Heh. You all wonder where I might have been hiding myself lately…the ones who notice anyways. Things are…things are basically shit on a shingle, as my dad used to say.
AS IF I didn’t have enough of a party with my little adventures in the hospital, I now have something even more precious and delicious to worry about.
And before I reveal this, I wanted to write this the other day: you fools who have never had to deal with the actual manifestations of marfan syndrome beyond what your negative imagination has allowed you to believe really need to cut the shit and get on with things. Life is a short and precious thing. There is no rhyme and reason behind who is afforded what gifts over another, as I have come into contact with some pretty vile and despicable creatures who might try dealing with a devastating disease to actually even just appear to be a real and deserving human being. I found this apathy when I was actually looking for people who were group leaders in charge of support groups who had dealt with the effects of going through any of this. Most had no experience going through any of it because they had not had a thing happen to them or anyone in their families.
Anyways, yeah I’m a little bitter, eh?
Today Anne took me to the otolaryngologist’s office to check on my fancy pants hoarse voice causing vocal chords. And because I am just so lucky, we were told both my vocal chords were out (paralyzed), and that they were limited in what they could do. They could surgically pull them back together which would cause me to have an audible wheeze every time I breathed as a result of constricting the airway since they weren’t moving on their own. Or we could inject one and just “see how it did” hoping that it would have a nicer tone and move back to where it should be. As it is they are perpetually open, causing me to choke on my own breath and liquids sometimes. This whole little injection thing is usually no big deal, a same day procedure where you go in and get let out the same day. Because I had a stroke, however, I would have to be in at least 6 days to allow for my coumadin and heparin therapy to kick in. This does not guarantee I won’t have another stroke, it’s just their best insurance against it, so I’m not exactly willing to risk the whole brain function thing to have people hear me. I am a writer anyways.
I just have to remember that.
http://www.entcolumbia.org/vocpar.htm
Thanks Anne, for the info….;)
May 12, 2006 at 1:47 am
I love you Francis. XO
May 12, 2006 at 6:02 pm
😉
right back atcha francine.
xox
May 12, 2006 at 2:40 am
that sucks. hmmm, we’ll just have to get you a megaphone. 🙂
May 12, 2006 at 5:57 pm
haha
I thought of this.
My new solution is to carry around a pad and paper when I’m out in public and need to order or ask for things. I haven’t had one positive experience yet trying to be heard. Every motherfucker who has heard me immediately lowers their voice to a raspy whisper to make fun of me. Probably assuming its a cold and that I think it’s funny.
The guy today looked a little perplexed when I told him how inappropriate he was after making fun of me trying to order a bagel.
Oh well. Now I guess I get to see even lower and more miserable sides of people I didn’t need to see, or hear.
May 12, 2006 at 3:04 am
Jesus. Have they said what the risk is for lung infection or with breathing problems because of this… because I think in making the decision on this one I would be weighing the risk of stroke… (and I’d ask for a percentage if they can give you some estimate) against the risk of something going wrong because of the vocal chord paralysis. I would also ask your health insurance co. if you are reimbursed for a 2nd opinion. If you are are… I highly recommend getting one.
I don’t even know what to say… You’ve been through it. I wish for you some relief seriously… soon.
May 12, 2006 at 5:53 pm
eh
I’m actually becoming a little less than hopeful about this stuff anymore. I am going to someone on Tuesday who can help me learn how to swallow without the choking and stuff. Eddie has a friend who has had a vocal coach who might be able to help some.
The stroke isn’t something I’m willing to risk just because people can’t hear me. It doesn’t really matter so much that people hear me anymore; I moved to New York a shy person and now I am medically induced to be shy. Maybe some day it will come back. At this point I just can’t care anymore.
I’m just done with all of this shit. Thanks for the well wishes anyways. 😉
May 12, 2006 at 6:45 pm
Re: eh
Oh… yea, I can understand wanting to just take it easy and not deal with anymore poking and probing at this point.. The stroke thing scares the shit out of me as well. I’m on warfarin for my valve and I get scared just missing a night of flossing before bed… but sometimes I just get so tired around menses (which is just intensified by the anticoagulant). I dare not miss taking iron or risk slowly beginning a downward progression towards zombie-land… There are those times I miss and then I think — never again. I will NOT do that again… my immune system isn’t its strongest then. It is just stupid to miss. I think of my coworker who had a stroke.. and think of going to visit her after and how she struggled and cried to communicate Somehow… but was just unable. I don’t want that to be. I don’t want to end up dependent like that. We always know that could be part of reality at some point and that fear condones a fierce determination to stay healthy as best we can. I don’t blame you at all…
May 12, 2006 at 6:53 pm
Re: eh
‘i don’t want that to be me’ (i meant)
‘could be part of our reality’ (i meant)
i really need to start proofreading before i post…
grrrr 🙂