The no-blogging trend of the past week will continue into this next week (Is it me or do I sound like a weather-woman here?), primarily because I begin a new rotation on Monday and also because I will be taking my test one week from today. Starting today, all free time equals study time, with a little time set aside for regression to child-like behaviors.
Thankfully, I was never a bed-wetter.
This past week was interesting. Interesting because I stayed the night with a Physician Assistant that worked in the clinic where I was rotating in order to save time and gas. Interesting because a predicted-but-not-yet-here winter storm caused rescheduling of a test and cancellation of an academic lecture series I was supposed to attend this weekend. Interesting because of possible new developments in the Evans’ household. Interesting because even though it was sixty-degrees on Wednesday, Mother Nature had a mood swing and dumped a nice layer of ice on us, followed by six-to-seven inches of snow.
I had the fortune of having this past Monday off, mainly because I volunteered to work two days at our school-sponsored clinic in December when I was on vacation. In exchange, I was able to choose a day to take off in January. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect, and I utilized the time to (drumroll please…) study.
On Tuesday, I packed up my stuff for an intended two-night stay at the home of the PA who also works in the clinic. On nursing home days, she and I would work together most of the day while the doctor attended meetings and whatever else, and we sort-of bonded in this period. In an effort to help reduce my commute and maximize study time, she invited me to stay at her house for a couple of days. Though hesitant, I couldn’t resist on grounds of practicality. After all, Jerm and I are on a newly strict budget, and the gas savings alone were tempting enough.
That evening, we miraculously finished clinic earlier than any day in the entire month, but the PA still had some work to do before we could head to her house. I thought I would use the time to run to the local Dollar Store to pick up some toothpaste, and upon mentioning this to her, she asked if I would stop by the grocery store to pick up a few groceries. While I agreed and took her money and shopping list willingly, I was irritated beyond words. (Well, actually, I had more than a few choice words to say about it. I had accepted her offer to save time, not to run her freaking errands!) By the time I circled the foreign grocery store a million times looking for the things she needed, twenty minutes had been wasted. Add another twenty-minutes of increasing frustration waiting in line, and you get, “I could have freaking been home by now!” Though I partially wanted to whimper and curl up in the fetal position, I couldn’t help but recognize the humor of the situation. It was funny in an incredulous, twisted humor, of-course-this-would-happen-to-me kind of way. And besides, what else could I do?
As it turned out, accepting her offer turned out to be a great idea. She had generously cleaned up her office for me to use, and I was able to hibernate and study the rest of the evening. At one point, I started to get deliriously tired (you know, the tired where your eye lids start to get really heavy and the words you read don’t make sense because you are stuck think-dreaming somewhere between consciousness and sleep), but I snapped out of it, fixed some tea, and got back to work. If I were at home, I would have justified not studying with tiredness which would have resulted in an unnecessary nap or some mindless television time. (Dang American Idol auditions suck me in every time…) In addition, the PA is a really cool person, and we have some common interests. I guess that picking up her groceries was the least I could do for a night’s stay and a warm shower.
Wednesday was nursing home day, and I had mentally prepared myself for the longevity. However, I received a phone call from a school official early in the day telling me that our test for the upcoming Friday had been rescheduled secondary to forecasted inclement weather, and that I was to arrive at the school by three pm that day to take it. While I had enjoyed my nursing home experiences, this was an absolute gift. I also was instructed that the academic conferences we were expected to attend for the upcoming weekend had transitioned from mandatory to optional. I cannot explain how fortunate and wonderful this is. While I did work a half-day on Thursday, these changes have bought me wonderful and glorious time.
Time to study , which is great considering that I study best when I have long blocks of time to focus on the subject matter at hand.
Time to blog, which is great because I haven’t all week. (and likely will not until after next Saturday...)
Here's lifting my orange juice glass (no vodka or champagne, unfortunately..)to a safe and productive week!
