I guess it seems pretty fitting that at 30, there's some significant health issue that brings new perspective into your life. I've been reminded of and reflected on so many important things this year, and one thing you should never take for granted is your health. I know many of us do though, unfortunately.
And I should know better. As a person who actually had weight loss surgery to live help myself live a healthier lifestyle, you would think that I would be more in tune with my body and totally clean. But I still love cheese and alcohol and days under a blanket with netflix. Getting up and going the gym will always be a challenge for me, as will be cutting out some of my favorite foods. I don't miss ice cream or brownies or tons of fried food and globs of red meat. No worries there. I've done and will continue to do everything I can to keep from getting diabetes and heart disease since I have them in my family history.
But I know I'm not as "good" as I should be. I have a Primanti's sandwich here and there. I have girls night, and I don't make the dip with fat free anything. I never say no to a good a beer or a dinner with friends. So I can't say that I was completely shocked when in the beginning of September, one of the most stressful times in my career and personal life, I didn't feel well. I was working at least 60 hours a week and my "free" time was taken up with more work and prior engagements. So I was definitely not sleeping or eating well. I noticed the day after labor day that I was feeling a bit "off". I chalked it up to overdoing the holiday weekend and moving in my new living room furniture. I upped my water intake and started concentrating heavily on eating a lot of fresh veggies to get vitamins and clean out leftover toxins.
On Wednesday, I thought I was experiencing a migraine. I get them occasionally, so I thought I could take a tylenol and wait it out as that's usually all I need. By Thursday, I was in excruciating pain. I had to take massive amounts of tylenol just to function and not to pass out from pain. Without it, every 5 or 30 seconds I was feeling a sharp pain, always in the same spot; base of my skull, behind my ear. I tried to joke that I now knew how Zeus felt giving birth to Athena. But it was worrying me. I never had a migraine like that before or for that long.
I started to worry about what it could possibly be if not a migraine. Maybe it was a tumor. Or maybe I was having a stroke. Maybe it was cancer. I had officially WebMD-ed myself and was convinced I was dying of any number of terminal illnesses or STDs even. I was terrified to even call the doctor and terrified that I was taking so much tylenol that I would go into liver failure and not wake up.
On Monday I called my doctor and they agreed to take me as a walk in that same morning. My doctor diagnosed me with a cluster or icepick migraine do to muscle strain and stress. The prescribed me a low dose of prednisone for the inflammation and a migraine medication. They checked all my vitals and mentioned that my throat was a little raw and we attributed it to post-nasal drip and seasonal allergies. I was not 100% convinced that it could be that simple of a diagnosis, and I was still taking some additional tylenol with the meds for the first few days.
By the time I was nearly done with that round of medicine, I felt tons better, hardly any pain at all and I was no longer taking tylenol. But my throat was REALLY sore. Something told me to look in the bathroom mirror. My tonsils were nearly the size of ping pong balls and covered in white patches. Time to call the doctor's office AGAIN.
I should probably mention here that I hate going to the doctor. I was scarred from childhood and a lifetime of being overweight. It seriously took my until I turned 20 just to be able to get shot or give blood without having to be held down. So, as and adult, I learned to approach a healthy lifestyle and use diet to prevent and treat illnesses, which worked pretty well. I rarely needed medicine, even over the counter stuff. Even my migraines were rare and totally manageable. So I called the doctor, and played on the fact that I had just been in there the week prior and my symptoms had been observed, now they were worse. They finally agreed to call in a prescription for me, a strong antibiotic that I was on a time or two before.
I start the next round of medicine, and within 24 hours, I have a rash. It started small, faint and barely itchy on my arms. By lunchtime, it's all over my neck, chest, face and back. It's starting to swell. I know I have to call the doctor's office, but just to be sure, I see the nurse. She confirms my worst fears and gives two benadryl. The doctor's office wants to see me this time. No calling in a scrip. I begrudgingly agree and set another walk in appointment for 10:30 the following morning. That night, I take pictures of my arms and chest. I believed that since I stopped taking my anti-biotic, the rash might be gone by the morning.
Not so. I wake up and the rash is all over my body, inflamed and much darker. I get so nervous, I call my mother on the way to to hospital (where my doctor is conveniently located). I seriously consider begging her to come with me. I was so scared that they would admit me after seeing not only my rash, but also the fact that my throat was no better. I had no clue what was wrong with me, and all I can think about is how the person who never gets sick has been in and out of the doctors for the past 2 and a half weeks. At the office they joke about how I must be getting sick of being there, little do they know how right they are and how miserable I am physically and mentally. She expresses great concern over my tonsils, as they are so swollen that she can't even see around them; they could be abscessed and/or need to come out. She gives me the name of an ear, nose, and throat specialist. I decide to myself that I will call him, but unless I need to, I will not call until after Molly's wedding.
