graceland's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Poked and Prodded, Waiting on Results It's been a looooooooooonnnng week. I was traveling the early part of the week for business. Nothing like being trapped in a plane for 3 hours ON the runway prior to takeoff. I spoke to a audience of over 100 people, I met with the group of masters students who asked me if I would provide counsel for their senior project and I went back into the hospital for some more tests. I haven't been having the racing heart or problem breathing, but I had been having a tightness in my left upper chest and left arm, and pins and needles in my left arm and shoulder. The first day or two I thought I might have slept on it wrong, so I let it go. By Thursday night, my left thumb had gone numb and I was in a great deal of pain. One of my coworkers came in saw me and asked me what was wrong, I guess I had lost my color, and they sent me to the hospital. So exactly one week later, I'm back in the same ER. My neighbor, a doctor there, didn't have a resident to look at me and as he said, since it's the second time I had to come in, he was going to check me out himself. All of my cardiac tests and bloodwork were great. My blood pressure wasn't bad, but my heart rate is high. They had someone with me tracking when the pain would start in my arm and apparently, at the same time my vitals would become distressed, so they could see that there was something causing physical pain. It was reassuring to know that I'm not crazy; it just didn't feel like anxiety. This pain has been different, especially the left arm and upper left back. So, I spent Thursday night getting all sorts of tests done. The CAT scan ruled out a number of things, but most importantly, pulmonary embulism. The doctors still can't figure it out, but when I went into the CAT scan, with my arms over my head and the dye running through my body, the area's causing me pain started to convulse. Like tiny muscle spasms. So potentionally, what may be causing the pain is either a nerve problem (like a pinched nerve or carpel tunnel) or a musculature problem (whatever that is). And the pain from whatever the problem may be, is making my heart beat faster. They also testing my thyroid to see if it might be overactive. I find out a lot more next week. More tests are coming. Additionally, I heard from my former best guy friend. This month has been really hard, but good, since he cut me off. He claims he didn't cut me off. He called me around 9:30am on Friday as I was just getting up after having spent most of the night and the morning in the hospital, drunk and wired and demanding that I take the day off and go with him to some Turkish Bath. Suddenly, everything was clear to me. I haven't heard from him in a month because he's been using. He knows that I've been clean for about that time. I made an announcement weeks ago that I was done with drugs. The party was officially over. It just wasn't fun anymore. It was gross. I would look around at everyone, at like 9am, in a swanky hotel room that someone rented when we all live here in NYC anyway, and think, "You people look pathetic. You look like shit." And if they looked like that to me, I could only imagine how I looked to them. It had become really dirty. And stale. The very last time I did it, the notion suddenly hit me that this was going to kill me and not at 70. Like this year. And for maybe the second time in my life, I realized that I'm not ready to die. I want to live. I want to see more of the world and have more relationships and do what people do when they live long lives. Blah Blah Blah. So I mentioned all of this to my best guy friend at that time and I guess that may have made him feel like he needed to shut me out because he's not done yet. He's a few months behind me on the party train. I explained to him that I'm not taking the day off, I'm going to work, and that I'm not using anymore. I think he started to feel badly and that wasn't my intent. I explained to him, there's no judging here. I live in a glass house. And frankly, it's pretty much my fault he's on the party train. You see, he got on by trying to get me off. He wanted me to stop using last spring and made me promise with him that I would. He figured out that I just started to hide it from him then, so he decided to join me so I wouldn't be by myself. I realize that makes abolutely no sense whatsoever, and could be the stupidest thing many people have ever heard. I get that. But you aren't him or me. I understand what he did and why he did it. He threw himself in front of a bullet for me. Not just for me, for the thrill also. We talked for a little while. It sounds like it's getting dirty for him too. I can tell he's at the tale end of this party train, but he's not done. He's got a couple of months to party before he gets clean for himself. I told him that. I told him that's ok. I toldhim that I'd offer him any help he needed but that I also know he's a strong person who is capable to help himself when the time came. There aren't many people I know who *are* capable of helping themselves out of a habit. I know he is. And until then, I'm just not interested in hanging out. I don't feel like we have a lot in common right now. If he wants to call me and talk, I'll always be here for him. I can't wait until he cleans up and we can sit down and talk about the last year and few months of our lives. We're going have a lot to talk about it. Oh, and one more thing. It feels really great to be clean. It's like seeing the world through a new pair of eyes. I'm finding enjoyment in simple things I completely forgot about. Like springtime flowers and ice cream cones. 12:09 p.m. - 2006-04-29 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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