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
IN A NUTSHELL
This past month, I’ve had the wonderful opportunity to work ten-plus hour workdays without the luxury of a lunch break. I do take a lunch, but each day I quickly shove it down the gullet in few minute intervals between patients. I also keep a few pretzels or almonds in my white coat to sneak whenever my stomach protests. By the end of the day, my stomach and my feet are pretty pissed at me. Optimism (I truly wouldn’t rather be doing anything else!) and pep talks have helped significantly, not to mention that this upcoming week is my last week. Woo-hoo!
Remember when I took boards way the heck back in June? Well, I had a freak-out moment/epiphany in December and decided that I needed to take another set of board exams that I originally chose not to take. In short, there are two versions of the test. I took the one required by my school, though there is another one that the allopathic/M.D. students take. It could potentially increase my residency options, thus I am slaving away each weeknight (after my long day) and weekend as I once again have to pass on much more preferable and fun activities to study. Clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk. (That’s the sound of my head banging on my desk.)
When Jerm and I considered home-ownership in our neighborhood, little did we know that the picket fence came with a lovely homeowners’ association (HOA). If you aren't familiar with the term, it is an organization that upholds the rules and regulations (so eloquently coined "covenants") of the neighborhood and provides funding for maintenance that the city does not otherwise provide (funding provided via an annual fee that each household is expected to pay). As of last Tuesday (the 19th), our Christmas lights were still up. Combine an HOA with a social networking site (Facebook), and you get lovely messages such as these:
“I know that the weather is not the best and the forecast is more cold. But a reminder that our Holiday decorations need to be down soon per the covenants.”
“Just another reminder: today being the 18th it is now a violation of our covenants if you still have Holiday decorations and lights still up... Please pass this on to your neighbor if they still have them up. Shelli will be out soon for inspections…”
Apparently, it is okay to put Christmas lights up a month before the holiday but entirely unacceptable to keep them up once January rolls around. In the midst of freezing weather, a thirty-five minute one-way commute, and long workdays, I am glad to have the HOA to help keep my priorities straight. Thanks, HO! I mean HOA...
On a final note, Wednesdays of this month have been entirely devoted to nursing home/hospice care. My experience has been an interesting and humbling one. Many of the patients are demented (The individual on the right, for example, insisted that maintenance stole his scooter. Notice what he's sitting on?) and completely dependent on others for daily activities of living that you or I wouldn't think twice about doing ourselves. I took this picture (not sure if it's legit, but I don't think there are any confidentiality issues here) because it is an image that I have seen often in the few days that I have spent at the nursing home.
I am reminded that no matter how bad my feet hurt or how painfully hungry I am at the end of the day, or how miserable I am from staring at a book hours and hours upon end without seemingly learning a single thing, I have my health, the company of loved-ones, and I am able to go outside whenever I want.
Life is good.
Remember when I took boards way the heck back in June? Well, I had a freak-out moment/epiphany in December and decided that I needed to take another set of board exams that I originally chose not to take. In short, there are two versions of the test. I took the one required by my school, though there is another one that the allopathic/M.D. students take. It could potentially increase my residency options, thus I am slaving away each weeknight (after my long day) and weekend as I once again have to pass on much more preferable and fun activities to study. Clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk, clunk. (That’s the sound of my head banging on my desk.)
When Jerm and I considered home-ownership in our neighborhood, little did we know that the picket fence came with a lovely homeowners’ association (HOA). If you aren't familiar with the term, it is an organization that upholds the rules and regulations (so eloquently coined "covenants") of the neighborhood and provides funding for maintenance that the city does not otherwise provide (funding provided via an annual fee that each household is expected to pay). As of last Tuesday (the 19th), our Christmas lights were still up. Combine an HOA with a social networking site (Facebook), and you get lovely messages such as these:
“I know that the weather is not the best and the forecast is more cold. But a reminder that our Holiday decorations need to be down soon per the covenants.”
“Just another reminder: today being the 18th it is now a violation of our covenants if you still have Holiday decorations and lights still up... Please pass this on to your neighbor if they still have them up. Shelli will be out soon for inspections…”
Apparently, it is okay to put Christmas lights up a month before the holiday but entirely unacceptable to keep them up once January rolls around. In the midst of freezing weather, a thirty-five minute one-way commute, and long workdays, I am glad to have the HOA to help keep my priorities straight. Thanks, HO! I mean HOA...
