Thursday, December 15, 2005

And we're baaaaack...to feeling like crap

I haven't written in a while. Mainly because I've been alternating from panic induced blood pressure monitoring and google searching. Also because I haven't had anything to say but "OH MY GOD I'M GONNA DIE!". At least, that's how it feels. So as I may have mentioned before my disappearance, I was 'prescribed' therapy. So I went.

Well, funny story, I went on Tuesday. They were closed on Tuesday. How is that for a great beginning to therapy. "You are so screwed up, we actually decided to lock the doors and hide in the back room with the lights off until you went away." Actually, turns out I had the incorrect day on my PDA. And we all know, PDAs cannot be wrong (however, their owners can, and regullarly are).

Anyway, back to reality. So, I went yesterday. It was actually a pretty good experience. Of course, I like to talk to anyone who'll listen (I am an only child) so how could it not be good? She asked all the standard questions about my family etc. Then she asked me "So tell me why you're here". That pretty much took the next 35 minutes of our 45 minute hour (figure that math out...). I went on about my childhood (which was unremarkable in almost every way). Talked about all kinds of things - the first time I paniced, the fact that I know its panic, and that most times I can rationalize it away, blah blah blah. At the end she basically agreed with everything I said. "Yup, you've described anxiety perfectly". I knew I liked her.

At the end she had me practice concentrating on something other than the panic when it happens. She rang this little chime (the kind you see in Pier 1) and told me to concentrate on it as long as possible as a way to stop my brain from focusing on the bad stuff.

Well, let me tell you it didn't work. I thought everything was going pretty well when I got back to work. I sat down and it was time for my daily blood pressure check. And then it spiraled from there. It was high. Not so high that it was dangerous, but high enough to send me into full freak-out mode. I trid some of the stuff she told me to do. I tried deep breathing. I tried focusing on work, I tried conjuring up spirits, you name it. It just got worse.

By the end of the day and all through the night I was sure I was having some sort of hypertensive crisis. Positive that I would have a stroke at any moment. I woke up this morning thinking the same thing. Took my BP and it was good. Of course, my brain couldn't let that stand. I took it a bunch more and it just got worse from there.

Finally this morning after logging on to PanicSurvivor.com I was able to calm down. At that point I took it and it was pretty darn good.

Sorry to run on like this but this site is as much personal journal for me as it is (hopefully) helpful to others. The hardest thing in the world for me is to rationalize my own fears. I know I'm OK, but I don't believe myself. Then I do things to sabotage any sort of rational thoughts that I can muster.

I decided to start Zoloft today. I'd been putting it off until after the therapy. She wasn't against it and I'm apparently not through the worst of it like I thought. We'll see how it goes.

If someone else signs on and claims to be Thor, Ruler of Middle Scratchlactica, call somebody and tell them the meds worked a little too well...

Monday, December 12, 2005

A fine weekend

Good weather, the kid and wife are in good moods...all in all a pretty good time. I freaked myself out Sunday with a minor google-palooza. I rode my bike for the first time in a month (until then I was riding about 100 miles a week or more but the weather hasn't allowed it). It was about 50 degrees but VERY windy. When I got back I had a nasty cough. Of course, I'm all over the internet about lunch cancer, and asthma, and some other random crazyness that I don't even recall. My google cache is so sad I have finally had to turn it off.

I did, however, find an excellent article on risk and probability. To most people this is useless information, but to someone like myself it means the world. When you're searching the internet for your disease du jour, you are invariably pelted with statistics. 1.7x the risk of a 'normal' person for this, 4% chance of dying in the next 10 years from that, etc. Its a great article about keeping risk of disease and death in context. I've mentioned it before that rationally, I know my risk of dying from cancer is something like 50x less than from being hit by a car while I'm on my bike. 3 people were killed just last month in my area on bikes. Anyway, its worth a read.

