Backstroke
If you've not read about my crazy week I suggest you go here and then return. I can tell by the high number of shares that Rachel Coleman's fans, the ladies that love Jinger and Fundytown are all talking. Good. Gives them something to do for today. Everyone deserves to be amused.
Yes, yes, I had a mini stroke.
The funny of it all is that I just do not take myself as seriously as others have. Example? Monday morn, right in the middle of this ridiculous crisis that I was initially refusing to accept was a crisis a handsome young man stood over my prone almost naked body. He held an industrial sized jar of KY Jelly, dabbling it here and there while I laughed and thought too bad he's just attaching EKG electrodes. This was not the scenario I ever imagined with a handsome guy and KY Jelly.
I felt fine before, during and after the stroke. Now I don't feel so fine at all. The medications are screwing with me horribly. How horribly? Well I am out here eating sugar free yogurt and a salt free rice cake for dinner while Jim's in the house tucking into a New York strip steak and steamed veggies,.. and salad.. and rolls. I'm not forbidden from eating those foods, in fact I made sure I cooked super healthy, no salt, plentious veggies and those cracked wheat whole wheat rolls I make. It's just the moment I started grilling the steaks my stomach started doing some very queasy barrel rolls inside my torso.
Since they started the meds I've been barely able to eat, and sometimes cannot hold much down. Which made our bus trip back from San Jose, erm, 'interesting' Imagine a five hour bus ride with nausea and random dry heaving into a plastic bag.
I was also pretty upset. The hospital demanded a nearly 5K deposit last night before they would release me, which I found out today was not supposed to happen since our insurance has a catastrophic illness clause that is picking up the hospital bill fully.
Jim chose the second we were sitting in the bus station to hostilely question me over if he was adding to my stress levels. Like that is not going to add to my stress levels?
I told him truthfully that he was before melting down in tears. Hostile words exchanged about the huge hospital bill. I knew it was wrong, but had to wait until this morning to verify that with the insurance company. I was released too late in the day to call the U.S. to ask.
Why is it that men always seem to chose the exact wrong moment to have those big discussions? Nothing he could have said would have been appropriate in that moment as I felt beat up. How beat up? My arms are a hot mess from the vein hunt by the nurse to insert the IV, plus the five zillion automatic blood pressure tests bruising up my arms. It got so bad that during that first night they had to switch the blood pressure cuff to my foot to get a reading and not bruise me any longer. Are not bleeding disorders a barrel of fun?? I had no idea you can get a blood pressure reading from a foot or leg, but you can.
I cannot blame him however. It seems like I've spent my entire life fending off men doing stupid things like suddenly stammering out "I have always loved you!" at the exact moment I am freaking out over something at work. Or other inappropriate inanities at exactly the wrong moment while I have my "Are you mentally deranged??" glare going on.
One thing did go very right in last night's ride home. Jim had made sure to call and schedule a taxi for the rest of the way home. Because we were leaving so late last night we were only able to take the bus as far as Santa Cruz. about forty minutes from Tamarindo.
We also found out that the banks here shut down their ATM around ten pm to hold down on robberies, which meant it took every penny both of us had to pay the cabby. But it was a pleasant ride, we talked to the driver and his sweet teenage daughter.
Once we got home, got in the security gate and hit the front door it was obvious something very bad had happened. Stinky was at the glass door wailing, it wasn't the usual 'How dare you leave me alone for three whole days with a big bowl of food and a clean litter box!' and more 'OMG I AM SO CONFUSED AND FREAKED OUttttttttt!!!!!!!!!' Opened the door, he shot out and water flowed out.
The pipe that pumps fresh water into our toilet tank ruptured and the entire house with the exception of our master suite was a good inch deep in water. And I've just been told by the neurologist to keep calm? From about midnight to nearly 2 am we shop vacced, swept and mopped water out of the house. It finally dawned on me I was not doing my stroked out self any favors so I went to bed, leaving the rest for Jim. He's gotten much of it out, but will have to finish tomorrow morn, while I have to throw out all my crocheting yarn, a tv, and assorted other things that got drenched and will never be right again.
We will have to replace most of the furniture, which I'm not upset about, I'm pretty happy about that as it was mostly worn out leftovers left by the previous owners. No bad thing happens that does not have a good result somewhere.
Today was all follow ups with the doctor, getting additional meds to try and kill my med side effects and going to the grocery store to get things I now need I didn't before, like an industrial sized vat of Mrs. Dash. I'm about to pop the first of the anti nausea drugs and hop into the bed to read. My vision is back.
Tomorrow we will be at the custom furniture place to start the task of refurnishing the house.
I did discover one thing out of this. I think it wasn't helped by the fact I'd been eating Keto for three weeks and downing a lot of fermented (and highly salted) foods. Yep, I may have seriously exacerbated this stroke by the way I was eating. Apparently the diet is hard on the kidneys, which in turn control the blood pressure. Which might explain how I suddenly have high blood pressure after 58 years of low blood pressure issues.
I did freak out the poor little physician's assistent at my doctor's office. My oxygen levels are bouncing around too. They had to put me on oxygen the entire time I was in the hospital. The girl kept muttering there was something wrong with the O2 stat measuring device. I had to point out it's just my crappy lungs again.
