FYI

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The final countdown.

T minus 100 days until my next doctor's appointment.

Lions and Tigers and Bugs, Oh My!

I've never really liked bugs. Being a male this has caused me some issues in my life. I'm not the kind to run screaming like a girl when I see something with more legs than a dog, but I also wouldn't be caught dead with a pet tarantula or, for that matter, any pet bug. Not necessarily cause they're creepy but, come on, they're bugs. I can't imagine you can teach them to sit, stay or fetch the paper (not that I've trained my dogs to either).

Now, however, I've got reason not to like them. They tried to kill me. Now I realize I shouldn't be indicting all bugs. I'm sure grasshoppers and daddy long legs have nothing against me. But I also didn't see them coming to my recue when I was viciously attacked by one of their bretheren.

I guess I really can't blame the bugs. It was going to be something. If it wasn't being bitten by a bug that sent me into a tizzie (if that's even how you spell it) then it would have been some nameless disease that only shows up on the 4th page of a google search. But in true freak out style I'm now constantly monitoring myself for any sign of itching or hives. I'm always trying to figure out where my epi pen is or, if its not around, who I can signal with my last gasp of air to call 911.

The only solice is that this is an identifiable and concrete 'condition'. Its not like I drempt something up one night and decided I was alergic. Of course, this goes along with hypochondria. Current theory is that we really do feel the aches and pains of our 'illness'. Its just that these are the aches and pains of being alive, not being sick. So in my case, the allergy is real, the way in which I've blown it out of proportion is what makes me a hypochondriac.

Hypochondria by proxy (or not)

The other day my son (who is 2) fell on our hardwood floors and hit the back of his head. He's fine. My wife on the other hand, is not. She's afraid that he has some sort of brain damage or that he's got internal bleeding.

I keep trying to explain to her (given my vast medical knowledge) how he's fine and that kinds don't get hurt like we do and that he would have shown some signs by now, etc. It didn't help that she saw a Reader's Digest article about some kid that hit his head on the corner of a table and ended up needing brain surgery.

Her concern about him I can understand. My lack of it I don't. Its not that I'm not concerned but that I'm not freaked out. It seems fairly selfish that I'm only abnormaly worried about MY health and not that of my first (and middle and last) born son. You'd think that I would freak out even more for him.

My wife (who likes to say she's a hypochondriac but has no idea what its really like) is worried about him constantly. Its always worry about cancer, or some bruise or that he's acting funny or that he's sweating or too hot. It sounds exactly like me and how I worry about myself.

Maybe that's normal. Its easier to be objective when its not you in "danger" of being sick or dying. I just wish that somehow I could get that detachment for myself.

The British need spell check

I'm trying to understand why I have good days and bad. As I've stated countless times, I go months without even the slightest (OK, maybe the slightest (OK, its more than slight but less than nuclear explosion)) episode of "symptoms" or worry. Then, all of a sudden, I'll have a complete break down. I've theorized in the past that it was a build-up over time. That I wasn't truly dealing with the problems simply masking them or ignoring them.

This is where the meditation came in. I don't do it as much as I used to but I try to do at least 20 minutes a week. Its way down from the 70 or so a week I was doing but it still is helpful.

I've also stopped taking my blood pressure. I like to tell myself that its because my last visit was good and I don't need to check it so much. In reality, I'm still afraid to. I think I'm afraid that I'll invalidate th results at the doctor's office.

That is the sign of crazy right there. I used to be afraid to go to the doctor's office cause I know my BP would be bad. Now I'm afraid to take it at home because it WASN'T bad at the doctor's office.

All of this is generally lowing my "generalized anxiety" or as the British say "Generalised Anxiety". It seems that its common. The GAD article at this site says this:

The severity of symptoms tends to 'wax and wane' with some good spells, and some not so good spells. Symptoms may 'flare up' and become worse for a while during periods of major life stresses. For example, if you lose your job, or split up with your partner.

This sounds more like VD than anxiety (with the exception of the burning pee). They also say this:

People with GAD are more likely than average to smoke heavily, drink too much alcohol, and take street drugs. Each of these things may ease anxiety symptoms in the short-term. However, addiction to nicotine, alcohol or drugs makes things worse in the long-term, and can greatly affect your general health and wellbeing.

