One day I was in a meeting with two co-workers. We were in a conference room discussing a major initiative we were starting. I was listening to the two of them but kept hearing some noise that was distracting me. "What the hell is that sound?" I kept thinking as I casually looked around the room, searching for the culprit. Eventually I discovered the source.
It was me. Every breath I took was accompanied with a slight wheezing sound. I didn't hear much else in that meeting after that because I was too busy thinking, "HOLY SHIT! I'M FUCKING WHEEZING FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!"
After that I made a solid effort to quit smoking. Coincidentally, I started around the time I turned thirty. It was very hard and took some time. For about a year I was a "social smoker", I only smoked when I was at a bar or drinking. I had one relapse for about a month or two around the holidays, but eventually stopped again. In a few months I will turn thirty-five and I'm happy to report I've been 100% smoke-free for about three or four years.
In addition to quitting smoking, I've also made great strides in improving my health. Pizza pockets are no longer a staple of my diet. I conquered my disgust of salad. I exercise regularly. I take vitamins and supplements daily. I see my doctor often for regular check-ups. Health-wise, I am a completely different person from who I was in my twenties.
So why the fuck does it feel like my body is constantly falling apart!?
This year overall has been particularly stressful in terms of my health. First, there is the whole dealing with depression. Then my tumble down the stairs. Of course, who could forget my two week stint with "yellow death". But I've made it through all of that with flying colors, whatever that means. Today, I feel great! The best I've felt in years.
So why the fuck does it feel like my body is constantly falling apart!?
One of the requirements to become a volunteer at the homeless youth program is to get a simple skin test for tuberculosis. TB is common among the homeless. Monday, I showed up at the outreach center. In the medical van I was given the test, a simple prick of a needle on the underside of my forearm. I was told what it would look like if there was something to worry about and instructed to come back in two days to have it checked.
Yesterday morning I climbed aboard the medical van to be greeted by the nurse. "How does it look?" she asked. "Okay I guess," I said and I stuck out my arm to show her. It looked nothing like she described on Monday. There was a little redness but I assumed that was because I have very sensitive skin. I can eat seasoned fries and get a rash.
"Oh honey, that's not fine," she said examining my arm. "That's positive."
"WHAT!?" I clipped out in disbelief.
Then she called out to the other volunteers. "Everyone gather around so you can see what a positive skin test looks like." The others swarm around me inspecting my arm. My head is swimming with questions, but I have to take some time out to be a case study for the med van crew. The nurse even when so far as to mark on my arm with a pen to show everyone the characteristics of a positive result. "You see here. See that it's not only red but also raised. That tells you it's positive."
After everyone had sufficiently familiarized themselves with my arm, I asked the nurse what it means. She said that at some point I have been exposed to TB. "WHAT!? How?" I shot off again looking at my arm. She asked me a bunch of routine questions. Then she tells me I will have to go to "County" for a chest x-ray. My mind pictures not an ER filled with pretty doctors like on ER, but a scary run-down free clinic filled with plenty of people who could expose me to TB.
She calls many numbers and eventually gives up and tells me to just go see my primary care physician. I tell her okay and I have an appointment scheduled for next week to see him.
"No. He needs to see this today."
Alright. That's calming.
So I call my doctor's office and they get me an appointment later that morning. I go back to work and pack up my things because fuck if I'm going to be able to concentrate anymore that day.
When my doctor enters the room, he greets me and makes small talk. He sits in his little rolling chair and with his feet backs himself up against the opposite wall. I am so scared and freaked out at this point.
"Are you backing away from me because I am super contagious or something!?"
He looks up and laughs. He says no. He just wants to rest his back against the cabinet. He explains what the test means and what active and latent TB is. He tells me I most likely have latent TB which means I have been exposed but it is lying dormant inside me and I'm not contagious to anyone. He tells me I will have a chest x-ray to confirm the diagnosis and will have to take medication for a year to get rid of it.
"Great," I think. "Another fucking pill. I'm going to have to start keeping them all in a tackle box eventually."
He tells me I will have to see him in a month and I don't need to see him next week. I bring up the things I was going to discuss with him next week, which lead to me being referred to a dermatologist for a suspicious mole and an ear, nose, throat guy for a problem with my sinuses. "What else can go wrong today?" I wondered.
Then I get a blood test to check my liver function, because that is a risk with this medication. (Super!) I get my chest x-ray and go to the pharmacy to fill my prescription. By the time I got home, I was mentally exhausted and just went to bed to take a nap.
While it's fun to rant, bitch, moan and make comedic fodder about this, it is a good thing that I found out before it turned into activ
I wasn't feeling my best yesterday. Bit of a cold, but it usually doesn't last too long with me. My immune system is chock-full of vitamins, minerals and antioxidants that it takes a lot to get me full-blown sick.
The worst is when I see people with their little Germ Babies® out in public. Put those things back in the pod man! Germ Babies remind me of an episode of Invader Zim where he was OBSESSED with germs and Gir was the main source of them. I bet if I had Zim's germ googles, all Germ Babies would be glowing in oozy green color. Ick.
It's a simple request really.
Why is it when I meet someone and we laugh and have a fun time and enjoy each other's company and we seem to dig each other which is odd, because I rarely dig anyone but for whatever reason, I seem to dig this guy...why is it that my brain kicks in and starts over-analyzing EVERY little thing to the point that I am actually cataloguing a pro and con list, thus ensuring that I will ruin a relationship before there is even a relationship to ruin?