Making sense of risk information on the web

Thursday, December 08, 2005

I could be hit by a bus with zebra stripes at any moment

After a pretty decent experience at the doctor's office yesterday I actually felt better. For about 6 hours. Then I went on to #2 on my list of "diseases I have". As I've said before, if I rule out one thing, I go on to the next. So when my Doctor said

"If you're worried about having a heart attack or a stroke, stop. That is absolutely not going to happen"

Of course in my mind that is translated to:

"If you're worried about having a heart attack or a stroke, stop. That is absolutely not going to happen. However, you may or may not drop dead instantly if at least 100 other things that you may (or may not) have."


Actually, it seems that everything that comes out of a medical professionals mouth sounds to me like:

"...yap yap yap...however, you could die..NOW! oooooor NOW!"

That's the problem. The uncertainty of it all. I once saw a post that put it very much in perspective (not that it cured me). It said something like 'life is a dangerous thing'. In other words, just the fact that you are alive means you could die at any moment. There's always the proverbial bus waiting to hit you.

Its the absurdity of hypochondriacs that we disregard the everyday dangers and focus on the rare ones. For instance, I know absolutely no one that has had a heart attack, an aneurysm, or died from cancer. I've known multiple people killed in car wrecks. I even knew a guy who died playing football. This is the reality of a 1:100 chance of getting these diseases. That is to say, my risk of any of those is less than 1% (at my age). But in my mind a 1% chance is tantamount to saying it happens all the time. I don't panic when I get in a car about dying in a fiery auto crash. But I'd swear that I'm having a stroke at any one moment.

Its a funny thing. It turns perfectly rational people into blathering idiots in a very specific portion of their life. Its not as if I'm this way at work. My job is troubleshooting. And I find myself ruling things out on a regular basis purely because the symptom doesn't fit. If you hear hoof beats, you think horse, not zebra.

It seems that in my mind there are no zebras. Man, that is deep...

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

Treating Hypochondria

I've thought multiple times about how, if at all, I could overcome my tendancy to over analyze things. I've known for a long time that its an obsessive-compulsion in me to focus on my health. I also know that various drugs have helped me over the years, but I've never quite shaken it permanently. I came across this article, and it seems pretty interesting. Especially the question about it (hypochondria) starting at an early age. I know as a small child I feared (irrationally) all sorts of things.

If it was Nuclear bombs or tornadoes, or air plane parts, I knew they were gonna hit my house. I remember when we moved once I freaked out for months about the fact that we were on some sort of first-strike list for nuclear bombs. I'd try and calculate just how long it would take the blast wave to get to my house (and yes, I mean *calculate*). So, I can see a pattern.

There's another very interesting question that leads to this statement:

DANIEL CAPPELLO: Why do doctors hate hypochondriacs?

JEROME GROOPMAN: There are several reasons. One is that doctors want to deal with what they believe is real disease, meaning physical problems, and not constant complaining about imagined issues...[The last] —and this is sort of the psychoanalytic insight—is that many physicians have hypochondriacal feelings themselves, because they see how fragile the world is. Some people believe that physicians dislike hypochondriacs so much because it is a sort of mirror to their own compartmentalized fears.




I find that extremely interesting. I know I've read in the past that many soon-to-be doctors in medical school go through a phase where they diagnose themselves with a disease they are currently learning. I've always wondered how they coped with the in depth knowledge they have of disease. Considering they are only human, I'd assume not very well.

Full text of article at the New Yorker

Finally, a test I pass

I found a somewhat interesting article that included a test to see if you're a hypochondriac. Personally, I think the test should be one question:

"Do you now or have you ever freaked the f*&% out about your health."

Pretty simple. If you answer yes, you're a hypochondriac if no, you probably aren't. But as many learned scholars tend to do, they had to come up with something a little more "realistic" and "not full of curse words". Of course, I'm sure this isn't official, but I know I scored like a 52 on it so, I think its close.


Hypochondriac Test

A new direction.

