The last couple of weeks have been, well, great!

- I'm regaining weight. And not just fat or water either. I'm actually regaining muscle mass. I've lost a total of 40+ pounds since June, and some weight gain in the form of lean tissue mass is good news.
- No more please-god-take-me-now bouts of headaches and dizziness
- My BP no longer averages 210/100. These days I average at 150 systolic and peak at 190. Still astronomically high, but not that immediately life-threatening.
- I can actually sit up long enough to do artwork again! Whoohoo! This also means I can cook for myself again (which is probably why I'm regaining weight)

So I downloaded Simustrans, which had midi-based music. This got me into a nostalgic mood so I went hunting for free midi music.

One of the first themes I ran into was Aerith's theme from FF7.

Fuck all you FF7 haters. The opening bars made me cry.

I've been hypertensive for years, but the past month and a half was... painful. My BP averaged 200/100 and would shoot up to 230/130. I've had a constant headache and dizzines and haven't been able to even sit up for over a month due to pain and nausea. Ever seen those bobble head car decors that jiggle? that's how I feel when I'm lying still. I've also lost 40 pounds.

The docs were worried I might have a stroke, or that the headache was caused by something else, but nothing showed up on exams.

The fistula I had isn't holding -- I'm now sporting a foot-long hematoma on my left arm thanks to trying to use it for dialysis. Considering the jugular catherer is already past 4 months, its going to have to replaced, maybe a new fistula.

It just gets fucking worse.

Finally, I had my AV fistula done on my left arm. For those unfamiliar with what it is, it's basically where an artery is directly connected to a vein. This is done so that the blood vessels in that artery/vein will thicken and allow dialysis to be done there. Hopefully within a couple of months it heals so that this catheter down my jugular can be removed.

They (both catherer and fistula) hurt like bloody hell.

Anyway, I had it done at the National Kidney and Transplant Institute, at a bargain basement price. By bargain basement, I mean I can't pay it off even if I save for year (which I can't). I should be thankful, considering at the local hospital it cost 6 times as much.

My schedule was 9 am. I arrived 8:30 am. Then I waited for 4 hours, because the OR had so many patients. After 4 hours of waiting, I was stripped and dressed in a gown... then placed in a room so cold I thought it would snow. The 70 year old lady beside me said her teeth hurt from chattering from the cold, and I agree. There I waited for 3 hours when I finally was wheeled in. I couldn't complain -- I knew the procedure already cost (relatively) next to nothing.

At the NKTI, there were sorrier souls than I was. The lady I mentioned? She was sent home (after waiting 8 hours -- she arrived before I did). Apparently, her veins were too small, and the doctor said he _could_ operate... at 3x the price and with only 20% success. Man, I felt so sorry for her, since she could barely afford the procedure at normal prices. The guy after me? He sold his house. The guy after that? He was being paid for by a charity organization and was going to have to procedure done for free... _after_ everyone who was paying was done. It was already 4pm and the OR was about to close, so he was told to come back tomorrow and wait last in line again.

It puts things into perspective.




The doctor was trying to convince me to get a transplant (half price offer of 1.5 million!). My sister immediately said she would be my donor.

Over my very dead and decaying body she will. I love her and I know she loves me, but, really, that's just BS.

Diabetic for 20 years, now I guess it's time for the endgame.

I've been feeling progressively ill for the past couple of years. I was getting more and more easily tired, and developed a cough and chills that won't quit. Last May, I also developed a fever.

When one day I could barely stand up, my sister brought me to the ER.

I had in addition to DM:

- anemia
- pneumonia
- pulmonary tuberculosis
- congestive heart failure
- hypertension
- gall stones
- chronic renal failure

I needed emergency dialysis. I couldn't even sit up, and could only answer in grunts. I was in stage 5 renal failure for weeks and didn't know it. My mom couldn't afford dialysis at that hospital, so she hemmed and hawed for a few days. 3 days in that hospital there already cost me and my mother everything,

By some miracle, my old classmates found out what had happened and they transferred me to a hospital where they worked, lessening some of the costs. I got the emergency catheter inserted into my jugular and emergency (2am) dialysis. I was barely conscious throughout all of this, and at one point they actually assigned a junior intern by my bedside because I could go into convulsions any second.

[anecdote]

The new hospital I was in was a far cry from the hospital I came from. Some of the doctors blatantly asked why I transferred (and I replied honestly: "I have no more money"). It was't exactly dingy (not like the hospitals I used to study/work in), but it wasn't exactly cutting edge either.

While I was being x-rayed, I said to my sister, "this place looks like a cat lives here". She laughed and agreed.

While I was being dialysed, a cat came wandering bye. Huh. A cat _does_ live there. Despite being only half conscious, we had to laugh.

[/end anecdote]

I spent the week the hospital, slowly improving. I was told that I would be on lifetime dialysis. 22 pills a day in addition to the IV meds. Yummy.

Once out of the hospital, we tried to find a dialysis center close to where I live. Thankfully, there's one within an hour's drive. The doctor there diagnosed me with depression. Thanks captain obvious. Nice place, though. I'd recommend it to anyone who needs dialysis.

4 days later, I developed cough like I was puking my guts out plus 41 degree fever. Back to the hospital I go.

This time, I had a _new_ case of pneumonia plus a staphyloccocus aureus infection. Yay. I spent the next 10 days in the hospital under more antibiotics.

