kybearfuzz: (Dreaming)
This past couple of weeks, I have been feeling drained. I'm blaming the seasonal changes for this one. I took a look in past entries to see if this happened last year or the year before, but I didn't make specific note of it, it seems.

In the middle of the day, I'm getting sleepy. By the time I make it home from work, I'm ready for a nap.

My running game is going well strangely, I've been rebuilding my stamina, making the distance without stopping in the middle like I have all summer. However, my lifting game has been hurting. I've been petering out before I complete the workout. I did that tonight actually, only getting halfway through my bicep workout before I gave up.

Hopefully, this is a transitional thing and I'll re-acclimate soon. I'm looking forward to the weekend already.
kybearfuzz: (Sick)
I'm flying out to DC tomorrow to "audition" for a teaching group for a work training class. I'm not worried about it. The presentation I've been assigned to give is simple and I'm knowledgeable about it. Luckily, one of my good work friends is already one this teaching group and she knows my teaching style.

Getting ready for the trip is the rough part. One of my molars has an apparent abscess. This tooth has already had a root canal and wears a crown. It started flaring up yesterday, hurting whenever I put pressure on it. I've had this before, a couple of years ago, and the oral surgeon I saw gave me antibiotics to get rid of the infection and held off doing anything more, hoping it wouldn't recur. It makes me wonder if this has been why I was so tired this week.

This morning I went to an urgent care and saw a nurse practitioner. She was bubbly, funny, and wearing braces. What I wouldn't give for her energy, she was so frenetically active. She typed about 120 words per minute on the screen as I told her what I was experiencing and what I had gotten in the past. My fear was they wouldn't just give me antibiotics and then I'd have to deal with the abscess with ibuprofen for a week. I need not have worried, she wrote me a script for amoxicillin and sent me on my way. I'll deal with the abscess when I get back.

The Cincinnati Men's Chorus Pride concert is tonight. With everything that has happened to the gay community in the past week, it certainly will be a show full of emotion and solidarity. I feel bad about not going, but with everything that has gone on, I just don't have the time to spare. I've doing laundry, packing, and cleaning house all day before I leave.

I'm looking forward to the Pride parade next weekend.

Mark at 43

Jan. 5th, 2016 08:56 pm
kybearfuzz: (Mark at 43)
I won't lie. Today started out pretty crappy.

Last night, my foot started hurting and I suspected a gout flare up. So in the middle of the night, I got up and took the meds. I was so beat this morning that I slept in. The twin called and woke me to wish me a happy birthday. I'm sure I sounded terrible. I wished him one back and got up. I didn't get into the office until late. I have tons of vacation time, so this isn't really an issue. However, the foot didn't feel better all day, so I spent most of it hobbling around.

Mark at 43
Me at 43

My phone vibrated all day with birthday wishes from friends and family, mostly through Facebook notifications. It was definitely a pick-me-up as I enjoyed reading the messages, the funny pictures, the flirting from handsome bears, etc.

I was invited to go to a bear dinner tonight, but I was so beat that I didn't want to drive across town this evening, I begged off. I got home and took a nap. Thankfully, my foot started feeling better this evening. Instead of sitting at home, I took myself out for dinner, followed by cheesecake (oh, my waistline). I went to Friday's just down the road from the house and enjoyed it.

My waiter was a cute, short otter named Steven with big blue eyes and a longish brown beard. I admire anyone who waits table for a living, as it is overall a very difficult job, having done it myself during my freshman year in college. Being polite to everyone, even on your worst day, is a skill. I'm sure Steven was have a decent night and he took good care of me. If only I could have reciprocated (okay, that was a tad pervy). I did the next best thing and left him a 40% cash tip. After he took the check up, he stopped by a second time and thanked me again for coming in. So, I made someone feel a bit better tonight. It's a good self-gift I think.

The night is nearly done and I'm looking forward to getting a good night's sleep tonight.
kybearfuzz: (Bag Hag)
On Sunday, I went to the track. It was a beautiful day, so I went for a walk in the morning. I also wanted to test to see how well my right foot was healing. Walking didn't hurt, but I needed to see if I could run. So I tried to jog the straightaways on the track. I looked like a trotting duck and my ankle was not happy with it. I tried to run a few more times to see if I could work the soreness out. Again, no real luck.

At this point, I decided to go to the urgent care that day to have my ankle looked at, worried that I may have a hairline fracture of something. The urgent care was good, my wait wasn't look, and I was fortunate enough to be seen by a beautiful and fit daddy bear. Seriously, he was a hottie and his kind demeanor just amplified his looks for me.

He felt around on my ankle and decided to get an in-house x-ray. The x-rays showed no break, so he slapped an air boot on my right ankle, told me to take ibuprofen for pain, and stated I wasn't to do anything beyond walking for a week. The boot is ill-fitting and sucks, so I'm wearing it sparingly, alternating it with a compression bandage (my alternate choice for the boot in the doc's office).

