Man. Is this the year that I FALL APART COMPLETELY?
Let us recapitulate the highlights of late, shall we?
1. There is the as-yet-not-completely-diagnosed heart thing, which now has added to it frequent moments of lightheadedness that my doctor's nurse says is "just me getting used to the medications," and some never-before-experienced shortness of breath and a pain in my abdomen just under my ribs, when doing the only thing I am allowing myself to do for exercise -- walk. The folks in my gym are acting like the freaking exercise police and won't let me do more than walk. I got pulled off the rowing machine by my wonderful friend Cindy the Wonder Therapist one day last week. Cripes. I guess nobody wants to have to pick me up off the floor and throw me in the ambulance. It would be rather disruptive, I guess. But, I told her, the hospital discharged me, telling me to "continue normal activities." She gave me a rather acerbic glare and made me go to the treadmill and do "gentle walking." This, from a Brazilian jiu jitsu black belt. Sheesh. She empathized with my groans, "But it's so borrrrrrinnnnnnnng," but still.
2. Just before the heart thing happened, I was diagnosed with the narrow-angle glaucoma. Well, not glaucoma really, until and unless an attack happens, and we hope it doesn't reach that point. And this was no big surprise, as my optometrist had been watching this condition closely for about the last three or four years. We are doing the prophylactic laser surgery for that, as I think I mentioned a few posts ago. We did one eye last week, and the other is scheduled for late Monday ("today," probably, by the time you read this. Or maybe "yesterday.")
Well, everything is good with the first eye we did, except when I'm wearing my contact lenses. Every time I blink, I get a line that follows my eyelid down and up. At first I thought it was fluid in my eye that needed to drain out, probably an after-effect of the laser surgery. I thought it would go away in another day or so, or at least I hoped so. But it hasn't. I have narrowed it down to happening only when I wear my contacts, and believe it or not the iris in that eye looks larger than it did before, and larger than the other one, so it appears that now my eyeball is perhaps a different size -- probably as a result of pressure relief from the surgery. In truth, maybe it's not the iris that is larger, but the sclera is smaller. Who knows.
At any rate, now I guess the contact lens does not fit right, and that is what is causing the weird line, like a fishbowl effect, up and down every time I blink. It doesn't happen with my glasses, so it's got to be the contact. Great, so now I guess I have to go in to my optometrist's office and get re-refracted and/or resized for my lenses. I am ecstatic about this, because I haven't had quite enough doctor's appointments lately.
3. Let's see. What else. Oh, yes. My legs and arms have been feeling like lead while exercising. LIKE SOLID LEAD. And yesterday while on the elliptical machine -- OK, so I lied. I don't ONLY walk. When the exercise police in the gym are not watching, I use the elliptical machine at times, too. But I consider that walking, unless I'm doing the thing I used to do before all this fun stuff started -- that is, using the Tabata Protocol while on it. I hope it is needless to say that no, I am not doing Tabata at all these days. I'm not totally stupid. -- But yesterday while on the elliptical machine, I felt like I was going to topple over, and I felt tingling up my inner thighs. And not in the good way.
So I stopped and did my stretches and then left the gym.
4. I think it's due to the medications I'm taking, but my usual voracious appetite is way, way down. I am forcing myself to eat 1200 calories a day. Well, this is funny, because before all this started, I was TRYING to diet at 1200 calories a day, and I was starving all the time. Now I'm forcing it down -- in a formula of as close to 30 grams of fiber I can get a day, as low-fat and low-cholesterol as I can get, and with at least 60 grams of protein. This is not an easy feat. And at this rate, you'd think the weight would be positively FALLING off me. But no. I have lost zero weight. So what the hell is going on here?
I am just about fit to be tied.
As I was being discharged from the hospital, the very nice hospitalist asked me, "What medications are you on now?"
He rolled his eyes upward and made a very dramatic gesture. "Oh, boy. I know what you're going to do. You're going to go home and read the internet and you're going to stop taking your medications! Please don't do that!"
"Oh, no. I won't. I'm a good patient."
"You've never BEEN a patient! How do you know?!"