Tag: health

The Escape Dream

My wife and I were driving through the night. I did all the driving. It was a dark, intermittently wet experience but steady progress. We made it to where we wanted to go. As sunrise rinsed out the night, we found a different, larger vehicle to carry us on, and took on supplies. I packed the supplies in different containers. We emptied the one car, and I put everything in the other car. We were traveling with cats and had a litter box. I cleaned it out and then, for some reason, put the bags of used litter on the floor behind a seat. A cat was curled up in that location, apparently asleep, but I then realized he was dead. It was Quinn, who in RL, died of cancer several years ago.

With the new vehicle packed up, we went across the compound to shower. Suddenly naked, I squatted down in the sunshine, waiting for my turn. My wife stood beside me as I waited. We talked while this happened, feeling good about where we were and where we were going. People randomly passed by, taking no notice. I picked a scab off my leg.

The dream ended.

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Always In Threes, Right?

Remember when famous folks used to die, a myth sprang up that it always opened in threes? Also, some writers ascribe to a rule to always do things in threes. (Yeah, I’m not up to explaining that for now. Google it.)

Well, I had a kinda rough day. Three more or less bad things happened.

  1. They only have decaf in the house. I’ve survived by going out and buying a large cuppa each morning. But —
  2. Tested positive for COVID today after I spent a few hours visiting mom. Fully masked the entire time. Been masking whenever I went public. And only decaf in the house where I’m isolating. No one to take care of me, neither. (Waaah.)
  3. Checked my credit card online today and found fraudulent purchases. Reported them but that means I need new cards.

So, you know, end of day. At least Mom is getting better (but will be in the hospital for another four to six weeks). Others I’ve been in contact with are negative. I have mild sore throat, mild headache. Don’t know about a fever because the thermometer’s battery is dead. My sister did say she’d bring some coffee by for me. She’s such a sweetheart.

Have a good one. Cheers

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The Jab Dream

I was at a gray counter. A white man was across from me. About my size, he was younger but balding, with thin hair slashed and slicked over that glistening pale dome. He wore a wide dark tie with a red pattern, a starched white shirt, and a white KN 95 mask. Leaning on the counter, I said something to him. In response, he jabbed an index finger into my forehead and barked, “Heal.” Did this three times. Each time, I reacted in irritation, like, “Stop jabbing me, that hurts.”

I awoke with a sore throat.

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Sunday’s Theme Music

Pittsburgh is tucked into a light gray blanket this morning. Sunrise was at 6:57 AM but the sun is taking it easy behind the clouds. Sunset is anticipated at 7:36 this evening.

It’s September 11, 2022, in America.

Muggy 20 degrees C weather lays on me. The air is fine, a green 18 according to Purple Air. No smoke. Deer strolled across the lawn, mama, two yearlings, and a fawn. Mama eyed me like, “Who are you? I don’t know your smell.” The rest nibbled and chewed.

As I left the hospital yesterday, I heard someone tell another in the parking lot, “Don’t let the world bring you down.” The Neurons nibbled on that overnight and then brought Soundgarden and “Blow Up the Outside World” (1996) into the morning mental music stream. It’s a little harsh for a quiet Sunday morning, I told them. They didn’t care. The Neurons follow their own paths.

Stay positive and test negative. Hope you find joy and satisfaction in this day. Yes, I’ve had coffee, thanks. Had to help overcome the three-hour shift from my normal times. Here’s the music. Off to visit Mom in the hospital. She’s doing much better, thanks, but danger remains. Cheers

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Sunday’s Wandering Thought

Sipping coffee, he watched the morning sky drizzle soft rain over the grass and trees. Mom was in the hospital. Her house was quiet in a different way. It wasn’t the house he grew up in. No, he was years gone when she found and purchased this house. She and the house shared a character. They’d spent years together. Feeling like the house missed her, he told the house what was going on, so it wouldn’t worry.

It was the least he could do for such a kind house.

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The Ziopatch

Well, Day one begins.

