Hallucinations Are Severely Beating Me Up And Think They Have The Upper Hand For Some Reason.
Friday September 13th 2013, 11:47 pm
Filed under: Health (Not Cancer), Me, Myself, and Reid, Who Knows?

A few entries ago, I teased that I would post an entry titled “Hallucinations Slow Forward Momentum, But Fail To Stop It.” I wrote most of that entry before one of the very things I was writing about–that’s right, hallucinations–severely debilitated me. Although I still stand by the statement that these hallucinations haven’t stopped me from progressing, they have slowed me to, at best, the speed of molasses. Atypically slow molasses. Mmmoooooooolaaaaaaaaaaasssssseeeeeeesssss.

Earlier this summer, I began experiencing what I now know to be tactile and auditory hallucinations. That means I’m feeling and hearing things that don’t really exist (I’ll say it again: “stupid brain!”â„¢). I’m not experiencing visual hallucinations, so I’m not seeing these unreal things I can feel and hear. I haven’t necessarily decided whether that’s a good thing or not.

Following the first hallucination I can remember from the summer, successive hallucinations gradually became more realistic and began occurring more frequently. They are now so realistic and are occurring so often that they are a huge distraction when I’m awake and when I’m trying to sleep. I’m having more sleep trouble than normal, which not only says a lot about the disruptiveness of the hallucinations, but is also the reason for my current constant, overwhelming exhaustion. Between the exhaustion and the distractions, most things that require any thought to do have become more difficult, especially things like writing(!!!), holding a conversation, and multivariable calculus (particularly Euler’s theorem on homogeneous functions).

I’ve been working with a doctor I really like and trust a great deal to figure out what’s causing these hallucinations. The initial theory was that the hallucinations were a side effect of a new medication. When I stopped taking that drug (under the supervision of several doctors), the hallucinations went away, only to return a week later, far more pernicious than before. There are more current theories as to what may be causing them, but they all require a neurologist to run various tests my nervous system and on my brain.

That is specifically delaying us because I haven’t been able to get an appointment with a neurologist before mid-October. My mother, Mom, has waited both on the phone and by the phone for great long chunks of time for opportunities to hopefully get me into a neurologist sooner than mid-October. I remain confident that I’ll get checked out before then, one way or another.

The only thing I’ve found that really keeps the hallucinations at bay is distraction. Simple, mindless things like making lists or organizing things seem to work for a while. However, the best medication remains spending time with friends. Even if I’m exhausted and can’t quite think straight, being with the people I love and enjoy most seems to send those spectres back to their own dimension for a few hours, which comes as very welcome relief.

This was way more than I thought I could sit down and write. And now, since I can’t think of a good conclusion, I’ll just say this:

Stop touching me.

Thank you,

Friends, Weddings, Happiness, and Health.
Saturday August 24th 2013, 5:51 pm
Filed under: Family, Friends, Me, Myself, and Reid

I am truly blessed to have so many great friends in my life. It only makes sense that great friends are also great human beings. Naturally, a lot of those great human beings gravitate towards one another as friends, collaborators, and spouses. Over the past several years, I’ve had the honor of attending many weddings and celebrating with many great friends as they married many equally great human beings.

I’ve written before that friends are my drug of choice. When I’m among friends, I am filled with an energy that is otherwise absent from my life. I am more powerful when I have friends around me than when I am alone. Their presence is extraordinarily addictive, lifting me up mentally, emotionally, and physically. I feel wanted and understood and inspired and happy. Who wouldn’t want to feel that way all the time? Eventually, though, without exception, at that inevitable time when we are forced to part and go our separate ways, the tremendous high I get from my friends turns into an intensely bitter withdrawal.

Reuniting with groups of friends is my ultimate motive for attending weddings. I’m sorry, brides and grooms, you’re obviously very important on your wedding day, but what you do best is give the rest of us a reason to celebrate. And what better way to celebrate than with people we love. With friends we don’t see anywhere near enough in our daily (or, too often, yearly) lives. And, yes, celebrating the union of two great human beings. All in an atmosphere ambient with overwhelmingly positive feelings: happiness and friendship and fun and love and togetherness and, maybe most of all, a shared confidence in a wonderful tomorrow for our two great friends.

