Category: Emily is neurotic

As I mentioned a couple weeks ago, I have been having serious trouble staying awake lately. I am tired all. the. time. This presents problems in many ways, but especially when I’m driving to work. I am tired of it (heh).

So, what do I do instead of going to a doctor like a normal person? (Sorry, Dr. Almost-Cousin Mackenzie)

I find some crazy ideas on the interwebz and decide to go get myself a BioMeridian Test. What is that, you ask? Well don’t search Wikipedia, because I just tried and it’s not there. Which means it’s totes legit, right? Anyway, a BioMeridian Test is “a 58-point evaluation that accurately measures the health and function of every organ and system in the body through key points that are connected to natural pathways in the body that correlate with specific systems and organs.”

Basically, I laid on a table with my hand in the air, and by pushing on my arm and various and sundry other parts of my body, this person can determine which of my body systems are working well and which of them aren’t.

But! We’re not just going to take her word for it – to back up this system, she put an electrode on a bunch of different acupuncture points on my hands and feet, which sent a signal to a computer. What it was measuring, I have no idea. But the good news is all my systems are working SWIMMINGLY. The computer screen showed me a handy little bar chart, and everything was solidly within the “green” portion.

Well, all my systems with the exception of my adrenal system, which is apparently all jacked up. When we got to that portion of the bar chart, it was not in the green or even the yellow – it was almost-off-the-charts red. I said, “I take it that is not good,” and she confirmed my suspicion.

This all sounds like nonsense, doesn’t it? Yes. But the problem is that half the people on the internet think it’s garbage and the other half say this test (and subsequent treatment) changed their lives. And that half sounds really excited and, well, we all know that I will fall for anything.

HOWEVER, the thing about my adrenal system being out of order? I could have told you that. If you recall, my grandmothers both diagnosed me years ago. I have every – every – symptom of hypothyroid disorder and have for years, but my blood tests have always come back just boarderline-normal enough for the doc to declare me perfectly healthy. Meanwhile, my hair falls out, my skin is dry, I randomly gain weight, my face is puffy, I struggle with depression, the list goes on and on. Even weird and random stuff like jerking and thrashing around while I’m asleep, which Andy tells me I do constantly.

So, while I am still skeptical of this whole thing, I am going back on Friday to review recommendations on vitamins and supplements that can theoretically help this. (For a low, low price, I’m sure.) I don’t know if it will help, but I am so sick of feeling bad that I’m willing to give it a try.

Lay it on me – do you think I’m crazy? Have you had experiences (good or bad) with alternative medicine? I can’t wait to hear.

P.S. As I wrote this, Kate came running to me and said, “Mommy! I just saw something on tv that we have to have! You can get wood-looking laminate floors for only 39 cents!! But it only lasts through July so we’d better hurry!” I could not make this stuff up. Gullibility is evidently hereditary.

Last Saturday, Jenny, Bobby, Andy and I went out to dinner together. Without our kids. It was lovely and left us all wondering why we don’t do that more often. Like every Saturday. But anyway, the only downside to our festivities is that I was in terrible pain. You see, I had had a toothache for a day or so, but it chose our special dinner as the time to get worse. Much worse. I thought I had something stuck in my gum, which Jenny diagnosed as a tooth spicule. I googled it as a second opinion and determined she was right. Then I ordered a steak, which probably wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done but it was sooooo good. Anyway, we had a fabulous time.

Sunday morning I woke up and my tooth felt better, so being the genius I am, I decide to have raisin bran for breakfast.

Oh. Em. Gee, people. I was dying. I was in so much pain, and it stretched from the center of my chin all the way to the back of my head. I kept thinking of the nurse I had when I was in labor with Sam. She asked me to rate my pain on a scale from 1-10, and I never went above four. When I was giving birth. Sunday? I was at a solid eight.

Like I said, I thought something was stuck in my gum and I needed it to come out, so I googled emergency dentist and ended up at a place that shall not be named – we’ll call it ShadyDent. So, Andy drove me over to ShadyDent and dropped me off (and then took Sam to get a haircut – woo hoo!). I was one of three people in the waiting room, so didn’t think it would be too bad. WRONG! I had to wait for more than two hours just to be seen.

