Sawblade's speeches

So now I'm on my third different type of medication for my reflux. Two nights ago, I drank a soda for the first time in a long time; I had a night lab and I was ridiculously tired. I drank it gradually over 2 hours, unlike how I usually drank sodas (back in the day) within a minute or two. That night I had really severe reflux for hours; even lying down which usually causes my throat to subside, did nothing... I had a really severe lump in my throat and had trouble breathing and my throat has gotten really raw from all that reflux. Breathing, yeah, kind of important. Good thing I was going to see the doc the next day anyway. So talking with him about that event, we finally agreed that acid blockers are not working for me so now I'm taking a different type of medicine which helps "gastric emptying" (meaning stuff's supposed to get out of your stomach faster; it's NOT a laxative :P). Well, I took one and it managed to stop my 18 hour reflux streak.. it seems to work a little better, although I'm still getting a lot of reflux just from eating anything. Grr.... never underestimate the importance of your lower esophageal sphincter.

Last night was our u-singers concert. While I didn't have my best singing performance of the semester I consider it an accomplishment that I was just able to stand up there and be a part of the concert for the whole thing. It's difficult to express how medicated I was that whole day... I took an acid blocker in the morning which gave me reflux, then ate an apple and it made it considerably worse. Then after many antacids which didn't help very much, I took a Propranolol (it's an anti-anxiety beta blocker to be taken before stressful situations so your heart doesn't pace out of control). And later that day I took more acid blockers/many more antacids to try to control my reflux, and my last meal was at 2 PM (I ate two prunes between then and the concert and only because my stomach felt a real urge for something!). Adding more Propranolol later that evening before heading over to Cabell for the warm up... yeah, I was officially drugged up that day. Let's face it, there's no denying it, I was definitely a pill-popper for the concert. Hey, by any means necessary, right? We all got up on stage to warm up in the auditorium with the auditorium empty, and I felt fine... but an hour later, we went out on stage under the hot lights and in front of hundreds of people. That's when I started to feel sick. Psychological, perhaps, but I'm sure the heat on stage didn't help either; I almost instantly felt incredibly dehydrated. Like in the Meredith Monk concert, I felt like my heart was trying to accelerate; I think the Propranolol managed to control it. Even so, the way I was feeling out there, the whole first half I was so worried my stomach would just give out on me. I sang significantly more falsetto in that concert than I normally do but I just didn't have the strength to sing normally. At intermission I went into the bathroom and in my opinion I looked pretty yellow. One of my friends told me I looked pretty bad; not in terms of my color, just that my energy was gone. Which was also true. I was about to go tell our professor/conductor that I didn't think I could go on but for some reason I went back out there for the second half. I felt so dizzy out there, feeling multiple times in the second half that I was going to faint. But at least that was all I felt the second half. By the end of the final song, I felt an unbelievable sense of relief... as I walked off that stage, I walked into the tunnel ramp on the side and pretty much walked right into the wall. I think next to the 10 miler this is the most physically demanding thing I've put myself through the whole semester. People who knew me in the audience said after the show that I looked better in the second half than the first half. It's interesting when people you know can tell that you're suffering even when they're pretty far away from you (aka being in the audience). But I appreciate all of my friends and family that came to see the concert.
You know what really pisses me off? I got a call from the gastric specialist that said that after looking at my x-rays, everything looks relatively fine. This is ridiculous! The radiologist at least told me a specific organ or muscle that was screwed up, and now the specialist is saying that outside of a little reflux shown, everything is normal? There's something clearly screwed up and I don't know what it is... at least the radiologist gave me an idea of what the problem was and how it might be fixed. I'd certainly like to stay in u-singers next semester but there's no way I can put myself through another semester of this.