Despite all my health problems, I’ve attended almost all of my friends’ weddings (though I’ve mostly steered clear of the ones to which I’ve not been invited). I missed Sarah and Tucker’s steampunk wedding a few years ago, for which I’d grown out my chops accordingly. I missed a joyous reunion with friends and with New York City because, for all the energy I spent pushing myself to be there, for all my immense desire and want to be there, my body wouldn’t give. I was just too sick to go.

I’m missing another wedding right now for the same reason. Melissa and Ryan were supposed to be married in Yosemite National Park today, but due to forces beyond their control, they had to move to another location. I’m confident that, though fires drove them from Yosemite, today will be a beautiful, wondrous day. Surrounded by their friends and family, who have gathered to celebrate that bond of love, support, and loyalty that transcends any specific place on a map, to which Mel and Ryan are committing themselves. There is no question that the celebration of their union will be just as grand, that the love and friendship of their guests just as strong, and the pact to which they are both committed just as powerful as it would have been in Yosemite.

Such purely happy moments are emotionally and physically painful to miss. It’s always tough missing bachelor parties and rehearsal dinners. It’s always tough being on the first bus back to the hotel when the party’s just begun. It’s always tough not being a part of the post-wedding antics, whether they’ve taken place in bars or sub shops. Those antics go on to become the stories that are told over and over and over because they’re the best stories. They’re the stories of friends coming together and, after all the pomp and circumstance, being themselves. Being comfortable with one another in a way that only the best of friends can be.

I wish I was a part of all of those stories. I wish I was feeling the high of the energy created by being with my friends today. I wish I could be with Mel and Ryan, celebrating their awesome life event. As sad as it makes me that I can’t be a part of any of those things, I know that today is a happy day. Two great human beings are becoming one whole. There’s nothing better that I could wish for these two great friends.

And so I choose to be happy today. For Melissa and Ryan. For all the guests that are able to reunite because of that special commitment Mel and Ryan have made to each other. And for me, because I realize that having great friends means there will always be more shenanigans that one day turn into the stories we tell over and over and over forever.

“Where The Hell Are You, Reid Levin?”
Thursday August 22nd 2013, 11:49 pm
Filed under: Friends, Health (Not Cancer)

Oh, hello! How very interesting that you should ask where the hell I am. I was about to answer that very question. As it turns out, where the hell I am and where the hell I should be are not even remotely close to being the same place.

I should be in San Francisco right now with my friends David, Claire, and Matt.

Instead, I’m in my room at home, which is a perfectly comfortable and familiar place in which I often try to sleep, but it’s no San Francisco. What it is is a room in the basement, which has led to it being referred to variously as “the cave,” “the dungeon,” and “the Bedroom of Solitude.” In turn, I have been identified as “the troll,” “the dungeon master,” and “not Superman.” I have it on good authority that, contrary to popular stereotypes, trolls’ prefered domiciles are, indeed, caves. Okay, that might not be true, but it’s okay; several of my best friends are trolls.

All right, enough about my cave.

David and Claire recently migrated to the hills of San Francisco from the cheesesteaks of Philadelphia. Claire is a skilled doctor who was selected to work at hospitals in San Francisco, coincidentally, as a doctor. Some time ago, our friend Melissa announced that she would be getting married in Yosemite National Park this weekend, so I devised a plan to crash David and Claire’s home in San Francisco and drive with them to Yosemite. Since I dreamt this whole scheme up before David and Claire were even certain about where Claire would be working, I’d like to take some credit–not all of it, just most of it–for their happy new life in California, where they would have moved regardless of my plan.

(Phew, I’m sure glad they’ve enjoyed California, so that I didn’t have to use that alternate sentence I prepared but am glad no one will ever read*.)