Wonderful. So anxiety not only leads to "flare-ups" but at some point I will be a crack whore with lung cancer.

In reality, I think I'm getting better. I'm sure the Zoloft has something to do with it but, in general, I feel good. The bad times aren't so bad and the good times are really really good. I think that's all I can hope for.

I just blew my own mind

What if I develop of phobia about being a hypochondriac? That would be like having an anxiety over having a health anxiety about being unhealthy. And since people who have phobias are in someways considered unhealthy then I'd be having a fear of a fear of being unhealthy.

So not only am I anxious but I'm anxious about being anxious about being sick.

Keep your eyes peeled, I may be the subject of a medical text any day now.

Itchy and Scratchy

I'm going crazy. Now every time I itch for any reason I begin to wonder. I know I'm a hypochondriac and I know its probably all in my head but this is rediculous. I think I now have to add "phobias" to my list of illnesses (perceived or otherwise).

I wonder if there's a latin term for this. Itchiphobia? No, too easy. Pruriphobia? That could be it. At least, that's what the latin dictionary on google says is latin for itching.

Yesterday on the bike my arm started to itch and (probably from scratching it) started to get a little splotchy. This to was full blown hives. Again I started thinking about how to contact the EMS and if I left a will in a place where my wife would find it, etc. Of course while I'm thinking about all this the itch goes away. Or moves.

At least this is manageable though. Chances are I won't die of itching so that tends to not make my nuts-o-meter go off the scale. But then again, I haven't been bitten by anything more than a mosquito. For all I know I'll be mainlining Benedryl and sticking epi-pens in both my legs on the mere sight of a fire ant.

There's an ant hill in my yard. My wife brought it to my attention yesterday. I spent 5 minutes watching it waiting to see what kind of ant crawled out. Very reminicent of taking my pulse to see if I'm having palpitations or my blood pressure to see if its high...

See, I told you I'd be back before too long.

Ninja fire ants

Now I'm afraid of sweat. More specifically of itching. This morning on my ride I started getting that sort of itchy feeling you get when its humid and your sweating and you're uncomfortable. However in my mind, I'm thinking I've been bitten and now I'm going to have to use my epi-pen. I start looking for people I can flag down so they can call 911 for me, etc.

Its as if I think there are ninja fire ants just waiting to do some Jackie Chan flying leap off of an overpass onto me while I'm riding and bite me. I guess it could happen.

Fire Ants on a Mutha#%$&# Bike!!!

I have to tell this story. Its one of my new favorites. Well, favorite as in "I'm telling you this because even I don't believe it happened". Let me set this up by saying I've only ever been to the emergency room once in my life. Suffice it to say, I didn't enjoy it. I ended up having a doctor tell me I might have cancer. Well, I ended up forcing a doctor to say that if they rule out everything from pneumonia to SARS and Anthrax, that I might have cancer. Its a subtle difference...

Anyway. Once a week I go to a "training race" for bicyclists at a local airport. We essentially ride around a 8-mile loop exceedingly fast and then try to make ourselves puke by sprinting to the finish. This is fun. If nothing else for 2.5 hours I have a different reason to think I might die. A fiery bicycle crash.

I get there and park in the same spot I've been parking all summer. I start to get changed and I feel something bite me right abouve my ankle. I look down and its a fire ant. For those of you that don't have fire ants, just wait, you will. They're like thos African Bees that have been migrating from Mexico for 20 years. They're taking over everything they come in contact with. I expect there to be a movie any day now.

So I get bit. By one ant. This is important because fire ants generally bite in the dozens at once. I don't think anything of it and just keep getting dressed. Within about 5 minutes my ankle starts itching like crazy. I think nothing of it and get on the bike.

Within 10 minutes everything from the waist down is itching like I was battered and fried in itch powder. I think nothing of it and chalk it up to the heat (it was 100 degrees). Within about 15 minutes I'm itching all the way up to the base of my neck. Especially on the inside of my elbows which makes me look like a junkie needing a fix. Somehow, I think nothing of it.