Yes, yes, I had a mini stroke.
The funny of it all is that I just do not take myself as seriously as others have. Example? Monday morn, right in the middle of this ridiculous crisis that I was initially refusing to accept was a crisis a handsome young man stood over my prone almost naked body. He held an industrial sized jar of KY Jelly, dabbling it here and there while I laughed and thought too bad he's just attaching EKG electrodes. This was not the scenario I ever imagined with a handsome guy and KY Jelly.
I felt fine before, during and after the stroke. Now I don't feel so fine at all. The medications are screwing with me horribly. How horribly? Well I am out here eating sugar free yogurt and a salt free rice cake for dinner while Jim's in the house tucking into a New York strip steak and steamed veggies,.. and salad.. and rolls. I'm not forbidden from eating those foods, in fact I made sure I cooked super healthy, no salt, plentious veggies and those cracked wheat whole wheat rolls I make. It's just the moment I started grilling the steaks my stomach started doing some very queasy barrel rolls inside my torso.
Since they started the meds I've been barely able to eat, and sometimes cannot hold much down. Which made our bus trip back from San Jose, erm, 'interesting' Imagine a five hour bus ride with nausea and random dry heaving into a plastic bag.
I was also pretty upset. The hospital demanded a nearly 5K deposit last night before they would release me, which I found out today was not supposed to happen since our insurance has a catastrophic illness clause that is picking up the hospital bill fully.
Jim chose the second we were sitting in the bus station to hostilely question me over if he was adding to my stress levels. Like that is not going to add to my stress levels?
I told him truthfully that he was before melting down in tears. Hostile words exchanged about the huge hospital bill. I knew it was wrong, but had to wait until this morning to verify that with the insurance company. I was released too late in the day to call the U.S. to ask.
Why is it that men always seem to chose the exact wrong moment to have those big discussions? Nothing he could have said would have been appropriate in that moment as I felt beat up. How beat up? My arms are a hot mess from the vein hunt by the nurse to insert the IV, plus the five zillion automatic blood pressure tests bruising up my arms. It got so bad that during that first night they had to switch the blood pressure cuff to my foot to get a reading and not bruise me any longer. Are not bleeding disorders a barrel of fun?? I had no idea you can get a blood pressure reading from a foot or leg, but you can.
I cannot blame him however. It seems like I've spent my entire life fending off men doing stupid things like suddenly stammering out "I have always loved you!" at the exact moment I am freaking out over something at work. Or other inappropriate inanities at exactly the wrong moment while I have my "Are you mentally deranged??" glare going on.
One thing did go very right in last night's ride home. Jim had made sure to call and schedule a taxi for the rest of the way home. Because we were leaving so late last night we were only able to take the bus as far as Santa Cruz. about forty minutes from Tamarindo.
We also found out that the banks here shut down their ATM around ten pm to hold down on robberies, which meant it took every penny both of us had to pay the cabby. But it was a pleasant ride, we talked to the driver and his sweet teenage daughter.
Once we got home, got in the security gate and hit the front door it was obvious something very bad had happened. Stinky was at the glass door wailing, it wasn't the usual 'How dare you leave me alone for three whole days with a big bowl of food and a clean litter box!' and more 'OMG I AM SO CONFUSED AND FREAKED OUttttttttt!!!!!!!!!' Opened the door, he shot out and water flowed out.
The pipe that pumps fresh water into our toilet tank ruptured and the entire house with the exception of our master suite was a good inch deep in water. And I've just been told by the neurologist to keep calm? From about midnight to nearly 2 am we shop vacced, swept and mopped water out of the house. It finally dawned on me I was not doing my stroked out self any favors so I went to bed, leaving the rest for Jim. He's gotten much of it out, but will have to finish tomorrow morn, while I have to throw out all my crocheting yarn, a tv, and assorted other things that got drenched and will never be right again.
We will have to replace most of the furniture, which I'm not upset about, I'm pretty happy about that as it was mostly worn out leftovers left by the previous owners. No bad thing happens that does not have a good result somewhere.
Today was all follow ups with the doctor, getting additional meds to try and kill my med side effects and going to the grocery store to get things I now need I didn't before, like an industrial sized vat of Mrs. Dash. I'm about to pop the first of the anti nausea drugs and hop into the bed to read. My vision is back.
Tomorrow we will be at the custom furniture place to start the task of refurnishing the house.
I did discover one thing out of this. I think it wasn't helped by the fact I'd been eating Keto for three weeks and downing a lot of fermented (and highly salted) foods. Yep, I may have seriously exacerbated this stroke by the way I was eating. Apparently the diet is hard on the kidneys, which in turn control the blood pressure. Which might explain how I suddenly have high blood pressure after 58 years of low blood pressure issues.
I did freak out the poor little physician's assistent at my doctor's office. My oxygen levels are bouncing around too. They had to put me on oxygen the entire time I was in the hospital. The girl kept muttering there was something wrong with the O2 stat measuring device. I had to point out it's just my crappy lungs again.
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