Time to do something

I really hate boxing myself into a corner like this.I’ve whined and cries like a baby and guess how far I’ve gotten. Well, you know… Answers to important questions will be forthcoming. A couple of phone calls will start it. One to the sleep lab, who I’ve not heard from in two or three weeks, for one. It’s time for progress.I went through one night and I’m ready to get on with the rest of it. Time to get some sleep! The second phone call is the big one.

First, the surgeon who did the colectomy hardly touched me during my visits to him. He didn’t examine me once before the surgery which bothered me somewhat but..What, I trusted him? Okay so he did the surgery and again, afterward still didn’t examine me… This time, because no doctor here where I live wants to touch me, I will insist on him seeing me or know why. I am having increased pain and with an abnormal CT, I have to have someone to be on my side. My pcp sent his notes and copy of the scan to the surgeon over a week ago. You’d think a person would hear something by now.

After those pieces of business are over, I believe that I am going to look into going back to school for my masters degree. A masters in business should make it somewhat easier to find a job. Although that’s what I thought about when I got my bachelor’s…

That should make for a full day of frustration and madness, so after, I think that M and I will go fishing in the afternoon. I am having bowel troubles but I can always take some loperamine before we go and wear a pad just in case.I mention this because I believe that people should be upfront with what is going on in their lives especially things that cause impact on us.

I may not like answers that I get tomorrow, but I will have answers of some sort when I’m through. It takes a lot these days to get me started nut now is the time.


My first medical scare.

I remember when i was 22 years old and I was just out of the Air Force. Things were good for me as I had a decent, but stressful job working at a convenience store. The pay was good and I was able to afford a new motorcycle plus I had moved into a two bedroom farm house that sat on 10 acres. It was a pretty place and had potential and i had signed a contract for deed on it.

Things turned ugly the morning that i woke up and was getting ready for work. After showing and breakfast I went to the bathroom and that’s when i discovered the blood. It scared me badly so i made an appointment to see my doctor. After he examined me, I remember him telling me that i needed to go to the hospital. I was in shock. The day had been bright and sunny, how could this have happened? There was no other signs that anything was wrong. No pain or discomfort other than occasional indigestion.

I called into work and I don’t remember exactly i said, something about having to go to the hospital and left it at that, I think. Anyway I grabbed a few things from home and went and checked into the hospital. After the usual amount of paperwork, I was to a taken to room and I exchanged my street clothes for a hospital gown. Right away they put me on a liquid diet. For supper I got broth and a cocktail of orange juice and mineral oil.  The next morning i was awakened for my first ever, cleansing enema.

They didn’t waste time then, several tests were scheduled, the first of many was an endoscope.  My doctor started am intravenous line and gave me something that made me sleepy but i could still hear and feel everthing. First I gargled with a liquid that numbed my throat. Then after it started working, I swallowed the end of the scope. As the scope went down he would introduce some air and I remember belching from time to time. Finally he made it into my stomach and started to look around. Then he stopped. He asked me if I wanted to see something cool, so he bent the scope around and let me see two small lesions. Ulcers. But they weren’t bleeding and after the test he came to my room and told me he’d have to look else where.

The next day, brought and early, i underwent a pulmonary test of some sort that measured my lung capacity. I thought it strange at the time but back I realize that they were prepping me for surgery. That same day I had my first colonoscopy. Again, i was given anesthesia. They had me lie on my left side. Then he put the scope in and after what seemed like a long time,he said he was at my cecum. On the way out I remember him telling the nurse to open and close the snare. I counted 8 or 9 times. Each time he excised a polyp,it took a whole new day to get the results. ..no cancer.

After that i was go given a regular diet and after a sigmoidoscopy to check for bleeding,  i was finally released. This was the first of three scares that I endured over the next five years.