Maybe I'll go a different direction here and actually try and be helpful to someone other than myself. There really doesn't appear to be a lot of information out there for people like myself. Not that anyone will ever read this but, its worth a shot. As I find information on my little mental problem, I might post it up here.

As if it could get worse

It can always get worse. I make what was an innocuous stop at my Doctor's office today to pick up a jacket I left during my mad dash out of there at my last appointment, and to *schedule* an appointment. And damned if they didn't tell me they could fit me in right now. A Doctor. Could fit me in. Right now. So I asked:

Me: "When you say right now how long do you mean"
Nurse: "Like 15 minutes."
Me: "Let me get out my calculator and convert the Doctor Minute into the Metric Standard Minute"
Me: "Carry the one, convert the polynomial to a Fourier transform, run it through the quadratic equation..."
Me: "...uh, sure, why not."

Now I'll tell you "why not". Because I was unprepared for this. Usually I have to work myself up to a Doctor's visit. I rarely ever get sick and need to see one so I always know that my next visit will be 6 months away (for a HBP checkup). Usually I go through a process that can only be described as part Zen Buddhist meditation and part (95% at least) sheer terror and panic.

This occurs for at least 3 days prior to the visit. At some point I accept my fate and come to the realization that he will diagnose me with none other than the dreaded Non-Small Cell Multiple Lupus Aneurysm. I resign myself for this, put my affairs in order, and then I am ready.

However this time, I had to do all of this in a scant 15 minutes. This was not enough time. Without going into detail, let me just say that I ended up having a 20 minute conversation with the Doctor. Yes, the actual Doctor. He talked. In English, even. My BP wasn't perfect but it was better. He also mentioned that I might be suffering from "some sort of anxiety".... "Really?", I said. "Interesting."

Anywho I get a brand new prescription for happy pills. Again. Third time might be the charm...

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Funny Ha Ha

Sometimes its hard to be humorous about something that can be so time and engergy consuming. Of course I'm talking about being nuts. Usually I can keep it under control. I'll spend 20 or 30 minutes thinking I have a new disease or ailment and then I can (usually) rationalize it away. Here's how it usually works:

"Hey my right hand feels funny"



"Well it can't be the immediate death thing or I'd be dead. And it can't be the slow painful one cause my left hand feels the same way. And we all know that if the thing that's wrong is on both sides, it can't be a disease..."

Most times this is enough to keep me from going into freak out mode. Then there's weeks like the last few. Where google searches confirm what I think I have (only because I've done the same google search 1000 times before). Where the "symptom" doesn't disappear immediately after I rationalize it away.

I can always tell when its gonna be bad for an extended period. It usually happens after I have a less than spectacular visit with the Doctor. My blood pressure or cholesterol is still not where it should be blah blah blah. This sets me off into a frenzy of panic and anxiety that lasts for weeks. I spend my days to anxious to work or even get out of bed but forced to do both so I can afford the Internet access and doctor visits that fuel my problems.

These are the times its hard to be funny. When my normal sense of humor gives way to what can only be described as bi-polar. I alternate between "I'm perfectly fine" and "I could die at any minute". Its not pretty. It never has been. I'm getting better. At least, I think I am. The anxious parts aren't as bad as they used to be and the sane parts are longer.

I'm getting better. At least I think I am.

Monday, December 05, 2005

iPod Hell

I was in it deep. It seems that in my quest for the ability to burn my iTunes purchases to an MP3 CD I borked a large portion of my iTunes library. I finally made it back but it took vaseline, lemon juice and the hair of a ferile duck to do it... Anywho, I'm back in Ozzy Osbourne goodness so all is well.

Otherwise, its been another less than memorable day. That's like 3 in a row. Its been raining like a mofo here for a few days. I know for all those in more northernly lattitudes rain would be a welcome break. But at least you have seasons. We seem to move between sorta warm and sorta dry to sorta cold and sorta rainy. That peppered with ocasional snow and ocasional 100 degree days makes for some pretty forgetful weather.

