Yeah, that's right. Of course, I have nothing to say really. I almost thought of something this morning but then I didn't. How do I know I almost thought of something? Because I remember thinking "hey, that's something" but now I only remember thinking I had something, not the something.
Wouldn't that be an awesome power to pick and choose what you wanted to remember? For example do I want to remember?:
My phone number from my first house I lived in until I was 12? No.
My son's social security number? Yes.
My blood type? Yes.
The license plate my mom had on her 82 Corolla in 1987? No.
Unfortunately none of these are the case. Not to mention that I have a somewhat poor memory as it is. I recall distinctly as a child watching cartoons on Saturday morning, changing channels (to one of the other two) and forgetting what I was watching almost immediately and having to channel surf like mad to not miss the show I was previously on.
Alzheimer's at 7? Eeeeeh, its a possibility.
There, a whole post with no start no end and barely a middle. I'm back b!tches!!!!!!
Most likely no one from the "good ole days" is still reading this. Its my fauly of course. I've been "cured" so to speak. No issues in quite some time. In fact, I had a Dr. appointment last week and turns out, I'm not dead...yet. However, that's not the reason for this post.
Today is the one year anniversary of the rest of my life. One year and one day ago I woke up and told my wife of 13 years that I was leaving. A lot has changed (and a lot hasn't) since then. We've begun the official proceedings of our divorce (mediation). Some things are going better than others. Some things are going much worse than I had hoped. But whenever you're dealing with humans you're bound to be surprised.
All in all I can say that I've never been happier. I'm still with the same woman I last wrote about. We've had a lot of trials and tribulations. Most we've resolved, some we've decided weren't worth arguing about and have decided to just not argue about.
Anyway, I thought I'd check in and see if any of the peeps were still around. I check the blogs listed here from time to time to see how ya'll are doing. I hope those of you with similar (or not) problems have been able to find the same kind of peace and happiness that I have in the past year.
I meant to post this a while back but haven't gotten around to it. Once day I was having a discussion about whether a zebra was a black horse with white stripes or a white horse with black stripes. To most people there is no distinction. Its just a striped horse.
This brought about the existential question (you knew there had to be one), "am I a sane person feeling sick or a sick person feeling sane?" I've had some really good months since I left the house. I actually got bitten by two fire ants recently and, surprisingly, I didn't die. Of either the bites or panic. It wasn't the best few hours of my life, waiting for impending doom, but I got over it.
Things have been going well otherwise. Job is good, relationships are good, kid is good, its all good. Hope all of you are doing the same.
P.S. According to Wikipedia, zebras are black with white stripes. Who knew?
Where to start... Lots has happened since I wrote last. OK, somehow that last sentence doesn't seem grammatically correct. Lots have happened? A lot has happened since I written last? I've written. Lemme start over.
A lots has happened since I've wrotten last. Where to begin...
The Doctor Visit:
So there I was... Actually it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I started stressing about it on Friday (the appointment was on Tuesday) but then quickly let it drop. When I got there I was nervous but manageable. When he started to take my BP of course I freaked out. He says, "lets just sit here for a minute. So I did. When he took it again he said, "That's what I thought...". So, of course, I say "um...what does that mean? What was it?". To which he responds, "The first time I took it you looked like you'd seen a ghost." To which I responded, "I did and the ghost is that thing you put on my arm". He didn't find it funny.
My Butt Aneurysm:
This is a short one. I'm on my way somewhere in my car and suddenly I realize that my butt (actually my butt-back connector, you might call it a "hip") was starting to go numb. Not numb so much but almost like it was tingling. I started to freak a little bit. Then it started to feel more like a vibration. It was my cell phone...
This one's a little more serious. My "friend" is a rather fit 33 year old woman. She works out daily with a trainer and could outrun me with one leg tied behind her back. But, after one of her workouts she made a comment that one of her ears was clogged up and she chocked it up to her "blood pressure being high from the workout". This is of course junk science but, god bless her, she's trying. How ever, the mere mention of the words blood pressure is enough to get me a little panicky. Then she sends me an IM about 5 minutes later saying that she's seeing spots. Like a large red pulsating blob in the middle of her vision in both eyes.
I'm starting to freak a bit more and, frankly, so is she. Then it gets bad. She starts to lose the ability to type and comprehend words. Words like "may" and "work". She forgets her ex-husbands name and where he works. I start thinking about getting her to the ER but she tells me that this has happened once before and it was ruled a migraine after a trip to the ER and a complete workup by a neurologist. At some point her fingers and toes begin to go numb and she starts slurring her words.
