The Saga of the Mysterious Abdominal Pain Remains Unclear (Part 3 - July 2024)

If you've missed any parts of this saga, you can catch up with the links below:

Part 1 (April & May)

Part 2 (June)

Part 3 (Baby's First Coloscopy)

So, an upside of his continued playing hooky was that I was able to run the Celebration Run 5k in Jacksonville on Independence Day. It was hot, as always, but nice to just get away for a day and not have to worry about doctors and appointments and labs and pee and meds and, and, and.... I carried a medium flag this time (not the big boy on the flagpole), and it was better. I finished at almost exactly one hour (1:00:19), and I'm fine with that. This was cathartic, not athletic. Afterward, I hit up Dollar Tree and Walmart for a few things, had delicious cheese curds and custard at Culver's for lunch, then headed home. 

That Friday, he did another round of bloodwork and 24-hour urine collection, prompting Dr. L to change his blood pressure meds. 

He was set to go back to work on July 8th but another round of insomnia showed up and pushed his return back to June 11th, and it was good for a whopping two days. More pain showed up and he skipped work on Saturday - Monday (sure made going to Bridge of Lions in St. Augustine much easier, though). 

We got his colonoscopy results - one of the polyps that had been removed was a Tubular Adenoma. That kind of adenoma could develop into cancer, but they got it before it did, so all is fine, and they want him to come back in 2027. 

On July 25th, he met with his new Primary Care doc, ARNP LeBlanc. She listened to everything he said, and then had her attending (Dr. M) come in, as ARNP LeBlanc was stumped. Dr. M was the first doctor out of all of the people we'd seen to suggest that his LLQ pain may be something like scar tissue or internal adhesion. And unfortunately, the treatment is to go back in and try to fix what might be wrong, or learn to live with it. But it's not really something that can be seen on X-Rays or CT Scans. They also recommended a Gastroenterology consult, and an MRE of the abdomen and pelvis (similar to an MRI). Unfortunately (but as expected) their poking and prodding brought on a new bout of pain, and he was away from work until August 7th. 

The Saga of the Mysterious Abdominal Pain Continues (Part 2 - June 2024)

If you missed Part 1 of this Saga, you can go back and read it HERE. 

I took off the morning of June 3 so I could take Hubby to his Nephrology consult, and what an experience that was! Dr. L is this tiny little Asian woman, maybe in her 60s, probably 100lbs soaking wet. She listened to his symptoms and reviewed previous labs he completed. Before the appointment, Hubby submitted a urine sample and the results were the same (Proteinuria). His blood pressure is responding to the Amlodipine (prescribed last month by Dr. K); he’s now in the high 130s/90s range. She asked about his medical history, what meds he takes, normal stuff. Any time we’d say something she didn’t like, she’d crinkle up her face and then lightly lecture us (like, you don’t go for walks at all?!? Or Oh, you shouldn’t eat ham sandwiches, they’re full of salt and nitrates! Or You should never eat fast food ever again and switch to a vegan diet!!! Okay that last one was an over-exaggeration). Like, yeah, we get it. We know that we don’t eat healthily. But it didn’t feel like there was any empathy or caring to her admonishments; it came across more like nagging. She also seemed a bit rude and disdainful about the fact that his current General Practitioner was a virtual doctor; she called Dr. K a “Doc in a Box” in a dismissive little way (kind of a she’s not a real doctor because she can’t touch you remark). Neither of us were huge fans of her bedside manner (spoiler alert, she’s growing on us).

One interesting thing that she discovered, though… She went back and looked at all of the labs from when he was in the hospital for his appendix last year, and he had Proteinuria then! None of the doctors ever said anything! (My guess is that, since it wasn’t appendix-specific, they didn’t care at the time). So, he’s actually had this problem for much longer than just the past month or two… we only discovered it because of an unrelated pain issue. 

At the end of the visit, she put in orders for 13 different blood tests, plus a 24-hour urine collection, and recommended a possible change to his Blood Pressure meds (one that would have more benefits for his kidneys than what he’s currently taking). We picked up the Pee Jug and took it home with us – the plan is to start immediately, finish on Wednesday before his Colonoscopy Consult, then take the jug over to the lab afterward. 

Stress and worry came to a head later when we got home… Hubby started his 24-hour "pee clock" at 10:44am, which meant that his last pee would be around 10:44am the next day. Unfortunately, his GI (coloscopy) consult was at 11, and we had to leave the house by 10:15 to get there. I kept joking that he could pee before we left at 10:15, and bring it with us in case he had to pee again before 10:44, but he was adamant that he wasn’t going to leave the house until 10:44. No matter how I tried to explain that this was a stupid idea (in nicer terms, of course), he kept pushing back (he’s an obstinate SOB), accusing me of demanding he “pee on command” (which I wasn’t) and that he can’t do that (doesn’t matter, since I wasn’t asking him to). Finally, I just threw up my hands and said fuck it and let him stew. We put it behind us by dinner time, with him apologizing for taking his stress out on me. 

The next day, we packed up his jug nice and secure, with some ice packs to keep it cold, and headed over to his GI consult. This ARNP had such a great attitude, with a good sense of humor, even going as far as to recommend that we watch the episode of Good Mythical Morning when Rhett & Link got their Bro-lonoscopies. 

We got him scheduled for his coloscopy on June 20th and got a personalized hand-out of what pills and drinks he’ll need, when to drink and take the pills, and what to expect during the prep and actual procedure (but that’s a post for another day). Then, back across town to the lab to drop off the pee, though it was way too busy to stick around for bloodwork (it was past lunch time and we were both hangry). We picked up food from Sonic and headed home. We’ll pop over to the lab in a few days to do the rest of what is needed. 

On Wednesday (June 5th), we met again with Dr. K and filled her in on the events of the past week or so. She found it interesting that he’d been dealing with Proteinuria since last year, and no one told him about it. She was okay with Dr. L taking the lead on his care, since it was seeming like there was a lot of kidney-related care that was needed, but asked that we continue to keep her in the loop with lab results and scan results. When we complained to Dr. K about Dr. L’s bedside manner she suggested that we ask for a new doctor within the practice (later, after discussing it again, he decided we should give Dr. L another chance, just in case this was a one-off bad day or something). 

