Liver Disease and a Little Bit of Jaundice

I have a hard time distinguishing the exact color of my skin. I like to think of my skin as being light brown with a bronzy glow, but others might say it's more pale with an orange glow. If you know your color wheel... white plus orange is pretty much YELLOW.... which now with my new discovery of "Jaundice" is the color of death. A few days ago, I was talking to a friend who told me that a friend of a friend's sister turned yellow one morning and died. Healthy as can be and one morning her liver gave out, got Jaundice, and died. People really shouldn't tell me stories like this. 

A few days post storytelling, my upper right abdomen started to to throb. I thought it was a stomach ache and popped a few tums. The next morning the throbbing didn't subside. I looked in the mirror and noticed that my skin color
was more yellow than normal and I began to worry. All the worrying of course made it worse and turned a mild pain into a sharp stabbing pain. Web MD told me it was liver damage. Mayo Clinic told me it was liver damage. And my parents told me it was liver damage. Symptoms include - Jaundice, upper right abdomen pain that shifts to your back, and belching.  Causes are - Hepatitis, Alcoholism, Crohn's Disease, and TYLENOL.... Crap, I have liver damage. A few months ago I had two root canals (but diagnosed them as migraines) and ate Tylenol for Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner for about 3 months straight. This must have definitely ruined my liver. And now I am going to die with a liver that looks like an ash tray.

I went to the herbal store and bought seven different kinds of herbs that were supposed to rejuvenate the liver. I cut out all fried food, sweets, and meats from my diet. And spent seventy two dollars and sixty three cents on "How to Cope with a Damaged Liver" inspirational book. Nothing was working, the pain was constant. I tried to resist calling my doctor because she thinks I'm nuts but I couldn't help it. I finally broke down. I called my pediatrician and told her my worries. She took a blood test. Negative. I was not convinced, I went to my second doctor. Blood test = negative. Still not convinced. I went to my third doctor. Blood test = negative.... CT scan = negative and an Ultra Sound = negative. Jaundice = due to using a very cheap self tanning lotion and Hypochondira. But still.... negative. 

With all this negativness my doctor diagnosed me with anxiety. Thank God you can't die from anxiety....

Or can you? 

Broken Arm

When I was 16, I begged my parents to let me drive up to Lake Tahoe with my friends for a weekend of snowboarding and winter fun. Usually, I would be extra cautious and choose sledding or a game of monopoly over an "extreme" winter sport but for some reason I was feeling daring. I signed up for a beginners snowboarding class. We learned how to clasp our board to our feet, how to maneuver the board on flat snow, and then we learned how to get off the ski lift...

I hopped on the bench with my instructor by my side and awaited the dreaded end of the lift. “Turn your body sideways, bend your knees and gently slide off” said the instructor. I turned my body sideways, I bent my knees, and slid off… Slid off straight into a trashcan and toppled sideways off the track and underneath the other bench lifts, hitting my head on ice and landing on my wrist at a terribly wrong angle. I self diagnosed that it was broken. I started crying, more from fear rather than pain. I advised my instructor that I needed an ambulance and a cast pronto. Before I knew it I was strapped down, and being sledded to the ER.

Since I was under 18, I needed parent authorization to receive an X Ray and of course… because I assured my parents that “everything will be fine, I’m an adult, I’m careful” I couldn’t just call them and tell them that fifteen minutes into snowboarding, I broke my arm. I decided to suck it up and deal with it (this being my new daring self). We left the ER and went back to our room. I cut up a cereal box, got a towel and tape and made my own arm cast. We still had two days on our trip and I paid for a weekends worth of snowboarding rentals so I just couldn’t let it go to waste. The next morning I strapped on my board and insured my arm cast was tight. My arm stretched out in front of me, my pants pulled up high, I slid down the so called hill, inch by inch. People would yell and make fun of me from the sidelines… little did they know I was tougher than all of them put together. My arm was broken and I was still snowboarding in a homemade cast.

Two days and a four hour car ride later, I returned home and unwrapped my arm. I told my dad I think I should go to the doctor, my arm feels “funny”. We got to the hospital and I received an XRay
“You’re arm looks perfectly fine.”
“Wait WHAT?”
“Just a small bruise that’s all"
.......
Ya I'm real tough....

