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shrekshugebadussy · 6 years

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2017 has definitely been a year for me. it started off normal until about june. i went swimming with some friends and i got sick afterwards. my throat hurt and i was coughing. i had water stuck in my ears and they hurt, thinking they got infected (i used to always get ear infections when i was a kid. my ears don’t drain well). i went to urgent care and they took care of it. i then started feeling better and my cough went away and my throat started feeling better. and just when i thought i was going to be alright for good this time, i ended up fainting 3 times while at work.

i’ve fainted before when i was younger, but this time was different. i’ve never felt the heart palpitations before and definitely have never fainted more than once back to back like that. after i fainted the first time and i came to, i looked around and realized that i had actually caught myself from falling flat on the floor. but, thinking, “oh man not again, well, i should be fine now considering what i’ve done in the past.” nope. my head felt a little weird and i knew something was a little off. but i was very confused in the moment and i could really think for myself properly. my manager got me a chair and i got up and sat it in. i immediately felt worse and things started going black again. the next thing i know i’m on the floor again, this time face flat against it. my glasses got scratched and i ended up cutting my cheek a bit on my glasses. my initial reaction after coming to is to sit up. idk why. i just do. anyways they lied me back down on the floor and said they were calling 911. again, i was confused and couldn’t make the proper decisions for me, so i was like, “okay.” they thought i was having seizures by the way i was convulsing when i was out, but after i got up myself and got on the stretcher to go out to the ambulance, things started to get black again and i felt like i really wanted to sleep. i couldn’t keep my eyes open and i felt so weak and tired. i ended up fainting again while on my way out the door. they already had the monitor things hooked up to me on the stretcher so they saw that my heart rate dropped into the 30s when that happened so they knew it wasn’t seizures. i was fine afterwards after he had put an iv in me. i ended up staying in the er for about 8 hours and all they could tell me was that they couldn’t find anything wrong.

so i went home and i ended up spending the next 2-3 weeks recovering. by that i mean i got a week off work and had to go back in the second week even tho i still felt dizzy and like i wanted to faint at any moment. i didn’t, but i was only able to stay 3hrs a day that week. i pushed myself thru the lunch rush and then told them i needed to go home. the next week was better and i was pretty much fine after that. i never felt 100% since then tho, even tho most days were close. about august i ended up having some heartburn problems (i think it was. the zantac worked so i’m assuming it was). i wasn’t eating much anymore as my appetite seemed to have died when i fainted at work.

september came along and i started feeling acid reflux and heartburn again. it was kind of brutal but i started feeling better about halfway thru the month and i was going fine. but then i started running out of money and my appetite kind of went away again. i started to get so low that i wouldn’t go to classes if at all for a couple weeks. i didn’t even bother to go out and get groceries, meaning even if i wanted to eat i had nothing. i never realized how dehydrated i was either. until homecoming weekend in mid-october.

after the game my roommates’ friends came over and we all drank. it was an... eventful night, but it’s not really my place to talk about it. i drank more than i ever had in my life (which is nothing, i’ve never drank enough to get buzzed before so it wasn’t that much). i got buzzed this time and when i woke up the next day i could tell something was off. i didn’t even think that it was maybe dehydration and then drinking on top of that making it worse. i ended up going through the week feeling absolutely shitty. i would sit in class and just feel so weak and fatigued that i could barely lift my arm up without feeling like i was putting all my energy into it. i tried drinking more water but i think i was already so badly dehydrated that my body didn’t want to retain it or something. it ended up being that thursday of the week that i woke up and knew that day was going to be different. i was at my wits end. i decided i was going to go to health services on campus here, but i didn’t think i was going to be able to drive, let alone i also didn’t want to go alone. i was lucky enough i got a friend to take me. but then they said i had to have a referral from my pcp in order for them to take my insurance. i didn’t have a pcp, and the insurance place told my mom they couldn’t do anything unless i had that referral. so, as i’m sitting there trying to get things figured out, i felt like i was getting worse by the hour of the day. i was losing my patience and i felt horrible. i ended up telling my friend to just take me to urgent care.

