective Disorder. A type of schizophrenia but apparently with a slightly better prognosis. I've avoided this being out for all to see, but it's not like it's going to go away and maybe teach you about the illness and the kinds of things I see.
Will possibly amend later for further legibility or commentary. I shall leave that for another day. Lucidity in the late evening will dictate whether or not that will happen, but it's time to get it out there.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Doctor Rant v3.0 Final
I have noticed recently that the struggles in my life, though annoying, are becoming interesting passing memories. They don't build up as heavily as they have in the past. I attribute this mostly to my daily medication cocktail, but if I can't be sane without it, I'm glad I've found a somewhat good combination. I had a rather bad experience at my appointment a week ago, and have since had one thing after another happen. It seems the only thing that actually bothered me was the doctor's visit though. It made me realize just how bad it was comparing it to my other mishaps.
Do tell...
I went in last week for a bad earache. I had a low grade fever and had a very high fever the week before. The first doctor ignored it, though I probably should have been put on antibiotics. Over the next week, the ringing in my ears increased, I had more migraines, and I was bumping into things and getting bruises in places I don't remember hitting. I figure, I must have an ear infection, like my boyfriend was treated for a few days before. I reluctantly made an appointment and gave the reason 'inner ear pain' for the visit.
Before the doctor is notified that I'm here, the PA or nurse or whatever gives me a hearing test that I mostly pass. My heart rate was 122 at rest and my blood pressure was really low. The doctor comes in and talks with me about my symptoms. After 5 minutes of talking, she says there may be something wrong with my ears. My heart sunk and any shred of confidence I had in this clinic darted out the window. All that was running through my head while she was searching for 'the ear checking thingy' was "no shit Sherlock" and "thank you Captain Obvious," then "did she just call the otoscope a thingy???" She came back and laughed at the fact that it was hanging on the wall behind me. I almost cried.
She tried to look in my right ear and couldn't see anything. I asked "so there's no ear infection?" She said "no, I mean I can't see... I forgot to turn on the light..." I teared up a little. I wanted out of there so badly I almost didn't care about the pain. She turned the light on and looked in again. It was very painful and immediately evident that the eardrum had ruptured and was bleeding. She looked in the other ear and said it looked fine. I asked if the infection appeared to be bacterial or not. Why I expected anything other than the response I received, I don't know. She said she didn't think there was an infection as there weren't any signs of one.
............ I held back as much as I could, but I couldn't conceive how this ditz passed high school let alone med school.
I asked if my fever was a sign, the fast heart rate, the low blood pressure, the loss of equilibrium, or I don't know... the pain? She said she had to go speak to her boss about it and left the room. She came back 10 minutes later with a prescription paper in her hands and the check-out sheet with her. She said it sounded like it was vertigo. The bleeding ear is due to a puncture wound, the fever is due to a cold, the heart rate was due to one of my medications, and I was bumping into things because of the dizziness from vertigo. I held my breath a little and squeaked out the question, "and the low blood pressure?" I got "when was the last time you ate?" as an answer. I didn't even say I ate before I came and that the medication she was talking about has never in the 5 years I've been taking it done that. I just couldn't hold back anymore, I snapped.
For some reason, I cry when I'm really frustrated or pissed off, but not for many other reasons. If I'm really sad I just watch TV with a blank stare or sleep. In this case, I was just completely overwhelmed. She remarked on how it must suck to be told you have vertigo, but it's not that bad. What I said after that, I shan't repeat. It was very verbose and was spiced by some very colorful four-letter words. It felt like a direct insult to my intelligence to tell me that I was dumb enough to rupture my eardrum by sticking something in my ear. Not only that, but continuing past that point to hit something in my middle ear bad enough for it to bleed for over a week. I pride myself on my ability to convey a certain message eloquently and usually with an expanded vocabulary and very precise enunciation. I must not be as good as I thought, as I can figure no other way to assume that diagnosis was even remotely accurate.
Long story short, I didn't fill my vertigo pills, I cancelled my follow-up appointment and I'm going to find another PCP and/or clinic to go to. Until then, I will treat myself. I suppose I'm lucky to have a good psychiatrist. If I thought I would find later use for one, I would invest in my own otoscope. That way I know when I can use drops in my ears to help keep them clear.