After another night of insomnia (oh, that better not be coming back!), we got labs done again, and the high protein (1200mg/day) was still there, as well as a positive hit for random antibodies (nothing specific). His kidney function has dropped from 75% in 2023 to 66% in 2024. Dr. L reminded us to watch his diet (low sodium, no fast food, vegetarian options, no prepackaged food) which may improve his blood pressure and help with weight loss – which in turn may decrease the Proteinuria levels. 

On Friday (June 7) he woke up with that mysterious Left Lower Quadrant (LLQ) pain again, really bad pain this time. And hasn’t returned to work since. He put in for a second leave of absence, but Dr. K fears it will be denied, because there’s no medical proof that there’s anything wrong with him. At a follow up appointment a few weeks later, she said again that she was worried about it being denied (and she didn’t want him to lose his job because of this pain). The next Tuesday, he had a CT Urogram, which was a very easy test, and came back clean… No issues with the kidneys or bladder. Interestingly, they did see something on his L5 vertebrae, like an old stress fracture, but that has nothing to do with the current issues. 

On Thursday, June 20th, he had his colonoscopy, but wow… that was such an adventure in what not to do that I have a stand-alone post about that! 

We got lucky and scored an appointment for his Urology Consult the following week, and this doctor was a very direct, to the point, kind of man. He listened, but didn’t waste time, with small talk or unrelated questions. He palpitated the abdomen, fondled the goods (skipped the one-finger howdy, since his butthole was sore after his colonoscopy). He didn’t see or feel anything questionable, so he suggested a Cystectomy, where they use a small tube to go up the peeper and into the bladder, to see what’s happening up there. That’s set up for August. On the way home, I suggested that he take a few Tylenol before the procedure, similar to how women are told to take meds before an IUD insertion, just to be on the safe side (A bit of pressure is doctor-speak for This shit’s gonna hurt). Then, because I didn’t want him to be surprised on the day of the event,  I explained to him that Lidocaine would be delivered through a needle (spoiler alert… I was wrong abut the delivery method) into his peeper. He was freaked out, as any man would be! I patiently explained that Lidocaine is what the Dermatologist uses when they shave off my moles, and how it works instantaneously. The first shot would suck, but then he wouldn’t feel the other ones... I’m pretty sure he stopped listening at “they’re gonna put sharp needles on my dick head,” though. 

We followed up the next day with Dr. K again, and she was (rightly) frustrated that he still hadn’t gone back to work yet, and admonished him for thinking that he shouldn’t go to work when he has pain, like none of us wake up pain-free, we just deal with it. They set a date to return to work on July 8th. She recommended that we continue with Dr. L and find a local General Practitioner so that we have a hand-on doctor take a swing at this. Besides that, I asked her if she thought that this LLQ pain could be something as stupidly simple as muscle strain, or a pinched nerve, and she said it was definitely possible. Those types of things don’t show up on x-rays or CT scans. She agreed with me that he should be up and moving around – I’ve been saying this to him for weeks, but maybe having her say it would kick his ass into gear a little bit (spoiler alert… it didn’t). I mean… It’s gotta be a muscle thing, right? I am wondering now if he picked up something wrong, or bent over wrong? Did he pull something the last time we had sex? Or a small muscle sprain or tear? What else could it possibly be? I’m so frustrated! 

So at this point, we have a little bit of breathing room. We have additional labs and a 24-hour urine to do, but I don’t think there’s anything to do until July 8th, when he goes back to work, and then nothing until August. I’m hopeful that – once I get him up and moving again – that stretching and walking will help him some, especially if I can get him limbered up before he goes back to work. 

Pooper View - A Wife's Experience with her Husband's First Colonoscopy

I want to preface this by saying that I love my husband very much,
and the mean things I say about him in this post are meant in jest...
He simply tested some nerves!   

If you read my last post, you saw that Hubby has been dealing with some mysterious abdominal pain, and we've seen all sorts of doctors for this issue. One of the things that his primary doc suggested was that he go ahead and do a Colonoscopy, now that he's 50 (though, the age to start that has dropped to 45, so yay, I should be having one soon as well). It didn't have anything to do with his pain issues (or newly discovered kidney issues), but just a general preventative test. 

The weekend before his Prep days, I did a quick google search of what he couldn't and couldn't eat/drink, and many websites only said to avoid red and purple foods or beverages. So I picked up some Blue Powerade, Orange Jell-O, some vanilla pudding... all things that his actual Prep Packet said that we should also avoid (nothing orange or blue). I also picked up Apple Juice, White Grape Juice, and the Mag Citrate drinks. I put all the drinks (plus some organic Lemonade from Trader Joe's) in the fridge to chill before the Prep began. 

On Wednesday morning (Prep Day), I set up the bathroom with a little TV tray that had air freshener, washcloths, baby wipes, butt cream, a USB cord for his phone, a space heater (the room gets cold), and an extra bottle of water. He set reminders on his phone for when he was supposed to start drinking his first Mag Citrate, and I put the timeline on the whiteboard on the fridge. He was supposed to drink a Mag Citrate at noon, take two Dulcolax at 2pm, then a second Mag at 6pm, in addition to 64oz of plain water. Hubby (to my irritation) doesn't ever drink a lot of any type of liquid, so there was no way he was going to be able to drink a half-gallon of water in a day! 

He opened the first Mag at noon, and immediately made a face. It was super-salty and tasted terrible and he wasn't able to drink a lot of it quickly. While he sipped, I made ramen for lunch (hey, I'm not on a liquid diet!) I think it took him about an hour to make it through the first bottle of Mag, and it was sitting loudly in his stomach. He followed it with the Dulcolax at 2pm, and it was fine... until about 3pm or so...

And the pooping began. 

At first, there wasn't too much of an issue; he went in, he pooped, he came back out, he went back in. But around 5pm, he started getting really nauseated and there was no way he would be able to start the next bottle at 6pm. He called the nurse-on-call and they said that it was totally normal; he should try to relax, breathe, blah blah blah. 