when i got to the urgent care, i walked in and told the lady what was going on. she just looked at me and said reluctantly, almost, that with the way i’m feeling and the limited resources they had there, that i needed to be at the ER. so i went to the er and i had to explain myself again and again. that was when they did more tests on me to compare to june’s and the only thing they could notice was my heart rate being high. especially when i stood up.

they had me do the lay down, sit up, stand up test like 5 times throughout the 5 hours i was in the er. (actually the last three hours i think was when they really noticed it and kept testing it). they noticed that when i stood up, my heart rate spiked into the 120s and didn’t want to come down. after 2 ivs in the er, i was starting to feel better, but they decided to keep me overnight for observation on my vitals.

i got no sleep that night. i tried my best but i was so uncomfortable, out of my element, alone, and worried. i could hear other patients in the rooms next to me everynowandthen. at one point of the night i heard beeping and a nurse running down the hall (keep in mind i was in the cardiovascular part of the hospital stay or whatever). i kind of freaked out a bit and i just couldn’t rest. (i heard the nurse ask if he was alright and he said he was okay so idk). i also had a roommate. even tho we had the curtain to separate us, i still knew she was in the room with me. i was kind of uncomfortable with that too. i didn’t want to wake her or disturb her or anything. she was already having a lot of unbearable chest pains and all. plus, out the the 20 some hours i was there in that room, no one came to see her. i felt so bad for her. (and this wasn’t her first time in the hospital for cardiovascular events). i felt so bad for her.

anyways, i was so tired the next morning and i felt sick to my stomach. i really thought i was going to puke. they came in with breakfast and i tried my best to eat, but i couldn’t eat much. i eventually stopped trying and just laid there, suffering. my vitals thru the night were normal, but they were high normal. like, 80s-90s when laying down. when i got up tho, they still spiked into the 110s-120s. and i was already on my 4th bag of fluids. one doctor eventually came in and took an ultrasound of my heart. everything looked normal to them. the only thing they noticed (with other tests, not the ultrasound) was that i had an inverse of... some kind of waves, idr what they’re called, and one of my valves opens differently than normal. but, it’s not of any concern as they told me it’s just something people have. (learn something new every day huh?)

anyways, the cardiologist finally came in to see me after my mom got there. he started talking to me about how i felt when i fainted in june and all that. he said that it sounds like i had vasodeppressor syncope (idk how to spell it) in june and that it probably turned into POTS, considering most, if not all, of my symptoms were of pots. so he did his normal checking routine with the stethoscope and feeling my ankle and said that everything is working like it should, just why my heart rate is so high was a little confusing cuz i had 4 bags of fluids and it wasnt calming down like it should. he ended up giving me the lowest dose of metoprolol tartrate to see if that would work on calming my heart rate. if not then i would be put on the table. i really didn’t want to be put on the table. and i had really bad anxiety whenever the doctors would see me, so i shook a lot, and my heart rate when up during that time :/ but 🤷🏻‍♀️. after about an hour or so, the cardiologist came back and said that he liked where my heart rate was at (in the 70s now) so they released me that friday evening.

i went home, like, all the way home back away from school. i had my medication now and i was ready to get some rest. the only thing tho, was that i must’ve been so exhausted that i fainted again. i walked into my house and stood at the counter for awhile. i was reading the side effects and what not for my new medication and when i started reading about some of the side effects that could be dangerous idk why i thought i showed some but i started freaking out a bit and the next thing i know i’m fast walking to the living room trying to take a seat before things start going black on me. i only made it to the archway when things started going black and i said so out loud as my mom and brother were still in the kitchen. i must’ve made it to the couch tho cuz the next thing i know i’m sitting on the couch, hands on my cheeks repeating, “oh my god oh my god,” while my mom was in front of me consoling me. i didn’t come back all the way right away (if that makes sense). like. i went out and when i came too things were still partially black and my hearing felt like i was underwater and i could hear ringing. (no heart palpitations tho). i must’ve went out again not too long after that cuz then i remember sitting back up and my mom still consoling me telling me to lay back down. i was at a weird angle on the couch but i felt so tired and weak and i was afraid if i moved or even tried to get up i would faint again. we considered going back to the er there in lansing, but i seemed to be fine after the second event. my mom had never been around me when i fainted before, so this was new to her and it scared her (sorry mom). she said like what the others have told me when they watched me faint: my eyes roll back into my head and i start convulsing. which is weird cuz i don’t feel anything or hear anything or see anything, whatever. i just assumed i become limp and my eyes are closed 🤷🏻‍♀️. anyways, my grandma was called (she was with me when i was at work back in june) and she came over and they watched me for a bit. i’m sure my brother was scared too cuz he’s never seen me faint since we where kids. anyways, my mom called the nurse back from the hospital near my university and the nurse said that since i’m not a patient there anymore that she really couldn’t say whether or not i need to be back at a hospital. my mom had taken my heart rate when i was coming back and all that. i seemed to be fine, so my mom camped me out on the couch there and she slept in the chair next to me that night.