They give me another prednisone pack and z-pak since now I'm allergic to ceftin; they have reason to believe that I'm allergic to all "cillins". She tells me I can take an anti-histamine. I choose allegra on Molly's advice and the fact that allegra has the highest dose I can find at Walgreens.
I give this until Tuesday. The z-pak finally clears up my tonsils, thank goodness. I'll call Dr. Straka - after the wedding. But my rash is getting steadily worse. It has vacated my face and neck, but the rest of me is a mess. I call the doctor again. The NP agrees to put me on a higher dose of prednisone as well as an anti-itch pill. I feel helpless, I'm begging her, "I have a wedding on saturday..." I trail off. She agrees to pull some strings so I can see an NP at a dermatologist's office near my office.
The dermatologist's office calls me within 10 minutes. I take an appointment at 9am the next day. Unfortunately, and a $25 copay later, I find out that there's not much to be done. Ceftin is a strong anti-biotic that will not leave my bloodstream anytime soon. Time is the real cure. She writes me a prescription for a topical steroid cream and tells me to triple my antihistamine intake. She can't promise me that I'll be any less red or puffy for the wedding.
It's been 24 hours and I feel much better, I'm not sure how I'll look this weekend, but I do feel a lot less anxious. Especially when I think about how I felt 2 or 3 weeks ago, and all the things that ran through my mind, I realize that I'm really not 22 or 25 anymore. It's really important not to neglect getting the proper amount of rest, exercise, water, vitamins. I lost 3-4 weeks of my life suffering from all kinds of ailments and worry and trying to make up for lost sleep, and putting chemical medicines in my body. I don't want that to be a theme in my life. Definitely a wake up call I needed, though.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Friday, September 20, 2013
My Best Friend's Wedding(s)
It's no secret that a large part of my 30th year has revolved around my own dating mishaps, and the successes of my friends' and their wedding celebrations. Which forces me to continue reflect on what I want, what I'm looking for, what I'm doing wrong. I celebrated my last wedding shower of the year on Sunday and this Saturday is another wedding.
If you had asked me 10 years ago what my romantic life would be like at 30, I would've been wrong in so many ways. I probably would've said something about being married, working on my own little hockey team. I even recall telling one of my best friends that I just wanted to marry a guy who maybe loved me a little bit more than I did him; because then he'd never leave me, and I was sure that would be enough. I didn't really care about anything else, including my own happiness. Disgusting, I know.
At 20, I wasn't worried about my number of sexual partners, what men wanted from me, whether or not they were lying, and I certainly never thought that I'd be 30 and still single. At 20, I was desperate to be a "grown up", and play out what I thought my image of love and marriage was. Even now as a more jaded, experienced version of myself, I thank God that I didn't marry the first man who looked my way. I am infinitely so different from who I was. If 20 year-old me had made such a life altering decision, 30 year-old me would be at best, amicably divorced. At worst, miserable with my potential progeny.
Sometimes, I long for those simpler times though. Now, I feel like I have to wade through the millions of men from ages 27-40 who may or may not have past marriages (ok), children(ok), mommy issues, fidelity issues, insecurity issues, commitment issues, chemical dependancies (past or present), and the list goes on and on. My two most common scenarios lately are this:
1. Guy leads you on for weeks. Even months. Tells you everything you want to hear. Looking for the one, babies, traveling, all that shit. Best case scenario, you have no chemistry and wish each other the best of luck. Worst case scenario you keep seeing each other, but you notice that you're not even going out together in public anymore (or to begin with). I tend to break these off as soon as I see the pattern, because I've obviously sent the wrong message about the level of commitment and relationship I'm looking for, I'm not giving it away for free.
2. Talk to a guy for a few weeks and he disappears without a trace. You know it's because he's chosen someone over you, which hey, aren't we all looking for someone? No hard feelings. But he doesn't even have the guts to tell you, which is immature and I consider a dodged bullet.
Oh, and everyone who just wants to get laid? Just wait till you're 30, okay? I don't know if it has to do with how comfortable you get with yourself at 30, hormones, pheremones, biology, what, but if all I wanted to do was have sex, I could. 7 nights a week, with 7 different partners. I'm not trying to be crude, because I still certainly don't understand why anyone would actually want to sleep with me, but there seems as though there's no lack of people willing to take it that far; just not willing to have a relationship. Unfortunately for me, but my mama would be so proud, that's not how I play the game. I want to be courted and eventually committed. So, I've had to learn that there is a reason why the best advice is still to keep your clothes on no matter what he, your hormones, or your gut is telling you. So much for being a liberated female and there "being no rules."