He started the second bottle of Mag at 7pm (about an hour behind schedule), but he was having a terrible time, only able to take tiny sips. I suggested that he mix it with any of the juices (he poo-pooed, heh, that idea) instead choosing to dilute it 4-to-1 with room temperature tap water. Sigh... all this did was stretch out how much water/mix he had to drink! Oh, and he decided to just camp out in the bathroom to drink this, instead of sitting on the couch during the non-poopage times. 

Throughout the day, I just randomly munched on snax, spending time working on the blog. I had a bagel with melted cheese for dinner around 9pm then just zoned out to YouTube videos and Reddit. Once in a while, he'd come out of his cave to check in with me and tell me to go to bed, but I told him that I was staying up however long it took him to finish the Mag, to make sure he was okay and didn't need any help. Around midnight, he was nauseated again, having a hard time drinking so much liquid (well, duh, you're drinking 4x as much liquid as you really need!). I had to put on my Nagging Wife hat and try to force him to finish the second Mag. 

He still had about a quarter-bottle of Mag left to drink at 2:15am, and he attempted to chug it which, unfortunately, ended up with vomiting (while pooping, bless his heart). Thankfully, most of the Mag had done what needed to be done, so we called it a night around 2:45am and went to bed (and damn, that bed felt so good! When I woke up on Thursday, I don't think I'd moved at all during the night). 

On Thursday morning, he was feeing a little better, and started his third bottle of Mag at 9am. I again suggested he mix it with any of the juices, and he again turned his nose up at the idea, choosing to go with plain, room temp water (okay buddy, sucks for you). 

I left at 10am for a previously scheduled hair appointment across town, picked up Chick-fil-A and a drink on the way home for lunch. While I was gone, he got all the Mag down, but a little came back up at the very end. He said that his output was the color and consistency that it should be, so I had to hope that he would be okay for the actual procedure (if the exit's not clean, they'll make you do it all again). 

Later in the afternoon, we got to the facility, checked him in, and only had to wait about 10 minutes before they called him back for his procedure. I wasn't allowed to go back with him, so I went on a field trip to find the hospital cafeteria. I didn't need any food, so of course, I ordered a plate of Bacon Cheese Fries! They weren't the best, but certainly not the worst I've ever had. The fries were hot and fresh, with tons of cheese sauce, and hand-chopped bacon (not 'bits') for about five bucks. 

I found a nice table outside in the shade, and ended up only eating about half of the fries (again, I didn't need fries...this was self-soothing with food). I walked back to the facility and sat in the main lobby near the elevators (quieter than the lobby where we checked in). I was there for about 45 minutes, and then the office called me to tell me that Hubby was coming around and that I should meet them at the front door, and they'd bring him down for me. 

On the drive home, we reviewed the After-Visit summary - they removed three polyps (one of which was a Tubular Adenoma, could become cancerous, but not cancerous right now), with no other issues found (including any reason for his mysterious LLQ pain). 

At home, he relaxed on the nice, soft couch, though he didn't feel a lot of pain or violation from the actual procedure. He had a little blood in his poo later (we were told that was to be expected), and over the following few days he had a painful butthole. All in all, this was an uneventful successful procedure, that he gets to do again in 3 years. 

Maybe then he'll listen to my suggestions more, do it my way, and have an easier Prep! 

The Saga of the Mysterious Abdominal Pain (Part 1)

Last year, if you recall, Hubby had an appendectomy. They did it laparoscopically, going in from three places: his belly button, his FUPA crease under his belly button, and the left side of his lower abdomen (the appendix is located on the right side of the body). Surgeon told us later that this was an easier way to do it, instead of cutting him open all the way. 

Fast forward to mid-April (after we got back from vacation, actually), when he told me that he’d been having some abdominal pain on the left side for the past few days. He wondered if it was related to his surgery. By April 18, he was in increasing pain, kind of like waves, where I’d see him tense up his whole body to deal with the pain. He’s never been a “go to the doctor” kind of guy, but I was able to talk him in to seeing a virtual doctor, via Doctor on Demand, which is covered by his health insurance. We spoke to Dr. K and after hearing all of his symptoms, she suggested that he might have Diverticulitis – this is when there are little pockets in your intestine that become inflamed or irritated. (Diverticulosis is when you have them, Diverticula are the names for the pocket, and Diverticulitis is when they’re angry). She suggested that he eat a low-fiber, easy-to-digest diet (to give the intestines a chance to heal), and follow up in a week. 

At the April 24th follow-up, he reported that the pain levels were about the same, about a 4-5 on a scale of 10 (seriously?) Because of this, Dr. K suggested that he get some lab work done, as well as a urinalysis (UA), continue the diet, and follow up again in another week. We got the lab work and UA done at a local Walgreens, and the results showed red blood cells and high protein levels (3+) I his urine. Dr. K called us when she got the results and posited that a kidney stone might be the culprit (even though kidney stones usually cause pain in the back). She referred him for a kidney ultrasound, as well as a colonoscopy (because he’s due for his first one, not because of the pain). She also wrote him a prescription for blood pressure meds, because his blood pressure was way too high, hitting Hypertension 1 or 2 levels. The plan was to have him pick up his new meds after work when he went back – he’d been taking a leave of absence at this point, because of the pain and all the doctor stuff. 

He was set to return to work on May 2nd, but he couldn’t sleep overnight (May 1st into May 2nd)… Nothing unusual, this has happened in the past; he would just take an extra day off and get back to normal the next night. Not this time! He was suffering some serious insomnia that I’ve never seen before. We’d watch TV in bed for two hours or so (up until about 10pm, normal bedtime for us), and he’d fall asleep until midnight and then just… be awake the rest of the night until the alarm went off at 6:30am. This went on for a few days (with him missing more and more days of work), with him getting more and more frustrated – which, in turn, made the insomnia worse. We tried Unisom. We tried Tylenol PM. Finally, I had to be “The Bitch” and I took away his soda after 2pm (I mean, come on… he was complaining about his insomnia while drinking Mtn Dew in bed…). I had to gather all of my Inner Peace Hippie language and tell him that things would work out, would be okay, it’s nothing to worry about, blah blah blah (basically “talk him down” and get him out of his head). I made the suggestion that, when the insomnia happens, he should get out of bed, go sit on the couch and read until he felt sleepy again. When he felt sleepy, just let it happen, and just sleep on the couch. This did work, and for a few days, I’d go wake him up to see if he was going to go to work (never did), then lead him back to bed where he’d sleep again until 9:30 or so. Every morning, he was like a zombie. 