Unfortunately... the dialysis unit of the hospital shortedout. This meant that I had to be moved via ambulance to a dialysis center in another city. Ambulance rides were fun -- all I did was throw up in them. One of the interns and my maid accompanied me.

In addition to the discomfort of an ambulance to and from the dialysis unit, I had an experience with that specific dialysis center that made me (and my sister and mom) never to go back to that center again:

I lost consciousness. No, I did not fall asleep. I freaking blacked out.

I was already feeling quite uncomfortable when I was seated. I felt hot and was sweating profusely. I tried telling the nurse and the intern that something was wrong, but apparently they were too busy flirting with one another and ignoring me. The intern, in particular, had a bad attitude that even my mother, sister, maid could feel. I felt it more -- I knew she was doing a half-assed job of monitoring my vitals.

Losing consciousness during dialysis was pretty funny, actually. A few seconds just before I blacked out, 4 thoughts raced into my head:

1) oh shit, I'm going to pass out, I know it
2) oh fuck, I know more about medicine than the intern and the two nurses that are watching me right now
3) oh hell, I know I know more than they do, and if our situations were reversed I'd likely be panicking -- the dialysis unit almost has no other medical equipment. Oops, there goes one nurse, she starting to panic, and the intern is looking glassy eyed
4) ah, screw this, I'm not fighting it...zzz....

Fortunately, there was at least one consultant that arrived later that knew what to do (this was related to me later). My maid, who isn't trained in anything, was also raising bloody hell (good bless her heart) and kept the dialysis staff actually doing something instead of freezing up. Heh. Apparently, my blood sugar dipped to below 50 (most people would already feel light headed at 80). Note: it was my maid, not the nursing staff nor the intern, who recognized the symptoms of hypoglycemia and took my blood sugar with our own blood sugar monitor. She was the one who told the consultant that my blood sugar was dangerously low. Some D50 in my blood and I regained consciousness 15 minutes later. When I came to she force fed me some chocolate cake.

Anyway, no way I'm going back there. Hell, even in the new dialysis center I'm going to the nurses are complaining about that place.

The worst part of those 10 days was not the dialysis (no, not even that incident). It was that I was starting to experience some of the side effects of the drugs I was taking. I couldn't eat or drink -- everything I tried to put in my mouth tasted like rust. I started to get dizziness for 8 hours straight. Think riding a roller coaster, non-stop. I toyed with the idea of smashing my mirror and slitting my throat to end it all. Looking back I feel ashamed, but, yes, it was that bad. I also vomited non-stop, even if my stomach were empty. I was given an anti-emetic, but that only made things worse. I wanted to throw up, but couldn't. When the drug finally wore off and I managed to vomit, it felt better than an orgasm. I cursed my medical training -- I knew that it was one (or more) of the anti-koch's drugs that I was reacting to, and I knew I had to take it for at least another 6 months otherwise I'd likely end up with a methicillin resistant strain, in which case I'd be well and truly fucked even more than I currently am. A few days into the treatment and I was already praying to die. I couldn't take 6 months of it.

The doctors took off the medications and started reintroducing them one by one to see which drug I'm specifically reacting to. I'm still not on everything I should be taking (more on that later). The nausea stopped, at least for the time being.

Soon, the cough and fever cleared and I went home.

4 days later, my entire body was covered in hives. In addition, all my joints were so swollen that even the slight movement caused me to cry out in pain. Back to the hospital we go.

Here, again I cursed my medical training. What could cause the symptoms I was experiencing? Allergic reaction? If so, its pretty goddamn severe. I tried taking severel different antihistamines over the past 4 days (double-checking for dosages in patients with renal failure), and at most they'd provide a couple of hours of relief from the itching. An allergic reaction that bad would mean likely I would have to stop taking the drug I was taking. If it was one of the anti-koch's, I'm screwed. At the back of my mind, I thought of lupus, but I had already forgotten what the exact symptoms of lupus are and was too much in pain to look it up, but I knew it would be bad if it were lupus.

At the hospital, I was presented with other possible diagnosis... and lupus was a very real possibility.

The specific test for lupus could only be conducted in a few hospitals, so it took a few days for the results to get back. In the meantime, it was a harrowing wait. I told my sister about the possibility for lupus, but not my mother. We cried a little. The problem is that the treatment for lupus is high doses of steroids... which will cause the TB to flare up. The doctors admitted that if it turns out that I had lupus, I was essentially fucked, with the TB and renal failure and all.

Hey, Job, I'll trade your boils for what I have.

The test came back negative. Me and my sister cried a bit more.

It wasn't all good news (ha! that's impossible!). Apparently, I _was_ severely allergic to one of the anti-Koch's drugs, while another was raising my uric acid levels to the high heavens. I had gouty arthritis. These meant several things: 1) the likelihood of developing a resistant strain of TB was extremely high because I had to stop taking one drug; 2) I have to take the drugs for 9 months instead of 6; 3) I had to replace one of the pills with an intramuscular injection; 4) I had to take more drugs to treat the uric acid levels; 5) the excruciating pain I felt will be _recurring_; 6) I can't take a lot of painkillers because of renal failure.

Hey, but at least it isn't lupus, right?

Anyway, I was released from the hospital. And, now, here I am, back online. That specific hospital stay wasn't so bad. The two interns that were assigned to me were both extremely friendly. One was extremely competent, and the other pleasantly reminded me of a girl I used to like in school. Ahh...

tl;dr -- got sick, and will remain sick in the forseeable (likely short) future