Listen - Somewhere, deep down inside, I know I'm a catch. I'm certainly not without my faults. I can have a bad temper, I'm not as pretty as a movie star, I'll never be rich. I'm stubborn and defensive, and I hate being wrong. Traffic makes me absolutely insane. But I'm kind, I'm funny, educated, open-minded. I enjoy sports as much as I enjoy my girl time, so I'll never nag a guy about "watching the game" or hanging out with his friends. I like good beer, I can carry a tune, and I can cook like no one's business. I'm an excellent communicator and I think I'd make a great mother. I'm pretty classy, at least when it counts. In other words; I think I'm a keeper. I want someone to wife the shit out of me. But it seems like at 30, and in the world of instant gratification that we live in, single men aren't looking for, or are too scared to actually invest in a relationship, so there is a disconnect.
I've gotten the there's no chemistry comment after one date before. One date? When I'm nervous enough to even be sitting across from you at a strange restaurant, pushing my salad around my plate, trying to eat even when I'm not hungry so you you won't think I'm being prissy or uninterested? And I'm trying not to curse and I want to be funny and engaging and ask you all the right questions? Likewise, I've had guys want to talk about sex almost immediately. At first it's flattering, because who doesn't want to be desired? But really, you want to talk about that right away? And for the love of God, why do they ask me if my students want to sleep with me? So creepy and inappropriate and NOT a turn on. I've also had guys who have encouraged (more like demanded of) me to have no contact with any other males (including 100% platonic male friends), only to break it off after a few weeks. It all leaves me feeling very unworthy of love. It has nothing to do with feeling pretty or beautiful or smart or desired. I can be told and I feel all of those things. And don't even get me started on musicians. Any way you look at it, the message I end up receiving is that my worth lies solely in my looks and body and what it can or cannot do for a man.
Sometimes I wonder if there was some sweet spot in my mid-to-late twenties that I should have been aware of, and I missed the final departure. I can't imagine myself with man much younger than myself, but what I've observed in the single men my own age and slightly older is two things. 1. They have no intentions of settling down, or if and when they're finally ready, they'll be seeking someone younger and hotter than me. 2. They have run the the same gamut as me (or worse) and the world has affected them too much to where they aren't in a situation to seek a relationship. Sometimes, they can be both.
Now, every other week, I notice a new wrinkle in my forehead, how deep and dark my under eye circles (so common on my Eastern European side) have become, my crow's feet. All things that I don't associate with a happy bride or a new mother. And God knows that I try, but my dress size never will be below double digits. And a part of me tries to let go. Let go of the anxiety and disappointment I feel, let go of the life I had always wanted and assumed I would have. But it's hard to let go, because I don't know what else to hold on to. At 30, dating has lost it's fun, it's excitement. It's become an endless game of "kill, marry, or "screw" that I can't seem to win.
As I said to a friend very recently, it's not that I'm unhappy or lonely. I have a great life, and I have the most amazing friends and family I could possibly imagine. Seriously, they are the coolest. I myself, am not sad as a person. I do and go where I want. And I'm certainly very happy for my friends and the wonderful partners they have in their lives. I would much rather be celebrating the happiness of my friends than being sad for myself anyway, so when those happy days do come around, I'm never sad for myself, I'm enjoying the company of my friends and wishing them a lifetime of happiness, as ever. I won't be that single bridesmaid moping in the corner, mascara running down her cheeks. Well, I might shed a tear or two, but only out of pure joy and sentiment.
If you had asked me 10 years ago what my romantic life would be like at 30, I would've been wrong in so many ways. I probably would've said something about being married, working on my own little hockey team. I even recall telling one of my best friends that I just wanted to marry a guy who maybe loved me a little bit more than I did him; because then he'd never leave me, and I was sure that would be enough. I didn't really care about anything else, including my own happiness. Disgusting, I know.
At 20, I wasn't worried about my number of sexual partners, what men wanted from me, whether or not they were lying, and I certainly never thought that I'd be 30 and still single. At 20, I was desperate to be a "grown up", and play out what I thought my image of love and marriage was. Even now as a more jaded, experienced version of myself, I thank God that I didn't marry the first man who looked my way. I am infinitely so different from who I was. If 20 year-old me had made such a life altering decision, 30 year-old me would be at best, amicably divorced. At worst, miserable with my potential progeny.
Sometimes, I long for those simpler times though. Now, I feel like I have to wade through the millions of men from ages 27-40 who may or may not have past marriages (ok), children(ok), mommy issues, fidelity issues, insecurity issues, commitment issues, chemical dependancies (past or present), and the list goes on and on. My two most common scenarios lately are this:
1. Guy leads you on for weeks. Even months. Tells you everything you want to hear. Looking for the one, babies, traveling, all that shit. Best case scenario, you have no chemistry and wish each other the best of luck. Worst case scenario you keep seeing each other, but you notice that you're not even going out together in public anymore (or to begin with). I tend to break these off as soon as I see the pattern, because I've obviously sent the wrong message about the level of commitment and relationship I'm looking for, I'm not giving it away for free.