During this time of insomnia, on May 4th, his Ultrasound was negative for anything. No stones found. No kidney abnormalities found. There is a possibility that a stone was there and it had passed painlessly. Dr. K suggested that he do a second UA at the end of the month before the next virtual appointment. The following day, I finally had a chance to pick up his blood pressure meds (yes, almost 2 weeks after they were prescribed), and I also picked up some Magnesium Glycinate and Melatonin – I was gonna get that man to stay asleep all night, no matter what it took. No caffeine after 2pm. No candy in bed. No cake or ice cream or brownies. Lots of water. Two Mag and two Melatonin at bedtime. And holy shit, did it WORK! He slept like a freakin’ rock! He was finally able to sleep all through the night, and on May 24th, he returned to work (thank god!)

He had a follow up UA on May 28th, and when the results came back, Dr. K called us to tell us that there was still protein in the urine; she believes that the kidneys are fine, but there’s just a “leak” somewhere. Kidneys aren’t supposed to let the good stuff, like protein, go through; only waste. She recommended a CT Scan of the kidneys, as well as referring him to a Urologist (for the urinary anatomy) and a Nephrologist (for the kidneys). She reiterated that there’s no cause for alarm, but with the kidneys not working right, the cause needed to be found. All referrals were sent as Urgent so that he would be seen quickly. 

Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I (of course) hit up Google to figure out what might be happening. Many results said it was Proteinuria, a sign of Kidney Damage. Then it got a little scarier… It could be an indication of Chronic Kidney Disease, which eventually leads to Kidney Failure which leads to Kidney Transplant or death. But, let’s not think about that… Possible treatment includes easy (yet hard) things like changing diet, weight loss, or (in some cases) dialysis. 

My brain is trying to pin the high blood pressure as the culprit, but at the same time… my brain is running away, indulging in horrid What If scenarios. Months and months of health issues. Sick husband who can’t work. How to pay bills. Having to be the only one who can do anything. And then Wednesday, as I’m doing dishes, out of nowhere, my brain decided to conjure up the idea of him dying, and envisioning how to tell my child that her father was dead, how to tell my mom, notifying not-as-close family and friends, and everything that comes with that. I spiraled deeper into this treacherous fantasy as I scrubbed pots and pans… Does he have life insurance? Would I be able to keep the house? What about all the places we said we’d go some day that he’ll never get to go to? God, it was terrible! I saw the next 50 years of my life, dreams we had, but without him in it… And then… then… My brain said, if he’s gone, why should I even stay in this town? How could I possibly live in this house, that we built our family in for the past 20 years? His memory is in every single square inch of this house. How could I suffer with that for the next 50 years? But then… I could I not stay? Leaving this house would be admitting that he finally was gone, out of my life, and that I was ready to move on without him. 

Have you ever tried to do something while trying not to cry at the same time? Lord, it was a shitty day… Every time I thought I was okay, another thought would cross my mind (He’ll never see the Pacific Ocean or He’ll never get to visit Japan) and I’d have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my shit together. I was fine in bed while we watched TV, but of course, Lights Out Bedtime Brain does some seriously mean things, and once I was sure he was asleep, I had to go into the bathroom and sob (like ugly, mouth open sob) into a towel, just to get it all out. Like, how do I survive without this man? He is my world. There is no place in my existence that he has not touched. 

This morning (May 30th), I woke up and for a blissful moment there were no problems. He was sleeping. I was sleepy. Everyone’s bodies worked perfectly. Then I stretched and my muscles hurt (as they always do), and it was like snapping back into my body… There is an Ongoing Situation hanging over us, like a grey cloud. It’s not a black cloud, I tell myself today. Kidneys are fine. They’re just a leak. It could be something that can be fixed with a pill or a diet. That’s what I’m tying my hat to today. 

Everything is okay until I hear otherwise. 

Oh Lord, it's Happening Again - Meet Steve!

In thinking about New Year, New Me bullshit at the beginning of the year, I had made a few bullet points in my brain, kind of a "Take Care of Myself" to-do list for 2023. Included on that list was replacing my IUD (done!), getting Lasik (just had my consultation!), getting a filling (ugh), and finally seeing a dermatologist to remove the new bump that has resurfaced on my chest.  

Well... Apparently, that bump (that's been slowly creeping back since 2017) has decided to line jump everyone else... He's back and he's angry. 

Back in 2013, when I went to the dermatologist to get a few other moles removed, I pointed out this bump, and they told me it was perfectly normal. Three years after that, it got funky and had to be drained. The bump totally went away and my chest was nice and smooth. I think the first time I have photo proof of the bump being visible again was in 2018, and even then he was tiny, like a mini M&M, and didn't hurt at all. Fast forward to now, and he feels about the size of a Peanut M&M, just hanging out under my skin. No pain or anything, but annoying and ugly and so I wanted him gone. 

I guess he didn't like the threat of eviction, so he began to cyst up. I first noticed a slight pain, like tenderness, in the area around March 17. I wrote it off as post-massage pain (my massage therapist really hurts me sometimes!) and ignored it. But the pain was still there a day or so later, which is unusual. By Sunday, I was sure that the bump was becoming Cysty Spacek, so I started slathering it with Neosporin, hoping to get ahead of it and keep it from coming to a head. 

Shiny Steve, under a blanket of Neosporin

On Monday, March 20, I debated getting an appointment with my general practitioner, but remembered that my employer now has a dedicated health center (woo hoo!), and I was able to score an appointment for the very next day. 

Getting a little bigger... 

