Good news, bad news, odd news

Here's the good news; nothing growing in my throat, and the ENT Doctor almost left me speechless.  The guy listened, never interrupted me, never twisted what I said, or asked a question, then interrupt the answer.  In other words, he was nothing like the others.

I made an effort to have my thoughts together so I could get him up to speed quickly and concisely.  I'm still stunned at how attentively and pleasantly he listened.  Not since the dermatologist, Lopez, have I experienced anyone paying such attention.

It goes back to the less than satisfactory internist, Flores.  Except I have no intention of dealing with him further.  And I agree with this new guy, Dr. Keith Jackson, that it is in the esophagus, and it is muscle spasms.  Not sure the cause.  But in order not to step on toes, he sends it back. Plus, it is what I told them I thought.

Anyway, if you need an ear, nose, and/or throat specialist in San Diego County, Jackson is the person to find.  Besides every room in his 5th floor office, waiting room and exam room included, has  a real great view of city and mountains.

The bad news is that I can't get this guy to take over for hematologists, and internists.  Good news, not throat issue, per se.   This may be fixable; almost certainly is.

Sometimes, often, I post stuff here because I want a record in case I forget, I can check and see where I have been.  It was odd, in my mind, that nothing would be seen, but I had told people, when I called in pain, that it was below my throat, behind sternum, upper sternum.   People with poor problem solving skills in any line of work tend to annoy me.

There is a very good chance I can fix this issue, and that maybe a maintenance does of the poison, eventually, is all I have to worry with, and that I will experience a near miraculous outcome.  Already, much of that has happened.

Next step, I go to TSA to see if they can run imaging to check for esophageal contraband.  If anything in there was missed by Dr Useless, or awakened during the scopy deal,  we'll find out.  Especially if it is shaped like a gun, or like a pop tart shaped like a gun.

I think I won't be a goner for a long time yet.  Maybe I'll get my place cleaned up. That is just about the entire bucket list.

Today was good, and that may be a bad timing if people want to run cameras up your nose.  Nothing to see here, move along.  If I had not seen data that was irrefutable, I would think I made up this entire saga and that I was creating all my own troubles.  Except when some sort of episode is in progress.  Then I don't think so.   But I do believe I will be as close to cured as it gets.  It is obviously headed that way.

Miracle boy. Or destined to never really have it all that tough.  Seriously, it is my fate, and the consistency of this syndrome is what encourages me to even entertain the idea of destiny.  It may take a minute, but this deal is going to work out OK.  It is remarkable how one can consciously influence physical maladies mentally.  I try to remember.  When I do, all is much better and more easily handled.  It won't make things perfect, but it helps.

Some people have things to learn.  It can be entertaining and interesting.



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You'll Know It Was Me

More properly, you'll know it was I.

I will be the one who beats up a local internist for being a smarmy, arrogant, chicken shit, spineless creep.  I got tired of calling him, explaining the pain would have landed me in the emergency room had anyone been here to drive, and having him act like it was all a lie.  "Well we didn't see anything that would cause blablabla.

The problem became a problem immediately following having a camera shoved down my throat.  Fair enough, but don't tell me, "There's no way that could have caused anything."  I am not the suing type.  However, depending upon how this goes, I may consider suing Dr Flores--Sergio---for being an arrogant ass.

He called me up angry because I had his office send records to an ear nose throat guy.  He originally wanted to put it to ENT.  At that time most pain was lower.  Now it is there too.  Got laryngitis and the pain stopped.  Got well from that and had steady pain for over 24 hours.  Some hours worse than others.  I took every boot leg pain killer, valium and muscle relaxer certain friends had in the cabinet.

That was the only way through it and to sleep.  I woke up better.  It has happened a few times before. Like every several days.

