| My "good looking" head |
[Apr. 8th, 2009|02:20 pm] |
At this point, the good news is my brain MRI has confirmed what I suspected all along: my brain is normal and healthy. My neurologist declared the "films" as showing a "good looking" head, but the question about what occurred last January may never be solved at this point. I have been given a tentative bill of health and a wait-and-see diagnosis.
I am back to driving my man around and working in the garden, soaking up all the warm spring sunlight and enjoying its effect on daffodils that seem to have taken forever to bloom. Bruce is digging a trench to lay a new phone wire in the front yard and has made even more progress with cleaning out the container at the back of his property. Each weekend the neighbors either shake their heads with surprise of all the things he pulls out of there or nod their heads in approval of the spring cleaning.
Today Bruce donated some wood he found while doing renovations to the museum next door. They were very pleased to discover the name imprinted on the wood "weiss brothers" are the same land owners who built the brick two story business building on the corner of Vashon Highway and Bank Road. Vashon is infused with history. |
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| More News, All Good |
[Mar. 13th, 2009|01:54 pm] |
Dear friends, it has not been my intention to ignore all your comments to my last post. I have no excuse to give save it was with some surprise this morning that I discovered that I had posted before my EEG appointment and then completely forgot what I had done. I can be absent minded, but this is perhaps more due to all the stress I've been experiencing. It has been my very intention to post about my EEG appointment, but my attention has been focused on such things as completing my 2008 tax forms so that I can apply for more charity assistance in order to cover the unexpected medical bills that have been weighing heavily on my mind since the first of the year.
So onto the EEG. Electroencephalography (EEG) is nothing more than a graphical reading of the firing of neurons in the brain as they are picked up through the scalp with electrodes. It is generally a painless process, although the placement of electrodes with water soluble glue can be uncomfortable, especially if you are sensitive to strangers touching your head.
My technician turned out to be quite personable with a good bedside manner. When she put on the electrodes she began by marking my head at cranial nodes with a grease pencil, covering the entire crown, which tickled a bit. Then as she glued each electrode down she scrubbed the scalp vigorously to minimize oils and maximize adhesion. This actually hurt a little, but didn't last long enough to complain about. Once that was complete she turned off the light in the room and set up a strobe light which is the first test. Successively increasing the frequency of the strobe, she asked me to close my eyes and then shone a flashing light onto my eyelids.
The effect is amazing. I have closed my eyes in a nightclub where there are strobe lights and never saw this particular visual effect. What I experienced was similar to looking down a tube that had a black and white checkerboard projected onto it. In between each strobe, the technician had me open my eyes and then close them again before she increased the strobe frequency. As the frequency increased the visuals gradually changed incorporating color and other effects more difficult to explain. At the highest frequencies the effect was a grainy gray pattern, similar to looking too close at a rough wall.
Many years ago I met a Seattle artist who was inspired by the visuals encountered during an EEG and incorporated the checkerboard effect into her paintings. I have looked for her work online but haven't come up with anything, otherwise I'd include an image for you. But they are very distinctive; swirling checkerboard patterns in blue and white with goldfish and flowers floating between. It never occurred to me how what she painted could be due to an EEG until I experienced it myself.
Anyway, in the next test, I was asked to breath heavy until I hyperventilated. After doing the heavy breathing for several minutes you do experience tingling sensations in your hands and feet and feel light headed, but it isn't as unpleasant as the few times I've actually hyperventilated while exercising. Perhaps because I was lying down already, I didn't experience any queasiness or see lights. Thankfully this test didn't take long.
The final test is done with the lights off and they encourage you to attempt to sleep. In preparation for the EEG, I was asked to limit my sleep the night before to about four hours so I was already feeling groggy that day. I didn't fall unconscious during this last test. It has been several years since I've attempted to sleep in the city and every five minutes or so a siren would sound or a train would whistle or a truck would honk its horn.