On a final note, Wednesdays of this month have been entirely devoted to nursing home/hospice care. My experience has been an interesting and humbling one. Many of the patients are demented (The individual on the right, for example, insisted that maintenance stole his scooter. Notice what he's sitting on?) and completely dependent on others for daily activities of living that you or I wouldn't think twice about doing ourselves. I took this picture (not sure if it's legit, but I don't think there are any confidentiality issues here) because it is an image that I have seen often in the few days that I have spent at the nursing home.
I am reminded that no matter how bad my feet hurt or how painfully hungry I am at the end of the day, or how miserable I am from staring at a book hours and hours upon end without seemingly learning a single thing, I have my health, the company of loved-ones, and I am able to go outside whenever I want.
Life is good.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
AD-LIB
Thought I’d post this for all of you who are trying to get a jump-start on next year’s Christmas shopping. (You’re welcome.)
With six easily accessible and extremely Magic Cling-y secure pockets, “Will you hold my man-purse while I use the restroom?” is a phrase of the past. That’s right, folks, the Casual Jack in your life can carry everything he needs on his person and avoid the dreaded and stigmatized accessory that has made him the subject of mockery of many casual conversations.
But that’s not all.
These also come with a convenient commodity that’ll make Casual Jack Sr. and all of Casual Jack’s buddies place these glorified sweatpants at the top of their Christmas/Birthday/Buy Me a Present for No-reason lists: an easy-access zipper fly. (Insert Devo’s “Whip It” as background music here) Perhaps the ad says it best: “No more droppin’ your drawers just to do numero uno!” (Hi-lighted and bracketed for emphasis. You can’t make this stuff up!) Now Casual Jack can recover valuable time and get back to more important things in life. Like World of Warcraft or the multiple football games that are gracing the flatscreen.
Worried that these will itch and scratch like those awful department store brands? Have no fear, because these high quality digs are proclaimed to be “Hefty, Warm, Durable, and Soft as a Kitten" (Also underlined for your viewing pleasure) Rest assured that no actual kittens were harmed in the making of these machine-washable , elastic waistbanded gems, however.
Quite frankly, the only thing missing from these precious cargos is builit-in underwear and a “numero dos” zipper. But I bet this is where the company drew the line.
After all, these pockets aren’t the only matter in the universe with Magic Cling properties if you know what I mean.
**On a more serious note. One week ago, an earthquake devastated the country of Haiti, demolishing the infrastructure of many cities, killing hundreds of thousands, and injuring and displacing millions more. I recently learned that before the disaster, the country only had 3 doctors for every 10,000 residents. At this time, resources are extremely limited and the people are suffering greatly. If you haven’t already, please consider donating a small amount to an organization to help relief efforts.
HERE is a site that provides a list with many options for donation, and I have listed a few other convenient donation options from the site as well.
Text "Haiti" to 90999 to donate $10 to the American Red Cross relief efforts
Text HAITI to 864833 to donate $5 to United Way Worldwide's disaster fund for long-term recovery.
With six easily accessible and extremely Magic Cling-y secure pockets, “Will you hold my man-purse while I use the restroom?” is a phrase of the past. That’s right, folks, the Casual Jack in your life can carry everything he needs on his person and avoid the dreaded and stigmatized accessory that has made him the subject of mockery of many casual conversations.
But that’s not all.
These also come with a convenient commodity that’ll make Casual Jack Sr. and all of Casual Jack’s buddies place these glorified sweatpants at the top of their Christmas/Birthday/Buy Me a Present for No-reason lists: an easy-access zipper fly. (Insert Devo’s “Whip It” as background music here) Perhaps the ad says it best: “No more droppin’ your drawers just to do numero uno!” (Hi-lighted and bracketed for emphasis. You can’t make this stuff up!) Now Casual Jack can recover valuable time and get back to more important things in life. Like World of Warcraft or the multiple football games that are gracing the flatscreen.
