Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Catherine Zeta-Jones goes to work

It is difficult to make choices re: health care needs. Is it more important to continue buying anti-virals, or to get help with rapid cycling? The neurologist already fell out this week as the doctor’s fee and refill medication are out of budget. Hopefully it will be possible to qualify for healthcare eventually, though genetic conditions make it difficult to qualify.

Had a frightening episode on the bus today, after the bus driver attempted to drive past me, to avoid picking me up with my service dog. I got into an altercation with her. It was out of control. I was beside myself. Considering going to the ER to get temporary relief if it stays bad.

My mom reminded me that Catherine Zeta-Jones goes to work, and she's Bipolar. She’s even in a play now. Every night. All week. Imagine. I remind her that Catherine Zeta-Jones has health insurance, and takes a year off whenever she feels like it. At least that’s how I imagine it. I imagine the doctor comes running whenever she calls – even in the middle of the night. Her husband no doubt pours him a drink before he leaves. They acknowledge their mutual indebtedness. Call anytime, really. I doubt Catherine Zeta-Jones carries the suicide hotline number around on her keychain.

My poor mom wanted to know how much to see the new doctor? But it is not just about the growing cadre of doctors needed. It is about ongoing habilitation expenses every day for the rest of this life. It seems impossible to justify these growing expenses.

Once upon a time people died before 40, and most of them never knew they carried these peculiar genes, because they died before these afflictions escalate. We last way too long these days.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Autonomous Mechanics

My vertigo spiraled out of control when I went to watch the Robotics Competition over the weekend. I burst into tears when I first sat down at the top of the arena, followed by 20 minutes of intermittent laughing and crying from all the environmental stress. After an hour and a half of pounding music, spinning lights, flying frisbees, and the sound of 60 autonomous robots whirring and clanking, I was on the verge of vomiting and could not properly lift my feet (sliding feet slowly in order to move forward). After venturing into the pit and walking with (smudged) goggles I was sweating profusely and panicking, and needed help leaving the arena. My Otoneurologist said the balance and cognitive problems could be brain damage from years of vertigo. Has anyone heard of this? The strange part is the worst balance problems started when the vertigo subsided temporarily – maybe because the brain for so long tried to correct for it. And continues to try to correct for it, even when it's absent. Weird. Hopefully I can eventually get rehabilitation for this damage, and regain my balance.

Despite the distress I was so happy to see my son in his element. His team placed 5th out of 60 teams, and won 2 trophies including top-seeded rookie team. I realized that it is not about me at all. I need to get up everyday for important reasons, but I have to remind myself: It has nothing to do with me. Life goes on, even when my own goals are annihilated.