On Monday, I headed over to the doctor's office. The ARNP poked and prodded it a bit, agreed with everything I'd told her (I've done all this before, sweetie, I know more than you), and set me up with a round of antibiotics. She also referred me to a local dermatology office, in case I could get in before The Poppening began (but I don't have high hopes). I came home, slathered more Neosporin on it, covered it with a huge Band-Aid, and resigned myself to having to deal with this again. 

Yep, it's getting a pointy part to it, the Poppening will happen soon

Hello, Steve's Head, can't wait to clean you out

He's mean now (Thursday, March 30, for reference)

On Wednesday, it was slightly bigger, as expected. The Band-Aids were more irritating than helpful, so I only covered the bump when I was out and about. On Saturday, I did parkrun, then went grocery shopping, where I must have picked up some cooties, because on Sunday, I started feeling miserable!!! Headache morphing into a migraine, and a fever of 101.5º! I took a long nap, but it didn't help much. I was miserable all day, and I ended up texting my boss that I would be working from home on Monday. 

I beat back the fever and fought the migraine all day, but I was unable to eat anything, which was a new and shitty development. By Tuesday, I was feeling really bad, so I stayed home again, but I was getting overly concerned, so I set up a telehealth with Dr. F at the health center... I wondered if I was having a reaction to the original antibiotic, or if the cyst was leaking and making me sick? She thought I might have a slight case of the flu (remember the flu?) She changed my antibiotic to a different variety, just in case. I ended up eating a package of Honey Stinger gummies for dinner, and took both a Unisom and a Tylenol PM at bedtime... I slept the sleep of the dead.

On Wednesday, I continued to work from home, and I was actually feeling slightly better. The migraine had been replaced by a less terrible, "regular" headache. I was able to eat half a bowl of Lucky Charms. I had something food-adjacent for lunch, and made actual food for dinner (the first "real food" since Saturday, really). My stomach seemed happy to receive it!

On Thursday (March 30th), I assumed all was back to normal. I woke up feeling normal. I took Hubby to work like normal. I hopped in the shower like normal... But by the time I got shampoo in my hair, I knew I was fucked. I was getting dizzy, even though the shower was tepid - not my typical Bathtub of Satan Hot. Shaving my legs was difficult, and I whipped through it as quickly as possible, then got the conditioner out even quicker, and then... 

Well, new Life Accomplishment unlocked, at age 45. I puked in the shower. Luckily it was all water, but wow. I never want to vomit from a vertical position ever again. It was like my body had no idea how to puke vertically. There wasn't any force to the expulsion, it was just such a weird, uncomfortably uncomfortable experience. I got out and rested on the toilet, then did my hair, wrapped myself up, and laid in bed for 20 minutes. I emailed my boss to let her know I was staying home again, then texted Hubby the same. I called the Dermatologist again (they still hadn't called to schedule me for a visit, despite two referrals and me leaving a voicemail with them yesterday), and fortuitously, they had a cancellation, so I scored an appointment for the afternoon at 2:30. Unfortunately, that meant I had to cancel my standing massage appointment, but this was much more important. I picked Hubby up from work around 1:30 and headed over to the Dermatologist.

This was definitely a fancy Dermatologist's office. Everyone was pretty and perfect... {eyeroll} They got me in and told me that they could "express the infection" today, but I'd have to come back to have the sac removed. I was okay with that, so they had me lay down, and injected me with Lidocaine. 

Will this fix it?

Now, on a normal day Lidocaine isn't that bad... some people say it hurts a bit, but I've never had an issue. This time though? It was like someone was sticking red-hot electrified needles through my skin. It was hellacious! I threw out four or five bellowing "FUCK!!!!!!"s before I even realized I was bellowing! I apologized to everyone in the room for my reaction, but then she stuck me again, and I bellowed some more! I expected her to let it sit for a few minutes to really kick in, but she was squeezing like a teen on prom night as soon as she put the needle down. It only took a few minutes (sorry, they threw the ick away, so no photos for you, you sicko), then I was bandaged up and sent on my way with an appointment to come back once I was fully healed, so they could get the sac out, and an additional appointment for a full-body mole check (but that's for a different post). I was in-and-out in under 30 minutes! Hubby thought we'd be there for hours, having actual surgery, but nah, not this time. At home, I took some Aleve to get ahead of the pain and had a candy bar for a snack... so far my body is happy with that (kinda...). I slept great, and was starving when I woke up the next day, so I think I'm definitely on the mend. 

On Saturday, I did parkrun, got a haircut, made a grocery run, and picked up Chick-fil-A for lunch. I was still tired and somewhat weak from the weirdest Sick Week I've experienced in forever. I've been keeping Steve covered since Thursday, and it feels like it's getting full again. It hurts, just like it did last week. When I took my bandage off to look at it, I could tell, yeah... it's happening again. Should I go back to the derm? Is this some bullshit I have to deal with over and over? I just spent $50 to have this drained, only to have it come back in a few days! Why did I bother! 

By Sunday, it was fuller, and more painful; and maybe I was imagining it, but it felt more painful than last week. On Monday (we're up to April 3rd, if you're keeping track), I felt okay enough to go to work, but it hurt a lot. By Tuesday, I was thinking that I needed to go back to the derm, as it was for sure more painful than before I drained it. No matter how I stand, or sit, or lie down, bra or no bra, the weight of my breasts pull on my chest and cause the cyst to hurt. But even worse is that my chest skin is MAD from all the Band-Aid wearing. I had to actually take it off while I was at work to give it a break. 

When I went to bed, I decided to try a warm compress (that's supposed to help, right?) First I tried my warm-up eye mask that I have for headaches; that was nice for like 10 minutes but then the heat dissipated. So I broke out my Old Lady Heating Pad, and I actually fell asleep on my back with the pad on my chest, with my hand on top to hold it there. It was a fitful sleep, but I was able to stay this way all night long. 

{It's gonna start getting gross from here, folks... Proceed if you can handle it}

The next morning, I woke up and was happy to see that the pad had stayed in place all night. When I pulled it off my chest, though... it was stuck to my body. I cracked open one eyeball and saw that there was some discoloration on the cover of the pad, and damn, it was like Christmas Morning! My cyst had finally come to a head! I was still half-asleep, so my first thought was, okay, if it's leaking, I can put some Neosporin on it but, guys, we were WAY past that stage. Once I got vertical, a gush of blood started drooling its way down my skin... It looked like I'd been shot in the chest. I peed while I held a wad of toilet paper to the open hole, then checked it out in the mirror. 

