Archive for January, 2009

I was discharged today, after my TEE test showed no abnormalities in my heart (yay!) and I had been feeling better for 36 hours. While waiting for the valet attendant to bring around El Tempo, my body said, “You know what? That adjustable bed was fun. Let’s go back.” Dizziness, crazy eyes, numbness, extreme nausea, i can haz bucketz of vomit, and I’m re-admitted before my discharge is even processed. Another stroke, entirely new symptoms, oh boy.

This time, I was more insistent about the pain/pressure I’ve been feeling in the back of my neck for weeks. They focused a CT scan on it, and sure enough, this new neurologist believes I have a ripped artery in my neck that shooting clots into my brain. Good news: can be cured (not just managed, but cured) by six to eight weeks of blood thinner pills. Bad news: This recovery was not as clean, and I’m still nauseous, and now scared to boot that I’ll stroke out every time I take a step home.

THAT SAID: I’m fine. Not gonna die. Wouldn’t be prudent. I’m starting to get real sick of the hospital (pun in-fucking-tended) and I don’t do so good at endurance, so I’m being much more whiny at this point. Sorry, everyone. At least my next door neighbor puts me to shame with her alarmist wailing and crazy noisemaking that …. I don’t even want to know what’s going on in there.

I had some cops come by to visit, and that makes me feel important for sure, but I slept through it, so now Veronica probably has a warrant out for her arrest for all I know. So while I’m thrilled and buoyed by the support yesterday, it’s not really worth a visit at this point unless my stay gets even longer for some sad reason, or you really like to gaze at my sleeping, drooling, puke-stained face. (Ew.) (It’s a hospital story; there’s going to be some gore.)

Just proving I can still type. Love you all.

Dude, I don’t know. I’m 30, I have a good circulatory system, I’m not on any prescription meds, and I’m in generally great heath. If it’s any consolation, medical science is also currently baffled. I’ve had the CT, two sonograms, two MRIs, blood work, and I get an awesome probe shoved down my throat tomorrow for an internal sonogram looking for heart holes.

Here’s what happened. I was sitting down to watch “The Incredible Hulk” (first mistake) when my right eye suddenly decided to drift toward the ceiling. This obviously messed up my vision. I took out my contacts, observed my eyes pointing in different directions, and decided it was time to go to bed. Once in bed, I tried to call my mom for her professional opinion on rogue eyeballs. My speech at this time was very slurred, and Veronica says my face was slack on one side. I was drooling, and unable to stand up.

Laura Booth was a hero and served as ambulance driver. Both amazing women helped me shuffle to the car, where I discovered that I couldn’t make my hands touch, or touch my face. In the ER, I received prompt and friendly attention, as well as numerous painful horrors. About an hour after my eye went on vacation, and immediately after the insertion of a catheter (NOT recommended for a relaxing evening), my symptoms just went away.

I’ve been fine ever since (this was all last night) except for the tests and needles and whatnot, which really don’t bother me much. I’d like to thank my mom for being a nurse and raising me to not fear doctors or their instruments of torture. I’d like to thank all the in-the-loop friends who rushed here to make sure I still think inappropriately dirty jokes are funny. And I’d like to apologize to anyone who’s reading this and calling me only to find that my cell phone, unlike me, is dead. I will call you all soon. (Lodore, I miss you fiercely right now.)

What’s the takeaway? (In case someone needs to convert this to PowerPoint.) I’m fine. I will probably be fine. I may or may not find out ‘why’ tomorrow. Life is short. Insurance is not that expensive. Hospital food is, like airplane food, better than advertised, but not much. And “I had a stroke” is one of the few phrases in English that always has the full desired effect.

Don’t worry about me. I’m alive, and I make my living by having interesting stories to tell. This, thank God, is just another one.