I realized I've had three paragraphs of completely self-serving rambling... Man, I truly have become a blogger. Maybe tomorrow I'll add some Google ads at the top and a link to a Flikr site.

Sunday, December 04, 2005

Slow news day

I got nothin...

Friday, December 02, 2005

Yes, I am a dumbass

So she called. And I'm waiting for her to say "the tests results....(you can imagine what I'm thinking)." But instead she says "...and I told her that *he* was still sick and *his* ears were still bothering *him*..."

Yes, that's right. She was talking to my son's nurse. The son that has been sick for 2 weeks. The one she was going to schedule an appointment for...

I am such a loser.

Not good

So the wife sends me an instant message that says:

"I just got off the phone with the nurse. Call if you get a sec. Nothing major"

Now lets analyze this. I haven't been to the doctor in a month. Yet mysteriously my wife just got off the phone with the nurse. So immediately my mind goes to some test that they overlooked and now, because they care so much that they review patient's results on a whim to make sure they haven't missed anything, they call me.

Of course this is after they call and say my last results were fine. So I'm freaking out. Not panicking but it's not good. And to make matters worse, she goes to lunch. No cell phone, no nothin'. This is highly unfortunate.

Lets also review the last sentence there. "Nothing major". What does THAT mean? I mean, "Nothing major" could mean anything from a bill I didn't pay to an 85% chance that I'll survive the disease I found.

"Nothing major"....indeed.

I don't do this often but...


Zspire 1-Thumb

I saw this and thought "This looks exactly like the coffin they launched Spock into space in!". OK, Spock's coffin didn't have a scroll wheel, but the similarities otherwise are striking!

Zspire Mouse of the Future

This must be first sign of the apocolypse

Al Roker is getting a TV show. I usually try to keep it clean around here but, HOLY SHIT PEOPLE! Have the people who 'develop' shows not learned ANYTHING? Lets look at the long list of popular long-running TV shows starring non-actors or 'personalities' as they are sometimes called.

1. ...Um....wait for it....uuuuuhhhhh....nope, I got nuthin.


Now, lets look at the shows that were monster flops:

1. Emeril (Catchy name, no?)
2. The Al Roker Show/Explosion/Hour/Family


See, Al? I can't even name 2 shows that are the worst shows ever. I actually had to pre-judge you just to find a show that was sad enough to include in the list!

That does not bode well, Mr. Roker. Not well at all.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

A long day

And I have absolutely nothing humorous or even sad to say... Just one of those non-descript days where nothing really happens to remember. Maybe that's sad. You only get so many days. Having one that is completely non-specif and unmemorable seems like a waste.

But then again, you can't remember them all. I mean at this point I've had 11400 or so of them. That would be a lot of space wasted on driving, math class, sick with the mumps, watching presentations, lame training classes, etc.

Would I really want to remember all of that...? Good question.

And it rears its ugly head again.

All it takes is one bad 'reading' and I go nuts. Just one high blood pressure reading (which really isn't that high, but I treat it like there's a balloon in my head the size of a Macy's parade float) and I'm going nuts. Checking it repeatedly, going back through what I've eaten or done that might make it spike... It really is nuts.

And of course, there's google. If you could see my search history it would be 50% work related (no decent network engineer could survive without it) and 50% searches like:

"errors in blood pressure measurement"
"high blood pressure aneurism"
"how to measure blood pressure" (this one is especially good since I've been taking mine for at least 8 years now...
"other uses for jumper cables and peanut butter"

Maybe that last one isn't health related...

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Pseudo physician, heal someone else

One of the benefits of being so 'sick' all the time is a deep knowledge of all the arcane diseases known to man. I've heard it before that the next best thing to a doctor is a hypochondriac. Who else but doctors spend all their time combing through respected medical texts (Google) looking for rare diseases and vague symptoms.