Okay, so I wasn't expecting Squeeze Time at 8am, but it's Squeeze Time whether I want it to be or not. It hurt! Both because there's a disgusting cyst in there, but also leftover pain from Squeeze Time last week. Thankfully (unfortunately? Ewww...) most of the pus-sy stuff was expelled at the Dermatologist's office (you know, that vanilla pudding-type gunk); I had to deal with a lot of dark maroon red blood, and some cyst particles. After about 10 squeezes, the much more... chunky... stuff started showing up. I tried to pull it out with tweezers, but no luck. I was able to pull a little more out with TP-wrapped fingers. 

But then... oh then... a big hunk emerged, and just enough pressure... and this absolute mass of bloody, chunky funk launched itself across the vanity and squelched into the mirror. It was so chunky and bloody that it began to drool down the mirror like a murder scene. I am who I am, and I pulled out some of the chunks so I could take a picture of them, then continued to squeeze until my chest stopped hemorrhaging. Then I cleaned up the murder scene that was the vanity and mirror. Then I cleaned up ME, who was looking like Carrie White at this point. Finally, I cleaned up the hole, got as much of the leaking taken care of as possible, then put on a big bandage to catch additional leakage. 

Top Row: Pieces I rescued from the mirror (No idea why there's hair on them)
Middle Row: Leftover chunks that came out a few days later
Bottom Row: After popping vs what it looked like 2 days earlier

I climbed back in bed for a bit for my chest skin and muscles to recover, and worked from home the rest of the day. By the end of the day, the swelling had gone down, and the pain receded by about 75%. I changed bandages once, and it was as disgusting as expected. Fresh bandages and Neosporin went on before bed. I was hopeful that I wouldn't have to do this again; it's not the squeezing that hurts, but the filling up part (anyone who's had a huge pimple can totally understand).

For the next few days, it kept leaking but not chunking, and not filling up any more. I used some of the bigger bandages that the Dermatologist gave me, because I could double them up for more coverage. My skin absolutely hated the adhesive, but too bad! By late Friday, I swapped over to "normal size" Nexcare Sensitive bandages. I think at this point, I've turned a corner to recovery. so maybe I can finally get back into the swing of things!!! I've put off gym and running for weeks because of this, and I'm tired of it! By Sunday, I had just the tiniest bit of seepage. Over the next few weeks, the leaking stopped and I eventually could go bandage-free (oh thank God!). I was finally able to get back to the gym by the end of April. 

By mid-May, the cyst was completely deflated and empty, and I was back to having a hard, Peanut M&M-sized bump under my chest, with a healing hole next to it. 

You can see that Steve set up shop NEXT TO the bump

I was beginning to fret about my upcoming procedure to remove the bump (who at some point I renamed to Steve). I wasn't looking forward to the pain from the Lidocaine. I didn't know if I was going to have to pull packing gauze out afterward, and if so, for how long. I didn't know how much pain I'd be in afterward. I was just... in a mood when I woke up on May 11. I had a small bagel for lunch (under duress... I wasn't hungry, but I knew that Hubby would force me to eat if I didn't). I got to the office, and got called back after a few minutes. The Lidocaine was much less painful this time (not shooting into inflamed tissue, I suppose), and I was numb very quickly. Dr. A came in and sliced Steve out of me and had me sewed back up in minutes! They used electrocautery for hemostasis, whatever that means. I got 3 deep stitches, and one surface stitch... And I learned that "one stitch" doesn't mean that you have one line of thread, because I had about 8-10 lines of thread... it looks like a caterpillar on my chest! 

The stitches the day after removal

They bandaged me up and let me have a look at Steve, and yes, I took photos this time. He was bigger than I expected, bigger than the tip of my index finger. I have to keep my chest dry until tomorrow, and then clean it well and slather on some mupirocin for the next two weeks. I'll come back right around Memorial Day to have my stitches removed, and then a few weeks later, I'll return for a full body mole check. On the way home, we got ice cream and a big ol' soda for me at Sonic, and I plan on ordering pizza for dinner. Because I'm a grown ass adult who just had a gross cyst pulled out of her chest! 

The pressure gauze/bandage right after stitches were done

Everybody... Say hi to Steve!

Goodbye, Steve, I won't miss ya!

On May 25th, I had my stitches removed, and I was left with a keloid scar that looks like a funky caterpillar. For about a week, I was just putting on some Jergen's Manuka Honey body lotion that I had lying around; I ended up buying some scar gel that was supposed to be better than Mederma, but it hasn't done shit. And I can't return it to Amazon, so I'm stuck with it. I went back and ordered some Silicone Scar Sheets, which I've been wearing non-stop, and as of July 11, I think I'm seeing some improvement? It's a thick nasty scar, so it's probably going to take a lot of time to break it down, I think. (ETA: I don't remember exactly when, but I stopped wearing the sheets... it seemed like it was making the scar hard, so I stopped for a week. The scar got softer. So I put the sheet back on, and it felt hard again. So screw it... my skin's gonna get whatever the scar ends up doing...)

The last day with stitches

Finally, the caterpillar is gone!

From July until now, everything has been fine. I touch my scar a lot, like a woobie. Steve had been there for a decade, and now he's gone... Maybe I'll call my scar Jefferson, since he replaced Steve. (Yes, that is a "Married... with Children" reference. One Cool Point to you if you got it!)

So, here we are now, a full year later, May 2024, with some After Shots, as well as some side-by-side shots to show how well I've healed. Do I like the scar? Nope, not in the slightest. But it's part of me and it's part of my story. Life would be boring story if we only talked about the good parts!

Future Lazy here... I had my annual body check last week (June 13), and the derm went ahead and injected a steroid shot into the remaining scar tissue. So far, I don't think anything has changed, but maybe it takes some time. 