Worried that these will itch and scratch like those awful department store brands? Have no fear, because these high quality digs are proclaimed to be “Hefty, Warm, Durable, and Soft as a Kitten" (Also underlined for your viewing pleasure) Rest assured that no actual kittens were harmed in the making of these machine-washable , elastic waistbanded gems, however.
Quite frankly, the only thing missing from these precious cargos is builit-in underwear and a “numero dos” zipper. But I bet this is where the company drew the line.
After all, these pockets aren’t the only matter in the universe with Magic Cling properties if you know what I mean.
**On a more serious note. One week ago, an earthquake devastated the country of Haiti, demolishing the infrastructure of many cities, killing hundreds of thousands, and injuring and displacing millions more. I recently learned that before the disaster, the country only had 3 doctors for every 10,000 residents. At this time, resources are extremely limited and the people are suffering greatly. If you haven’t already, please consider donating a small amount to an organization to help relief efforts.
HERE is a site that provides a list with many options for donation, and I have listed a few other convenient donation options from the site as well.
Text "Haiti" to 90999 to donate $10 to the American Red Cross relief efforts
- Tried and true. You will receive a confirmation via text to let you know that the $10 will be charged to your next phone bill.
Text HAITI to 864833 to donate $5 to United Way Worldwide's disaster fund for long-term recovery.
Thursday, January 14, 2010
THAT'S MY MAN
I tried to get Jerm to do a cameo piece on the blog, but I am interpreting his silence on the matter as a polite refusal. It was a risk anyhow, considering that he started a blog several months ago and his second and last ever blog was titled “Sharting to the Oldies”.
Yep, that’s my man.
In spite of its totally refined and tasteful title, the blog was insightful and very pertinent to some drastic changes that are taking place in our life right now. A specific excerpt comes to mind:
“Today is one of those days where I wonder how I even got into the auditing biz. I'm looking out the window thinking how cool it would be to jump and free fall til about 5 o'clock. I would then land on my feet, go for a quick jog, and then go on enjoying life.”
Except for the humorous piece about going for a quick jog ( nothing like a good work-out in the middle of a fantasy...), his revelation is something that he’s been saying over and over for the past year or so: it’s time to experiment with a career change.
More specifically, it’s time to experiment with a career change from accounting to teaching.
So.
As of last Friday, Jerm quit his secure job with a prominent accounting firm to pursue a career that is currently experiencing a hiring-freeze and is even asking for volunteer substitutes (at least in our state).
Yep, that’s my man.
I’m not going to lie – this past month has been a little bumpy and tearful at times. I have been supportive but not without reservations. After all, I am a student who is required to have medical insurance, and we just purchased our first home. Though I like to promote a cool, laid-back exterior, I am sometimes more high-strung than I like to admit, especially during times of dramatic change and/or acclimation (hellooooo, med school!).
As much as I’ve had my reservations and concerns, however, I think it is time to give Jerm some credit. We had discussed the career change as a potential option in the distant future (little did I know!), and he stepped up to the plate early last year and began the process of attaining his alternative teaching certifications in Math and Business. As soon as we agreed that it would be best for him to quit his job to gain some experience in a classroom-setting, he immediately applied for substitute and tutoring positions at local schools and learning centers.
He had his first substituting experience today and will have his second tomorrow. (It was a computer class and his responsibilities were quite minimal, but I think he enjoyed it. He will be “teaching” a junior high vocal class tomorrow, which should be very interesting.) In addition, he also discovered that he has been hired for a twelve week substitute position while a teacher is on maternity leave, which is truly wonderful.
My heart and respiratory rates are slowly returning to normal.
Earlier this week, Jerm had a few days off. Like a good and doting househusband (as I like to now call him), he kindly washed some dishes, washed and folded a few loads of laundry, and he even took down our tree and holiday stuff. At one point, I texted him to ask how things were going, only to receive this response:
Yep, that’s my man.
Yep, that’s my man.
