1/4-Ass Post

Hello dear reader(s)!

I had doctor appointments today.   Good times.   So I’ll be back tomorrow.   That’s why you’re getting this quarter-assed post from me today.   I’d call it a half-assed post, but that would require twice as much effort.

Okay, so…that’s about it for this one.  Maybe I should’ve called this 1/16-assed post.

Lung Biopsy Blues

Hello dear reader(s)!

I had intended to start posting again yesterday. but I was still pretty wiped out (and still am. but less so) from my lung biopsy on Monday.  My inconsistent posting has been primarily due to the appointments leading up to the biopsy and just the over all crappy feeling of needing one.  The fear of the procedure didn’t help either.  The fear of the results is minimal, however.

It all started about a month ago when I got really sick from a virus called RSV.  RSV is actually a very common virus that affects everyone.  It is usually just like a severe cold.  For me, due to the messed up immunity from the cancer battle, it lasted longer, and I was diagnosed with pneumonia after a while with it.  With the pneumonia. I had a chest x-ray that revealed some nodules on my lungs.  I then had a CT scan for a more detailed picture.

There were nodules on my lungs back in December when I had pneumonia the last time.  Those nodules were dismissed as likely scar tissue, and I was given instructions to have a follow-up scan this month to ensure they hadn’t grown.  Since I had the scan last month, obviously that wasn’t necessary.

At first. I was told it didn’t look like the nodules had grown.  I was happy to understand that the nodules were likely just scar-tissue, or perhaps a fungal infection that wasn’t active.  I was referred to a pulmonologist to schedule what I thought would be a bronchoscopy.  I’ve had them before, they suck, but I know what to expect with them.

Due to the deep location of one of the nodules on my lung, I was informed that the bronchoscopy would be done under general anesthesia.  I wasn’t too happy about being totally under, but I figured it would be a good trade-off for having to swallow the scope and gag on it.

When I met with the pulmonologist I was informed that the nodules were in-fact growing, and that they were just going to do a needle biopsy instead.

Having had bone marrow biopsies. I know the concept of shoving a needle into someone to collect tissue, but a lung was definitely new territory.  So after the consult, I left and then they called to book it.

After they booked it, I spent all day on the phone with my insurance company for errors they made and things they told me that were preventing the procedure from potentially being covered.  (In addition to other claims that may be sent back due to their errors.)  I got it taken care of, and began to prepare for the procedure.

The primary risk of the procedure was a pneumothorax.  This is basically when air from the lung leaks out of the hole in the lung into the space between the lung and the chest.  This air creates a pressure that can then collapse your lung.  The hole in the lung seals quickly, but it can still happen.  That did not happen to me, which is nice, because it allowed me to go home the same day.

The procedure itself was virtually painless.  I really was surprised by how little it hurt.  The medication I had helped with the needle itself, and all I really had to do was consistently breathe.  They mapped the area with a CT scan, and then inserted the needle.  Then they scanned me again afterward to ensure there was no pneumothorax.  There wasn’t.

But then I started bleeding.

THAT hurt.  The pressure from the blood seemed to refer elsewhere, and it felt like I was having a heart attack.  I was hooked to monitors, and I wasn’t, but it really hurt.  So they gave me Dilaudid.  That helped a little, and then they took me to recovery.  I was coughing up a little blood, which was normal.  When I got in recovery, I started feeling dizzy and threw up.  After nausea medication, I was still in a lot of pain and they gave me oxycodone.  The pain began to fade.  They did two more chest x-rays over the next 4 hours to make sure I didn’t have a pneumothorax, and then I was released.  On the way home, I got a little dizzy again.  We picked up some food, and once home, before I ate, I threw up again.  Yesterday I was extremely tired.  I was exhausted.

Today I expected to be better.  I am, but I am not 100%, and it is really annoying because it is beautiful out.

I haven’t gotten any results yet. but that isn’t surprising.  I’m not particularly concerned.  This is almost certainly an infection of some type.  It could be another cancer, of course, but all the doctors involved aren’t expecting that.  This biopsy was primarily just to identify the type of infection to grab the best medication to treat it.

Anyway, my dear reader(s), I just wanted to let you all know why I haven’t been consistent lately.  I look forward to catching up with your blogs and writing more consistently.

Weebles Wobble

But if they are high up on a ledge and get knocked off of it, they will fall down.  A Weeble‘s terminal velocity is actually higher than a penny, so a falling Weeble from a height where it could reach its terminal velocity, (such as the Empire State building) could actually seriously harm someone.  We believe that Hasbro should be liable for any injuries associated with falling Weebles due to their commercials claiming that they don’t fall down.  If you have ever been injured by a Weeble falling from a tall structure, consult the Law Offices of Bob and Steve for a free, personal consultation.