Afterwards, I went to the post-concert party. It was pretty fun...Armenoush, a friend of mine who I had brought to the party, was telling Professor Slon about the "Michael Slon Appreciation Society" facebook group that she had created. We all had a good laugh about the group and Slon was asking how he could get access to the group! And we saw Slon getting his groove thing on on the dance floor, always hilarious! :P But it also reminded me that a lot of frat boys are assholes. Why do I say that? Because one of my friends in u-singers got really drunk at the party and I waited around for a little while to see if she needed someone to walk her home. And then some jacked-up (and probably drunk) frat guys were trying to convince me to take advantage of her. And were joking about 'taking out' her boyfriend who wasn't there that night. Eventually, she said she had another way to get home, so I just left. I'm glad she managed to get home ok. But like I said, drunken frat guys = assholes.

So yeah, heck of a night. Today, I'm wiped out. And significantly less medicated.

i compare our residential community situation to my stomach. Both may be beyond repair without major surgery, and every time I think the whole thing is figured out then a new curveball gets thrown into the mix and then you have to wait a whole another week before you learn anything. And in the meantime, it's just painful.

Today's hospital visit for an X-ray of my upper GI was really ... um ... interesting. Everyone I told that I was going in for a barium swallow, they were like "Ewww!" Actually the barium solution itself wasn't all that bad, except that you had to drink so much of it. I initially had a few sips so the technician could x-ray how it went down my esophagus. Then he told me to drink the rest of the cup of the solution to fill my stomach. Afterwards he starting looking at the inside of my stomach with the x-ray and said, "You have a very large stomach, you'll have to have some more!" :P So I had another cup of it, by that point I had enough of that taste but I had to keep drinking it. And then they took various x-ray snapshots of my esophagus/stomach in various positions (I felt like a dog when they kept telling me to roll over!). The radiologist definitely noticed the reflux as I drank the barium and he could hear it when sounds started coming out of my throat again. He said that it's probably my lower esophageal sphincter that's weak or damaged... he says there are a variety of medicines that can help treat it and if they don't work there's a surgical option (but hopefully avoidable). So they're forwarding the x-rays to Charlottesville GI, and hopefully the doc will be able to tell me more then.

Well I guess the residential community is not to be... damn Virginia property taxes making it impossible for us to afford it. Although this whole negotiation with the church has taught me several things: one, when money's at stake, people do indeed come second. And second, never get involved in church politics. No wonder we can't get anything done around here!

Well, I think my goals of running a half marathon are gonna be put on hold right now, my health has not improved and the specialist i saw today couldn't pinpoint at least a solution to my health problems. So I think it may be best if I just sit this one out. If my health does improve, I will avenge this.... next year, watch out. Who knows, maybe I'll try to do the whole marathon! (Probably too ambitious even for my own good)

Today I got out and jogged a 5k, then later in the day, another 2 miles. In between I got a new pair of running shoes. I have to say, it was easier doing the 5k in the old shoes. I'm not sure if it's 'cause of the shoes or because my legs were tired from the first run. Why am I even mentioning that I went on a run today? Well, I guess 'cause I needed to show myself I was still capable of exercising... it's the first run I've had since my trip to the hospital. I don't know if I'll be doing the half marathon next Saturday. I hope to, but I guess it partially depends on if the gastric specialist can figure out what's wrong with me. People have said that running the 10 miler might have pushed my body, already in a weakened condition, over the edge. I don't know what to think.. I just don't know. I really want to do this race... I know it's probably not wise, and I guess if the doctors say I shouldn't run then I won't, but it's what I've wanted to accomplish this whole year, and it feels like the one success I'm capable of having without depending on someone else's approval. (Referring mainly to all the internships I've applied to that have ended in a dead end)

I wonder if it's because of all the rejections I get from various places which is why I don't want to depend on other people for help. Heck, the night I went to the hospital, when I went up to David's room, I asked him and April if they were busy before I said that I needed to go to the hospital. I'm certainly grateful they were willing to take me; for all I know they might have saved my life that night. Still, it's so weird... even when I felt like I was having a medical emergency I didn't want to be a burden on anyone else...

On a lighter note, Liz stopped by this afternoon! It's good to see her, she's doing well up in Shenandoah. Although it definitely seemed like she wanted to come back to Charlottesville. She's in a 2-year masters program, so she's halfway there! Of course when she gets done, I'll be gone (unless I stay in Charlottesville as well).

