My beloved friend Jeff was a rather serious hypochondriac and he'd be convinced that every malady was life-threatening, even if it was something like a splinter. In college it would make me laugh to watch him freak out at every sneeze, sure that it was SARS or monkey-pox. He was someone who should have never been allowed to watch any medical shows or movies.
Confession: I'm a hypochondriac too. Just about the wrong things. Like when I had the whooping cough back at the beginning of 2006 I was convinced it wasn't something serious and that some orange juice and rest would cure me right up until I stopped being able to breathe (btw I just went back and read that post...it has a lot of crap in it. Kelly Clarkson, Burt Reynolds and my decision to apply to Windy Gap...wow).
But then I could have a sore throat and I'll be convinced that I'm having an allergic reaction and that my throat is closing and that I need an EpiPen right at that moment. So odd. I just don't want to live in medical fear.
I should probably find a way to balance that out, recognize the serious and the benign before my arm falls off from leprosy and I'm convinced it's just a cramp.
Showing posts with label Hyper-hypo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hyper-hypo. Show all posts
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Fingers and Frets
Saturday night I hung out with some friends in a downtown warehouse where guitars are built and we played darts and laughed til way too late. I haven't played much guitar since I moved to North Carolina and I have no idea why; every time I pick one up I think, "I really love this, why don't I do this more often?" but then I get distracted and busy and my guitars get dusty, something that never happened for the first 13 years I played. The builder let me play some of his custom guitars and their beauty was not merely asthetic; the sound was wonderous. I preformed all the time in college, playing and singing and yet haven't done it since. It was odd to find myself doing it again; actually singing in front of people, especically since I used to do it regularly. It was a part of my daily routine and now that part of me has been buried by so much other stuff. Dusting off the fingers and frets and finding that voice again was its own version of life-giving.
Happy Father's Day. Yay for fathers!
I'm starting to work contract programs for Montreat's Challenge Course. I had an interview with them last week and I think it went swimmingly, just further proof that I'm way better in person than I am on paper. First program is Wednesday.
Text Message of the Weekend: "Lots of things make me think of Taps...like popcorn and everytime I throw up in a bush." --Caroline Romano (in reference to the time four of us went Taps, a townie bar, 8 days straight on a quest to become "regulars" back in 2003 in what has come to be known as "Taps Week")
There are currently six pairs of shoes in my car. Why I don't know.
Had a hypoglycemic attack this morning and lost my vision for a bit. That was scary but I got juice and didn't pass out so game on, suckas. Nobody gonna break my stride.
Happy Father's Day. Yay for fathers!
I'm starting to work contract programs for Montreat's Challenge Course. I had an interview with them last week and I think it went swimmingly, just further proof that I'm way better in person than I am on paper. First program is Wednesday.
Text Message of the Weekend: "Lots of things make me think of Taps...like popcorn and everytime I throw up in a bush." --Caroline Romano (in reference to the time four of us went Taps, a townie bar, 8 days straight on a quest to become "regulars" back in 2003 in what has come to be known as "Taps Week")
There are currently six pairs of shoes in my car. Why I don't know.
Had a hypoglycemic attack this morning and lost my vision for a bit. That was scary but I got juice and didn't pass out so game on, suckas. Nobody gonna break my stride.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Pass part II
When I got back from the fateful Gillian Welch show where I passed out I felt the need to send Gillian a myspace message to apologize for stealing her juice. I just got a response from her:
"I used to pass out at dead shows all the time... just glad you were ok... your welcome to our juice any old time you need it. Love, g "
HA! That rules.
A fun ending to a rather crazy story.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Pass?
Here is an email I sent out to some of my friends earlier today about last night...
Last night I went out to the Gillian Welch concert with my friend Katherine. We got there early and walked down the street to this great Indian restaurant and simply had a grand time. We were very, very full when we left. Got to the concert and staked out our little standing room in the middle of the room, about 6 "rows" from the front. The Orange Peel is a standing room only venue with bars along the side walls, like the 9:30 Club in DC only smaller. We grabbed small beers (one each) and slowly finished them over the hour before the show started. Gillian and David Rawlings came on stage, and it's another wonderful show by the duo. Standing that long is painful for me, but I'll endure it for the sake of a great live show, but last night my right shoulder and back were just KILLING me. I couldn't get comfortable. Then, about 5 songs in, it happened. It felt like these hot fingers were rising from my torso into my head, wrapping it's spindly fingers around my brain and taking all the blood from it. I got very, very hot and my vision blacked out. I grabbed Katherine's arm and said, "I'm having a reaction" but over the sound of the crowd she thought I said something about the music and just nodded and smiled. About ten seconds later, I collapsed, out cold.
I woke up to Katherine shaking me and calling my name and she helped me out of the middle of the crowd. I don't remember this. As we got to the edge of the crowd a young woman came up and said, "I'm a nurse. Are you diabetic?" I told her no, I'm hypoglycemic and she said to a staffer, "Get her juice!" They got me to a bar stool over on the edge of the crowd where I got myself a glass of water before passing out again. I couldn't stay conscious. At least this time I just passed out with my head on the bar. No more falling needed, thank you.
The nurse got me juice and within three gulps I was wide awake again. I was still really, really hot and sweaty all over and shaking and weak, but at least I was conscious again. Katherine was in awe how three gulps of juice could turn me around, but that's how we hyper-hypos are.
Needless to say, Katherine and I only stayed through the first set. I was still having trouble standing and didn't want to risk sticking around. We got back to Katherine and Andy's and decided it'd be good for me to simply stay there for the night and not attempt the 20 minute drive home.