I realise this is getting long, but I don't opt to rant online much. Perhaps this will be cathartic, and hopefully the final one. I mentioned earlier how this compares to the other things that have happened this week. I will mention them briefly so as to compare what I feel this experience is worse than. I don't mean to come off as wanting sympathy or a need to have the worst life or anything like that, as many of these things I actually enjoyed having done after the fact. Hurray for hindsight. Yes, that was sarcasm, and let the list begin.
I had to do data recovery on my computer. One of the programs I used to help me with it had a trojan on it. I had to close all ports on the network and find the protocol it was using to send data. I found it and erased it, but it corrupted a large part of the kernel and several of my programs. I had to do recovery on my system for three days to restore everything and then arranged the accounts on my computer so it would be near impossible to duplicate. I did yet more data recovery without the use of easier programs. I cut my tongue on something and it swelled nearly twice its normal size. I still have no clue what cut it. I had cereal and got really sick afterward. I don't think the milk was bad, but I would hate it if my dairy allergy has gotten that bad. I love cheese. I tried to refill my medications, like I do every month at this time, and all but one of them came up in the computer as needing prior authorization, even though I had refills on them. Apparently the pharmacy's computer glitched and erased the last month and a half of my medical history and when it was submitted to my insurance, it was flagged. I've been fighting every day since and am out of a few of my medications. Finally, I nearly broke my middle left toe on my desk while trying to scoot out of it. My foot slipped on the carpet and right into the corner of my desk. Luckily, it buckled when it hit and I only ended up losing about a third of my toenail. I'm sure I won't be limping for too much longer.
On the bright side of things, my toe isn't broken, I was able to save my computer and all data on it, I learned how to manipulate the system in many ways I didn't know before, and my hearing is slowly coming back. Oh, and I don't have vertigo! Yay!
Hurray for positive thinking! Yes, I am rather fond of sarcasm...
Do tell...
I went in last week for a bad earache. I had a low grade fever and had a very high fever the week before. The first doctor ignored it, though I probably should have been put on antibiotics. Over the next week, the ringing in my ears increased, I had more migraines, and I was bumping into things and getting bruises in places I don't remember hitting. I figure, I must have an ear infection, like my boyfriend was treated for a few days before. I reluctantly made an appointment and gave the reason 'inner ear pain' for the visit.
Before the doctor is notified that I'm here, the PA or nurse or whatever gives me a hearing test that I mostly pass. My heart rate was 122 at rest and my blood pressure was really low. The doctor comes in and talks with me about my symptoms. After 5 minutes of talking, she says there may be something wrong with my ears. My heart sunk and any shred of confidence I had in this clinic darted out the window. All that was running through my head while she was searching for 'the ear checking thingy' was "no shit Sherlock" and "thank you Captain Obvious," then "did she just call the otoscope a thingy???" She came back and laughed at the fact that it was hanging on the wall behind me. I almost cried.
She tried to look in my right ear and couldn't see anything. I asked "so there's no ear infection?" She said "no, I mean I can't see... I forgot to turn on the light..." I teared up a little. I wanted out of there so badly I almost didn't care about the pain. She turned the light on and looked in again. It was very painful and immediately evident that the eardrum had ruptured and was bleeding. She looked in the other ear and said it looked fine. I asked if the infection appeared to be bacterial or not. Why I expected anything other than the response I received, I don't know. She said she didn't think there was an infection as there weren't any signs of one.
............ I held back as much as I could, but I couldn't conceive how this ditz passed high school let alone med school.
I asked if my fever was a sign, the fast heart rate, the low blood pressure, the loss of equilibrium, or I don't know... the pain? She said she had to go speak to her boss about it and left the room. She came back 10 minutes later with a prescription paper in her hands and the check-out sheet with her. She said it sounded like it was vertigo. The bleeding ear is due to a puncture wound, the fever is due to a cold, the heart rate was due to one of my medications, and I was bumping into things because of the dizziness from vertigo. I held my breath a little and squeaked out the question, "and the low blood pressure?" I got "when was the last time you ate?" as an answer. I didn't even say I ate before I came and that the medication she was talking about has never in the 5 years I've been taking it done that. I just couldn't hold back anymore, I snapped.