In spite of its totally refined and tasteful title, the blog was insightful and very pertinent to some drastic changes that are taking place in our life right now. A specific excerpt comes to mind:
“Today is one of those days where I wonder how I even got into the auditing biz. I'm looking out the window thinking how cool it would be to jump and free fall til about 5 o'clock. I would then land on my feet, go for a quick jog, and then go on enjoying life.”
Except for the humorous piece about going for a quick jog ( nothing like a good work-out in the middle of a fantasy...), his revelation is something that he’s been saying over and over for the past year or so: it’s time to experiment with a career change.
More specifically, it’s time to experiment with a career change from accounting to teaching.
So.
As of last Friday, Jerm quit his secure job with a prominent accounting firm to pursue a career that is currently experiencing a hiring-freeze and is even asking for volunteer substitutes (at least in our state).
Yep, that’s my man.
I’m not going to lie – this past month has been a little bumpy and tearful at times. I have been supportive but not without reservations. After all, I am a student who is required to have medical insurance, and we just purchased our first home. Though I like to promote a cool, laid-back exterior, I am sometimes more high-strung than I like to admit, especially during times of dramatic change and/or acclimation (hellooooo, med school!).
As much as I’ve had my reservations and concerns, however, I think it is time to give Jerm some credit. We had discussed the career change as a potential option in the distant future (little did I know!), and he stepped up to the plate early last year and began the process of attaining his alternative teaching certifications in Math and Business. As soon as we agreed that it would be best for him to quit his job to gain some experience in a classroom-setting, he immediately applied for substitute and tutoring positions at local schools and learning centers.
He had his first substituting experience today and will have his second tomorrow. (It was a computer class and his responsibilities were quite minimal, but I think he enjoyed it. He will be “teaching” a junior high vocal class tomorrow, which should be very interesting.) In addition, he also discovered that he has been hired for a twelve week substitute position while a teacher is on maternity leave, which is truly wonderful.
My heart and respiratory rates are slowly returning to normal.
Earlier this week, Jerm had a few days off. Like a good and doting househusband (as I like to now call him), he kindly washed some dishes, washed and folded a few loads of laundry, and he even took down our tree and holiday stuff. At one point, I texted him to ask how things were going, only to receive this response:
“Pretty good. Watched Wendy Wiliams, Ellen, the Today Show, and now Teen Mom. Did some dishes, took the tree down, and switched some laundry out. I think I am growing a vagina…”
Yep, that’s my man.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
FAUX LABOR PAINS
After experiencing four days of intense intermittent pain and nausea, I have a newfound appreciation for labor. I may have never given birth, but I have witnessed labor at its peak as the pain waxes and wanes in an episodic fashion. I imagine that I have looked very similar to the women I’ve witnessed as my face scrunches up and contorts with each agonizing episode of pain, followed by a long exhale and wash of relief as it subsides. Heck, I’ve even thrown in a few hoo hoo heeees for good measure.
I attempted to go to work on Thursday and managed to work a half-day with a stick-on heating pad under my clothing and moments of rest. My facilitating physician recommended that I take the second half of the day off to go visit my physician. I took his advice and decided that I could no longer let the pain torture me. I had to see if this kidney stone was going to pass or if something else would need to be done.
I had a CT scan that evening and found out that my kidney stone was, in fact, an alleged kidney stone. A previous urine analysis revealed blood and infectious cells, and the pain pattern was similar to a kidney stone. However, the CT revealed an accumulation of fluid in my abdominal cavity on the left side. The fluid was most likely caused by a rupture of an ovarian cyst.
Ovarian cysts are a normal part of the menstrual process and do not usually cause problems. Sometimes, however, a cyst may keep accumulating fluid or a blood vessel in the wall of the cyst may rupture, leading to further accumulation of blood in the cyst. If the blood-filled cyst becomes large enough, it can rupture and blood will enter the abdominal cavity, leading to severe pain.
Exquisite and seemingly unbearable pain, in fact.
I learned about ovarian cysts in one of my medical school classes, but I have never seen it present itself in a clinical setting. Now that I’ve had the experience, I realize that it is very easy to underestimate pain when you are pain-free. Hopefully, I will be a better physician because of it.