i slept fine that night. and even tho i was still not definitely 100%, i was just happy i got some sleep. i still felt super dizzy (my medication didn’t help majorly with this part) and i had trouble walking and standing for long periods of time as i was afraid i was gonna faint again. my mom helped me to the bathroom for a couple days and at the end of the week i ended up being alright to go back to school. i ended up not going back to classes right away tho cuz i still felt crappy and i needed to get used to the fact that i was back at school, alone and away from my mom/comfort.

then, halloween day, i had my first doctors appointment (and second technically as both were scheduled on the same day). i went to this one guy who is probably going to be my new pcp. the next one was the cardiologist. the pcp guy prescribed me prozac and both doctors said i was good and that they’re glad i’m doing alright. the cardiologist was happy with my heart rate and he told me he hopes i don’t have POTS cuz there’s no cure and it’s a headache to treat, but he would pretty much have to put me on the table to find out i’m afraid. anyways, i started prozac the next day and over the next couple nights i started to lose sleep. i couldn’t sleep no matter what and i was starting to feel absolutely exhausted and weak that i could barely walk to the bathroom without feeling like i could pass out. plus, my room was so freaking hot and i couldn’t open my window cuz a spider was in there so just fucking rip me i guess.

i eventually cracked open the window and my friend got me some melatonin that was able to help me sleep. i was able to get the spider with some spray but i got it on my finger and i went to wash my hands good, but when i was about done things started going black again and i somehow made it to my bed before i fainted so i was able to save myself. i lost my appetite throughout this whole weekend and my stomach hurt really bad. it ended up hurting most at night and the next morning i had gotten sick. only, there was basically nothing for me to get rid of. after i started getting some sleep i started feeding myself more (forcefully) and i drank more. i found a way to take my pill that was easier than trying to swallow it cuz at the time i couldn’t swallow it and i wasted one because of it. i ended up putting it in applesauce and i ate it that way for weeks. but, i had to force myself to eat cuz nothing sounded good and every time something went in my mouth i wanted to gag so it was rough. i eventually grew out of it and then i was able to eat well and drink more.

i missed classes for about a month. i have no motivation or ambition to get caught up on the things i’ve missed, even tho i’ve tried and succeeded on some. i’m failing about 3/4 or even all four of my classes. but i just can’t bring myself to care. i just want to go home. i haven’t been able to get a job bcuz of my condition and so i’m basically broke and idk what i’m gonna do. i felt pretty shitty this past week and today i’m actually feeling better but who knows how long that’s gonna last. i can try to get a job but idk who’s gonna take me with this condition and depends on what i can do cuz i ain’t going back to mcdonald’s where i’m on my feet for long periods of the day doing constant activity. i would faint again. i know it. and, i can’t just stop taking classes cuz then i would really have to get a job to start paying off my debts.

i can definitely say it’s been a year, but i guess i can’t say it’s been a bad one. (tbf id say the worst year was when my grandpa died and then my other relatives after that but anyways). i did get vip tickets to see my favorite band and even tho i wasn’t able to go, my friend picked up my items for me. and, i did come out to my mom and things haven’t changed between us so that’s good. she accepts me and just wants me to be happy and healthy. so i mean, this year hasn’t been horrible i guess.

sorry this was so long and if anyone even read all of this i thank you for taking and interest in me. i hope 2018 will be better for me and everyone else ❤️

#im so sorry this is so long #nobody has to read this #this is mainly for me to look back upon in the future but it is out here so read it if you really want to #mine #spacegayrants #quinns 2017 #long post

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attractiverubble · 7 years

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[day 128] - unassailable

I’ve gotten away from titling each blog post with a vocab word I want to hold onto for myself. I think a good vocab word for every 3 grafs you write is good. You never want to just vomit out words you took from a thesaurus to sound like you’re something smart and special, but still a lot of these words have a very exact definition that fits perfectly with the thought you’re trying to express. And using one of those every so often is a great skill to have as a writer.