For some reason, I cry when I'm really frustrated or pissed off, but not for many other reasons. If I'm really sad I just watch TV with a blank stare or sleep. In this case, I was just completely overwhelmed. She remarked on how it must suck to be told you have vertigo, but it's not that bad. What I said after that, I shan't repeat. It was very verbose and was spiced by some very colorful four-letter words. It felt like a direct insult to my intelligence to tell me that I was dumb enough to rupture my eardrum by sticking something in my ear. Not only that, but continuing past that point to hit something in my middle ear bad enough for it to bleed for over a week. I pride myself on my ability to convey a certain message eloquently and usually with an expanded vocabulary and very precise enunciation. I must not be as good as I thought, as I can figure no other way to assume that diagnosis was even remotely accurate.
Long story short, I didn't fill my vertigo pills, I cancelled my follow-up appointment and I'm going to find another PCP and/or clinic to go to. Until then, I will treat myself. I suppose I'm lucky to have a good psychiatrist. If I thought I would find later use for one, I would invest in my own otoscope. That way I know when I can use drops in my ears to help keep them clear.
I realise this is getting long, but I don't opt to rant online much. Perhaps this will be cathartic, and hopefully the final one. I mentioned earlier how this compares to the other things that have happened this week. I will mention them briefly so as to compare what I feel this experience is worse than. I don't mean to come off as wanting sympathy or a need to have the worst life or anything like that, as many of these things I actually enjoyed having done after the fact. Hurray for hindsight. Yes, that was sarcasm, and let the list begin.
I had to do data recovery on my computer. One of the programs I used to help me with it had a trojan on it. I had to close all ports on the network and find the protocol it was using to send data. I found it and erased it, but it corrupted a large part of the kernel and several of my programs. I had to do recovery on my system for three days to restore everything and then arranged the accounts on my computer so it would be near impossible to duplicate. I did yet more data recovery without the use of easier programs. I cut my tongue on something and it swelled nearly twice its normal size. I still have no clue what cut it. I had cereal and got really sick afterward. I don't think the milk was bad, but I would hate it if my dairy allergy has gotten that bad. I love cheese. I tried to refill my medications, like I do every month at this time, and all but one of them came up in the computer as needing prior authorization, even though I had refills on them. Apparently the pharmacy's computer glitched and erased the last month and a half of my medical history and when it was submitted to my insurance, it was flagged. I've been fighting every day since and am out of a few of my medications. Finally, I nearly broke my middle left toe on my desk while trying to scoot out of it. My foot slipped on the carpet and right into the corner of my desk. Luckily, it buckled when it hit and I only ended up losing about a third of my toenail. I'm sure I won't be limping for too much longer.
On the bright side of things, my toe isn't broken, I was able to save my computer and all data on it, I learned how to manipulate the system in many ways I didn't know before, and my hearing is slowly coming back. Oh, and I don't have vertigo! Yay!
Hurray for positive thinking! Yes, I am rather fond of sarcasm...
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Waking Reality
I seem to finally be over my ill stupor, and yet still my mind keeps drawing a blank on many of the topics I entertain myself in pondering. The only thing I can recall wondering about in the past week is where the line between dream and reality lies. I awoke this morning remembering that I was feeling much better and I don't need to call my myopic doctor again. The only problem with that memory is that it never happened. I just woke up. Is my subconscious mind trying to tell me something while I sleep, or is it just images formed during the process of 'rewiring' my synapses?
Do tell...
I notice I have the most difficulty with this when I'm ill or I've overexerted myself. I can't form thoughts as well a usual, my vocabulary drops significantly, and I find my self confused far more often. It makes me wonder if the reality we perceive is stored in our own mind, and what happens around us is just more input. So which part would be the 'real' one? Solid and tangible objects could certainly be construed to be 'real', but are they still the same thing if you can't see them, or feel them? A person without a sense of touch would not associate a Persian cat with being 'soft' or 'fluffy', so perhaps they would just associate it as 'white' or perhaps 'neurotic'. It all comes down to how things are labeled.