My faux pregnancy might not have only originated from holiday gluttony. As it turns out, bloating and weight gain is also a sign of an ovarian cyst. I have not had an appetite to eat more than one meal each day this week, and I am still just as bloated as I was on Monday.
I may have never given birth, but I will own it like a champ when it happens. (Epidural? Yes, please!) After all, I’ll at least be getting the prize of a baby for all of the endurance of pain.
Which leads me to a t-shirt idea: “I had a ruptured ovarian cyst and all I got was this stupid t-shirt.”
There’s no way that I’d wear a shirt like that in public, though.
Friday, January 8, 2010
SNEAKY TERRIER
Me: Hey, Maisie.
Maisie: Yes, Mom?
Me: Where is your sister?
Maisie: (in a faint whisper) Well, Mom, I wasn't going to say anything, but I think there is something you need to know about Lucy.
Me: What do you mean?
Maisie: Don't tell her that I told you this, but she's been going into the pantry when you aren't looking and stealing a lot of treats.
Me: Are you serious?
Maisie: That's what she is doing right now!
(Some pictures that I took before the video)
Me: What do you have to say for yourself, little girl?
Lucy: Hey. Hey, Mom. Guess what?
Me: What?
Maisie: Yes, Mom?
Me: Where is your sister?
Maisie: (in a faint whisper) Well, Mom, I wasn't going to say anything, but I think there is something you need to know about Lucy.
Me: What do you mean?
Maisie: Don't tell her that I told you this, but she's been going into the pantry when you aren't looking and stealing a lot of treats.
Me: Are you serious?Maisie: That's what she is doing right now!
(Some pictures that I took before the video)
Me: What do you have to say for yourself, little girl?
Lucy: Hey. Hey, Mom. Guess what?
Me: What?
Lucy: I like your hair today.
Monday, January 4, 2010
NEW THINGS IN THE NEW YEAR
We are only six days into 2010, and it has already been quite a new year.
This past Monday, I started a new rotation at a rural clinic here in OK. Fortunately, it is only about an hour drive from home and so I am able to drive and enjoy the comfort of my own bed each night. I will never again underestimate the value of my own bed after sleeping in a hospital bed for an entire month.
Unfortunately, all of the reckless eating -- sans exercise-- since Thanksgiving has caught up with me. I have been wearing the same emergency pair of jeans (“fat” jeans, if you will) for the past month as denial and I have gladly and excessively partaken in all of the vacation and holiday fare. (By the way, if you are the family member that made the chocolate covered peanut cluster that Jerm brought home from the family get-together, I would like the recipe….in three months.)
In addition to my fat jeans, I have also experienced “faux pregnancy”, a phenomenon that occurs every time my gluttonous ways get the best of me. I like to stretch out my distended stomach as far as it will go and say to Jerm, “See, this is what it will look like when I am pregnant!” He gets holy crap saucer eyes every time, though I’m not sure if it it’s because I can look six months pregnant without actually being pregnant or if it’s because I follow up with, “It’s all downhill from here, buddy!”.
Faux pregnancy took on a new relevance this past Monday. I was extremely bloated and looking at least four months pregnant without trying. I spent the early half of my day self-conscious, cursing myself for wearing the shirt that I had chosen and trying to suck in whenever I remembered. I thought maybe I was being overly girly, analytical, vain, self-conscious, or whatever behaviorally descriptive word you would like to insert here. That is, until an elderly female patient, showing her Fixodent-proof I’ve-figured-out-your-secret smile punched me in the face with these five words: “How far along are you?”
Um, excuse me? Or, rather – what the hell!
Even though I had been obsessing about looking pregnant, her words threw me completely off-guard. I scrambled to find the words to reply, even considering lying for a split second and admitting to being pregnant. I am not sure if it was the constipation-red color of my face or the awkward silence that followed, but she quickly recovered with, “How far along are you in your schooling?”
This is really funny in reflection, not to mention a good motivator to hit the gym.
And I could hit the gym, if it weren’t for yet another new and fun experience that began yesterday morning.