I feel like I might have gone off topic here. Let’s see… so, I’d planned to go to San Francisco to drive with David, Claire, and Matt (in from Hawaii) to Mel’s wedding in Yosemite. The plan went into motion seamlessly this (Thursday) morning, with only one minor hitch: I was too sick to fly today. So I remain in my aforementioned Basement of Solitude. Matt got there fine, though, so don’t worry about him. And David and Claire still live there in some sort of home, so their part in the plan has no problems. I’m currently planning to feel well enough to fly out there tomorrow (Friday) afternoon and pick up the plan from there. Unfortunately, I’m painfully aware that my life doesn’t always conform to my plans. That doesn’t mean I’ve given up hope! No, I fully intend to be on that airplane tomorrow! Most especially during the time it’s flying to San Francisco.

I’ve been sick for about a week-and-a-half with all kinds of symptoms that have ranged from nuts to bonkers. I’ve been writing when I’ve felt up to it, which hasn’t been nearly enough for me. I miss writing when I don’t do it and I always fear I’m going to forget things, such as what made a particular situation special enough to write about. I’ve been keeping notes, which I’m planning to use to complete some posts over the next week about important things like my great new doctors, their great new discoveries, their great new plans for me, and what’s already gone wrong. In fact:

Reid Levin will return in “Hallucinations Slow Forward Momentum, But Fail To Stop It.”

That’s a teaser to get you to keep reading. Reid’ll probably return before that, though, with an update on making it to San Francisco. That update will probably also contain lots of hopes and wishes and demands that Yosemite National Park stop being so on fire.

Luckily, I’ve learned to be very flexible with plans.


*Unused alternate sentence I prepared but am glad no one will ever read: I’d like to point out that my very-clearly-sarcastic remarks about moving to California were taken way too seriously by both David and Claire, so I bear absolutely no responsibility for their miserable new life in California.

Being Ill Is Kind Of A Bummer, Sick Man Reveals.
Friday August 16th 2013, 12:12 am
Filed under: Health (Not Cancer), Me, Myself, and Reid

I’ve been sick all week, which has been something of a bummer. I planned several small projects this week that didn’t even get off the ground. I find this especially frustrating as someone that gets sick a lot. When I’m healthy for several days in a row, I tend to get ahead of myself and begin formulating plans for upcoming continued days of feeling well. Those days don’t always come, so I often feel like I’ve just set myself up for disappointment. I’ll admit that it’s really nice when it works out, though.

There are things that are worth plowing through illness to do. Unfortunately, I find that ignoring an illness to do even the most worthwhile of activities usually leads to that illness becoming really angry. I wasn’t taking it seriously enough, I couldn’t be bothered enough to pay attention to it, I never even told my friends that the illness was living within me, that sort of thing. So the illness decides to show me what it can do when it really wants to make me sick. Some illnesses are really needy.

As long as I don’t fall into a habit of not writing every day I feel sick, I’m moving towards thinking it’s a fine reason not to write some days. I like writing more than I like not writing, but things like debilitating migraines, sinus infections, and bears make it very difficult to do at times. Well, difficult to do coherently, at least. I could definitely express how I feel when I have a debilitating migraine if only wasn’t bound by my oath to uphold The Rules Of Grammarâ„¢ (*sound of thunder crashing*)!!


Just like that! Except… that looks strangely similar to the entry I’d write after jumping out of being pushed out of an airplane. I might as well continue using spelling and punctuation and words and thoughts when I feel up to writing. I don’t think I’m really ready to have an avant-garde blog showcasing long strings of random characters I smursh out of my keyboard when I’m not feeling up to grammar.

Speaking of migraines, I saw my new neurologist today. It was a great experience. I didn’t dislike my previous neurologist at all, but, in going to see this new guy, I feel like I’ve been called up from a high school league to the majors (some sort of sports metaphor, I think). The new doctor was super thorough, great at answering questions, and helped connect several outstanding dots (turns out when they’re connected, they look like a pony). He’s already got me started on something to help my migraines that doesn’t involve more pills! It’s been amazing to realize several times over the past few weeks just what it feels like to find the right doctors.

Forward momentum continues! More details soon.

I’d love to write more, but I’d better head to bed. This illness is already pretty upset with me and I don’t want to piss it off anymore. After all, I’ve gotta live with it.