Labels are placed on the things we sense so that they can be sorted out in our brain for easier recall should that information be needed again. If everyone labels objects in their mind differently, then the comparative 'reality' is slightly altered. Things that one would associate as being 'frightening' could be seen by another as being 'fun'. Thus, even the tangible objects in our world are not always the same, except in our own mind. So the desire to learn and experience things is just a means of enhancing our own 'reality' with more data.
All of this leads me to the conclusion that dreams are the process of organizing the input recently received into relevant information for later use. Quite often, we don't even remember our dreams, because they're not actually anything new or recalled. Occasionally, we learn something from our dreams and create new information without even trying, and thus, we've added to our 'reality' while in the throws of an escape from the real world. A paradoxical thought to say the least.
Dreams are an extension to reality and to me this means that reality does not exist outside a living mind. Everyone lives in a different reality, which can be similar or greatly conflicted. This can lead to strong communities or war, depending on how the labels are placed. Something so simple becomes so complex, and vice versa. Or it could all be a dream, or perhaps a nightmare...
Do tell...
I notice I have the most difficulty with this when I'm ill or I've overexerted myself. I can't form thoughts as well a usual, my vocabulary drops significantly, and I find my self confused far more often. It makes me wonder if the reality we perceive is stored in our own mind, and what happens around us is just more input. So which part would be the 'real' one? Solid and tangible objects could certainly be construed to be 'real', but are they still the same thing if you can't see them, or feel them? A person without a sense of touch would not associate a Persian cat with being 'soft' or 'fluffy', so perhaps they would just associate it as 'white' or perhaps 'neurotic'. It all comes down to how things are labeled.
Labels are placed on the things we sense so that they can be sorted out in our brain for easier recall should that information be needed again. If everyone labels objects in their mind differently, then the comparative 'reality' is slightly altered. Things that one would associate as being 'frightening' could be seen by another as being 'fun'. Thus, even the tangible objects in our world are not always the same, except in our own mind. So the desire to learn and experience things is just a means of enhancing our own 'reality' with more data.
All of this leads me to the conclusion that dreams are the process of organizing the input recently received into relevant information for later use. Quite often, we don't even remember our dreams, because they're not actually anything new or recalled. Occasionally, we learn something from our dreams and create new information without even trying, and thus, we've added to our 'reality' while in the throws of an escape from the real world. A paradoxical thought to say the least.
Dreams are an extension to reality and to me this means that reality does not exist outside a living mind. Everyone lives in a different reality, which can be similar or greatly conflicted. This can lead to strong communities or war, depending on how the labels are placed. Something so simple becomes so complex, and vice versa. Or it could all be a dream, or perhaps a nightmare...
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Doctor Rant v2.0
I went in for my 'yearly' the other day along with the fever, cold sore, swollen tonsils, and the many infections I have going on. I have the first appointment of the day and was there 5 minutes before my appointment time. After the 30 minute wait for I don't know what, I'm finally taken back. A nurse weighed me and then took my temperature and blood pressure. All standard except for the fact that she didn't tell me what any of the stats were. She took me to a room and asked my why I'm here. I prattled of everything fairly efficiently and she left saying the doctor would be in soon.
Do tell... continue.
This is a new doctor for me, my old one left and referred me to her. I have no idea why though. The doctor gets in and can't figure out how to operate the light over the bed. That's a good sign. Then she drops a utensil that was recently removed from its hygienic packaging on the floor. She picks it up and sets it back with everything else. I'm clad the nurse was there to notice and get a new one. Fast forward, worst 'yearly' ever, but it's over.
I then ask for my results of my previous 2 blood work samples. She shuffles through my files and can't find them. So I start talking about the illness I've been suffering as of late, of which I apparently gave to my boyfriend. Hopefully he gets a better doctor. She fumbles through my files again and says everything looks fine. I ask her what the stats were when I was first brought in. “Oh” she replied and prattled off my weight, blood pressure, and temperature. I instantly saw a problem with two of the values. First thing out of her mouth was “I see you've lost 2 pounds since I last saw you... that's great!” I wanted to shove my file... well... use your imagination. I point out that I'm running a fever of 100.8 and my blood pressure is low. I show her my infections and describe how I've been feeling. She then said, “Oh, it sounds like you're sick.” I just about died inside.