Photo taken May 1, 2024

Top Row: March 30, 2023 and May 4, 2023
Bottom Row: May 13, 2023 and May 1, 2024

I Am Here - Spud Run 5k Race Report 2024

After a less-than-stellar "running season" over the past few months, I knew it was time to get my running shoes back on and hit the course. 

When I checked the weather the night before, it looked... okay. Like, overcast, a nice temp, but no rain in the forecast until 10am or so, definitely after I finished and got my medal. But that was not to be the case. I got a few drizzles on the way there, nothing more than spittle. 

I parked and went in to get my bib, then got in line for the potties, behind two women who brought their little toe nipper dogs - not service animals, just pets - into the ladies' room. The dogs felt that it was fine to stick their heads under the stalls every chance they got, and yet barked loudly and annoyingly when it was their owner's turn in the stalls! Ooh, it's just a peeve I have... dogs are not children!!! They don't need to go everywhere with you, like inside libraries, inside library bathrooms, or inside library bathroom stalls. When it was my turn in a stall, a huge boom of thunder announced the incoming deluge of rain that had just begun. It was pouring out there! Oh well... Sugar melts, but spicy sticks around, so I went over and got my potatoes and took them back to the car, getting absolutely drenched. I chilled out in the car for a bit (I'm always either way early or way late!), watching the raindrops on the window. 

Still Life, Car Park, Water on Glass 

It seemed to abate when it was time to head to the start line, and the sky actually looked like it was clearing, so I debated bringing my rain jacket, or just get wet if it started again, but I decided to wear the jacket. It was 70º when I left the car, but a wet 70º is much different from a sunny 70º! 

Deep enough to get my ankles wet if I stepped in it

And it turned out to be a smart decision because within two minutes of starting the race, the downpour came back. It felt delicious, honestly, warm and welcoming on my face. I heard random people nearby who were complaining about the weather, but whatever... it's just water! I put my headphones in and just walked. Oh, yeah, I'm just walking now. I'm still dealing with some leftover bullshit from February/March, so my goal was to walk this entire thing and see how I felt at the end. 

Honest confession... I don't know what's up with my camera settings, lol

The first two miles of the race were uneventful, just wet. I was happy to be back at it, happy to have some time to myself with my thoughts (it's been a hard two weeks since we got back from Arkansas), and happy to be able to move relatively pain-free. 

At one point, the rain was just pounding us, the heaviest it had been all morning, and the song I Am Here by P!nk came on my playlist, and y'all... I'm not usually that person who heavily identifies with music, like at ALL, but for some reason a few lines really just hit me in the right way...

I can think of 1,000 places

Much worse than this

But I am here, I am here

My face is also a potato

Like, yeah, it's raining, and I'm tired, and my legs are hurting now, and I'd much rather be in my nice, warm bed, with my nice, warm hubby, but damn... it could be so much worse! It made me realize how blessed I am to be happy, healthy, and here. 

The last mile was rain-free, and warmer, so I took off my jacket and wrestled with it for the entire time (it's slippery and didn't want to stay tied around my waist). I finished with a chip time of 57:49, which wasn't terrible, given my lack of training, plethora of pains, and the weather. Though we all know at this point, I'm not doing this for PRs... I'm never gonna get faster. I was 252nd finisher out of 272 (even though only 411 people registered for this run... I have a feeling the weather kept a lot of people home this morning!), 148th out of 165 females, and 10th out of 11 in my age group. The last finisher came in at 1:23:17. 

I was able to score another bag of potatoes on my way back to the car, and then made my way over to Race-Trac to change and get a Pepsi, before driving up to IKEA to pick up some shelves I needed for the living room. And then (logic be damned), I drove all the way back to St. Augustine to get some maple fudge (IYKYK) from Savannah Sweets, hit up Buc-ee's and then drive home. 

What's a Heel Spur?

If this were a TV show, I'd have a cool little Previously on The Lazy Lady montage, but alas, this is only the printed word... 

In January, I was unable to complete the Celebration Half-Marathon, quitting at Mile 6 due to some gnarly Plantar Fasciitis and leg pain. I had a little mental breakdown, but I feel much better now (mentally anyway). 

In February, I was able to complete both races during Gasparilla. I think that the heavy-handed massages, tons of cardio, and lots of stretching my calves had something to do with it. 

In March, I pushed my luck, and did Gate River Run. I completed it, but at what cost? My foot hurt the entire time (not like bad bad, but enough), and I think the final downhill portion really screwed something up. By the time I got to a local convenience store to change my clothes, I literally couldn't put any weight on my left foot. All the way home, and the rest of the weekend, I babied my foot, but I knew that something was fucky, and I needed to see a doctor. Thoughts of sprains, strains, tears, and even fractures crossed my mind. When I made an appointment with my doctor, I told them I suggested a stress fracture. 

At the appointment, Doc poked and prodded my foot, pointing out how swollen both of my feet and legs were. She took an x-ray of my left foot and told me that she didn't see any breaks or fractures, but there was a possible heel spur on my left heel. Okay, what the hell is a heel spur?

Well, it's a calcium deposit causing a bony protrusion on the underside of the heel bone, and they are frequently associated with plantar fasciitis. Treatment includes exercise, orthotics, pain meds, and cortisone shots (if necessary). Heel spurs are caused by strains of foot muscles, stretching of the planta fascia, and repeated tearing of the membrane that covers the heel bone. They are especially common among athletes who run or jump. Other risk factors include abnormal gait (walking 'funny'), poorly fitting shoes, increasing age, flat feet, (and everyone's favorite...) obesity. Heel spurs themselves don't hurt, but rather the soft tissue injury and inflammation associated with it.  Doc said that because my spur was super-tiny, there was no need to do much for it (though she did give me a bottle of high-strength Aleve, which worked well), but she did suggest referring me to a Podiatrist, both for the foot pain as well as the swelling. 

Over the next few weeks (the appointment was almost two months later), my swelling lessened, and the pain abated somewhat, and by the time I saw the Podiatrist, I was second-guessing myself as to whether or not I even needed to see this guy. I mean, by this point, I'd dealt with it for weeks, ran though an airport, and even hiked a mountain valley! But I figured I'd go through with it, because at the very least, he could give me some tips on how to keep it from happening again, right? Right?