The medical world has gone to hell, and is going to go more to hell.  Centralized bureaucracy is evil.  Doesn't matter if it is insurance companies or government.  And being able to sue those who make honest effort is not good.  Someone like Flores, sue his arrogant ignorant ass.  He is smart enough to have the job, but too damned ignorant to know he cannot possible know better than I do how I feel, and what I feel.  He just wanted to avoid all responsibility.  Had no desire whatsoever to solve the problem.

So, how can I believe a guy like that will catch what needs catching from the camera images or video?

I told them all time and time again that the whole trouble centered between that dent where you do a tracheotomy and the diaphragm.

When you have nothing to lose, you do wonder what will stop you from punching a bastard like Dr Flores when he shows his face, or what will stop me from just trashing their bureaucratic wildness and nonsense.  At Scripps you go to all these desks then to the doctor then back to the desks. Then who knows.

If these mofos kill me out of being lily livered ****** etc. , then I plan on beating up a couple on my 3way out.  Would take them out because who wants to see them on the other side?  I'd just punch them in the nose, or maybe sucker punch to the gut.

This is Working Out

The poison pill is doing its job.  The count for the main culprit dropped by almost half.  It is just about in the range of normalcy.  This means I probably take some poison forever, but other things will reappear, like iron, and energy will against visit me.

Next solve the swallowing issue and life is grand.

Played the wounded warrior CD event with Chris Hamilton and band.  It was an interesting time.  There are people from 30 to 70 years old in that band.  It was a little rough from lack of everyone practicing together, but it wasn't bad.  The musicians are all really good.

The number one enemy, until you reach a level beyond my imagining, is the friggin sound system and set up. Why places get it so wrong, I am not sure.  Tonight I think the resonator player and I could hear one another but the room couldn't.  Monitors not in line with the mains.  So, we enjoyed the show more than anyone because we heard everything.

I am thinking that there is a chance of a real bounce-back within a month or two.   The JAK2 gene mutation is unlikely to un-mutate.   As a result of the mutated gene, the off switch in the bone marrow  malfunctions.  Enter the pusher man, saying, "Take a pill!".

The pill kills something which halts much of the cell production.   A makeshift off switch, which one learns to control properly through dosage experimentation and adjustment. Doing so well that we just keep doing what we're doing for another 3 months.  I bet the dosage gets cut in half then.

It is kind of cool, however it seems to me that the whole stem cell situation could be manipulated on a molecular scale,   Un-mutation seems possible to me.

Crazy world.  Some physicians resent it mightily if you dare not have  a primary care doctor.  The think everyone has the time and money to work it out as they see fit.

Summary

I keep writing things, then deciding they are too whatever, so I revert them to "draft" status where they won't see the light of day.

Anyway, I play a cd release party with a guy who has a song on an album by various veterans around the country. I don't know the whole deal. It will be OK.

Then Friday night I play a place with the band. Never known anyone who loved to sing more than Sande.

It is a challenge for me to keep up with what I have to do.  Maybe that is what it takes for me to appreciate things, and make some effort. I think that is the case.  And I'm optimistic, cheerful, and curious.  No telling what is next.

Wow. Are People That Angry?

So, being a nincompoop I was on FB, facebook, el libro de la cara, The Devil, and I noticed something; there are many poster looking posts with things like, "I'm not sad because you are gone, I'm just disappointed to see you for who you really are.  And I mourn for the wasted time I spent with you".

Really.  I made that up, and it is a toned down version of that theme.  The theme being, if you did not stay with me, or I chose to leave, you suck and I am now empowered.

Few will admit the truth.  I will.  I am alone because I am an idiot.  Not because I picked the wrong ones or any of that garbage.  Geez, I'm the "wrong one" that they talk about--"won't make that mistake again.  No more perfect guys for me!!"   I'm sure that's how it goes.

Maybe not.  I may have placed the word "perfect" where another adjective or two  would be better suited.

But why are so many people posting and circulating slogans that are all about how any conflict in life is because everyone but you (whoever is posting) is evil?  Or they are stupid, worthless, shallow, undeserving vermin.