Today, my ankle hurt even worse. The boot presses on the sore parts instead of cushioning it. So I made an appointment with an orthopedist on Friday to see what he'll say. Hopefully, I'll get a cortisone shot to fix this faster as I'm getting tired of the hobbling.

On the bright side, it rained and stormed today, so softball games were canceled and I won't miss tonight's games. I hope to be better by next week.
kybearfuzz: (Softball Catcher)
So the Saturday before last, I went for a run. And it was a good one. I did the full 3.2 miles and felt incredible after. No pain, no problems. I went to the movies afterward with the friend and all was well.

Sunday, I started feeling some aches in my foot. I just thought this was the after effect of muscles tightening. By Monday morning I was hobbling. The top of my foot was sore as possible. It got so bad by Tuesday that I called off softball, which just sucked, as softball is equal parts cardio and social activity for me.

I made it through work and continued to limp all week. Finally I found the name and cause of the pain online. It's called "extensor tendonitis," where over-tightening the laces on my running shoes irritated the tendons on the top of my foot. The symptoms were exactly the same and the cause was apparent given the onset of the pain. The treatment: rest, ice, ibuprofen.

The pain on the top of my foot finally faded over the weekend, only to move to my ankle. You see, while I was limping, I was putting pressure on my heel to steady myself and basically hurt something else. So I've been dealing with that this week.

I had to call off softball for a second week now. Today was the first day I actually could walk in a straight line without wincing, limping, or cursing. I thought about taping it up and going, but I just can't take the chance I'd be asked to play and hurting it again when I'm so close to recovery. The guilt is settling in, because I know my captain was running out of players tonight due to other injuries and people out of town.

Getting old is a pain.

Tell me something fun and light-hearted.
kybearfuzz: (Opus Flying)
After work and workout, I was settling in on the couch, eating some leftovers for dinner. Murphy was still lethargic, but vocal and I almost thought he was better. When he didn't try to beg for some of my dinner, I grew even more concerned. His mews were sad and desperate almost and he would do this when I was out of sight of him. He literally was almost passing out wherever he was.

So I called the vet and the tech said they wouldn't comment on him unless they saw him. Fine. I threw on some jeans and shoes, picked up Murphy who almost went ragdoll-limp in my arms and put him in his carrier, and raced to the vet who closed in an hour. Murphy meowed a bit more in the car and then he'd quit, which completely freaked me out as I wasn't sure he was unconscious or worse. He'd come to again and make a little noise.

Luckily, my vet is only 10 minutes away depending on the lights, so we got there fast. I explained that I was there on Friday to get his shots and an exam and that his behavior had changed drastically. The little bitch behind the counter just asked, "will that be cash, check or charge?" Ummmm... you unfeeling little creep, I wanted to say, but I just glared at her and said "charge..."

I sat down to a crowded waiting room with Murphy in his carrier in my lap. I opened the door to pet him and he didn't have the energy to even try to get out of it. With the abundance of dogs in the area, I was surprised he wasn't freaking out more.

More and more people kept pouring in, including a bleached-blond, tube top-wearing, spare tire and near toothless chick and her brood with a dog. Her half-naked brat began roaming the waiting area looking at all the pets.

He finally got to me and asked "Do you have a dog or a cat in there?"
"It's a cat," I said.
"What's wrong with him?" he asked.
"He's sick."
"Why?" he inquired.
"Well, that's why I'm here," I sternly responded, wishing his white-trash mommy would come and get her welfare-check child away from me.

Little, dirty barefoot Johnny finally left me and went crawling all over the chairs and area dividers. After a large white pitbull showed up, I was getting antsy as his owners didn't have good control over him. After an hour, they called me to an exam room at last.

The tech weighed Murphy who had lost two pounds in three days. I told her I recalled him eating for the last time on Friday. With Maggie in the house, I think she was eating his treats when I wasn't looking, but I was assuming Murphy was eating them. I explained to the tech that my biggest proof of a grand problem was right in front of her. Murphy is an absolute nervous terror at the vet usually. When I got him out of the carrier this time, he was barely moving, making no noise, and was practically catatonic.

The vet eventually checked him, told me he was dehydrated and drew blood to check for things. In looking at the x-rays on Friday and based on his behavior, she recommended I take him to vet ER a couple of exits away as the mass appeared to be more than fatty tissue.

At this point, I was nearly in tears, as I feared I knew how this evening was going to end, but I held it together. I paid my bill, took the blood they drew with me along with his medical records, and drove Murphy to the ER. My vet called ahead with their diagnosis so far.