My technician did say she was able to collect enough data from my sleeping period. And the good news is that my Neurologist said my results were normal. I am now scheduled for a brain MRI this next Sunday and this will be a defining test. Apparently when my head was scanned at the emergency, they were only looking for internal bleeding, which is called a CT scan. This is all at the grace of Swedish Medical's Access program, which I am very grateful to have qualified for. |
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| EEG Update |
[Feb. 13th, 2009|04:24 pm] |
I received notice from Swedish Medical Access program that I am approved to schedule my anticipated EEG procedure. I have an appointment for February 24th.
In other news, I attended a psychiatric evaluation for my DSHS application on Monday. What an ordeal. My assigned psychiatrist was a very pleasant man and knowing from my years of working for a psychiatric clinic that professionals often complain about giving these evaluations, he was quite accommodating of my tendency to drift to tangential subjects. He merely reminded me of what we were attempting to accomplish and moved onto his next question. Afterward I felt physically exhausted as I walked home (no, I can't drive or work for six months on doctors orders).
I realized now that the anticipation of the evaluation and worry about not being able to pay medical bills have brought back some of my delusions of the New Year's events. While I continue to observe them as clearly delusional, I confessed one primary delusion to the psychiatrist that I have avoided sharing before. In doing this I think I may have cracked through to a key subconscious reasoning although I am still having some difficulty assembling my thoughts together into a comprehensive report. When I do, I suspect there will either be fodder for some short stories or perhaps an Indiana Jones discovers a National Treasure using The Davinci Code type novel.
I still remain well and conscious, despite the stress in my life. I've been reconnecting to old friends through FaceBook's interface and perhaps spending too much time in other social networks I've joined, but I believe it is a helpful distraction and allowing me a sense of connection that I feel has been missing in my recent life. Perhaps by the time I take my EEG, my doctors will have shared the information they have and come up with a more concrete diagnosis, until then I continue to meditate and do my best to remain calm.
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| Hunting My Inner Snark |
[Feb. 1st, 2009|10:51 am] |
 Henry Holiday's illustration of the Banker and the Bellman from Wikipedia
"In the midst of the word he was trying to say
In the midst of his laughter and glee
He had softly and suddenly vanished away
For the Snark was a Boojum, you see."
--final stanza of Lewis Carroll's The Hunting of the Snark
On January 2, 2009 I found myself in the emergency room at St. Joseph's Hospital in Bellingham. The events leading up to my visit are absurd and out of character for me. My doctors are still unsure of what happened although in my mind many of the events remain clear. I was released from the emergency room after no less than two hours of the usual poking and prodding with the fairly cryptic diagnosis of "possible petit mal seizure".
Bruce and I were visiting with friends in anticipation of the New Year at a cabin reserved at a small state campground near the Canadian border. This was the third year in a row that we'd visited with these friends for the New Year, so the setting was familiar and comfortable. What was unfamiliar was my state of mind and behavior over the few days we were there.
Basically, during our visit I became gradually less coherent and responsive. Often I had a glazed look in my eyes and my attention would drift. When Bruce would check with me I assured him I was fine and in good spirits, but I was slow to respond and spent most of the time either sitting or sleeping. I had intended to spend time writing but had no interest or attention to do this. At times I would carry on conversations, but Bruce and our friends were having trouble following my train of thinking as I was talking about Quantum Physics and parallel universes. At one point I believed I was moving between parallel universes whenever someone would cough or the fire in the fireplace sparked.
Perhaps my behavior was most troubling when I would use the restroom. Sometimes I would forget what I was doing and Bruce would have to retrieve me, often finding me either sitting in the middle of the room or bent over at the waist in a yoga pose. A few times I asked him what I was doing there. For the remaining days I continued being very docile.
