Well friends, I have defeated the apple. Mua ha ha ha ha.
Over the last 3 weeks, I have conquered plain pasta, wheat bread and reduced fat cheddar cheese, but the apple was proving to be quite the competitor. For the record, as a teacher who is paid to represent the amazingness of the coveted red apple on my desk, I do not appreciate getting thrown to the curb by a piece of lowly pie-making fruit. In addition to the whole GI situation, it became shockingly apparent that I haven't actually chewed anything crunchy in over a year...and let me tell you, my jaw needs some serious boot camp. Jaw calisthenics perhaps?
My exposure therapy with food is a very slow and painful process. On day one, I eat it in the most broken down form possible (all natural, pureed applesauce in this case). I eat that form day after day until I stop getting sick. Then I bump it up a notch (chunky, peeled applesauce) and eat that form day after day until I stop getting sick. Then this week I started eating teeny tiny pieces of peeled apples. Now granted, my body isn't thrilled that I have a) forced it to start eating foods that make noise, b) forced it to go under the knife and have my throat sliced open and c) forced it to keep on keeping on during this whole process. Regardless, I think we can rate the reaction to actual apples as "less than pleased." Well guess what brain, I'm persistent (trust me, I just took a personality test today...so I know these things) and today I conquered the apple. Did it have a peel on? Nope. Was it cut up as if being fed to an infant? Maybe. Was it the fifth time I had tried it? Perhaps.
However...I did it.
Break out the soy milk! Parrrrtay!
In other news, despite the fact that I've had a PICC line since early January, my body decided last week that I'm all of a sudden allergic to the sterile covering, and I now need to wear infant mittens to bed to keep from scratching my arm off. I mean, I guess my skin was bored and a new case of hives felt like some festive decorating for leap-day, right?
Well...all that ended today because...I've been de-picced! I don't want to jinx myself, but I think the removal of my picc line is further indication that my hypothetical news from last week might become actuality...but let's not get ahead of ourselves.
So, I'm thinking that I should replace the new lack of bicep bling with some actual bling...thoughts?
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
Pssst...I have a secret!
Friends, I have news.
I don't want to jinx myself (we've all seen my rock star skill in this department)...so I'll share this topic on a delicately hypothetical basis.
I may or may not have reserved a spot on a flying vessel that may or may not fly from the midwest to the east coast on Saturday March 3rd.
I may or may not be ridiculously excited about this hypothetical news.
Just sayin'.
I don't want to jinx myself (we've all seen my rock star skill in this department)...so I'll share this topic on a delicately hypothetical basis.
I may or may not have reserved a spot on a flying vessel that may or may not fly from the midwest to the east coast on Saturday March 3rd.
I may or may not be ridiculously excited about this hypothetical news.
Just sayin'.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Geological Excavation Complete
Well friends, I am now officially one salivary gland lighter. Yesterday afternoon, the surgeon removed my right submandibular gland and found it filled with another colossal stone (bigger than the first) and several small ones. Why my one gland was moonlighting as a rock quarry, we may never know, but regardless, it's gone now.
I spent the night in the hospital, which at Mayo, is a heck of a lot better than spending the night at any other hospital. Was I feeling rather rough? Ohhhhh Yes. But I did have my own room with on-demand movies and unlimited ginger ale and jello...gold star Mayo. The doctor had to insert a drain, so I was attached to a complicated web of tubes, in addition to my IV and blood pressure monitor, which made for some interesting attempts to get out of bed. Side note, when a doctor tells you it is painless to remove the drain, first question whether or not he's actually had one himself...because I can assure you it is a false statement. Pulling a foot long tube out of a gaping hole in my neck is now officially checked off of the bucket list.
In other news, don't take it personally if it looks like I'm scowling at you. Chances are, I'm not actually scowling...or maybe I am...you'll never know, mua ha ha. The surgeon had to move my nerve out of the way to remove the gland and it got a bit stretched out...oops. My exercise routine now consists of several sets of jaw and smiling calisthenics to try to get my nerve back in shape...totally attractive.
Being the celebrity that I am, everyone wants to see me, so the surgeon thought he'd jump in on the party and request a follow up in 6-8 weeks. Ya know, just in case I haven't seen enough of the city. Besides, having a welcome back party for someone with my fame is probably good for tourism, right?
I spent the night in the hospital, which at Mayo, is a heck of a lot better than spending the night at any other hospital. Was I feeling rather rough? Ohhhhh Yes. But I did have my own room with on-demand movies and unlimited ginger ale and jello...gold star Mayo. The doctor had to insert a drain, so I was attached to a complicated web of tubes, in addition to my IV and blood pressure monitor, which made for some interesting attempts to get out of bed. Side note, when a doctor tells you it is painless to remove the drain, first question whether or not he's actually had one himself...because I can assure you it is a false statement. Pulling a foot long tube out of a gaping hole in my neck is now officially checked off of the bucket list.