Like any ER, they were busy. I filled out the necessary paperwork and they checked the blood samples. I sat with Murphy in an exam room for a couple of hours. I kept petting him, but he was not really responding to any stimulus. I was and am worried that I wasn't going to see him again. Eventually, the vet showed up and said he suspects that mass is actually an enlarged spleen and that it was causing multiple issues, including kidney problems. They were going to keep Murphy tonight, put him on fluids, and the internal medicine vet will confirm the diagnosis tomorrow.

If it is the spleen, they can remove it and he will hopefully get better and I will have several more years with my furry feline buddy. I am supposed to be in DC next week, but I may have to see about skipping that as I don't have anyone to take care of Murphy if he has surgery. I may be able to have him boarded at the vet if necessary.

Needless to say, I'm home very late and very drained. I'm hoping for good news tomorrow.
kybearfuzz: (Softball Catcher)
After I got home last night from softball, I took a hot shower and put more Ben Gay on my aching calf. The smell of menthol filled my bedroom, which naturally got the cats very curious, so they were all over me as I was climbing into bed.

I had the TV on and watched a bit of "Family Guy" before going to sleep. I was still a bit keyed up from the game. A commercial came on for "Cougar Life" or cougarlife dot com or something similar. It had a beautiful blond lady, in her late 30's or 40's going around in a restaurant as she overheard these beautiful young 20-something girls basically dissing young men or such. With each situation, she'd give a fun little quip that was snarky and comical. The one that caught my attention was:

Beautiful girl snidely says to her date with an air of disappointment, "Oh... you're a computer geek..."

To which, the blonde cougar replies, "... and you fold sweaters for a living, honey..."

It was like Anatasia Beaverhausen was alive and well and trolling the bar for fresh meat.

After the show was over, I went to sleep. I woke up this morning with a VERY sore calf as the muscle had tightened up overnight.

I took another hot shower to loosen it up and managed to get dressed though getting that right sock on was a trick! Hopefully with a bit more stretching, it'll be fine by the end of the day.
kybearfuzz: (Workout)
After work on Friday, I changed into my running clothes and went to the local park to get in a run. Since I had skipped a run earlier this week, I wanted to get in a little bit more to make up for it. So I ran six miles instead of four. My ankle was a little "twingy" when I started but it worked itself away after my first lap. I completed the six miles, did a walking cool-down lap, and then did a bit of stretching before heading home.

The next morning I started paying dearly for that run.

I tried to get out of bed and found my ankle was seized up, very sore to where I couldn't bend it or put much pressure on it. I thought I stretched enough, but obviously didn't. So I managed to get through the day hobbling around. I didn't work out. Sunday, it was TIGHT! It was worse than Saturday. I went ahead and worked out -- chest and shoulders and abs. Lots of push-ups. The workout helped stretch my ankle to help it along.

I took it fairly easy this weekend. This morning, it's better, but not perfect.

I blame myself, but also my running shoes. I think they're worn down and I need new ones.

And I am happy to be off today. One more day of recovery
kybearfuzz: (Bill the Cat)
Today was the first time in my life I've ever worn a hospital gown.

My first colonoscopy was today. Given the loss of my older brothers in the last couple of years to cancer, my doctor wanted a precautionary look-see to make sure things were [edit: NOT] going wrong inside.

Yesterday's prep was not fun. You never miss eating solid food until you're told you can't have it. So after a day long diet of beef broth, popsicles, and apple juice, I started drinking the "GoLytley" solution -- 8 oz every 15 minutes for four hours. It doesn't necessarily taste bad, but it has an odd viscosity and a weird after-taste. You get sick of it quickly. The effects are fairly immediate, but not as bad as I had been told. I expected needing a toilet with seat belts and a roll bar, but I managed without them. By the end of the night, I'd evacuated everything I'd eaten since 1973 and my colon was pretty much back to its showroom specifications.

This morning, Brian ([ profile] cincycub) picked me up and drove me to the doctor's office. After some paperwork, the nurses took me to the back to change and get my IV put in. After 20 minutes, they wheeled me back to the exam room. It wasn't as technical as I expected, but I admit I freaked a bit when I saw the long tube with graduated lines on it -- it was six feet long. I didn't ask because I figured I knew where THAT was going.

The nurse put me on my side, injected something into the IV and I was out in seconds. I woke up in what felt like five minutes. All done. I remember asking a few questions, but I don't recall what they were. I don't remember being wheeled back into the staging area, but I remember being there and having the hiccups (one of the other side-effects of the medication). I don't recall getting dressed. I do remember being told that things were fine, nothing unusual found. I don't recall walking out of the building, but remember getting into Brian's car. I have a hazy memory of us driving to T.G.I.Friday's for lunch and from there my memory seems pretty solid.

The drug they use is called Versed, which is a sedative with a side-effect of some memory loss. I got home and took a nap, then woke up and ate cheesecake.

The best news is that nothing was wrong. And the cheesecake was fantastic. Big hugs to Brian, I really appreciate everything. :)


kybearfuzz: (Default)

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