Hello dear reader(s)!

This post is not about Weebles.  It is a random post about a few random things because um like, I’m like totally random all the time.  Like totally.  But speaking of Weebles, do you remember Weebles?  Did you own any Weebles as a child?  Do your children have Weebles, or just iPads?  I remember Weebles.  I loved Weebles (though not in the romantic sense, although there was that one time…) sorry, I digress.

Do you know what else I remember?  Mother-fucking Big Wheels!  I rode my Big Wheel all over the place because that is what kids my age did before we had motorized everything to do the work for us.  I remember when Power Wheels came out and we couldn’t afford them but some of my friends could and they all had heart attacks in their teen years.  Okay, not really, but who needs those motorized toys when we have good old-fashioned pedal-power?!?!  And I’m not just saying these things because I am jealous of the kids who had parents that loved them could afford to buy those for them.  But do you know what I saw today?

The inside of a doctor’s office.  For way too long.  Because my insurance sucks.  But do you know what I saw on the way home?

The pet food store that charges an ungodly amount for my cat’s food.  Yeah, we’ll be ordering it online from now on.  You may close now.  But do you know what I saw on my way home from there?

Kids, playing outside.  The girl sitting down and pushing a big skateboard, and her older brother riding a Big Wheel.  A real, honest-to-goodness Big Wheel.  Yes, I have seen these children before today, and yes, they have come by in their Power Wheels, or have been walking with their dad? grandpa? older gentleman who watches them but doesn’t seem to be creepy about it?  Anyway no, today one of the kids was riding a Big Wheel.

“Big deal Josh, so you saw kids outside and one was riding a Big Wheel,” you spit through your sense of indignation.

Well, it IS a big deal.  Beyond the fact that this proves not every child is spending all day everyday playing video games or hacking the NSA, that kid riding his Big Wheel was leaving plastic wheel marks on the exact same places I left mine roughly 32 years ago.  That is pretty damn awesome, whether you ask me or not.  So that made me happy, which is necessary because…

Have I ever mentioned how much I hate health insurance companies?  Well, in case I haven’t, (and I honestly can’t remember any post I ever might have written blasting a health or prescription insurance company), I will let you know that I mother-fucking hate mother-fucking health insurance companies.  More than I love to use “mother-fucking”.  Today I went back to my doctor’s office for a couple of things they determined I would need yesterday.  The first was a shot of Neupogen to boost my neutrophils because I am slightly neutropenic.  (Not a big worry, sometimes the marrow just kind of hiccups and I need to have the shot for a boost.  It used to be all the time, and now it is every couple of months or less.)  I also had to get a 1/2 pint of blood taken from me to help lower my iron content.  (This is actually very good because it means my hematocrit and hemoglobin were well within the normal range so it could be done.)  Oh, and my platelets are doing better too, but now I’m just bragging about my counts.  Anyway, the blood draining took about 15 minutes.  The shot?  Maybe 3 with prep.  How long do you think I was at the doctor’s office?

2 mother-fucking hours.  Why?  Well, it wasn’t the doctor’s staff, or the nurses, or the doctors themselves.  No, it was the mother-fucking insurance company.  My group plan which is COBRA, is having a hard time letting go of the fact that they haven’t been primary since the beginning of the year when I became eligible for Medicare.  I’ve called, I’ve e-mailed, but they insist on trying to pay primary.  Medicare (who makes the rules) knows that the rules say they are primary.  So I was held up for an hour and 40 minutes not due to questions about what is and isn’t covered, not about co-pays, co-insurance, or deductibles, no, I was held up that long because they were trying to OVERpay.  I told the nurse, “Fuck ’em.  Take their money then.”  Unfortunately for me, they are honest there or something silly like that.

So as if the draining isn’t exhausting enough, I spent a lot longer than I was supposed to waiting, which is exhausting by itself.  Especially when you’re in the room 3 doors down from where you were first diagnosed with cancer.  Or I was actually, hopefully you weren’t diagnosed with cancer.  Anyway, like a Weeble, I’m wobbling.  Unlike a Weeble however, I am about to fall down.

Weeble and Hasbro are likely registered trademarks of the Hasbro corporation and I bet they reserve all rights but since I’m not trading on their brand, I think I’m safe.  Also, I do not know the terminal velocity of a Weeble or whether or not, in fact, they might be dangerous.  What I do know is that you should look up when walking beneath the empire state building because (while a penny or dime can’t injure you), a dropped bolt or possibly even a Weeble could.  You also might get shit on by a bird.  I also should say that there likely is no lawsuit against Hasbro for injuries sustained due to falling Weebles nor probably should their be.  Finally, I would also like to say that mother-fucking is likely a registered trademark of Samuel L. Jackson, and if not, it probably should be.