2. Talk to a guy for a few weeks and he disappears without a trace. You know it's because he's chosen someone over you, which hey, aren't we all looking for someone? No hard feelings. But he doesn't even have the guts to tell you, which is immature and I consider a dodged bullet.
Oh, and everyone who just wants to get laid? Just wait till you're 30, okay? I don't know if it has to do with how comfortable you get with yourself at 30, hormones, pheremones, biology, what, but if all I wanted to do was have sex, I could. 7 nights a week, with 7 different partners. I'm not trying to be crude, because I still certainly don't understand why anyone would actually want to sleep with me, but there seems as though there's no lack of people willing to take it that far; just not willing to have a relationship. Unfortunately for me, but my mama would be so proud, that's not how I play the game. I want to be courted and eventually committed. So, I've had to learn that there is a reason why the best advice is still to keep your clothes on no matter what he, your hormones, or your gut is telling you. So much for being a liberated female and there "being no rules."
Listen - Somewhere, deep down inside, I know I'm a catch. I'm certainly not without my faults. I can have a bad temper, I'm not as pretty as a movie star, I'll never be rich. I'm stubborn and defensive, and I hate being wrong. Traffic makes me absolutely insane. But I'm kind, I'm funny, educated, open-minded. I enjoy sports as much as I enjoy my girl time, so I'll never nag a guy about "watching the game" or hanging out with his friends. I like good beer, I can carry a tune, and I can cook like no one's business. I'm an excellent communicator and I think I'd make a great mother. I'm pretty classy, at least when it counts. In other words; I think I'm a keeper. I want someone to wife the shit out of me. But it seems like at 30, and in the world of instant gratification that we live in, single men aren't looking for, or are too scared to actually invest in a relationship, so there is a disconnect.
I've gotten the there's no chemistry comment after one date before. One date? When I'm nervous enough to even be sitting across from you at a strange restaurant, pushing my salad around my plate, trying to eat even when I'm not hungry so you you won't think I'm being prissy or uninterested? And I'm trying not to curse and I want to be funny and engaging and ask you all the right questions? Likewise, I've had guys want to talk about sex almost immediately. At first it's flattering, because who doesn't want to be desired? But really, you want to talk about that right away? And for the love of God, why do they ask me if my students want to sleep with me? So creepy and inappropriate and NOT a turn on. I've also had guys who have encouraged (more like demanded of) me to have no contact with any other males (including 100% platonic male friends), only to break it off after a few weeks. It all leaves me feeling very unworthy of love. It has nothing to do with feeling pretty or beautiful or smart or desired. I can be told and I feel all of those things. And don't even get me started on musicians. Any way you look at it, the message I end up receiving is that my worth lies solely in my looks and body and what it can or cannot do for a man.
Sometimes I wonder if there was some sweet spot in my mid-to-late twenties that I should have been aware of, and I missed the final departure. I can't imagine myself with man much younger than myself, but what I've observed in the single men my own age and slightly older is two things. 1. They have no intentions of settling down, or if and when they're finally ready, they'll be seeking someone younger and hotter than me. 2. They have run the the same gamut as me (or worse) and the world has affected them too much to where they aren't in a situation to seek a relationship. Sometimes, they can be both.
Now, every other week, I notice a new wrinkle in my forehead, how deep and dark my under eye circles (so common on my Eastern European side) have become, my crow's feet. All things that I don't associate with a happy bride or a new mother. And God knows that I try, but my dress size never will be below double digits. And a part of me tries to let go. Let go of the anxiety and disappointment I feel, let go of the life I had always wanted and assumed I would have. But it's hard to let go, because I don't know what else to hold on to. At 30, dating has lost it's fun, it's excitement. It's become an endless game of "kill, marry, or "screw" that I can't seem to win.
As I said to a friend very recently, it's not that I'm unhappy or lonely. I have a great life, and I have the most amazing friends and family I could possibly imagine. Seriously, they are the coolest. I myself, am not sad as a person. I do and go where I want. And I'm certainly very happy for my friends and the wonderful partners they have in their lives. I would much rather be celebrating the happiness of my friends than being sad for myself anyway, so when those happy days do come around, I'm never sad for myself, I'm enjoying the company of my friends and wishing them a lifetime of happiness, as ever. I won't be that single bridesmaid moping in the corner, mascara running down her cheeks. Well, I might shed a tear or two, but only out of pure joy and sentiment.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)