There seems to be a real effort to cultivate anger.  As if all the righteous indignation over manufactured dramas elevates one into some elite category of intelligentsia.   But what we have is dimwittery.  Ever popular, and to some a form of consolation.  I'm sorry people find such things cool, reasonable and worth sharing.

People, overall, tend to treat me well enough.  There are those who warrant avoidance.

To me, it looks like a way for people, who find dumb drama and anger a hobby,  to beat others to the "screw you and I don't care" punch.

Anger is so overrated as a passtime and as a way to earn respect.

Yea, Right!!

Much of my life and the episodes therein, fall into the if-you-didn't-see-it-for-yourself-you-would't-believe-it category.  That leaves me with a challenge; how do I keep the story interesting, yet tone it down so as not to stretch credulity.   De-dramatizing the truth can often make it more believable.

Cremated

If they do kill me, I want to be cremated, and tossed out in the Caribbean.   If that can't be arranged, then scatter me over the best looking, and nicest unmarried women I know.  You'll have to make that up as you go.

Ace in the Hole

All of the preceding is true, and I am displeased with this stuff, but I can't forget one important fact;  I'm the miracle boy.

Matters not if you are atheist or whatever, there is more to life than meets the eye.  I'd think just a cursory brush with quantum physics would demonstrate that.  And I have been far more fortunate than many when it comes to some out of nowhere rescue when I am hanging by my nails over a cliff.

I won't elaborate, but I know.  It doesn't mean that this time biology and Newtonian physics won't finally send me packing, but I would be ungrateful for past favors if I discount the possibility that this can get better.  I say "favors" because that is how it felt when I thought I was doomed and boom, I escaped.

I'm one who believes in multidimensional states of being, which could imply parallel universes and all that. I don't go that far, but I do believe there could be a lot going on we just don't see.  We know some aspects of matter and being, but not enough to even make sense of existence.

Like, just now, an item I searched for time and time again over the last two days suddenly appeared out of nowhere in plain view.  I choose to believe it slid into another dimension and finally slid back.

So, I have to believe improvement is possible.  Matters not if anyone thinks otherwise.  Always gets me when self styled science types pretend to know what is absolutely impossible.  That is rote science.  For parrots.  It is not how the real scientists create so many great things.

Alright. Maybe there is hope.  I cannot ever let myself get too mopey, regardless of all.  Not again,.  Mopey and depressed are not my friends.  So, adios you crazy things.

Not Working Out

Remind me never to fall apart in a way that compels me to seek medical help, ever again!!  Whatever they broke inside when they shoved a camera down my throat is not getting better like I hoped that it would.

The worst part is when you feel like you are arguing with a goddam doctor who is either afraid to be wrong, afraid to be caught without an answer, or afraid to be sued.  I find it hard to believe they can be that flat out stupid.  But you never know.

This day I could not go anywhere.  If I moved that thing would get weird, making it hard to even swallow water.  I think some crazy stomach activity puts a little back pressure on the system, and that upper hiatal hernia pushes through enough that the nerves hit aren't sure if things are going down or back up.  So muscles react spasmodically and it traps that pushed through part.  The result feels like a brain freeze but somewhere just below the throat.  But it doesn't easily vanish.

Pretty sure they biopsied something there and that little nip was all it needed to make it worse.  It is bleeding from somewhere.  That comes and goes, but I think it is worse during these episodes.  Episodes lasting 12 or 18 hours are not good.  I just do not want to call the guy up again, defend myself as if I am inventing the issue, listen to him try to push me off on an ear, nose, throat specialist, and deal with the bureaucracy of the medical office.

Oh, and I have to deal with the fast talking valley speak girls.  They will ask a question as if the entire sentence were one word.  There may be some intonation cluing me that it is a question.  Not always.  Ask what it was she just said and she'll say exactly the same way, unintelligibly.  I have to tell the lass I cannot understand even one word and maybe saying it another way would help.

So, I have no faith they'll fix this. Besides this whole other thing, for which I take a poison pill, is enough trouble.  Really.  At this rate I'll be dead by fall.  And in this condition I can't do anything that requires much.