Skin Cancer

Moles. I have lots of them. Small ones, big ones, brown ones, red ones, round ones, square ones you name it. These small little dots can cause a lot of fear and stress in your life if you're like me, a Hypochondriac. If you think about it, these little moles can really determine whether you live... or you die.

Right after my college graduation my parents whisked me away on a surprise retreat to this fabulouse resort in the mountains of Upstate New York. Hikes in the mornings, swimming and spa treatments during the day, outdoor movies at night, all along with five star meals three times a day. All was going well, until our second day hike towards the over look tower. "What is that on your back?" .... "Ya ooh that doesn't look normal, it's discolored." "Oh and it looks like the shape is sort of morphing." My parents were talking about a mole on my back that I've had my entire life that now apparently looks "interesting" and "unusual".

Needless to say, that morning hike caused a great deal of stress in my life from then on after. I returned back to the room and immediately began to research, "abnormal moles" "melanoma" "skin cancer" "How long does it take for a mole to metastasize and kill you?" It. Was. Terrible. Dinner conversations, day time conversations all changed to the discussion of how I need to wear sunscreen all the time, never go out in the sun, and I've done this to myself. I've killed myself with skin cancer. It didn't help that just before al this I was watching the Real Housewives of Orange Country where Kimberly got Skin Cancer and had to move away to Colorado. There I was, I couldn't eat, I couldn't concentrate on anything other than the brownish red spot growing on my back and how I would have to move away from California (If I didn't die beforehand).

 I flew home and went to the doctor to get all my moles checked. Did you know that these little moles can metastasize, and spread cancer to your BRAIN? Thankfully my parents were wrong and the moles were "normal" and "not unusual at all" nothing spread to my brain. But being a Hypochondriac like me, I needed it to be definite. For awhile at least. So I got every single mole removed that was terrifying me so much. I wear sunscreen religiously and have invested in a bottle of self tanner. Hooray!

Eye Cancer

Yes it exists. It's new. They just discovered it a few months ago and lovely Mr. Perez Hilton had to inform me: http://perezhilton.com/?p=62950&cp=2 I guess we all know, you can have cancer of just about anything these days. The common cause is too much sun exposure (aka tanning beds and no sunglasses = what I do all the time) Once I read this article, I started to think about it daily and nightly,  I began to believe it and before I knew it, my vision went completely haywire.  I noticed that if I stare at a white wall, one eye sees the wall with a more cream hue and the other is more white. When I touched my right eye in the mornings it makes a squishy sound. When I read a book, the letters become blurry. In the mirror my right eye seems to be a bit larger than my left and when driving in the car, I blink way too much.

     I described all these symptoms to my eye doctor who took detailed notes. He dilated my eyes and ran every test in the book. The fact that doctors act so seriously and take such precaution with my ridiculous symptoms, makes me believe the symptoms actually exist and freak me out all the more.

    "You have 20/20 vision, nothing is wrong with you. May be it's a sinus infection?" And here we go all over again...

     Funny enough, after all these appointments, I realized that I wasn't dizzy and my head really didn't hurt so bad. My eyes saw just fine and the right eye was symmetrical with my left. I got in my car and drove home relieved, only to realize that with my dilated eyes I couldn't see a single stop sign, light, or street name. I relied on my autopilot memory to get me home and I ran my poor new Jetta straight into a pole...

Brain Tumor.... again.

A few months ago while vacationing in Hawaii I suddenly got a splitting headache (check blog from 9/25/09). I was constantly dizzy, nauseous and naturally scared that I was going to die from an aneurism. It's been two months since then and clearly I didn't die but the pain didn't subside for eight weeks. WebMD told me I had a brain tumor:

SYMPTOMS:

Headaches (Check!)

Nausea or vomiting (Check!)

Changes in speech, vision, or hearing (Half Check!)

Problems balancing or walking (....)

Changes in mood, personality, or ability to concentrate (I'm way more irratible now that I think I'm DYING.)

Problems with memory (I normally have that problem.. Check!)

Muscle jerking or twitching (If I concentrate real hard... Check!)

Numbness or tingling in the arms or legs (...not yet)

I immediately scheduled an appointment with my doctor after the trip. I told her I was dying and needed to be seen immediately. She told me I just had a sinus infection and to just take some Sudafed. Sudafed my ass, I'm dying I tell you. I've watched Grey’s Anatomy, I KNOW. 