A Ziopatch was applied to my chest this morning. This was an option my medico presented to me after I’d commented during a meeting earlier this year that I sometimes have heart palpitations. Fact of it is that I’ve experienced these since I was at least a teenager. I actually thought that everyone had them. I mentioned them to another who replied, “I’ve never had that. You should go see a doctor.”

That was in my twenties. Now that I’m in my sixties, I felt time had ripened enough to check it out.

The Zio is just a little thing. Applying it took five minutes. Longest part of that was shaving me. I’m a hairy beast. Don’t know which parento I owe for that. After the left side was shaved above my nip, my skin was lightly abraded so the Z’s adhesive can find purchase. Then it was taped on and explained. Done.

I’ll wear the booger for fourteen days, in theory. The tech and the intertubes both hold that might be a challenge. Getting the Z’s adhesive wet by sweat or water causes the device to come away. One guy on the net said that he’d been told, “excessive sweat might cause that.” He learned that ‘excessive sweat’ is any visible sweat.

Meanwhile, it feels like there’s something on my chest. I have an urge to swat it off, like, “WTH is on my chest?” It also feels a little itchy, as others said they experienced.

Once it is removed, I throw the Z into the air. It spreads its wings and flies off to the factory where it’ll be dissected. Not really! They gave me a box in which to mail it off so its contents can be revealed.

We’ll see how it goes. I’ll let you know when I take it off. Cheers

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The CBD Experiment

My wife suffers from autoimmune issues that end up expressing as RA. Inflammation, swelling, and pain flare up without warning. Hips, back, jaw, fingers, hands, feet, back. Nothing is immune from autoimmune problems.

It’s not a new issue for her, starting back in 1998. It wearies her, of course, and frustrates me. All I can do is support her, and that just doesn’t feel and sound like much.

She’s gone through meds but as anyone who is prescribed meds knows, everything has a side-effect. Many meds cause their own problems, burning through other organs, upsetting digestive systems, etc. In her mid-sixties, she’s been a vegetarian or vegan for over forty years, for many reasons. As her RA progressed, she eliminated more and more foods. She keeps a food journal. Fats were strenuously reduced. Salmon was embraced. We’ve always eaten steamed vegetables, particularly broccoli and brusse sprouts, and roasted asparagus, so we just stayed the course with those. Black beans form a large component of our meals. Alcohol was gone, but she was never much of a drinker. Dairy, especially cheese, which she loves, was eliminated. Tomatoes (another favorite) followed. Sugar. Then she kicked the meds because the side effects were too deleterious. She’s always been a staunch supporter of work outs and exercising and has been a jazzercise enthusiast and weightlifter for over forty years. She puts a lot into both and has been asked by the jazzercise instructor to fill in and lead classes.

That’s the thumbnail sketch. With her diet restrictions, off the meds, she’s been doing well, and even improving. Know how it is, though, right? Something flares up, causing pain and problems.

That brings us to CBDs.

Friends of mine are CBD advocates. They and their wives use CBD and other cannabidiols such as CBA and CBG to cope with their health issues, particularly inflammation and arthritis, sometimes in conjunction with THC, sometimes with mushrooms, but usually with wine or beer. All are pleased with the results. A few raved about CBD with THC to sleep at night. Edibles such as gummies, easily obtained and ingested, garnered particular praise.

So I collected info from friends regarding brands, habits, dosages, and side-effects, and brought that to my wife. She did further research. Purchases were made. She took her first, Wyld Blackberry 25 mg CBD gummies. “How was it?” I asked the next day.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied. “And I didn’t feel anything for the pain, swelling, or inflammation.” She showed me her crooked finger, with its red, swollen joint.

I have minor inflammation, mostly afflicting my intestines. While I address restoring my biome’s balance through diet and probiotics, I thought I’d give the CBD a try.

“How was it?” my wife asked the next day.

“Great. Felt almost an immediate relief. I was really impressed.”

A low growl came from my wife’s direction. I may have imagined that. She tried the CBD again that day and experienced the same results.