Writing And Not Writing.
Wednesday August 14th 2013, 12:41 am
Filed under: Me, Myself, and Reid, Word Nerd

I started writing this on Saturday, but ran into a self-imposed deadline. I decided to finish it tonight.

1) When something impacts my life in any sort of meaningful way, one of my first instincts is to write about it. Recording important moments and events through writing is a way for me to preserve my state of mind, something that wouldn’t necessarily be the case if I looked back at my calendar to help me recall things that happened. Even a video of such moments only captures so much. There’s a very important extra dimension to all noteworthy things in life that I know, if not preserved in writing, I would surely forget.

2) I find writing very therapeutic. Editing and rewriting contains happy moments when various ideas come together, things I didn’t realize had any connection in my first draft. Building these connections, snapping them into place by moving a sentence around or by adding a word or two is very rewarding.

3) By the third or fourth edit, my writing is almost pure anxiety. My constant need to fix and change and add and better every detail is overwhelming. Even though my anxiety manifests itself physically, causing me to sweat and tremble and growl and bang my head, it’s been very difficult for me, over the past few years, to stop myself from over-editing and rewriting entire pieces over and over again.

4) All of that anxious rewriting is to blame for several years of only a trickle of my writing appearing here. I’ve written volumes, entire epics that I’ve torn to shreds and written over and over again. I have nearly as many unseen drafts from the past three years as I have posts from the past six years.

5) I’m not under the impression that anything I write here will launch a career or vault me to superstardom. That’s not why I write in my blog. Why then, the need for perfection? There are not many things I’ve felt I could control in my life over the past several years. My blog is one thing over which I have complete control, even if I can’t control the OCD that overtakes me once I start editing and rewriting. I’ve had help coming to this realization.

6) Since I’ve started back up again, I’ve set rules for myself. They’re definitely helping me not go insane to finish writing posts I start. I’m spending much less time editing and rewriting because of time limits. The hardest thing has been reading each post after I’ve made it public and then not going back and editing it.

I always, always see sentences I want to rewrite and little jokes I could have worded so much better, not to mention the occasional misspelled word and vagrant punctuation mark. Why is there a comma in the middle of that word?! Usually the answer is–and I’m not ashamed to admit this–I have an addiction to commas. I NEED MORE COMMAS HERE AND LESS OVER THERE TO BALANCE OUT MY COMMA KARMA!! But, ultimately, I’m pleased that I’ve managed to stick to my rules so far.

7) I cannot think of anything from my life that I’ve been too self-conscious to write about in this blog. Perhaps I am very open about my life or perhaps I just can’t remember those particularly personal moments I chose not to write about. All the more reason to write as often as possible!

8) Despite my feelings of openness, there is a part of my life I have always had trouble writing about here. When other people’s personal lives are involved in my personal moments, I hit a barrier. For instance, I never wrote about my break-up with my girlfriend of nearly a decade on here, and I probably won’t ever do so. I haven’t written about some critical family situations that have occurred over the past year. (even writing those last two rather unspecific sentences was very difficult for me)

These things have all majorly impacted my life and have played roles in continuing to define who I am. But, ultimately, they present a barrier I haven’t been able to cross. I’m trying to figure out a way to confront this that doesn’t make me feel that I’m outing other people’s most personal moments. I need to find a way that’s comfortable for me to write about these things, because not writing about them has left some very big unwritten holes in this blog.


I’m Sick, I’m Going Off Meds, and Going Off Meds Is Making Me Sick.
Monday August 12th 2013, 10:39 pm
Filed under: Health (Not Cancer), Me, Myself, and Reid

During chemo, I was put on a whole bunch of painkillers because I was in a whole bunch of pain. I still have a lot of pain, but it doesn’t usually compare to the levels of pain I experienced during chemo. It gets that bad sometimes, though, and when it does, it’s harder to be positive about it. It was easier to be positive about the pain when I knew it was from the chemo that was destroying my cancer, when I knew the pain was a side-effect of saving my life. But I’m not fighting cancer anymore. The chemo did its job and left my system a while ago.

