True story. As soon as I think I’ve seen everything…
- John types too loud. Can you do something about that?
- What kind of rating are you giving me this year?
- I have this hemroid creme that I have to carry with me everywhere…
- I’m in severe intestinal distress, can I go home?
- Our cubes are old. Can we get new ones?
- Bob smells. Can you tell him to take a shower?
- Sorry I’m late… I was on the toilet all morning.
- You showed up on security’s radar. Were you looking at adult content on your work computer?
- Can I “work from home” to watch the World Cup game?
Last week I went back the the neurologist for my EMG. They actually performed two different tests, neither one being very pleasant.
The first consisted of this super nice nurse giving me electric shocks all over my arms. First she took a pen and drew out different measurements on my hands, arms, and shoulders. Then she used those measurements to determine where to trigger electrical signals. At first it was pretty mild. It felt like what happens when you shock yourself on a doorknob. Then I saw her crank it up and watch my arms flail about.
For the second test, the doctor stuck little needles in my muscles. He told me to relax and the flex. The cool thing was that the needles were somehow connected to the audio system in the examination room. So when I flexed, I could HEAR my muscles contracting.
At the end of all these tests it was determined that I had “no evidence of electrical instability”.
well, I bit the bullet and went to the doctor. I found myself feeling really anxious. I don’t like going to the doctor.
First I went to the on-site clinic. She agreed my the number and severity of my headaches was unacceptable and gave me some prescription pain killers. She also referred me to a neurologist.
So I met with the neurologist. He asked me a lot of questions, analyzed my posture, asked me to walk across the room, tested my reflexes, and examined my neck and shoulders. He rambled on to the nurse practitioner about things I couldn’t quite catch: Something about my spine, then some muscle in my neck, and finally abnormally low reflexes in my arms.
He suggested I may even have a slight sleep disorder and that might be contributing to my migraines. Then he gave me a lot of homework.
- Take a new 2nd prescription next time I get a bad migraine
- Keep a sleep journal
- Get more sleep and sleep on my back
- Keep a headache journal
- Get an MRI of my head and neck
- Get lots of blood work
- Get an EMG
- Come back for a follow up appointment to review the results
So, I’ve been going to bed early. That part is nice but I don’t like falling asleep on my back.
I was nervous about the MRIs. Am I allowed to look around? Apparently I’m supposed to keep that to a minimum. So, I figured I would find something on the ceiling of the mri machine to stare at. It will look just like what it does on “Grey’s Anatomy” right? So the nurse sends me in, and I immediately notice two things. One is that the ceiling is only a few inches from my face. So I really can’t look anywhere very far. Two, is that there is nothing to stare at. The ceiling is just one flat piece of white plastic. So that made the next two hours fun. No moving, and trying to ignore every itch.
we are going through another reorg at work. I’m getting another team of about 10 people. I need to do a bunch of work in the strategy space to further enable governed access to data.
My plate is already full. Now… how can I find a replacement for my special project?
I woke up this morning with another migraine. I forced myself to take some aspirin and eat some breakfast, which I immediately threw up.
I’ve never vomited from a migraine before.
I think it’s time to see a doctor.
i found myself chasing Harvey around the living room. Not because he did something he shouldn’t have, but because he wanted to be chased. We ran from the living room to the dining room, to the kitchen, where I dove a bit to catch him. I did catch him… as I fell to the floor and uncontrollably broke out in little-school-girl giggles. It was nice.
I am not well.
Yesterday, I wasn’t feeling great. I toughed it out and went to work. I should have left earlier. By the time I left my head was pounding and I felt nauseated.
I get what I think are migraines from time to time, but it has been awhile since I’ve gotten one this bad. Unfortunately for me, I was far from home and had to concentrate extra hard on not getting into an accident.
I was very relieved to get home. I walked in the door and told Matt that I think I might puke. I usually try to sleep off my migraines, so I went upstairs and crawled into bed. Matt got a cold wash cloth for my forehead. I tried to sleep, but I was not successful. After a couple hours, the pounding had not improved so I knew we needed to try something else. Water. Maybe I’m dehydrated? Food. I forced myself to eat even though I was not hungry. More pills. Why didn’t they work the first time? Nothing seemed to be working. I tried putting an ice pack on the back of my neck. Cold. Very cold. I had Matt put pressure on the acupressure points in my hand. Maybe I need to go to the doctor? Just think of all the lights and movement required to do that.
I sat as still as I could… hydrated, fed, iced, and pressured. Eventually, the pain dulled and I was able to get some sleep.
This morning, I could still feel it. Dull, but there. Just waiting to ramp back up if I start moving around or look at something bright. There is no way I’m leaving this house today until I know it is gone.
Go away migraine. Go away.
I don’t have a great memory, but certain moments stick in my mind. The year was 1989. I was enjoying the company of my cousins in what I think must have been a break room in a funeral home. Our grandmother had just died from cancer. Even as a child, the break room seemed small, just large enough to house a small table and a few chairs. One wall was covered in wallpaper while the other wall, a half wall, sported wood spindles separating this room from the hallway. My cousins and I were crowded inside while the grown ups mourned with each member of the visitation line in the next room. We were playing that wooden peg game…do you know what I’m taking about? The one where you jump pegs until only one is left.
I hadn’t thought about that moment in years, until yesterday. Yesterday, I met up with the same cousins for the same reason. Only this time we were burying someone from the next generation, one of our parents. This time, it was my mom’s sister. I am not sure where the time went. It seems too soon. While all the cousins are grown, there are no grandkids to play games in the next room. There is no sudden feeling of adulthood that tells you how to deal with things or what to say. I suppose it is like everything else in life that you never feel ready for.
For some reason the world thinks I’m guilty. I guess I am. But I don’t care.
I’ve had several occasions lately where people in my life assume I need their advice whether or not I ask for it.
Awhile back I went out to dinner with some former coworkers. We had a nice evening of catching up and chatting. On the way out, one of them had to comment out of the blue, “Take care if yourself Anna. You know there is more to life than work…” What? Ok… you probably didn’t mean to be incredibly offensive, but what the hell? Just because I don’t spend my evenings exactly like you do, you think you should lecture me? What part of our one hour dinner made it safe to assume you know everything about my life?
Then over the weekend, I was at a barbecue with extended family. Any conversation is immediately driven to “burning out” or “wasting my life”. I apparently missed the part when I said I was miserable.
Who the hell gave you the permission to judge me? You see me once every 6 months and that makes you some expert?
Alright, I admit it. I work hard. Since when is working hard a bad thing? All my life I was taught that it pays off and now you want me to stop? Maybe… just maybe I don’t want to do anything half-ass. Maybe I want to know that I give 100% to whatever I do. If you want to give less than that, you don’t see me judging you.
Or is it that you oppose what I’m working on? Well if that is the case, it is still none of your business. Get over it.
I’m going to keep working my ass off. I won’t apologize for it.
How could you say no to this face?