Category Archives: medical anomaly

home is awesome

Posted in everyday kimli, i'm an astronaut, international kimli, medical anomaly, vroom vroom by

Home! Man, I like home.

Edmonton was great. The weather was perfect – not too hot at all – and we got to spend some quality time with the in-laws and also cousins. Some obligatory shopping was done (love that no PST), many donairs were eaten (okay only two, but they were enormous and oh so tasty), and good times were had all ‘round. The visit seemed incredibly short, but we got a lot done.

The ride back was nice, too. The weather was overcast for the first 7 hours of the 13 hour drive, so it wasn’t too taxing on the head and the scenery was gorgeous as usual. The cats were ecstatic to see us, which is always nice – nothing like a little adoration to perk the spirits right up again. A quick shower had us feeling human again, and now we’re back to status quo albeit with a jam packed July to look forward to.

I fucking hate mosquitoes, though. One bit me on the face in Edmonton, and we were pretty much attacked by them in Blue River when we stopped to get gas. Fucking beasts – I bet I have 19 West Nile viruses now.

I brought my wedding dress back from Edmonton. I don’t really know what I’m going to do with it; it’s not some sort of incredible heirloom I need to pass down to my non-existent spawn. I suppose I could sell it, but it wasn’t expensive to begin with – I opted for a bridesmaid dress that was around $200 instead of the traditional crazy expensive fanciness. I don’t want to preserve it – that is lame – but I don’t envision wearing it again, so .. what to do. Donate it? Set it on fire? Frankly, I’m leaning towards the fire – given all the horrible, horrible stress I had over the fucking thing, I’m content that it served its purpose and now it can go away. I wonder if it could be tie-dyed? Heh.

Ed has the day off and I’m working from home. He’s actually on his way to Scooter right now, using his birthday money from his parents to put a deposit down on his Dio – it needs to be imported and upgraded out the wazoo, so he’s giving Wayne the go-ahead to get the process started. SCOOTERS! SCOOTERS FOR EVERYONE! I can’t wait – having people to ride with is so much fun, and Ed’s wanted a scooter pretty much since I got Sally. FUN! Hopefully he’ll get it in time to enjoy a few months of summer riding before we have to store them for the winter, but WHEE!

In Edmonton, we rode a quad. Ed’s dad has an 800cc Polaris something or other, so we took turns riding up the back alley with it. The thing is fucking TERRIFYING – I went (very slowly) up the alley and then turned around (in an utterly graceful 25-point turn) and came right back. It’s about 675 too many ccs for me; I can’t imagine every riding something that powerful on a regular basis. It made me want to come home and hug Oscar in all of his 125cc glory – there is NO WAY I’m ever getting anything bigger. Ed liked it, but there was just way too much power under me for any sort of comfort level. Scary. Kimli no like.

It feels like I’ve been gone from work for weeks, but I only took last Friday off. I suppose it’s good that no one missed me – next week I’ll be gone for 4 days to help my mom and I’ll feel guilty every time I think about work even though I know I shouldn’t. It’s tough having a superiority complex – people aren’t supposed to be able to deal with my not being around, damnit. I expect tears and wailing and a sense of utter hopelessness – how DARE you manage for yourselves! You’re supposed to NEED me!

Okay, answering my very few emails now. *sniff*

no rest for the wikked \o/

Posted in medical anomaly, vroom vroom by

This weekend is making me tired.

We’re off to Victoria after work tonight, to help my mom move some stuff over to her new place. It’s going to be an exhausting weekend; we’ll arrive late tonight then spend two days moving crap before returning home late Sunday. So much for a restful weekend – good thing there’s a long weekend coming up soon.

There are some new pictures up at Ye Olde Flickr, including shots of Oscar and Sally side by side. Oscar is big. Ed is in love. I am anxious to begin riding for real, so I need to get my permit ASAP. I dream of being able to ride Oscar to the island, and that’ll never happen unless I’m all legal about it so I plan to study the motorcycle textbook this weekend and take the test on Monday. I haven’t had to take a test in years, so I’m kind of nervous. What if I fail?! Oh, the humiliation! Quick, anyone have a cheat sheet?