I tried hard to resist the urge to slap her and say “No shit Sherlock! Last time I checked, I was told you're a doctor, but I could be mistaken...” I calmed myself and asked her what I should do. She then said “It's probably viral, so don't worry about it.” I then coughed a barking cough and she said, “Oh, you have a cough.” I said, “yeah, I've had it for over a week and my temperature reached 102.7 at one point.” It was her comment after this that I decided she was just another quack and this wasn't going to get anywhere no matter what I do. She said, “I'm sorry you have a cough. I'm going to go talk to my supervisor and see where those labs went.” Yeah.... you do that.
She comes back and said they were both normal and everything looks good. She shoved papers in my hands, instructed me how to get to the checkout counter, and then promptly left the room. If I see her again it will be in passing while I'm around waiting to see a different doctor. I'm probably going to look into seeing a different clinic too. Seriously, is the hardest part of med school being able to afford the tuition? I can't believe that some of these dolts could have passed anything more difficult than a ninth-grade science class.
Again, doctors wonder why people refuse to see them unless they absolutely have to. The insurance companies and now those who practice medicine are causing those that need said services not to pursue them. How could we let things go this far? My cynical view of the world is yet again reinforced.
Do tell... continue.
This is a new doctor for me, my old one left and referred me to her. I have no idea why though. The doctor gets in and can't figure out how to operate the light over the bed. That's a good sign. Then she drops a utensil that was recently removed from its hygienic packaging on the floor. She picks it up and sets it back with everything else. I'm clad the nurse was there to notice and get a new one. Fast forward, worst 'yearly' ever, but it's over.
I then ask for my results of my previous 2 blood work samples. She shuffles through my files and can't find them. So I start talking about the illness I've been suffering as of late, of which I apparently gave to my boyfriend. Hopefully he gets a better doctor. She fumbles through my files again and says everything looks fine. I ask her what the stats were when I was first brought in. “Oh” she replied and prattled off my weight, blood pressure, and temperature. I instantly saw a problem with two of the values. First thing out of her mouth was “I see you've lost 2 pounds since I last saw you... that's great!” I wanted to shove my file... well... use your imagination. I point out that I'm running a fever of 100.8 and my blood pressure is low. I show her my infections and describe how I've been feeling. She then said, “Oh, it sounds like you're sick.” I just about died inside.
I tried hard to resist the urge to slap her and say “No shit Sherlock! Last time I checked, I was told you're a doctor, but I could be mistaken...” I calmed myself and asked her what I should do. She then said “It's probably viral, so don't worry about it.” I then coughed a barking cough and she said, “Oh, you have a cough.” I said, “yeah, I've had it for over a week and my temperature reached 102.7 at one point.” It was her comment after this that I decided she was just another quack and this wasn't going to get anywhere no matter what I do. She said, “I'm sorry you have a cough. I'm going to go talk to my supervisor and see where those labs went.” Yeah.... you do that.
She comes back and said they were both normal and everything looks good. She shoved papers in my hands, instructed me how to get to the checkout counter, and then promptly left the room. If I see her again it will be in passing while I'm around waiting to see a different doctor. I'm probably going to look into seeing a different clinic too. Seriously, is the hardest part of med school being able to afford the tuition? I can't believe that some of these dolts could have passed anything more difficult than a ninth-grade science class.
Again, doctors wonder why people refuse to see them unless they absolutely have to. The insurance companies and now those who practice medicine are causing those that need said services not to pursue them. How could we let things go this far? My cynical view of the world is yet again reinforced.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
The Collective Mindset
Though many have criticized me for it, I have an obsession I don't know that I want to control. I see it in everyone I meet, but it takes on a different form in every individual. I love to collect things. I could write pages upon pages of things I've sought out in my lifetime. I have always picked up pennies off the ground, I have a rather large whisker collection (enough to fill the faces of more than 10 cats), and I collect things as inane as soda can tabs. It may be odd, but one can learn quite a bit from the brick-a-brack people like to keep around. There's also a deeper meaning behind all of this.