Research was pursued. She determined, she believes, that she’s one of those people who suffer increased anxiety from CBD, and no relief.

For the heck of it, we tried other gummy variations, and also gave CBG a try. Same results for her. Which just sucks, you know? Meanwhile, I thrived on it.

But that’s how our bodies are, individualistic and unequal, following paths and micro-paths which we don’t fully understand, sometimes forged by genetics, but also by small biological quirks. That’s part of the life experience, understanding what your body is doing, trying to understand why, struggling to address your own unique needs and issues. The wildest aspect is that the body is always changing, and the hunt for understanding doesn’t end until we cease to breathe.

And that is life.

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A New Word

Today’s word for the day is triaditis. It goes with words already familiar to me, like inflammation and pancreatitis, detoxing, dehydration, and a bonus new word, cholangitis. These are the words passed on to me from the vet. Triaditis is the concurrent inflammation of bile ducts, liver, and pancreas. Surprising to me is that it’s common in cats. Cats have owned me for fifty years. None of them ever mentioned triaditis. They did sometimes display triaditis symptoms of being lethargic, not eating, and vomiting something thin and yellowish. But they usually said, “Done,” the next day and went on being a uniquely entertaining companion.

That brings out two other familiar words, acute and chronic. Chronic, yeah, it flares up once in a while, doesn’t generally cause a larger panel of issues, etc. Acute is more critical and dangerous. The question before the vets is, which flavor afflicts Papi?

That’s what’s being explored today. His blood pressure was also initially low, but it recovered. There were some concerning matters about the kidneys, expected when a cat is not eating nor drinking water. We’d been forcing water in him and trying to entice him to eat.

I read up on what I could overnight and this morning about triaditis. Papi remains hospitalized. He’s young, so I worry that he’s experiencing acute triaditis. As expected, he was given fluids via IV, along with antibiotics. Because my wife has RA, we’re familiar with autoimmune diseases and disorders. The doctor confirmed that triaditis falls in that realm. Not much more is known about it past its symptoms and how common it is.

For now, Papi’s major issue is that he’s still not eating nor showing interest in it. We believe it’s because he’s in the hospital. He’s been treated for dehydration and given antibiotics. Provide us with some NSAID anti-inflammatories, if possible (I’d rather avoid steroids because of the collateral damage they can cause), and let us take him home and try to get him to eat.

It’s still a shock that he became sick so suddenly. This is how bodies function, though. Because we see such small, gradual, external changes, we easily overlook or forget that we’re really multiple internal functions, processes, and organs balancing and harmonizing. Keeping it all together requires shifts and adjustments. Sometimes genetics enter the scene. Other times, luck or injuries shift the setting.

We’ll see what we see. I don’t feel fatalistic about Papi; I’m optimistic. Maybe it’s just due to how he always presented, as energetic, happy, and healthy, so he remains so in my mind.

Cheers

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The Tricorder Dream

I began as a fighter pilot but upon returning from a mission, I changed clothes and started writing computer programs as part of a small startup. In my early thirties (from appearance), I was initially writing programs as a database manager while serving as a mid-level manager overseeing several functions, including data collection and entry. The company was involved with a new medical process and was going through clinical trials and marketing trials. Several RL people from my RL employment with medical device companies appeared in the dream. I knew the details of the trial in the dream, but it was all glossed over and they’re lost now. What the company was doing wasn’t working but I realized that another benefit was possible. That’s what I began writing a program. It was to work with a scanner to be a sort of medical tricorder (as used in Star Trek). I developed a form for the scan to fill out. Each iteration helped me refine and expand what the tricorder could do. I became immensely excited because they could be manufactured and sold cheaply, enabling people to scan themselves non-invasively at home without a need for blood and urine panels, x-rays, or MRIs. It would be a proactive tool to get ahead of your body’s trends before they became a problem. You could easily baseline your norms and then keep testing yourself to see what changes had taken place. The dream ended with me scanning myself as a test subject.

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