In other news, don't take it personally if it looks like I'm scowling at you. Chances are, I'm not actually scowling...or maybe I am...you'll never know, mua ha ha. The surgeon had to move my nerve out of the way to remove the gland and it got a bit stretched out...oops. My exercise routine now consists of several sets of jaw and smiling calisthenics to try to get my nerve back in shape...totally attractive.
Being the celebrity that I am, everyone wants to see me, so the surgeon thought he'd jump in on the party and request a follow up in 6-8 weeks. Ya know, just in case I haven't seen enough of the city. Besides, having a welcome back party for someone with my fame is probably good for tourism, right?
Monday, February 20, 2012
Same song, second verse...
Well friends, tonight's homework is to think of some really fantastic pirate stories. Unfortunately the laser damaged the duct of my right submandibular gland during the surgery to remove my stone, and now I need to get the gland removed. The doctor gave it a good two weeks to open on its own and despite the fabulous gland opening thoughts from blog readers across the world...no such luck. But I do appreciate the effort!
So. Tomorrow I go under the knife around 11:30 AM...well, I report at 11:30, which I've learned means that my actual surgery won't be until 1:30 or 2:00 PM...boo. I will be in the hospital overnight because the doctor will have to insert a drain into the site. Drains are standard in the neck area, because for obvious reasons, swelling in that department isn't the best (ya know, breathing is generally healthy).
The way I figure...it's one fewer gland for me to get a stone in again...right?
Ok, friends...pirate stories. Go!
So. Tomorrow I go under the knife around 11:30 AM...well, I report at 11:30, which I've learned means that my actual surgery won't be until 1:30 or 2:00 PM...boo. I will be in the hospital overnight because the doctor will have to insert a drain into the site. Drains are standard in the neck area, because for obvious reasons, swelling in that department isn't the best (ya know, breathing is generally healthy).
The way I figure...it's one fewer gland for me to get a stone in again...right?
Ok, friends...pirate stories. Go!
Sunday, February 19, 2012
We are going to need a much bigger bubble...
On Friday I had my follow-up appointment with the allergist and I got to take the hubby on a tour of the Mayo Clinic. He was amazed by the facility-especially how it works like a well oiled machine AND has a Dairy Queen on the subway level. A blizzard a day totally keeps the doctor away.
In any event, the allergy appointment was a total shocker. The extensive allergy testing the doctor had done for common allergens ALL came back negative...what? Most of you know that I am an allergy machine. Despite the fact that most outdoor allergens are dead in the winter and I don't currently have any pets (although I'm working on a dog...not making much progress with the hubs), I have always needed allergy medicine and eye drops year round. This has baffled my allergists for years. My eyes turn red and itchy both indoors and outdoors, and every season of the year. I am a professional sneezer and you will absolutely never find me without at least two tissues in my pocket. I also get sinus infections like it's my job. Well, friends, after 28 years, I finally know the reason. I, hot mess celebrity-status Mayo clinic patient extraordinaire, am allergic to air.
Yes, you read that correctly. Air. Like the kind that you breathe and is everywhere.
So it turns out that modern medicine has made extensive advances in identifying thousands of different allergens, but there are still many that have yet to be properly identified. My doctor has had a few patients who are allergic to diesel or to pollution, but the fact that my allergy appears both indoors and outdoors, and both in the city and the country, leads him to believe that I don't fit into that category. Duh. I form my own category doc, Mayo really should know this by now.
So, seeing as I'm already rather predisposed towards clumsiness and general awkwardness, placing my 6 foot self in a bubble doesn't seem like the best lifestyle move. So where does that leave me? Oh ya know, the usual. Placing a baby bottle nipple on the end of an anti-inflammatory inhaler and squirting it up my nose.
Totally. Normal.
In fact, it's so normal that the pharmacist had to call my doctor twice, just to confirm that she had, in fact, read the order correctly. She so politely shared with me, "I've never seen a prescription like this before!"
Puhlease. Of course you haven't. It's for celebs only.
In any event, the allergy appointment was a total shocker. The extensive allergy testing the doctor had done for common allergens ALL came back negative...what? Most of you know that I am an allergy machine. Despite the fact that most outdoor allergens are dead in the winter and I don't currently have any pets (although I'm working on a dog...not making much progress with the hubs), I have always needed allergy medicine and eye drops year round. This has baffled my allergists for years. My eyes turn red and itchy both indoors and outdoors, and every season of the year. I am a professional sneezer and you will absolutely never find me without at least two tissues in my pocket. I also get sinus infections like it's my job. Well, friends, after 28 years, I finally know the reason. I, hot mess celebrity-status Mayo clinic patient extraordinaire, am allergic to air.