Once chemo ended, I wanted to start getting off all these painkillers, posthaste. While they do a fairly decent job of killing pain, they are also very addictive–even when used responsibly. My brain (and probably yours and everyone else’s brain), as it turns out, is really, really dumb. When it comes to pain medication (and probably drugs of any kinds), our brains act like small children. They’re thrilled to play with cool new chemicals they’ve never seen before, chemicals they quickly decide they absolutely must have and that belong exclusively to them and that they want to play with all the time and that they’ll scream bloody murder and kick you over and over and over if you try taking away from them. Our brains never wanted these chemicals, they were totally fine without these chemicals, and, in fact, they didn’t even know these chemicals existed. Addictive drugs fill a need our brains never knew they needed… just like iPods.

Despite my ongoing pain, I’ve really wanted off of these meds for way too long. I can’t simply stop taking them, because my brain will throw a temper tantrum of gigantic proportions and I will not be able to tolerate that for very long. I need help getting off of these meds in a healthy way that fools my brain into being happy with smaller and smaller doses until it forgets about the meds and moves on to play with something else. I can’t do this by myself, which is a big reason I have pain management doctors. There are tons of side effects to these meds, including keeping me in constant mental fog that doesn’t allow me to think clearly, screwing with my memory, and flat-out preventing my use of other meds I should be taking (such as migraine recovery medication).

Withdrawal is the problem I face. It’s the brain’s temper tantrum. To be clear, I’ve never abused any of the drugs I was prescribed–normal, doctor-order medical use is what led to my body’s addictions. For years, I’ve told my pain doctors that I need their help to get off of these medications. For years, I’ve received two responses:

1) “If you go off your pain medications, you might have pain.”

While this is true, there’s really only one way to find out: go off of the pain medications. If I have more pain after I’m off the meds, then we can deal with that problem. Preferably by some non-addictive means. Ironically, if I wasn’t on these pain meds, there are so many other kinds of medication I could use to potentially help manage my pain. Not to mention biofeedback techniques that don’t involve any medication at all, such as mind-body imagery, targeted breathing, and good, old-fashioned meditation.

2) “It’s really not a bad thing to stay on these drugs your entire life.”

This might be true for some people. If there are people that can take painkillers responsibly for their entire lives without feeling that they’re impaired cognitively, emotionally, or physically, well then, bully for them! Seriously, that’s great. But I have felt like my mind is only partially in this dimension for almost six years now. I feel like I’m floating, like my head is in the clouds, and that clouds are in my head. Lots of clouds. So many clouds. Really, really dense clouds. And I don’t want my head anywhere near clouds anymore.

Earlier this summer, I finally decided to just tell my pain doc that I was going off of one of my pain meds. She questioned my decision, she tried to convince me I was wrong, but, in the end, she gave me her blessing. Her blessing was mostly meaningless. She told me how much I could stop taking at a time, lowering the dose of medication I was taking until I was taking none. This is important information, but it’s more hypothetical thinking than any sort of actual in-the-field working plan.

I’m currently going off clonazepam–a powerful muscle relaxant, also used to control seizures and anxiety–which is known as klonopin to its close friends. It was prescribed to me when the ulcerated, necrotic, radiation burn on my back was causing muscles throughout my abdomen to seize up, causing extraordinary pain on top of the constant pain that came from having a huge, complicated burn on my back. I underwent surgery that removed that burn nearly two years ago. There was recovery from the operation and I still don’t have feeling in several places on my back, but it’s been awhile since I’ve had the problem for which the clonazepam was originally prescribed.

It’s been a battle getting off this stuff. Some days my body shakes uncontrollably, some days I have anxiety attacks, some days I feel itchy all over, and on a lot of days I just don’t feel like myself. My body is rebelling against me, against what’s best for it. I’m fighting through this rebellion because I’m determined to reach my goal of being off all these painkillers. In the meantime, my brain is throwing temper tantrums about not having as many cool chemicals to play with.

Stupid brain.