I had not taken any recreational drugs and while I did have a single alcoholic drink and half a beer on the first night we arrived at the campgrounds, I didn't drink any more and haven't had any alcohol since. The weather was snowy and while each day there were moments of thaw, the heavy and frequent flurries of snow pretty much kept us indoors the whole time. New Year's Eve was fairly calm and I was fairly lucid enough to participate celebrating with our friends and the next day I was ready to return home and said as much to Bruce.
Unfortunately the road out of the campground was too icy and our van became stuck in the ditch, forcing us to stay another night at the cabin. Friday, January 2nd, everyone was ready to leave and while our friends were packing up, all I could do was sit in a chair not really aware of what was going on around me. At some point I lost control of myself, and when coming in to retrieve me Bruce discovered me sitting in my own urine. While a friend called the emergency vehicle, he changed me into some clean clothes.
By this time, although I remember much of what was going on around me, I was convinced I was participating in an initiation or shamanic quest. I remember thinking that everyone who I made eye contact with had violet eyes or bluish halos around their iris, and strangely I was not too disturbed by this hallucination. At one point I was given a visual/motor control test where I was asked to look at the EMT's finger off to my right and then to the left, but I couldn't see anything out of my left eye, although I wasn't able to communicate this.
Bruce asked to travel with me in the emergency vehicle, but he was told he couldn't as he was not a blood relative. I would probably had protested had I been more lucid. I remember thinking the EMT's hand I was holding onto for support was Bruce until I felt his elbow and found them too rough to be Bruce's. The emergency vehicle didn't have any trouble getting to or leaving the campground and thankfully the trip was uneventful.
At the emergency room I was admitted while a nurse named Fawn supervised. An IV had been attached to my left arm to replenish fluids and blood must have been drawn at some point although I don't remember that. I do remember Fawn commenting, when hearing the various things I was reported talking about, that I must have overdosed on television. I think an overdose of the Internet is more likely. Later I was taken to other rooms for a chest x-ray and an MRI. Afterward I was returned to a stall to wait for the attending Doctor.
Dr. Mongue told me the only thing they found wrong with me was low potassium in my blood and I was given a huge white pill, usually given to race horses, that they had to break up for me to take. Later after Bruce arrived at the hospital and I was able to see him, the nurse came in and asked if I wanted to go. I was awake and felt well enough to go, but Bruce did ask that they give me a sedative for the ride home. I remained conscious until we were on the Ferry back to Vashon.
Since my visit to the emergency room I haven't exhibited any similar behavior. I saw my regular doctor on the following Monday, who insisted the hospital should not have released me as soon as they did, suggesting that he'd have preferred I was observed for twenty-four hours. He set up an appointment for me with the Swedish Neurological Specialist Clinic. I met with the Neurologist on MLK day, who unfortunately couldn't give me any sort of diagnosis as the films from St. Joseph's had not been forwarded to her. In the meantime, I've been receiving bills for all the medical visits and with no insurance or current income, I am quite stressed to pay these bills.
The Neurologist said the next procedure I needed was an EEG to see if I have any impairment to my brain, but I am unable to schedule this with Swedish until I am approved for their charity program. Perhaps the straw that may break this camel's back is my charity application was returned by the post office because I'd copied the address wrong. Last Tuesday I visited Social and Health Services in White Center to apply for medical assistance and was given no promises and more paperwork, as well as a psychiatric evaluation to schedule.
I am very bewildered and stressed in sorting all this out. While I remain lucid and aware without and apparent relapse, I have been experiencing emotional highs and lows that seem out of character for me, but Bruce says this was also happening last fall. I haven't included much of the delusional thinking I was experiencing in this post, just because it doesn't make much sense, but I have been writing it down in order to attempt some resolution for my own sanity.
I don't know what I'm going to do about the bills and feel very helpless having to rely on the bureaucracies of government and charity assistance programs. The only thing I can hope for is to keep my sense of humor (thus the reference at the beginning of this post to Lewis Carroll). I am very grateful for Bruce's support in this ordeal and ask for all your indulgence for sharing this difficult news. |
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