Yes, you read that correctly. Air. Like the kind that you breathe and is everywhere.
So it turns out that modern medicine has made extensive advances in identifying thousands of different allergens, but there are still many that have yet to be properly identified. My doctor has had a few patients who are allergic to diesel or to pollution, but the fact that my allergy appears both indoors and outdoors, and both in the city and the country, leads him to believe that I don't fit into that category. Duh. I form my own category doc, Mayo really should know this by now.
So, seeing as I'm already rather predisposed towards clumsiness and general awkwardness, placing my 6 foot self in a bubble doesn't seem like the best lifestyle move. So where does that leave me? Oh ya know, the usual. Placing a baby bottle nipple on the end of an anti-inflammatory inhaler and squirting it up my nose.
Totally. Normal.
In fact, it's so normal that the pharmacist had to call my doctor twice, just to confirm that she had, in fact, read the order correctly. She so politely shared with me, "I've never seen a prescription like this before!"
Puhlease. Of course you haven't. It's for celebs only.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
I'm sweating...on the inside
Today was day four of rehab, and it was family day! My Valentine and I, who arrived late last night, spent the day together in different programs all about chronic illness and the effects on family and friends. All in all, it was a great program and we will go back for the second half tomorrow.
In other news, we've had a huge change of plans on my personal rehabilitation schedule. Originally, I was going to start a terrifying cocktail of drugs to calm down my hypersensitive nerves and then gradually reteach myself to eat. Now, the plan is the same...but minus the chemical help. Visceral hypersensitivity applies to drug/body interactions as well, and therefore all the drugs would accomplish is completely tranquilizing me and loading me up with terrible side effects. No thank you.
The good news is that I don't have to take the drugs...the bad news is that I don't get any help.
In a nutshell, re-teaching my brain is going to hurt...and there is no way around it. My body is going to continue to reject anything and everything, but I am learning some concepts to minimize how the pain/symptoms affects other parts of my body. Today I did a biofeedback session while eating a few pieces of a nutri-grain bar. My stomach was on fire, but after a few tries I was able to get the electricity in my body to slow down tremendously. I'm still going to feel sick as I learn to eat again, but I am learning to control the nerve impulses, which dampens the severity a bit. It's basically boot camp for my brain. I'm sweating my face off...but on the inside...and without any amount of spandex.
I made a plan with the dietician and I'll be re-training my brain verrrrrrry gradually. Basically, I'm a giant infant...but I'm already potty-trained and can dress myself. On Monday I'll try a few tiny pieces of a peeled apple. Then a few days later, I'll eat a few bigger pieces of a peeled apple. Then I'll eat a few pieces of peeled apple with a tiny bit of apple with skin...and so on, and so forth. It's basically exposure therapy for my insides. Unfortunately I do have to get my salivary gland removed on Tuesday (start thinking of the pirate stories my friends) so that will put a bit of a bump in the plans, but cest la vie.
So there you have it. Operation "Mark my words, I WILL eat again" is underway. Let's rock and roll!
In other news, we've had a huge change of plans on my personal rehabilitation schedule. Originally, I was going to start a terrifying cocktail of drugs to calm down my hypersensitive nerves and then gradually reteach myself to eat. Now, the plan is the same...but minus the chemical help. Visceral hypersensitivity applies to drug/body interactions as well, and therefore all the drugs would accomplish is completely tranquilizing me and loading me up with terrible side effects. No thank you.
The good news is that I don't have to take the drugs...the bad news is that I don't get any help.
In a nutshell, re-teaching my brain is going to hurt...and there is no way around it. My body is going to continue to reject anything and everything, but I am learning some concepts to minimize how the pain/symptoms affects other parts of my body. Today I did a biofeedback session while eating a few pieces of a nutri-grain bar. My stomach was on fire, but after a few tries I was able to get the electricity in my body to slow down tremendously. I'm still going to feel sick as I learn to eat again, but I am learning to control the nerve impulses, which dampens the severity a bit. It's basically boot camp for my brain. I'm sweating my face off...but on the inside...and without any amount of spandex.
I made a plan with the dietician and I'll be re-training my brain verrrrrrry gradually. Basically, I'm a giant infant...but I'm already potty-trained and can dress myself. On Monday I'll try a few tiny pieces of a peeled apple. Then a few days later, I'll eat a few bigger pieces of a peeled apple. Then I'll eat a few pieces of peeled apple with a tiny bit of apple with skin...and so on, and so forth. It's basically exposure therapy for my insides. Unfortunately I do have to get my salivary gland removed on Tuesday (start thinking of the pirate stories my friends) so that will put a bit of a bump in the plans, but cest la vie.