And this evening, I went to Arch's with my favorite "A". While we were there I ran into Joey and Lisa (from U-singers), and Joey was saying I looked better than I did last Saturday when we were performing (and I almost passed out). I wish I was feeling better though! Well, I guess it's good that I only feel nauseous again and not like I'm going to pass out. I had a pretty good time getting ice cream, but once again, stomach's acting up and refluxing into my throat. I've said this so many times the past few days... Monday's appointment with the specialist can't come soon enough.

So the official 10 miler stats are out. Chip time (time from when I crossed the physical start line to the physical finish line): 79 min, 6 sec; overall time (time from when the gun went off): 79 min 31 sec. Shows ya that it depends on your competition; I got 285'th place overall (31st in my division) out of 1429 overall that finished. Last year my time was 78 min and 5 sec, faster than this year, but I was 327th overall, 37th in my division! (Although then there were 1643 official finishers, something tells me the rain had something to do with this!)

My friend Kristina says that we're all allowed one trip to the hospital during our time at UVA. Last Sunday I guess I took it. After a nasty argument with my dad about how my health (or lack thereof) almost made me pass out during a performance, my accelerated heart rate refused to return to normal despite all efforts to relax, and I had a lot of trouble breathing. Fortunately DV and April were next door to drive me to the hospital so the doctors could inject me with something to get my heart to slow down. I don't know what would have happened if they weren't there, I don't know if I would have tried to wait it out some more (woulda failed), try to drive myself to the hospital, or call 911... never mind, I won't think about it. So Kristina, we're even now! :P

Well, I made it through the race this morning in reasonable time... by my watch, about 79 1/2 minutes. I'll have to wait for the official results. About a minute and a half slower than last year, but I'll take it. (By the way, the weather wasn't running-conducive either; it was really comin' down out there for about 80-90% of the race!) I felt like my consciousness half-gave out on me around mile 7. The last mile, I couldn't even really feel my face anymore. Not sure if that was 'cause I was so tired or because of the weather. Now I gotta figure out how I'll be able to add 3 more miles onto this! ;-)

It's the evening of the eve of the 10 miler. One year removed from my first time running it. Last year, I felt pretty fearless going into the race... afterwards, I figured next year I'd try to do it several minutes faster. That motto isn't with me tonight... I have to say, this year, I'm scared. I admit it, I'm scared. Mental suffering brings fearlessness, and I had that last year... right now I don't struggle with what I struggled with last year at this time. Secondly, with one of my best friends (and one of the biggest motivations on the planet) gone, I run alone. (Well, sentimentally, physically I'll be aside thousands of strangers but it's not the same) And finally, attempting to do this in sub-par health...
So why am I still doing it? Because I had some degree of that fearlessness earlier in this school year and wouldn't back down or chicken out of anything. Now that I have this illness I'm afraid to even invite a friend somewhere out of fear I'll get nauseous and embarrass myself in front of her. I'm tired of backing down. I'm tired of feeling like I've lost before I even try. Whatever medical condition I've had the past month or so... and the doctors are finally seeing that something is medically wrong with me... has made me both physically and mentally wounded. When medicine doesn't help, I guess physically there's not much more I can do, but I can't let my illness mentally defeat me. And also, several months ago, I signed up for a half marathon. Tomorrow is a warm-up for two weeks from now. I hope.
Tomorrow will be a major test for me. My goals of trying to beat my time from last year... out the window. I'm treating it like last year, I'm just hoping to finish. I wish I had Ashlee or Jimbo as a running buddy tomorrow. I wish you were here to run with me, Brian, but I know you're on to better things in Haiti right now. God bless you. Tomorrow, it's me against 52,800 feet, give or take a couple. I know you'll be believing in me, man. And thanks to everyone else who's been there for me and'll be believing in me... especially you, Rebecca, even though you don't go to my school I'm so glad you've been there for me since January. I'm gonna need all the motivation I can get. So now, I rest... tomorrow, I fight.