My state of mind

Of all of the real problems that I have had in my life, there lingers an invisible illness that I’ve not openly addressed before, hypochondria. From an really age I’ve had the desire to be sick, fortunately this has not been true. I don’t mean like malrotation or colonic inertia. I mean something terminal. I know how this sounds bad and, yes I see a therapist. Plus I am not suicidal. I’m not sure where this desire originates but it has been persistent, sneaking is way into my thoughts periodically.

Through the years there have many times that I wished non existence, the wish I’d never been born. One therapist suggested it was tied to abuse that I suffered as a child. I used to deny this but evidence presented to me in the form of things that I said in therapy have led me to see the truth in this concept. Abuse, or rather the reaction to it, is a powerful thing. It shapes the mind and thoughts in a kind of defensive mode. While this could be an aha moment to outsiders looking in, such an apifany eludes my grasp.

As to the abuse, while there was physical abuse, there was psychological plus some form of sexual abuse may have been present as well. I say “may have been” because evidence of it is subtle and indirect as I have no direct memory of it, just lingering feelings and behavior that suggests. The brain is awesome in its ability protect our consciousness from trauma that otherwise might render us handicapped.

Trying now to get a resolution to these conflicted thoughts gets much tougher as I age because parents and participants are dying or dead by now but I suspect the traumatic abuse came from early on, in my preteen years, although psychological abuse was life long, at the hands of my father.

It wasn’t as if there were no good times.  Certainly I remember fishing trips, and other things I enjoyed doing with him but my father had a dark side that had a way of coming out, usually to tell me that I was inadequate and although I am heterosexual, that I was homosexual which to his homophobic mind was one of the lowest levels of hell that he could wish on someone. I was never to confront him with any of this as he is now dead. He died of cancer and old age at 86 years of age.

I have worked hard to not be like my father in his abusive patterns in my own life but much of what we know is learned by our interactions. My wife of 32 years has been the object of my abuse over the years. Despite my vigilance, i find myself yelling and badgering her. I despise myself for this and the weakness that allows it to lash out at her. It amazes me that she has stayed with me for so long.

Bipolar, or more?

I think of myself as a nice guy most of the time. There are times though that my thoughts toward wanting to say nasty things to people who annoy me. These impulses are getting strong enough I’m afraid that i will actually say something someday. If that happens, I’ll lose my job and won’t be able to sleep at night for a time. .

My question then is this: Is this part of bipolar disorder or could it be something more? Quite a question to be answered

Bi polar

Depression is not my friend. I’m suddenly on a downward rocket sled to no where. I’m getting temperamental and short with people who don’t deserve it and hate myself for it. Keeping my mouth shut is seemingly impossible. If I pull through this ill have to be sorry for weeks, rather ill be sorry for weeks.

I’ve made some unnecessary purchases. I won’t have to live in the street because if it but i might have given it a bit more thought. Oh, wait. Thinking is what led me to doing it. This seems to be a trend for me. This emotional roller coaster ride. I know that is what being bipolar is. ..the roller coaster.


No one on earth knows better than I how incredibly gauche that I can be. My often untimely statements, questions and etc come from a scattered mind and does not reflect my true feelings except for feelings of inadequacy. It makes it difficult to engage in friendly banter as my scatter brain gets all excited and my mouth mucks the works. Sorry about that, sincerely.

The challenge

Living this life is sometimes a challenge, sometimes a nightmare. And it can switch back and forth from one day to the next. This is the life of bipolar disorder. I don’t like it much because even I’m medicated and “under control” life can go sideways and I’m out of control. ..just like that.

So is life with invisible illnesses. One said before that the difference between “sick” people and normals is that normals won’t take the tests. But, for sure, once diagnosed life is never normal again. One might then that a dx would be the path to treatment but often this isn’t the case because politics come into play.

Politics dictate that one must be a certain level of sickness or must be certifiable. In other words, unless you are puking blood there will be lots of hoops to jump through in order to get help. I like politicians who talk about helping people in need. It’s probably true. You just have to prove that you’re in need.