This is scary. She insisted that this was a migraine and, it seems, all the 'literature' (spelled G-O-O-G-L-E) seemed to agree. Then as quick as it came, it was gone. Within an hour everything was back to normal except she was having a little trouble getting words out quickly. Today, no effects whatsoever. I made her get an appointment with her doctor and he decided to send her to a neurologist. This, of course, has her somewhat upset with me because she doesn't want to go through all of this again.
Two things about this story stuck out to me. The first is how ignorant people can be of their own health. I've known for a long time that "healthy" people underestimate their risk for disease. I also know that the definition of a healthy person is one who hasn't had a thorough medical workup. What really got me was her lack of fear and panic about her situation. The other thing that got me was my fear and panic about the situation.
I wasn't afraid for her, I was just afraid. It was the same feelings and emotions I have when I'm having a "crisis" but it wasn't me and it wasn't about me. It had me using my same old tricks. Telling myself that I could just as easily get hit by a bus as get sick. Meditating. Do things to distract myself. Using all the little tricks the therapist taught me.
But this wasn't about me. It was about her.
I don't know what this means. Maybe I was scared for her and it was just how I dealt with it. Make it about me. To some extent I think I scared her into going to the doctor and, frankly, that's unfair. She wasn't scared until I scared her. I'm afraid of putting her through the same things I put my wife through. To a large extent I'm "better". But "better" is not cured. There is always the chance for a melt-down and I'm afraid to have that happen.
I wrecked my bike. Again. This time I don't even have a cool story. I was alone in a parking lot on a perfectly sunny day with no cars or obstructions. And I fell. I am a dork. Road rash sucks. The wound itself doesn't suck but it makes your life suck. Showers, clothes, sleeping, standing up, sitting down, everything hurts. I'm healing well but it still hurts.
So there you have it. The last few weeks of my life. I'll check back in soon. Thanks for the comments recently. I really appreciate them.
As a recent commenter noted, it's been a while since I've written anything. Saying "recent commenter" makes it seem like I get so many of them I have to catalog chronologically. In reality I get a few heart felt posts from a few hard-core readers on a regular basis. And for that, I'm very grateful (and humbled).
Honestly I just haven't had anything to say. There's work, and life, and more work, and it seems like blogging has taken a back seat to my daily routine. Even now as I type I can't really think of anything to say other than things are "going".
I could bore you with the minutia of divorce proceedings or the daily diagnosis but it doesn't make for good reading (or writing). All this is to say that maybe I'll take a sabbatical. Just a short one. I have a doctor's appointment next week that I'll be sure to update you on (6-month checkup, no biggie). But otherwise I might be off line for a few weeks.
I hope you understand. Once things settle down I'll try to get back with the craziness.
My hypochondria has increased by approximately 100% in 2Q07. Last quarter I had approximately 0 episodes of being a spaz. This quarter I've had exactly 2 episodes. OK. Mathematically that's more than 100%. Its actually infinitely more. However, I can't find that key on my keyboard. You know, the one for the symbol that looks like an 8 tripped and fell down.
The second one occurred the other day. I got in my car after work and noticed something on my thumb nail that looked like a brownish stain. Like any normal human I immediately stuck my thumb in my mouth to clean it off (assuming it was chocolate). It tasted like blood. I thought "hmm, that's weird". I then began checking frantically for blood. Looking in the mirror I noticed that the gum (gums?) over one of my teeth was bleeding. Uh oh. I immediately go into differential diagnosis mode. For those of you unfamiliar with this process allow me to outline it:
Bleeding gums - spontaneous bleeding - immediate death
Now the "how I die" was irrelevant. Obviously since I had spontaneously bled I was having some sort of bleeding disorder caused by either cancer, high blood pressure, or the aspirin I took that morning (the baby aspirin I've taken for 4 years).
I freaked out for quite some time. It eventually stopped bleeding but I didn't stop thinking about it. Then it occurred to me. if it stopped bleeding its not a bleeding disorder. On closer inspection I can see where I had obviously used my thumb (remember the blood?) to pick something out of my teeth and caused it to bleed.
Of course, this means I have gingivitis. I'm sure if I looked this up it would lead straight to cancer.