I sometimes want to sit behind a dictionary and learn every word of the language, and hold onto the ones that can be useful. I’m sure I could learn another 1000 words or so, and know them forward and back.

there’s still so much shit to be discouraged about with the state of affairs, and it turns larger on the daily. I can only hope that the investigators are doing their due diligence. But i’m certainly desensitized to try and explain to my parents why this shit is so damn thick and what is happening, mainly because I’ve given up on them every trying to learn something new.

[god give you what you can handle]

Though it is cool to see how cultural critics and tastemakers are starting to, now, move past the overwhelming nature of the administration—how much bullshit that shows up. Not that they are necessarily resigned like I am, but the opposite.

They are certain this whole nightmare will be over before it can truly damage people. Not that it hasn’t already and hasn’t truly disrupted our foreign relations, but the sort of fear of unquestioned authoritarianism that popped up between 11/9 and the new year seems a little bit more far off now than it did then.

Its clear exactly how dumb and incompetent the people in power are, but they are still capable and able, and have already done so, of fucking people over.

My point I’m working toward, though, is that yes, things are somewhat fucked, but we shouldn’t be all that fearful. Stay vigilant, be aware, speak up and speak out.

Yes, trump is certainly a symptom of our society/culture, one that will be overcome soon enough. But the underlying disease that brought us to this point will remain, and we have to start battling that, not just trump.

So the cultural critics have now discredited the authority of the potus, mainly because the current potus is an insatiable fool, and we don’t let him affect us much anymore. We have no loyalty to him. So now we’ve moved back to regular cultural reflection and study.

Something I noticed over the past week is the analysis of that lizzie goodman book about indie rock in nyc in the early 2000′s. She sat in with Ezra Koenig’s beats 1 radio show last week, and they mostly talked about the initial reaction to this one minor excerpt about the strokes. Basically how people reacted to what was shared, and how Ezra - himself a subject in the book and someone who came along a bit after the initial upstart of this era - took from reading the excerpt, what he was somewhat scared to see about him and his band later on in the book, and also from the reactions of people over the past few weeks.

That radio show was last sunday. Then on thursday, LIzzie goodman sat in with Andy Greenwald and Chris Ryan’s “The Watch” podcast to talk about the entirety of the 600 page book. While they did somewhat touch on what it was like to write about this music at the time and how we look at it now (and I actually only made it halfway thru the podcast, so they could have talked about that much more later on and done so with some sense of objectivity), they basically just reminisced about their younger days around these up-and-coming bands and what life was like in Lower Manhattan for someone in their 20′s in the aftermath of 9/11 during the Bush years.

And they were very smart and very enlightened about all of the different factors that went into this scene. (I think Andy Greenwald’s definition of “scene” in this podcast was spot on, too). Ezra’s discussion with Lizzie was good with that as well.

[They - Chris and Andy and Lizzie - also talked about how none of this stuff is possible anymore, which is something I will tackle in more depth sometime soon]

These were two different programs, on two separate coasts, with 4 different people all talking about the same set of circumstances and people and quotes and places - Manhattan and the later on move to brooklyn. But they all spoke of a very similar feeling and time and place. Specifically stuff that was a bit before my time.

I remember first watching VW’s oxford comma after I finished eighth grade and was thrown into this world of indie rock. It took me a while to become familiar with all of the major players, and that’s why talk of the strokes and interpol and tv on the radio was all definitely before my time. I only started listening to them after they all reached their peak and people were hoping that the magic could be rekindled. But it never could.

That is to say that, starting now, there will be some sort of young cultural music movement that will somewhat define the generation. There’s been an emo revival recently, plus there’s all the good rap/trap music being made by new people. Perhaps that’s where indie music is now, I don’t know.