Fuck, I’m tired. I also think I have arm cancer. Since my accident in April, there’s been a strange spot on my upper left arm that is alternately painful and numb. Odder still is the fact that I dislocated my right arm; why my left hurts is beyond me. I’d just chalk it up to a bruise, but I didn’t fall on that side (my entire left side was pretty much untouched), and the sensation is wholly unusual. I’m going to get it checked out at some point, solely because there’s a birthmark where the pain is coming from. I don’t think I have melanomas – I’m a nerd; I don’t get much sun – but all the things that you’re supposed to check for are there:

  • It’s ever so slightly asymmetrical
  • The border is irregular if I squint at it
  • Colour: well, it’s varying shades of brown?
  • It’s bigger than 5mm – it’s actually 12mm! Ahh!
  • If I stare at it, it changes shape

See? Arm cancers!!

I know this is probably just more of my melodramatic hypochondria, but I’d rather get it checked out than have my arm fall off because I ignored the symptoms. I like my left arm. It has many tattoos on it, and it holds my watch.

Is it 5 yet? I may not be looking forward to going to Victoria, but I’d rather do that than sit at my desk.

 

 

i have a restraining order against myself

Posted in medical anomaly by

This is rapidly losing the hilarity factor.

I am hurt. How? I don’t know. What did I do? Nothing. However, I have an unbelievable sharp pain in my left side, right under my ample bosom. It hurts when I breathe; it hurts when I don’t breathe, and moving? Yeah, that makes me swear a lot and wince and cry out and generally move around much like I figure an old person does when all their bones and organs start failing.

Since I am excellent at self-diagnosis, it’s been narrowed down to two things: a broken rib, or spontaneous pneumothorax. Naturally, I am hoping for the latter because it sounds totally wikked.

Even though I spent most of the month of April lying on the ground after falling down, I don’t think I did anything that would break a rib – and certainly not anything that would cause a delayed reaction rib breaking. It frankly feels like someone is stabbing me with a large dirty knife and twisting it around to see what would happen and I do not like it one bit.

So, back to the spontaneous pneumothorax. The internet tells me I likely have a wikked case of pleurisy, which to my surprise is not a pokeman. Pleurisy can be caused by a number of things, each more excellent than the last:

  • a viral infection
  • pneumonia
  • air leaking into my pleural hole
  • broken ribs
  • tuberculosis aka teh consumption
  • arthritis
  • lupus
  • sickle cell crisis: the latest offering from Tom Clancy
  • pulmonary embolism
  • pancreatitis (most commonly caused by excessive use of alcohol – I DID have a quarter bottle of raspberry cider last night)

Every single one of these says in large letters GET THEE UNTO THE HOSPITAL. So, that’s what I’m doing. I was unbelievably sheepish when I called my coworker – the poor girl, I’ve left her to fend for herself so many times because of my utterly fantastic injuries that I’m sure she hates me – and now I’m going to pile myself onto Sally and scoot to the doctor’s office where I will get to wait for a very long time before they tell me I have seven tumors and three pulmonary embolisms, which apparently can cause death. If I don’t check in later today, I’m dead from my mystery rib pain. Lisa can have all my smut, and Shan gets all my Converse.

Fucking ow :( :( :( :( :(

helter shelter

Posted in everyday kimli, medical anomaly, nerd by

I have sympathetic nipples.

I don’t claim to be even remotely close to understanding what Ali is going through as a new mother, but for the last week or so my nipples have been incredibly, annoyingly sore. They’re so tender my bra hurts, and even my normally inoffensive blanket can irritate my nipples into grumpiness for hours as I toss and turn instead of falling asleep. I have sore nipples! Send in the reinforcements before my unruly vagina hears of trouble in the north and starts planning for war!

NOTE: The preceding paragraph contained Too Much Information – if you are offended by frank talk of primary and secondary sexual characteristics, please do not read the previous portion of this entry.

I am debating sending Ed a series of alarming text messages along the lines of “job finished – did you want me to dispose of her head or keep it for operation: human soup?” or maybe “I can cut you a deal on orders of 5 kilos or more, but anything less you pay street price” or OOH maybe “the girls are here, did you want the blonde or the asian? Only one will do anal – guess which one!”.