Did I mention I was in pain?

I was not amused. But I finally did get taken back to an exam room, which is when, despite my horrendous pain, I began berating myself for not just sucking it up and waiting for my regular dentist to open the next day. This place was sketchy. I texted Jenny and Rachel saying I was fairly sure I was going to leave there with lice and/or hepatitis. (Update: to my knowledge, I have neither. But you never know.) Anyway, the dentist came in and started banging around on my teeth (I am not even kidding – banging is the appropriate term) and I about came out of my chair. Then he took a couple xrays and said “The root of your tooth died and now it’s infected. The infection is trying to come out of your body through your gums, which is why you feel a sore spot. You need a root canal – want me to do it now?” and I was like “Um, no thanks, Dr. ShadyDent.” So he gave me some antibiotics and Vicodin and sent me on my way, warning me that if I didn’t get it taken care of in the next few days, I’d land myself in the emergency room.

So, again, because I am SUCH A GENIUS, I determined we needed to stick with the plan for the day and go to King’s Island. Because really, where’s a better place to go? I was definitely at my shadiness quota by that time that day was over.

It was a good excuse to eat ice cream all day, though. It is a sad state of affairs when eating ice cream is painful, but that’s where I was. Pass the Vicodin!

The next day was spent making calls to my regular dentist, and, getting nowhere, googling myself a new one. Fortunately, I came across the most amazing dental office ever in the history of the world. Or maybe it just seemed that way in comparison to ShadyDent. Either way, I finally felt as though I was in good hands.

Good hands, however, that didn’t want to do a root canal unless it was absolutely necessary. Which it might be. But it might not. We’re not sure – so we’re waiting. Waiting for two more weeks, unless my pain level increases again and I can’t take it anymore – at which point I’m going to go all Cast Away and find myself an ice skate.

But here’s the latest development. Remember that spot on my gum? Now there’s something sharp poking out of it. And it hurts like crap when I touch it. Which I can’t stop doing.

You know what it probably is? A BONE SPICULE. Which means Dr. Jenny and Dr. Google were right all along. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how to extract it.

If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to google “bone spicule and pocket knife.” Don’t worry – I have Vicodin.

On November 4, 2011, I wrote a post that contained a list of things I needed to do that weighed heavily on me. Some of those things I’ve actually done (cleaned the room in our basement)… some of them I haven’t (lost 7 pounds).

One thing I hadn’t done was change the batteries in the smoke detectors.

That was six months ago, and I’d say that 70% of nights since then, I’ve laid in bed and worried about the smoke detector batteries being dead, the house catching on fire, and all of us dying. Each morning, though, when I was actually able to do something about it, I wouldn’t think of it. Until I tried to go to sleep again, of course.

Wednesday night I decided enough was enough. I bought some batteries and was determined to finally put my OCD fears to rest. I pulled a chair into the hallway, under the smoke detector that is right outside the bedrooms. The one I had worried about for months on end.

As it turns out, the damn thing is wired in to the electricity of the house.

It was so anti-climatic! But it occurred to me that there was a lesson in it. I had spent so much time and energy obsessing worrying about something that was a complete non-issue.

How many other things do I worry about that have no basis in reality?

Anyway, I discovered that the smoke detector did have a battery as a back up, so I went ahead and changed that. But when I reassembled the thing, it started chirping. You know that sound – the one that means the battery is about to die? So annoying. And I couldn’t get it to stop. Obviously the battery wasn’t dead. I thought maybe I had put the battery in wrong so I took it all apart again and checked. It was situated the right way, but the chirping continued. It was after nine by that point. The kids were ready to go to bed, and I could sense a giant melt down brewing under Kate’s surface. I was about ready to cut the wires just to make it stop when I googled it, and basically found out that I needed to leave it alone for 10 minutes and my problems would be solved.

Fortunately, that worked.

So then I modified the lesson learned – worrying about problems that don’t exist can lead to problems that actually really do exist.

Basically, I need to calm my ass down. We’ll see if that happens.