And it is kinda impossible to rekindle that original magic, because the way music is made and distributed is completely different, and the way it is covered is completely different.

Perhaps all of the cultural art is dead now - music/theater/art/sports. It is entirely possible the innovative, “progressive” field in the world right now is in the tech sector. That’s where you will find the interesting characters to write about for the next 30 years. “rock stars” were the stuff of legends for over 30 years, and so much has been inspired by them and their lives. But that lifestyle is over now, for the most part. There will still be super popular musicians/artists, probably even more famous than in the past, but not the overall amount there was during the golden age [Ezra touched on this very well in his time crisis radio program].

This all affects me in two ways. One: I want to be part of whatever cultural revolution there will be for people of my age. I want to be where it it is taking place. Certainly not in the suburbs, and definitely not in a city like New York or Brooklyn. This desire is simply self-indulgent. I want to have these great memories when I’m 50; be able to say “i was there.”

[total aside - my one co-worker said earlier this week how - as a writer - you have to go out and take chances and encounter experiences that will offer subjects to write about. She’s right, but something stuck in my craw. She mentioned how she’s now living in this suburban apartment in an office job she doesn’t really like, whereas before she lived in a downtown city setting (philadelphia) and she was a freelancer. She had great freedom and a great lifestyle for where she was at in her life. She had finished a master’s degree and was now creating her professional life, but she changed it all so she could get some security and health insurance, because she was turning 26 and would be kicked off her parents’ health insurance.

Anyway, she said how she sees this whole year - this whole experience of living in the suburbs and working some job she doesn’t really like - will one day turn into an essay for her to write. Something probably like 2000 - 5000 words, to be self-indulgent to herself {i’m probably at 2000 words right now in this post. Talk about self-indulgence}, but if she wants it to be published in some way, it will be capped at 1500 words. Heavily edited in a way she’s not happy with.

And that’s if it gets published in some sort of magazine or journal. Her initial premise was so fucking dumb - being 26 and living in the suburbs. As if there aren’t a million people doing that already. Perhaps that will be her audience, but she talks about only being a non-fiction writer, and being unable to write any sort of fiction. It makes me want to vomit, that she thinks her true life story about living in the suburbs at 26 is something compelling. Sounds exactly like something my parents told me to write about - living at home after finishing college. There’s nothing exciting about that, nothing that can possibly be important for historical records that can be truthful to one life. Fiction can take a lot more liberties and cover a lot more characters and perspectives and themes - a non-fiction essay just can’t. {sorry about this - I’m just trying to say that not everything should be a personal essay, or can even be transmuted into a personal essay. and her naïveté about the style is just frustrating to listen to}]

The second way up-coming music and culture affects me is that I want to be able to write about something novel. Something unique and innovative. Again, super self-indulgent and builds off my first way all of this change affects me, that I just want to be part of “the scene.” If you’re a journalist covering “the scene,” you’re not only part of it and can reminiscence later on, but you also determine how exactly the masses remember the moment and what it all meant. And, as I mentioned above, the tech sector has certainly been innovative over the past 5-10 years. I think it is actually starting to take a downswing, since it’s become abundantly clear that no matter how many great apps or platforms or products are on the market, the world will not be made a better, more just place. And there’s no more enthusiasm in the tech world.

Perhaps that is something I can cover, the last night of the tech sector, much like the last night of the yankee dynasty. A eulogy for big tech, if you will. Much like how this lizzie goodman book looks at the LCD Soundsystem final shows at MSG in 2011 as the final night of “indie rock,” or like the “Last Night of the Yankees Dynasty,” when they lost the 2003 world series and looked absolutely beaten and dejected at the end of that series.

Not that this is something I can necessarily start working on next week; I want to finish up this internship at the end of this year. See what sorts of changes pop up over the summer.

My main goal really should be getting back to school and getting myself focused. Put myself on a path that I can later add onto as I see fit.

I should start actually doing all of that work, and then after a bit, I can attempt to start pitching actual pieces of work - while also writing my own fiction. I still have this whole publishing schedule in place and a bunch of ideas to flesh out and put on a digital screen to then use as part of an application.

But I hate fucking around; I have a lot of work to do. I turn 23 in two days.

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