At first, I thought maybe the sharp, stabbing pain on my left side was a passing gas bubble. (I question whether it is lady-like and bloggable to admit this, but the medical field has desensitized me enough to not care that much.) The pain struck and then subsided, following this pattern as each episode returned with a greater fury. The nature of the pain and the fact that it was only on my left-side meant that it could only be one thing: urolithiasis.
In laymen's term, urolithiasis translates into a kidney stone. And let me tell you, kidney stones are not very fun. I have spent the past two days at home in bed because I can barely stand-up without pain and feeling nauseated. The unfortunate thing about kidney stones is that most of them will pass with time. And even more unfortunate is the fact that the time of passage correlates to the size of the kidney stone. I visited my doctor today and confirmed that the appropriate course of action is one I've been taking since the onset of the pain: drink lots of fluid and wait.
I am praying that it passes soon. You know, so I can get on the ball and start getting rid of my faux pregnancy.
Oh yeah, and to be pain free. : )
This past Monday, I started a new rotation at a rural clinic here in OK. Fortunately, it is only about an hour drive from home and so I am able to drive and enjoy the comfort of my own bed each night. I will never again underestimate the value of my own bed after sleeping in a hospital bed for an entire month.
Unfortunately, all of the reckless eating -- sans exercise-- since Thanksgiving has caught up with me. I have been wearing the same emergency pair of jeans (“fat” jeans, if you will) for the past month as denial and I have gladly and excessively partaken in all of the vacation and holiday fare. (By the way, if you are the family member that made the chocolate covered peanut cluster that Jerm brought home from the family get-together, I would like the recipe….in three months.)
In addition to my fat jeans, I have also experienced “faux pregnancy”, a phenomenon that occurs every time my gluttonous ways get the best of me. I like to stretch out my distended stomach as far as it will go and say to Jerm, “See, this is what it will look like when I am pregnant!” He gets holy crap saucer eyes every time, though I’m not sure if it it’s because I can look six months pregnant without actually being pregnant or if it’s because I follow up with, “It’s all downhill from here, buddy!”.
Faux pregnancy took on a new relevance this past Monday. I was extremely bloated and looking at least four months pregnant without trying. I spent the early half of my day self-conscious, cursing myself for wearing the shirt that I had chosen and trying to suck in whenever I remembered. I thought maybe I was being overly girly, analytical, vain, self-conscious, or whatever behaviorally descriptive word you would like to insert here. That is, until an elderly female patient, showing her Fixodent-proof I’ve-figured-out-your-secret smile punched me in the face with these five words: “How far along are you?”
Um, excuse me? Or, rather – what the hell!
Even though I had been obsessing about looking pregnant, her words threw me completely off-guard. I scrambled to find the words to reply, even considering lying for a split second and admitting to being pregnant. I am not sure if it was the constipation-red color of my face or the awkward silence that followed, but she quickly recovered with, “How far along are you in your schooling?”
This is really funny in reflection, not to mention a good motivator to hit the gym.
And I could hit the gym, if it weren’t for yet another new and fun experience that began yesterday morning.
At first, I thought maybe the sharp, stabbing pain on my left side was a passing gas bubble. (I question whether it is lady-like and bloggable to admit this, but the medical field has desensitized me enough to not care that much.) The pain struck and then subsided, following this pattern as each episode returned with a greater fury. The nature of the pain and the fact that it was only on my left-side meant that it could only be one thing: urolithiasis.
In laymen's term, urolithiasis translates into a kidney stone. And let me tell you, kidney stones are not very fun. I have spent the past two days at home in bed because I can barely stand-up without pain and feeling nauseated. The unfortunate thing about kidney stones is that most of them will pass with time. And even more unfortunate is the fact that the time of passage correlates to the size of the kidney stone. I visited my doctor today and confirmed that the appropriate course of action is one I've been taking since the onset of the pain: drink lots of fluid and wait.
I am praying that it passes soon. You know, so I can get on the ball and start getting rid of my faux pregnancy.
Oh yeah, and to be pain free. : )
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