So there you have it. Operation "Mark my words, I WILL eat again" is underway. Let's rock and roll!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Itty Bitty Teeny Tiny Dance Moves
Happy Valentine's Day blog friends! I am super excited for the arrival of my valentine tomorrow and I think I'll wear a "Hello, my name is Lydia" badge, just in case he has forgotten what I look like after six weeks. Can't be too prepared, right?
Anyway, today was day two of my rehabilitation program and it has been a bit of a rough start. As you may remember, a program for me does not exist...so Mayo recommended me to this program, with the intention of modifying the curriculum to meet my needs. So it has been two days (four including orientation) and I have yet to see said modification. I haven't started any of the scary drugs to slow down my nerves and I haven't started any sort of "Let's teach Lydia to eat" plan. I have, however, discovered that the cafeteria serves vanilla frozen yogurt at lunch. Simple pleasures people.
My nurse case manager absolutely promises me that tomorrow I will meet with the doctor AND the dietitian to create a plan...fingers crossed! But in the meantime, I've gone to several informational sessions on the power of addiction and the pharmacology of opiate pain medication...all extraordinarily helpful information for the hot mess in the back row who can't even take Advil. Today I took session 1 (of 6) on Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and ended up partly teaching the session after the instructor realized I was an elementary school teacher. I now have people coming up to me and asking for help with their kids...maybe I should pull a Lucy and start charging 10 cents for advice.
I also earned a serious gold star in physical therapy today when the therapist asked me if I could handle 5 minutes of aerobic activity and I did 30...and only stopped because I was late to my next class. Come on now people, pain or no pain, I don't generally sit still...just ask my husband.
All sarcasm aside, I haven't lost hope and refuse to be sent away without a fight (which I do very productively, I took anger management today after all). I'll meet with the doctor and dietitian tomorrow and hopefully be on my merry way towards a big, steaming pizza (with fresh mozzarella, basil and tomato please...although at this point, I'm not too picky). The muscles around my veins are working super hard at physical therapy and I'm determined to get my blood to flow at least semi-regularly by the time I leave. I've been practicing what I learned at biofeedback last week and I'm eager to try it again on Thursday. I am also learning lots of helpful modifications in occupational therapy to avoid back pain, including the purchase of a "grabber" to pick pencils up off the floor at school...try to contain your jealousy. And yes I'm 28, not 82.
So. I'm not really moving forward, but I'm absolutely determined not to move backwards either. So I'll call it itty bitty teeny tiny dance moves in place. More like a cha-cha, perhaps?
Anyway, today was day two of my rehabilitation program and it has been a bit of a rough start. As you may remember, a program for me does not exist...so Mayo recommended me to this program, with the intention of modifying the curriculum to meet my needs. So it has been two days (four including orientation) and I have yet to see said modification. I haven't started any of the scary drugs to slow down my nerves and I haven't started any sort of "Let's teach Lydia to eat" plan. I have, however, discovered that the cafeteria serves vanilla frozen yogurt at lunch. Simple pleasures people.
My nurse case manager absolutely promises me that tomorrow I will meet with the doctor AND the dietitian to create a plan...fingers crossed! But in the meantime, I've gone to several informational sessions on the power of addiction and the pharmacology of opiate pain medication...all extraordinarily helpful information for the hot mess in the back row who can't even take Advil. Today I took session 1 (of 6) on Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and ended up partly teaching the session after the instructor realized I was an elementary school teacher. I now have people coming up to me and asking for help with their kids...maybe I should pull a Lucy and start charging 10 cents for advice.
I also earned a serious gold star in physical therapy today when the therapist asked me if I could handle 5 minutes of aerobic activity and I did 30...and only stopped because I was late to my next class. Come on now people, pain or no pain, I don't generally sit still...just ask my husband.
All sarcasm aside, I haven't lost hope and refuse to be sent away without a fight (which I do very productively, I took anger management today after all). I'll meet with the doctor and dietitian tomorrow and hopefully be on my merry way towards a big, steaming pizza (with fresh mozzarella, basil and tomato please...although at this point, I'm not too picky). The muscles around my veins are working super hard at physical therapy and I'm determined to get my blood to flow at least semi-regularly by the time I leave. I've been practicing what I learned at biofeedback last week and I'm eager to try it again on Thursday. I am also learning lots of helpful modifications in occupational therapy to avoid back pain, including the purchase of a "grabber" to pick pencils up off the floor at school...try to contain your jealousy. And yes I'm 28, not 82.
So. I'm not really moving forward, but I'm absolutely determined not to move backwards either. So I'll call it itty bitty teeny tiny dance moves in place. More like a cha-cha, perhaps?
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