I get 2 miles into the ride and look at my arms and they are covered in hives. I immediately think A LOT of it. I have never had hives from anything. Ever. I decide to turn around and head back to the car as I didn't want to get stuck 5 miles out covered in hives.

By the time I get back to my car I am covered in hives and scratching like there's a million dollars hidden under my skin. I decide at this point that I shouldn't risk driving home and having going into anaphylactic shock on the highway.

This is where being a hypochondriac comes in handy. Most people don't even know what shock is let alone that you can go into it. I, being a highly trained medical practitioner, recognize it immediately.

I go to the fire station and they tell me they don't have anything for fire ants. No Benedryl, no epi-pens, nothing. So they call an ambulance. They start to work me up taking my information, vitals, etc. At this point my blood pressure is 140/90. Slightly high but given the situation, I think nothing of it.

By the time the ambulance gets there I am one large hive. Remember this phrase, it will appear later.

They take my blood pressure, twice, and its 100/95, twice. This is the lowest its been since I had a blood pressure. We all decide I should go to the hospital to get checked out. Yes, you read that correctly. I was part of the decision. Actually I was asked, by skilled paramedics, if I wanted to go. Let me say that another way. They asked a hypochondriac if he wanted to go to the hospital and be seen by a doctor...

So we're in the ambulance (what did you think my answer would be, no?) and they give me an IV and put 25mg of benedryl in it. I immediately know why parents give it to children. All I wanted to do was nap. Of course, in my mind going to sleep meant I might not wake up. I don't know why, it just did.

So I get to the hospotal and they put me in "Critical Care #17". This is code for "the hall". After a few hours I saw a doctor. Dr. Ben. That is what he called himself. Nice guy. Very matter of fact. He tells me I'm fine and that they want to minitor me for a few hours. Then they pump me full of drugs. I mean full.

50mg of benedryl
150mg of Zantac (yes, that Zantac)
50mg of Prednisone
.3mg of Epinephrine

The last one was the kicker. I felt like I had been running a marathon. It got rid of the hives but man, that stuff sucked. At some point the doctor asked if he could send his medical student over to see me because I had a "good case of the hives". The then said "I don't mean good for you, I just mean a good case study". I then overhear him telling his student that I was "one big hive". I don't think this is a medical term. That would be something like "Megabumpatitis".

So now, short story long, I have to carry an epi-pen when I go outside. I'm only "slightly" afraid of anything that flies, crawls, scurries, swarms, or even looks like it might be able to bite or sting me. That includes small animals and children.

Things to note though. I did not freak out. The whole time I was calm. I have to say that was in large part due to the calm nature of the people that took care of me. I'm sure if I was bleeding from more than one orrifice they would have been more excitable. Of course, I probably would have been, too.

Details of my death have been greatly exaggerated

So there I was, minding my own business at the doctor's office when all of a sudden ninjas jump out of nowhere and armed to the teeth with sphygmomanometer (the blood pressure thingy) and large bottles of Lipitor! Next thing you know I've made nun-chucks out of a stethoscope and two tongue depressors. Long story short, I spent 2 months in Himalayan prison with Brad Pitt and Batman plotting my escape...

OK, I might have embellished a little. Well, pretty much everything after "so there I was". I have been away for a while. Partly due to my being in "remission" of my hypochondria and partly due to a new job. Allow me to sum up the last few months:

1. Doctor visit good
2. Lotsa work, also good.
3. Lab test not as good, get increase in medication.
4. Get bit by fire ants spend night in ER, not good.
5. Spend week on handfuls of strange drugs, not good.
6. Freak out, not good.
7. Recover from freak out, good.

With the exception of the fire ants, the good seems to equal the bad. That is also good. So maybe that means that the good outweighs the bad... That seems like poor math there somehow...but I digress.

I'm sure there are random other things in there but overall, everything is going well. I will do my best to pick this back up. Unfortunately (or not, depending on how funny you think I am) I just haven't had a lot to blog about.

Winter is coming. That tends to be a bad period for me. Bear with me while my crazy engine gets revved back up.