femminista: thoughts of a feminist rhetorician

A recent editorial in the NYTimes, The Wrong Place to be Chronically Ill, reports that the US offers lower standards of care than seven other industrial nations. First of all, I realize that health care in the US is much better than the majority of the world and I am thankful for that. At the same time, I'd like to live to be very old and as someone who suffers from multiple chronic illnesses, good health care is essential to achieving this goal. I spend a lot of time in doctors' offices and consider myself to be fairly knowledgeable regarding current medical practices. Yesterday, I experienced once again the low standard of care that I've come to expect in this town.

At the risk of seeming narcissistic, I'm going to chronicle the latest of my medical adventures.  While vacationing at Edisto Beach in SC, I had increasingly pronounced tremors and jerking, which are common in my life but  usually to a lesser degree, and a terrible migraine.  This was then followed by a new event: the grand mal seizure.  One minute I'm picking up shells on the beach and the next I'm coming to, surrounded by strangers, and being told that I've just had a seizure.  As I would learn later, as I walked on the beach, I suddenly stopped, stiffened up and fell over.  Then, I began to convulse, eyes open but unconscious.  The tide was coming in and my sister lifted my head out of the water and then an army medic an

Oh my. Well, I have a new topic for my blog. Or, rather, I have one old topic that's been sorely neglected and a new topic to introduce, my newest medical condition--seizure disorder, or as it is more commonly referred to, epilepsy. Up until I had a grand mal seizure two weeks ago I thought that my spasms and tics were just that. As it turns out, they are considered to be seizures, as are my frequent deja vu experiences, which I only recently learned were mini-seizures. So, now I'm on medications (Keppra to be specific) to control my seizures; and the side effects are kicking my ass. They're making me tired and confused, and I think they're giving me headaches.

I have been informed by a recent subscriber to my rss feed that I'd "better post some good stuff" or I'd get demoted on his iGoogle page. (This is what I get for being a sweet maven.) So, as per his request/threat, I am posting. Good or not remains to be seen, but here I am.

First of all, it seems that I write lots of apology posts, mostly for my lack of posting. Part of this is the strain of posting for multiple blogs and maintaining several websites. Last time I checked there were still only twenty four hours in a day. I've submitted a grant request for an extra eight hours but have yet to hear back. So, unfortunately, my personal blog generally ends up getting the shaft.

I wrote this last week in one of my knew client-side blog applications and forgot to post it. It seems significant enough to still warrant a spot on the blog.

I no longer dread my thirtieth birthday; I hope for it. For someone who has already exceeded her life expectancy by twenty-nine years, I should be looking forward to this birthday. For the past several months I have been ill and experienced an emotional rollercoaster of testing and diagnoses. My GI problems, some gluten-related and some not, have made day-to-day functioning a challenge. It seems that I have other food intolerances or issues that cause me to get sick almost every time that I eat. This is not fun.

1. The Yankee-Devil Rays debacle. Here's hoping the Devil Rays get hit by a train made out of fire and MLB stops handing out fines and suspensions like candy. And if you have no idea what I'm talking about, you can read about the hooplah that has resulted in suspensions for Melky Cabrera and Shelley Duncan as well as a nice fine for Joe Girardi (great way to start his tenure as manager. Thanks a lot, MLB) here at Yankees.com. Train-made-out-of-fire. Seriously.
2. I got glutened on my trip to Indy
3. Of course, I get sick no matter what I eat anymore and I don't know why, which means lots of GI discomfort with no idea how to prevent it. This also means that I am probably allergic or intolerant to some other food group and will be starting and elimination diet soon. Or I need to have my gall bladder removed. Good times.

Since it's Spring Break, Jonathan and I decided to take a quick jaunt up to Indy.  Do a little shopping, have a little food, order some room service, and basically enjoy ourselves.  So, after an arduous process of sifting through possible gluten-free restaurants and finding precious little, we went to Masala Kitchen in the Castleton/Keystone area.  The staff was extremely polite and helpful (at times a bit too helpful)  and the wide selection of south Indian cuisine made choosing gluten-free options easy.  I double-checked to be sure that they prepared their dishes using the ingredients that I was familiar with (i.e., no gluten).  So, as we were finishing up dinner and drinking my favorite madras coffee, I sampled a bit of the dessert that came with my thali.  It was overly s

Okay, now all I want to do is play with this. I'm tired and my health isn't so great. I should be sleeping and/or writing my thesis, but this is so much fun. I'm practicing some avoidance here in part because I'm nervous about my doctor's appointment on Friday, which is silly, I know. I, who practically grew up in the doctor's office, am nervous. I'm afraid to hope that this doctor will help improve my quality of life when so often others have failed to. Not making much sense, I know. This doctor is different because he specializes in adult survivors of pediatric cancer and I guess I'm afraid that if he can't help me no one can. I had cancer in the seventies when chemo treatment was still pretty medieval.