It better go away.  I have to play twice this weekend.  The wounded warrior guy wants me to practice friday.  I have to see that stuff gets done at work.

I am screwed.  Maybe it will get better and I'll have some more of those days, characterized by lack of debilitating symptoms.  Those are days when I think I am fine and maybe I can just cancel further medical experiences in the near future.   Maybe I will do just that.  I have grown to hate the direction that all authority, corporate culture, and government tainted enterprises have taken. It is mass insanity.

At any rate I get so fed up I just want to be away from it.  These people were checking for internal bleeding, caused a bigger problem as they pulled the rig out, and then say "Oh, we didn't see anything that would cause the problem".  What?  Of course not. You did it on the way out.

Who can blame them?  I would not be able to work as a doctor under the system as it has evolved.  It is nuts and has been getting nuttier for many years.  Insurance companies changed.  They brought us lots of weirdness like HMOs.  Many of which are unbelievably incompetent and not helpful. And they brought us this latest debacle that people think is an effort to provide everyone with access to healing technology and treatment.

Such fools to believe that the motive for such government/insurance (or any business) partnerships has anything to do with helping people, looking out for the little guy--whoever that is--and all the other talk that implies institutions are God.

Dangle something "free" out there, throw in a little class hatred, and people will sucker for anything.

If I die before this place gets cleaned up and I get most things out of here and out of the landlord's way, let them know I am sorry about it.  I am sorry to have made myself sick.  No one said I did.  I just feel like it is my fault, and I am no good, etc.  Pretty sure I'd tell another guy in my shoes that he's an idiot and not powerful enough to make his own gene mutate, etc.

I told them from the start where things center.  They keep thinking it is a case of concurrent but not directly related conditions.  I think they are wrong.  And this is becoming more than a person living alone can really take.  I don't know what to do next.
This will probably fade some more and I'll feel better.  I hope so.  I am more than angry at the hematologist who says, "that's for the internal guy, I deal with your blood issues", and the internal guy who says, "It was only a small hernia and I didn't see anything that would cause that. Maybe it is for the ear nose throat guy."  Come on!!  These are guys with big reputations.  I guess they just sweep the troubling cases under the rug, they die, and no one is any the wiser.

I somewhat pity the next doctor I visit and the next valley girl talking staff person who crosses my path.  I'll look like a total ass and lunatic, but it will be highly uncomfortable for them, too, being stuck there while I go into a hopeless rage.  Next blood test is maybe on the 21st, and the hemo guy on the 23rd. Can't cancel that. It is the only thread I have.  And that bone marrow problem deserves the tests to know what is left of any use flowing through my veins.  Ice water, for sure.  Also to see what influence the poison pill has.

But those symptoms are only the constant fatigue, some confusion, occasional skin itch attacks and like that.  The esophageal thing is what totally incapacitates me.  And no way I can let them stick any more probes down there to look. Not unless they are surgically correcting it.  This sucks.  I think I am not going to weather all this like I had hoped.

Too much going on that they ignored because it was inconvenient or didn't have a good specific typical label for insurance. Or government or whoever is being robbed to pay for most of this madness.

I can't do this anymore. But I will try.  Maybe in awhile I will feel better.  Otherwise it is nearly impossible to do anything that involves getting up and moving.

[EXPLETIVE OF YOUR CHOICE HERE]!!!!!!! over and over again, screamed loudly
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Just so I Have It Down

How long since the last attack of the phantom esophagus monster?  No way to sleep but I think I have it all figured out, but not totally on how to avoid the flare up.
That is neither here nor there.
This is highly unacceptable.  It makes it tough to even think.  All remedies being employed, but too little, too late to prevent troubles.  So now it is still a ride it out sort of deal.
It has been a couple of days since this happened. At least. So peace is possible. We have none of that at this moment.
If I happen to doze off, it goes away until it wakes me up,.