I'm not just talking about "bleeding from an orifice" type symptoms. We're talking "Is that a yellow spot on my tongue or a off white one?" can mean the difference between cholera and cancer.

At some point though, this went from a obsessive habit of searching for my own symptoms to the commenting on other's misfortunes. God help the person who, in passing, mentions they are on a new blood pressure drug for I will smite them with my encyclopedic knowledge of beta blockers. Or even worse, don't ask me to look at a bump on your arm because not only do I immediately think cancer but some rare form of cancer for which there is no cure and the death a slow and painful one.

So, my advice is this. If you want to be told you have cancer, ask me. If you want to be told what it really is, ask anyone else.

Peanut butter = death

So this is the conundrum of a head case like me. I'm worried about getting cancer or some sort of massive coronary at 31 and then I hear of a teenager dying from a bad case of peanut butter tongue. It makes me feel like an ass. Of course, it also makes want to ask my wife if she's had any peanut products lately...

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Dammit Katie Kouric!

She swallows a camera pill on TV this morning and now I think I might have esophageal cancer... I swear I've seen more of this woman's insides than I would if I put on a helmet and a flashlight and went spelunking in her nether regions.

I get it. Take care of yer inards. Enough with the cameras in the orifices.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Last one today, I swear

Every time I start a new blog I think this is going to be the one that I actually update on a regular basis. Eh, who knows. I'm not trying to accomplish anything here other than vent to a nameless faceless population. Probably a population of one, but a population none the less.

In the event someone is reading this, I apologize in advance.

Another one?

I don't think the White Stripes could release albums more frequently if they just recorded themselves 24/7 and released each CD as a live concert...

White Stripes

This is a test

OK, this is the obligatory test post. So there!

Can't I just get a decent phone?

I mean come on Sprint. All I want is a phone that does SMS, a little email, and makes phone calls, with a useable keyboard. Oh, and I'd like it to not force me to mortgage my soul or be the size of a Mini Cooper. But I mean, other than that... I mean Verizon has all kinds of cool phones AND they got a guy that swings from a helicopter in there comercials. What do you have??? You have walkie-talkie phones and a new website that has such a hideous color of yellow it actually caused snow blindness in my right eye...

I mean, take some of that money you made in the 80s from all the pin dropping commercials and develop a decent phone or two.

This can't be good

I've started reading this site http://www.panicsurvivors.com Its a whole lot of people just like me who think that white spot on their tounge is cancer when, in fact, its yogurt. I don't know if this is a good idea. I mean, on the one hand its nice to know that I'm not the only one missing a screw, but then again, I'm reading about some really strange diseases that I haven't yet had...

Ok, so maybe there's this one thing.

I guess technically, there is something medically wrong... I do actually have high blood pressure and high cholesterol. Both of which I take completely harmless and perfectly safe (according to my doctor) drugs for. In an interesting twist of irony, the one thing I do have, I don't believe I really have. My doctor tells me I have high blood presse and I don't believe him... At least, I don't believe I have it all the time, only when I see him... Is that some sort of reverse-hypochondria? hyperchondria?

Oh yeah...I'm a head case.

Here we go

I am a certified hypochondriac. And these are my stories... Actually, I'm not certified, because, as we hypos know, you don't bother going to see a doctor to get a diagnosis because they are all quacks and will just tell you you're a perfectly healthy 31 year old with no reason to worry (as long as you take this pill, and this pill, and exersize, and...).


So I guess, again, like a good hypo, I'm a self-diagnosed hypochondriac. On a regular basis I rotate through various vague symptoms which all result in one of three diagnoses. Those are:


- Heart Disease
- Anyeurism
- Cancer


When I finally rule out one thing, then I "get" the other. Then that one disapears, and low and behold, I "come down with" another. They're usually in the order listed about (which I find interesting). Maybe due to the order of severity or some other "logical" reason... Its a cute little damn problem...


Well, more about that later...