I Didn’t Post Anything Yesterday And It Turns Out I’m Okay With That.
Sunday August 11th 2013, 11:12 pm
Filed under: Health (Not Cancer), Me, Myself, and Reid

I gave myself a very specific time limit to write last night, and once I hit it, I closed my laptop and went to sleep. I’m proud very proud that I was able to stop writing. Normally, I’m great at beating myself up. If there was a “Beat Reid Levin Up” contest, I guarantee that I would win. It’s never something I consciously think about doing, it just happens. Often times–probably most of the time–it doesn’t even make logical sense.

For example, even though there are clearly hundreds of medical tests that scientifically prove that I’m sick, I will often give myself an extremely hard time about being sick. You’re so lazy! Why don’t you get out of bed? Why don’t you try to accomplish something? Are you really even sick? Just like that, in the second person and everything. And I don’t really fight back.

It’s part of my automatic thought process and it has been for a long time. I’ve been actively trying to change this for several years now. It turns out that it’s really hard to change the way I (and I’d suspect most people) think. I don’t mean changing what I think about things like people and issues, rather, changing how I actually think–changing my inner monologue. The goal of this difficult push has been to allow me to cut myself some slack. Even when I had cancer, I’d constantly think, You’re not contributing anything to society! So I’d do something to prove myself wrong, which made me sicker, which discouraged me to no end, at which point I’d start it all over again. It was a bad cycle, and is often still a bad cycle.

All that is to say is that I’m really happy that last night, I didn’t think to myself that I had to finish a post. I didn’t think that if I didn’t post something, I’d be letting myself down. I didn’t reflect on the situation and tell myself that I was lazy. I just accepted it. And as happy as I am about this, I’m also very surprised. This is the first time in a long time that I was able to simply accept that I’d reached a boundary I’d set for myself and that’s all it was. There’s nothing else to read into what I’d done. It was what it was.

I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve tried to stop writing by a self-imposed deadline, only to have it turn into something terrible and scary. I’d try to go to sleep, only to be consumed by thoughts of how terrible it was that I couldn’t finish what I started. I’d get out of bed and write some more, and then get mad at myself for breaking my time limit. And so it would go, on and on and on, until I was too exhausted to get out of bed. The scary part is always feeling like I’m not in control.

I was worried about it last night. I was keenly aware of my looming time limit and I had a twinge of fear about how I’d react to not finishing something by my deadline. I turned out to be just fine with it. It seems to me that the unexpected feeling of being okay with it is an indication that I’ve begun to change the way I think. I was truly surprised by my own thought process.

One of my goals with writing again has been to let myself off the hook. I don’t think I’m cured of this in any way, or that I’m anywhere near having completely changed the way I think. I’m only in the very early stages of changing these things, but it feel really good to know that I’ve started making progress.

Another goal was to write and not get caught up in edits and rewrites, because that has kept me from posting consistently for the past two years. I want to go back and change the structure of this post, I want to add in a few jokes, I want to take out some repetitive ideas… but I’m not going to.

I’m going to sleep.


Breastfeeding In Public: A Non-Offensive Blog Entry About A Non-Offensive Topic
Friday August 09th 2013, 5:23 pm
Filed under: Friends, Liberty!

Over the past several years, several of my friends (women, mostly) have been giving birth to babies, a particularly popular group of people to whom birth is often given. I have reason to believe the exponential increase in friends with babies correlates directly with the exponential increase, over the same time period, in the number of articles I’ve seen posted on Facebook about the controversy surrounding breastfeeding in public. Although I’ve been aware of this issue my entire life–having once been a baby, myself–I’ve never understood its detractors.

Of those people who are offended by seeing a woman breastfeeding a baby in public, I don’t understand what part of them is offended. Does it strike them as raunchy? I’ll admit that I’m passingly familiar with the concept of women’s breasts being sexualized. I mean, I’m pretty sure I heard that somewhere. But breastfeeding babies isn’t that–it’s something different altogether. And I truly don’t understand why people have trouble making that distinction. Women have been breastfeeding babies for as long as women have been having babies (a really, really long time, scientifically speaking). It seems like an absolutely, downright crazy part of life to get upset about.

Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of things in life to get upset about, if you want to expend your energy that way. Breastfeeding in public just doesn’t seem like one of those things. In fact, if anyone wants a list of reasonable things to get upset about, you can send me a hundred dollars ($100). I won’t send you anything in return, especially not the list of reasonable things to be upset about that I just implied I’d send you upon receipt of your (my) hundred dollars. Then you’ll understand what it feels like to have something reasonable to be upset about.

Thanks to Jesse Hilb Akos for inspiring this particular post today, and to all of my other friends who are mothers (women, mostly) that are vocal about this subject.


I Forgot To Name This Blog Post Before I Posted It In (On?) My Blog.
Thursday August 08th 2013, 11:10 pm
Filed under: Attack Of The Internet!, Friends, Health (Not Cancer), Technobabble, Who Knows?

Dear blog,

I wanted to make sure to write in you today, so that I could have some kind of a streak. That way, when I inevitably miss a day of blogging, I can tell people, “Yeah, I may not have written in my blog today, but I happen to be the guy that wrote in his blog on two consecutive days. I know, I’m impressed, too.”

1) I went to the hospital this morning, where I had a bunch of tests run to gather data for my immunologist. Together, all the various weird tests were completed two hours ahead of schedule! Yippee!

2) As soon as I got home from the the hospital, I received a telephone call informing me that I needed to go back to the hospital because they mistakenly did not suck enough of my blood while I was there. I knew I wasn’t feeling lightheaded enough! Ha ha! Phlebotomy jokes! Yeah.

3)Those two hours I saved seem slightly less impressive now. But only slightly.

4) As a result of getting out two hours early, I was able to have lunch with my friend Summer today. You probably know Summer from the season named after her that is currently taking the entire Northern Hemisphere by storm. Ha ha! Meteorology jokes! Yeah.

4 again) Anyway, spending even a bit of time with a friend in the middle of the day gave me a big boost that got me through the rest of my considerably-less-interesting-day. It never fails!

5) It occurs to me that I don’t know whether what I’m doing right now at this very moment is writing in or on my blog. I thought I knew what I was doing all this time, but now I feel like a big phony.

6) It occurs to me that I’m using a lot of italics in this post. So here’s a big thank you to Italy for giving the world leaning letters to match your whimsical leaning tower:


7) I’m much more proud of the CSS I just wrote from memory than the really lame joke I used the CSS to create (I used geeky Internet code to make those letters bigger).



P.S. I made a few edits after I published this, which broke my self imposed deadline. I only spent a few minutes touching things up, though, instead of several months, only to totally rewrite the whole thing and then never show it to anyone. Getting better!

P.P.S. Argh. I’ve been editing and adding and rewriting for 30 minutes. That’s it, though, I’m done. I’m unplugging my computer now. Goodnight WordPress and goodnight editing. Goodnight, blog and goodnight rewrites. Goodnight, Web.

P.P.P.S. Oh no! My computer is a laptop!

Good Immunology, OCD, and Blogging!
Wednesday August 07th 2013, 3:10 pm
Filed under: Health (Not Cancer), Me, Myself, and Reid

1) I have not posted in my blog for a long time due to my OCD. I’ve still been writing a lot about my life, but I haven’t been sharing any of that writing it here. In an effort to push through the anxiety-inducing obstacle of my OCD, I’m going to try to post short blurbs here regularly (short for me, anyway).

2) I had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad experience with a fake immunologist at the end of June. He crushed my spirits and I think he felt really good about it.

3) Overall, I’ve been feeling pretty good for the past week-and-a-half, which might be some kind of new record. I saw a new immunologist last week, who was great. He’s definitely the right person for me to see.

Tomorrow, I’m going in for a lot of really diverse tests so that he can get a fuller picture of what’s going on inside my body right now. I feel like I’m finally moving forward (coincidentally, my favorite direction to move) after well over a year-and-a-half of feeling like the recovery my health had plateaued. I’m extremely happy with this doctor and the entire situation, which is not a way I’ve felt in a really, really long time.

That’s all for now! I’m totally not having a panic attack about leaving this as is and not going back and adding things and over-editing it and rewriting the whole thing and AAAAAAaaaaokay…