I broke Ed’s cell phone earlier this week in a fit of rage – he hit a bump in the road, and the open cup of water I had been drinking sloshed all over the place and soaked his phone. For some reason, it no longer works. He took it to the store and shipped it off to Repair Land, and got a loaner phone to use in the meantime. We had some fun going through the text messages received by the previous phone users – someone got dumped, someone was invited to a party, someone tried to buy weed, and our personal favourite, someone couldn’t do anything because they were too high as they had been doing coke since 11pm last night. I almost feel as if it is our duty to fill the phone with exciting content for the next loanee – after all, what fun is voyeurism if there’s no scandal?

Every once in a while I am reminded just how sheltered I really am. I’m amused and partially scandalized that someone I don’t know does cocaine, even though it’s probably far more common than I could know. The strongest drug in my world is Tylenol 3, and I don’t know anyone who does anything more than the occasional pot – it’s just not an issue around here. I’ve been mildly curious about other drugs, but I’d never actually do any of them because a) that would be stupid, b) I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea where I’d get any, and c) laziest girl ever. I’m content with my other addictions – video games, diet coke, hurting myself in stupid ways. Besides, I’m a winner and, as I’ve heard, winners don’t do drugs.

I just sent Ed a text message: Mike, you SWORE I’d never catch you in bed with my brother again – we’re through, you sick bastard.

Small amusements, people.

Durrrr…

Posted in angst, fuuuuuuuu, medical anomaly by

Kim relocated? Redislocated? her shoulder being the superstar that she is. She thinks she popped it back in, but can’t be sure. She didn’t want to go to the hospital only to wait for another 4 hours to see the x-ray idiots, so she’s whimpering and gasping every time she moves. Here’s hoping she has the sense to see a doctor tomorrow :(

tuesday’s child, not so much grace

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Getting dressed is too damn difficult – now, more than ever, I want to stay naked all the time. I can’t wait for the day I can do my own bra up again – I have to get Ed to be my boob wrangler and general dresser because my right arm don’t bend so good no more. I’m also so over the novelty of wearing a sling; it’s hot and itchy and ugly. It’s amazing how much you take for granted having two working arms until one decides to go on strike – everything is hard. Putting on a coat? Ow. Getting comfortable in bed? Not going to happen. Using a can opener? Oh, lols. Wiping my butt? Well, let’s just say it’s a darned good thing that I do not poop because dang that would be extra difficult. I am done being dislocated, okay? Time for healing.

Of course, I’m sure the healing would go much faster if I didn’t keep doing dumb things like forgetting I’m injured and conducting an orchestra, or frantically hailing a cab in downtown New York. I just like being mobile, is all. I also like not being referred to as “T-Rex Arms” by those near and dear to me. I can’t wait until THEY do something stupid; I’ll totally be all up in their bidness with offers of training wheels and knee pads and morphine drips.

My giant leg bruise is all dark purple and yellow and itchy. It’s gross! Knee herpes are disgusting.

So far at the space station no one has noticed my additional face hole. This is good.

I have nothing else of import to say!

she lives!

Posted in medical anomaly, vroom vroom by

It’s the strangest thing – I hurt all over! It totally feels like I took a massive header on my scooter and dislocated my shoulder! So wacky.

I managed to survive the latest incident in the excellent life of Kimli, no thanks in part to the awesome man who stopped to make sure I wasn’t dead. It must have been a great site; I was lying on the ground tangled up in Sally and trying desperately to get up except I couldn’t. My disease ridden Spidey-sense kicked in again; when he asked if I was okay I squeaked out “I think I dislocated my shoulder ..” and sure enough, that’s what I did. It hurt. A lot. Andrew (my guardian cabinetry maker) called 911 (the first time 911 has been called because of me, not by me), then called Ed (trying to remember his work number when I was tasting concrete [the asphalt, not the guy] was not at all challenging) to age him prematurely by telling him his wife had been in an accident. Andrew made me a pillow, then stayed put until the three (!) cars of paramedics arrived – a cop car, a fire truck and an ambulance.

The paramedics asked me a bunch of questions, then got Sally off me (I was still tangled in her). They rolled me over and loaded me onto a stretcher – my first time on one! Whee! Then they took me into the ambulance, where they poked at me to determine I wasn’t going to die then and there before we took off for the hospital.