I moved to LA on my 22nd birthday and instead of spending it like a normal human being, I scheduled an emergency appointment for a CT scan. Upon my arrival I was whisked away into express registration and sat in the wait room with 30 other patients. I got called in for my scan 1 minute later. BEFORE the woman whose kid was spitting blood. This must mean I have something serious! I laid in the tube for 30 minutes  trying to stay calm. Jesus (pronounced Hay-sus) told me I would know the results in four days.

Four days is an eternity in the life of a hypochondriac so I started my non stop calling to the hospital for the results the very next day. After three calls a day, for three days, I actually made phone friends with Violet the receptionist. On my ninth call, Violet informed me that my CT scan turned out 100% normal. This was probably the best news I have ever heard in my entire life but before I could celebrate and rest easy, Dr. Wiemer informed me that although my scan was fine, my symptoms can be caused by an eye problem... 

Tonsillitis

Good news, I didn't have throat cancer and my little throat enemy disappeared. But... Dr. Zimmerman so kindly informed me that my tonsils were the size of walnuts and if the swelling didn't go down, I would have to get my poor poor tonsils taken out. I got antibiotics from strep throat and prayed on everything that things wouldn't come down to me losing my adenoids. I know millions of people get their tonsils taken out all the time no big deal but I also know some people who have lost their voice FOREVER from the surgery going wrong. Ok, I've heard of it happening to one person but still the odds are there. I always hate it when people give me statistics like "99% of the time surgery goes according to plan." I mean ok, what if I'M the %1 percent that it doesn't go according to plan and I die? What then? It's things like this:

Less common or rare risks include:

• More serious bleeding.
• Anesthetic complications.
• Death after surgery (very rare).

When they use words like "less common" or "rare" or "very rare" that really make me wonder, WHAT IF I'M THE RARITY.  Point is, you never know what can happen to YOU no matter what the odds or percentages are. If you're the unlucky %1 percent it really doesn't matter how great the statistics are, be them %50 or %99. It really bugs me when WebMD, doctors, surgens and your parents say this to make you feel better. In this case, I was the lucky percent that the antibiotics worked, my walnut tonsils turned back to peanut tonsils, and I didn't have to get anything cut out. Amen.

Throat Cancer

I had a really bad sore throat for a few weeks. I came to terms that I am a Hypochondriac and am really trying to get better so I took it as a cold and piled up my medicine cabinet with all sorts of drugs. Once I started to get feverish I decided it was time to see the doctor. Since I was away at college I had to go to the "highly advanced" college health center where they have graduate students evaluate your issues. I opened my mouth and said "Ahh" to this short little blond girl, Dr. Strauss. "Huh. Interesting" she says. The two words you never want your doctor to say to you. "... Seems like you have a cyst growing in the back of your throat... It's possibly benign but I'm going to refer you to a specialist" GREAT. The referral wasn't for two weeks so I had to sit there Google Imaging cysts and comparing it to my own thinking I had throat cancer for 14 days and 13 sleepless nights. People DIE from cysts. I called my Pediatrician across the country to talk to her about the little enemy growing in my mouth. I established a Skype session just to show my parents what 'it' looked like. I e-mailed a picture I took of 'it' and e-mailed it to my roomate's dad. Random people I would meet, would know about 'it' within a few minutes of my introduction as I tried to have them analyze it's shape. 

On the day of my appointment I could have sworn 'it' grew bigger. I trekked through the snow to the address on my paper to see Dr. Zimmerman. Dr, Strauss had failed to inform me that Dr. Zimmerman's office was at the NYU.... Hospital. That's basically another word for 'Graveyard'. It was also in the CANCER WARD of the HOSPITAL. Which is basically another word for 'Death'. I sat down in the waiting room next to a little old man. He turned to me and said something I couldn't understand because guess what? He didn't have a TONGUE. They must have removed his tongue because of his throat cancer (I read about this procedure online). My eyes filled up with tears as I tried to conceive what the rest of my life was going to be like without a tongue and with throat cancer. They called my name seventeen minutes later. Dr. Zimmerman stuck a camera up my nose and checked my throat and ears. "It's just a small cyst. It's benign and will go away on it's own in a few weeks." Before I could breath out my relief.... "But, huh, your tonsils are very swollen, looks like those babies might need to be removed."  ........ to be continued........