Nope. Not this guy. When I got to his office, he was running almost an hour late. When he finally came into my exam room, he rolled in on his little stool and immediately asked me why I was here. No bedside manner at all, almost interrogatory demeanor. Very off-putting. I tried to give him the history (January to now) of why I was here, but he kept looking at me like, shut up and give me a quicker answer. He asked what I was currently doing to ease the pain, and I told him that I'd been doing all the stretches, rolling the ball, etc. He made a dismissive noise at this and spent about 15 seconds looking at my feet. Looking. I honestly don't remember him even touching my feet! If he did, it was so inconsequential that I missed it. 

He leaned back on his little rolley stool and asked me what I wanted... He said well, so what do you want me to do? All I can offer you are pills and shots, but you're obviously not into traditional western medicine since you're doing all the holistic hippie stuff. Yes, he called years and years of traditional flexibility methods holistic hippie stuff. I agreed with him that I didn't need any of that, but asked him what else I could do to fix this issue. He never suggested more of that holistic hippie stuff; instead he offered me a pair of insoles and a prescription for Meloxicam - a med primarily used to treat arthritis. It's a drug that needs to be taken every day so that a level amount of the drug stays in your system. Rather than a one-and-done like Advil or Aleve. And with that, he deemed the appointment over and walked me to the cashier. 

I have never been treated so shittily (yes it's a word now) by a doctor in my life! He didn't listen to what I had to say, he didn't care about prior history that contributed to my ongoing foot pain, and all he wanted to do was pump me full of pills and shots... When I got home and told Hubby about the whole... adventure... he was so frustrated and angry for me; he said he was glad that he didn't go with me because he would have given that guy a piece of his mind. During my story, I said the phrase Pills and Shots so much that this guy will forever be known as Dr. Pillzenshotz when I speak of him. I imagine a little cartoon man, similar to Dr. Doofenshmirtz, running around with pockets full of drugs and syringes.

So where does that leave me now? Well, in the same place I've been for a while. I have feet that hurt me, and I need to baby them and treat them well and stretch them out. I know that my lower leg muscles contribute to this pain, so I need to treat them and stretch them too. (I gotta say, I'm not looking forward to the next few massages, because I know she's gonna make me miserable, in a beneficial way). 

Total Eclipse Vacation - Quick Recap

Okay guys, so now that I've had some time to relax and get all of the blog posts written and videos made and photos edited, how about a recap? 

• Day 1 - Flying from our city to Jonesboro, Arkansas
• Day 2 - Exploring Cairo, Ft. Defiance State Park, and dining at Lambert's 
• Day 3 - Fitz's, Crown Candy Kitchen, and The Gateway Arch 
• Day 4 - Rocky Valley Hike and a Brush with the Law
• Day 5 - Enjoying a Lazy Day at Home
• Day 6 - The Entire Reason We're Here: the Eclipse
• Day 7 - Uranus Fudge Factory & Redmon's Candy Factory 
• Day 8 - Memphis, Flying Home, and Air Sickness

This vacation was certainly not the one I planned... I had a ton more activities that I wanted to do, but thanks to that cold/sinus infection/whatever it was, we both had to scale back on what we could get done. 

What we didn't get to do:

• Take the tram to the top of the Gateway Arch
• Ride the St. Louis Light Rail from one end to the other
• View the Arch from the Mississippi Overlook across the river
• Visit St. Louis Union Station and ride the Ferris Wheel
• Walk across the Mississippi River in Memphis via Big River Crossing pedestrian Bridge
• Hike in Mount Magazine State Park or Petit Jean State Park
• Drive more of Route 66
• Spend more time in Little Rock, Arkansas

Yeah, I'm bummed about some of these (like the Arch, and the hiking), but all in all, this was still a good vacation, and frankly, I'd take a crappy day on vacation over a great day in the office every single time. I think we spent much more time driving than I first expected, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, because I love the open road, but I think that Garmin being a bitch about avoiding highways added way too much extra time that could have been spent elsewhere. 

What did we love or hate?

I was thoroughly surprised by two things... how much Hubby loved hiking, and how well he tolerated the flying. He was positively giddy about getting on a trail, and cool as a cucumber during the entire flight process. Personally, I also loved the hiking, though maybe not that specific trail, and definitely not while sick! I was really wanting to do a hike that was pretty and had a great view or payoff at the end, and this wasn't the one. But that's okay. 

Neither of us were impressed with Lambert's... it's one of those places that seem so cool when you see it on TV, but when you get there, it's blah and unappealing. Although, if I could get a dozen rolls to go, that would be amazing. 

Cairo & Fort Defiance was probably the biggest bust of the whole trip. I was expecting a cool fort and the opportunity to touch two rivers, but I got a sad tugboat and a failing Union town. There's a great YouTube video that details why Cairo has fallen, you can watch it here. 

I wish we'd tried all of the treats from Crown Candy Kitchen while we were still there. You'll see in our video (Day 3) how delicious everything was... I would have stuffed my suitcase full of those peanut butter eggs if I'd known they were that amazing. 

The weather was great - highs in the 60s kept us sweat-free and gave us reasons to cuddle together!

I, of course, hated that I forgot my freakin' Dramamine and was miserable for four hours! 

What would we do again? 

• Go to the Gateway Arch - this time with pre-purchased online reservation in hand!
• Buy more candy at Crown Candy Kitchen
• Hike at more locations
• Fly! Now that flying is a possibility, there are so many places we can explore! 

What did I learn from this trip? 

• Reservations are important! I had made a note to reserve Arch tram tickets before we left, and I forgot. And that came back to bite me in the butt. 
• Research is important! I need to review restaurant menus more closely so we don't end up in a restaurant that doesn't have food we don't really want to eat. 
• Bring the good Sudafed all the time! At home, I use generic pseudoephedrine when I'm stuffed up because I'm just chillin', not out livin' my life, so I can be a little more stuffed up and miserable. But if I'm on vacation, I don't want to be miserable! 
• Take. The. Dramamine... 'nuff said.