So that was my holy $#@% night. It was humiliating to say the least, and I kept telling people, "I've only had one drink! I'm not drunk at all!" because people kept looking at me that way. I was sad to miss the show that I was so looking forward to, but I was also scared. I mean, it's not normal for one's body to do that.
I talked to my mom on my drive home today and she helped shine some light on it. Turns out I also have extremely low blood pressure (never knew this) and so that, coupled with the lack of protein in my dinner and high amount of carbs probably caused me to pass out. With the low blood pressure I need high amounts of oxygen, so being crammed into a room of people I can't breathe properly and my hypoglycemia needs high amounts of protein and simple sugars and what I had eaten had been lots of carbs and some complex sugars. All that with the fatigue of long work days and I was down for the count.
I took the day off of work to rest and try to get my body back in order. The last two times this has happened I ended up with concussions, so at least this time the only thing I hurt was my knees (from falling on them) and my pride.
Poor Katherine, she was such a good sport about it all. I felt so bad for her. I'm sure I scared her.
The moral of the story is if we're at an event and I suddenly grab your arm, it means something. Hold on to me and get me a chair and some juice and do it quickly. Hopefully this is the last time this happens, but I didn't know I felt bad until 20 seconds before I collapsed. Yup, I should wear a helmet everywhere I go.
One perc is that the juice that was given to me was actually stolen from Gillian Welch's personal stash. That was a sort of high point. I didn't get to see the rest of her show, but I did get her juice, dammit.
Hypoglycemia has to do with the regulation of insulin in the body; it's essentially the opposite of diabetes in that diabetics can't produce or absorb enough insulin and people like me produce or absorb too much. I have watched my diet in the past, but recently I've become more lax about it; I thought I was doing fine. Whoops.
Last night I went out to the Gillian Welch concert with my friend Katherine. We got there early and walked down the street to this great Indian restaurant and simply had a grand time. We were very, very full when we left. Got to the concert and staked out our little standing room in the middle of the room, about 6 "rows" from the front. The Orange Peel is a standing room only venue with bars along the side walls, like the 9:30 Club in DC only smaller. We grabbed small beers (one each) and slowly finished them over the hour before the show started. Gillian and David Rawlings came on stage, and it's another wonderful show by the duo. Standing that long is painful for me, but I'll endure it for the sake of a great live show, but last night my right shoulder and back were just KILLING me. I couldn't get comfortable. Then, about 5 songs in, it happened. It felt like these hot fingers were rising from my torso into my head, wrapping it's spindly fingers around my brain and taking all the blood from it. I got very, very hot and my vision blacked out. I grabbed Katherine's arm and said, "I'm having a reaction" but over the sound of the crowd she thought I said something about the music and just nodded and smiled. About ten seconds later, I collapsed, out cold.
I woke up to Katherine shaking me and calling my name and she helped me out of the middle of the crowd. I don't remember this. As we got to the edge of the crowd a young woman came up and said, "I'm a nurse. Are you diabetic?" I told her no, I'm hypoglycemic and she said to a staffer, "Get her juice!" They got me to a bar stool over on the edge of the crowd where I got myself a glass of water before passing out again. I couldn't stay conscious. At least this time I just passed out with my head on the bar. No more falling needed, thank you.
The nurse got me juice and within three gulps I was wide awake again. I was still really, really hot and sweaty all over and shaking and weak, but at least I was conscious again. Katherine was in awe how three gulps of juice could turn me around, but that's how we hyper-hypos are.
Needless to say, Katherine and I only stayed through the first set. I was still having trouble standing and didn't want to risk sticking around. We got back to Katherine and Andy's and decided it'd be good for me to simply stay there for the night and not attempt the 20 minute drive home.
So that was my holy $#@% night. It was humiliating to say the least, and I kept telling people, "I've only had one drink! I'm not drunk at all!" because people kept looking at me that way. I was sad to miss the show that I was so looking forward to, but I was also scared. I mean, it's not normal for one's body to do that.
I talked to my mom on my drive home today and she helped shine some light on it. Turns out I also have extremely low blood pressure (never knew this) and so that, coupled with the lack of protein in my dinner and high amount of carbs probably caused me to pass out. With the low blood pressure I need high amounts of oxygen, so being crammed into a room of people I can't breathe properly and my hypoglycemia needs high amounts of protein and simple sugars and what I had eaten had been lots of carbs and some complex sugars. All that with the fatigue of long work days and I was down for the count.
I took the day off of work to rest and try to get my body back in order. The last two times this has happened I ended up with concussions, so at least this time the only thing I hurt was my knees (from falling on them) and my pride.
Poor Katherine, she was such a good sport about it all. I felt so bad for her. I'm sure I scared her.
The moral of the story is if we're at an event and I suddenly grab your arm, it means something. Hold on to me and get me a chair and some juice and do it quickly. Hopefully this is the last time this happens, but I didn't know I felt bad until 20 seconds before I collapsed. Yup, I should wear a helmet everywhere I go.
One perc is that the juice that was given to me was actually stolen from Gillian Welch's personal stash. That was a sort of high point. I didn't get to see the rest of her show, but I did get her juice, dammit.
Hypoglycemia has to do with the regulation of insulin in the body; it's essentially the opposite of diabetes in that diabetics can't produce or absorb enough insulin and people like me produce or absorb too much. I have watched my diet in the past, but recently I've become more lax about it; I thought I was doing fine. Whoops.
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