A word to the wise – if anyone is planning on doing anything that requires a trip to the hospital, it would be a good idea to NOT wear any of your favourite clothing. Throughout this entire ordeal, I am totally pissed that they had to cut off my favourite hoodie – irreplaceable, since the store is sold out – and cut up my favourite shirt so they could get to my shoulder. They managed to save my jacket, but STILL. SO ANNOYED. Today I am going out to look for a new hoodie. Yes, my priorities are totally in place.

My injuries were not life-threatening enough to warrant the siren, but they took me to the hospital (handily located just up the road) and loaded me into the emergency room where I began the waiting game. Ed had arrived back home by breaking several laws of both speed and physics just after the ambulance took off, but Andrew the Awesome had waited at our place for Ed to arrive so he could tell him which hospital I was taken to. Andrew is the best. He restored my faith in humanity.

The hospital experience really sucked ass. I had to wait for 4 hours before I could get in to be X-rayed, and they wouldn’t give me any kind of painkiller until about hour 3. I went through several panic attacks because I couldn’t move or sit up, and managed to wiggle myself down my bed so I was hanging off the edge by about 18 inches, losing my shoes and socks in the process. Ed made it to the hospital shortly after I arrived, and he soothed me and rebuffed my many attempts to just get up and go home already because lying there in severe pain was not as much fun as I had anticipated.

I did finally get in to be x-rayed. Unfortunately, it was Bring a Complete Newb to Work Day, and the X-Rayettes had to take SEVEN shots before they were able to confirm the diagnosis I had made hours earlier – yep, dislocated shoulder. The x-ray process was horrible, because every time the X-Rayettes discovered their latest attempt at interior photography was of my foot or the floor, they made me roll over onto my good side so they could shove the board thing under me and prop me up with foam Lego. What seemed like a million years later, they said “like, okay! We totally got a good shot! Tee hee!” and I was wheeled back to my spot in the First Aid area of the emergency room.

After my Adventures in Radiology, the rest went by fairly quickly. They gave me this cool tube that contained not the internet but laughing gas, and when I was sufficiently high as a kite, they wrassled my arm back into its socket. It hurt like a goddamn bastard, but apparently was cool to watch and I squeaked a lot (but didn’t scream because I am totally a ninja). They gave me a sling, a few T3s, and shooed us out of the hospital. Ed fed me and took me home, and I used my good hand to text message a bunch of people my whereabouts – just a normal Thursday in the life of Kimli.

So, here we are. It’s a long weekend because we Canadians are surprisingly religious, so I’m sitting at my desk wrapped in my sling and wondering how the hell I’m going to shower, since it hurts my everything to move. I’m stuck in the sling for at least a week, meaning I can’t drive (Ed has volunteered to be my chauffer) or scoot or play any Wii games. Boo! I know I’m lucky that the accident wasn’t a lot worse, and in the end everything is good. Sally is totally fine; she’s in better shape than I am – and all my friends are having an excellent time making fun of me and threatening to put training wheels on my scooter. All in all, it was an adventure – one I’m not looking to repeat any time soon, but thanks to the awesome people looking out for me and the get well wishes (and the yummy gourmet cookies the space station sent over), I shall soon be on the mend and totally ready to hurt myself in other spectacular ways.

I totally found down, though.

This is not the Kim you are looking for…

Posted in medical anomaly, vroom vroom by

THE INTERNET IS MINE!!!@#QWERTY

Guest poster Ed here, commissioned to impart to all y’all the greatness that is my wife. Early this morning on her way to work, she decided that she should wipe the fuck out.. completely unaided by man or beast. Thankfully, she managed to not get more than a few feet down the road. A very kind and gentle stranger helped her out by calling an ambulance, notifying me at work, and staying at the scene to give me an update on her condition and location.
The end result of Kim’s decision to find Down is a painfully dislocated shoulder (which I got to watch the docs pop back in… awesome!?), a scraped and bruised leg, and clothes that had to be cut off of her by the paramedic. My wife has been ravaged :(.

She’s ok and currently in bed with some cats and a really cool sling that she has to wear for a week or so. I’m sure she’ll update soon because she’s a huge nerd and is going through ‘net withdrawal. Now if her readers can help me explain to her why hurting herself and scaring her husband half to death is terribly wrong, that would be grrreeeat.

eeeek

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Oh hell I have COOTIES!

There are five huge mysterious bites on my right leg that were not there this morning – this is so totally what I need; to be ravaged by insects on top of everything else.

AHH!