Do tell...
I've been "encouraged" to reduce the amount of some of my larger collections due to space issues. Now that I have lessened the things I own, I find myself missing them. I've noticed this causes me to hold onto what I have left much more, even though I have more than enough to sustain me. It's my stuff, and I want to keep it.
I wondered if this was just a quirk of mine, or if it was something many other people share. I searched around the net a bit, and realized that just about everyone who CAN get their hands on something, will do what they can to obtain it. Many philosophies of life see this as a weakness of human nature, and that one can become stronger by giving up the things one finds most enjoyable in life. I can see how this would make you appreciate everything you have even more, but is it really a flaw?
I've been told that the only things I should struggle to keep or fight for are the basic necessities. All one needs in life is food, water, and shelter. I was told that this is how the animals live and that we're weak if we can't. What about community? My lovebirds couldn't live without each other, nor could my rats. What of love? Procreation is essential in the continuation of a species, and is in turn made more enjoyable. I've had pets that wouldn't share their toys, get jealous over another pet, even openly agitate another seemingly out of spite. I've also noticed that the more intelligent an animal is, the more they are prone to these behaviors.
As humans are the best tool-users and one of the smartest species in the world, wouldn't this mean that it's only natural to crave more? Why must humanity overcome human nature, when so often it is used as an excuse? I'm not arguing this to justify having about a dozen used batteries on my desk (for some reason), but is it so wrong as to force oneself to go against natural desires? This topic is bordering on theology and the stigmas of civilized society. Though it is apparently a must for survival, as we are a community seeking beast, I still find myself straying from the pack on this topic. I guess this is better left to discuss when I'm not running a fever and am up at 4:30am (again, for some reason).
I must find away to learn more about philosophy without being evangelized, and human nature without getting into societal conflicts and politics. I tend to try to avoid cyclic arguments. I don't want to shun my obsessive collection, because the thing I enjoy obtaining the most is knowledge. I couldn't live with giving that up.
Do tell...
I've been "encouraged" to reduce the amount of some of my larger collections due to space issues. Now that I have lessened the things I own, I find myself missing them. I've noticed this causes me to hold onto what I have left much more, even though I have more than enough to sustain me. It's my stuff, and I want to keep it.
I wondered if this was just a quirk of mine, or if it was something many other people share. I searched around the net a bit, and realized that just about everyone who CAN get their hands on something, will do what they can to obtain it. Many philosophies of life see this as a weakness of human nature, and that one can become stronger by giving up the things one finds most enjoyable in life. I can see how this would make you appreciate everything you have even more, but is it really a flaw?
I've been told that the only things I should struggle to keep or fight for are the basic necessities. All one needs in life is food, water, and shelter. I was told that this is how the animals live and that we're weak if we can't. What about community? My lovebirds couldn't live without each other, nor could my rats. What of love? Procreation is essential in the continuation of a species, and is in turn made more enjoyable. I've had pets that wouldn't share their toys, get jealous over another pet, even openly agitate another seemingly out of spite. I've also noticed that the more intelligent an animal is, the more they are prone to these behaviors.
As humans are the best tool-users and one of the smartest species in the world, wouldn't this mean that it's only natural to crave more? Why must humanity overcome human nature, when so often it is used as an excuse? I'm not arguing this to justify having about a dozen used batteries on my desk (for some reason), but is it so wrong as to force oneself to go against natural desires? This topic is bordering on theology and the stigmas of civilized society. Though it is apparently a must for survival, as we are a community seeking beast, I still find myself straying from the pack on this topic. I guess this is better left to discuss when I'm not running a fever and am up at 4:30am (again, for some reason).
I must find away to learn more about philosophy without being evangelized, and human nature without getting into societal conflicts and politics. I tend to try to avoid cyclic arguments. I don't want to shun my obsessive collection, because the thing I enjoy obtaining the most is knowledge. I couldn't live with giving that up.
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