What happened to me? The Agony of my Recovery

If you remember from my testimony, I told you that I am living with a very finnicky brother who doesn’t like certain people if they give off negative vibes, doesn’t like using public bathrooms, and hates boarding other people’s cars. I’d like to talk a little bit about how one of his best, and probably only positive experience my brother had in school.
If I upload the court case audio recordings, all the parties identities will be posted for everyone to see. This wonderful man was a teacher of the visually impaired for my brother and me. He was the one who had sued the North-West Regional Education Service District in July 2012. While litigation originally commenced in 2011, the actual trial was held a year later. I purchased the court records from the courthouse on Monday, 5 March 2018. He previously lost his vision for about two years, but a cornea transplant had restored his sight. Then he met somebody else who was blind, and it interested him. He took up music, journalism, and something else I can’t remember while he was in school. When he went to study at Community College, he helped a student who was blind get through chemistry, because the professors were claiming that a blind person wouldn’t be able to take that class. After that, he moved out of state where he married and adopted three kids. He and his wife applied to become foster parents, and over the next five years, they adopted fifteen foster kids, mostly kids with developmental disabilities caused by drug use during pregnancy, and others due to brain trauma. They kept the last child because they had reactive attachment disorder, and they wanted to give that child a good home so they wouldn’t feel so abandoned. Losing his job with the regional education service district really put a toll on his family, especially this child.
Anyhow, he had an opportunity to come back to Oregon to work at the Oregon School for the Blind in 2008, and he learned that the legislature was planning to shut the school down because they were claiming that there were only twenty or thirty students going at a time. He and the rest of the OSB staff testified at a few hearings, trying to convince the legislature not to shut the school down unless they had a plan on how to transition these kids, and help the rest of the students, even if they never attended the school in the first place. All the things they had told the legislative members fell on deaf ears, and the staff eventually looked for employment elsewhere. To try and make the long story short, this teacher was asked by the vision service coordinator to work at the ESD in fall of 2009. When he arrived, he was given a caseload containing eight or fifteen students, I can’t remember how many. He asked which city or county he was to be working, but all his supervisor said was that he was to be working around 185th. That didn’t make any sense, so he asked specifically where he was to be working. They finally explained it to him, and he started working accordingly. That is when I happened to find out that I was on his caseload, and that is how we ended up striking up quite an acquaintance.
When our teacher was hired, he thought he was hired to help the ESD spend the $2.985 million that the legislature had set aside. Instead, he was told by vision service coordinator’s supervisor that someone else was already in charge of that. Well, over the course of that year, he noticed that the ESD wasn’t doing anything more to enhance the level of service that these students were entitled to according to the new law. He went to numerous staff meetings, and talked with parents and teachers, and wrote up several letters to his superiors. Instead, he was written up multiple times, complaining that he was edging over the boundary lines from service to one of advocacy. They had also said that the ESD was not there to serve students. They were there to serve the districts.
‘In a meeting with [the vision services supervisor,] I was told that “We are an education service district. That means we serve districts.” I objected to this and told her that I do not serve districts. I serve students. By doing my best to serve students I fulfill my role as an ESD employee, and the districts are served as well. I won’t change. This is what you got when you hired me.’ He wrote these daring words as part of a four-page rebuttal letter, which he handed over to the HR department, in response to a letter written to him by his superiors if he continued to do what he was doing, he would be terminated. Everybody knew that making statements like this were guaranteed to be protected by the first amendment, and they knew they couldn’t fire him on these grounds. Once they found their first opportunity when the TVI had let his teaching license lapse for a month, they did.
While all of this was going on, he had an opportunity to meet my older brother. He and I were in twelfth and tenth grade, respectively, and he and I were in the same school. On the first day, he saw that my brother was raging and angry because he needed something, and in this case, he just wanted to go to the bathroom. So the teacher tried to find out if my brother knew how to say that he needed to go to the bathroom, and within a few days of coming in each morning, and signing to him that this was the bathroom, it became very clear to him that My brother could communicate what he needed. Before that, the teachers were making him wait until they said it was okay for him to use the bathroom. Nuh-uh! When nature calls, you’ve got to answer it, otherwise you’re going to end up with a very nasty message. He simply told the teachers that if my brother wanted to use the toilet, nobody should stop him. Just make him say where he was going. Over the course of the next five months, The TVI worked with my brother extensively, teaching him about thirty signs, and utilising a calendar system to help him develop a concept of time, choice, and sequence. Once My brother’s days became predictable for him, his acting-out behaviours were dramatically abated. The TVI was also directed by a deaf and hard-of-hearing consultant as to which signs were appropriate to teach somebody who was both deaf and blind. Because casting someone with multiple disabilities aside in the bureaucratic world is unfortunately not too uncommon, my brother never had a specialist who knew how to work with prelingually deaf-blind people.
The TVI once recalled a time when My brother was told that he should finish the task first before he could play with the cassette player and put it directly over his ear. I don’t know if he could hear a little bit, or if he liked the vibration, but My brother signed ‘no’, and moved the tape player to the ‘now’ position in the calendar tray. Rather than forcing My brother to finish the task, The TVI congratulated him, and told him ‘Good job!’ My brother told him so clearly that he didn’t want to wait, he wanted to do it now.
In mid to late January of 2010, his supervisor came to do a surprise evaluation on The TVI’s teaching skills, and when she saw him communicating with My brother using sign language, she waited until that was over before asking him why, if he was a teacher of the visually-impaired, he was teaching somebody sign language. He wasn’t a teacher of the deaf, and it was only the teacher of the deaf’s responsibility to work with that student. The TVI said, ‘Well, I’m not an English teacher, but I communicate with my students in English. I know German, and if My student could only speak German, I would talk to him in German. Why need I be a teacher of the deaf to communicate with a deaf person using signs?’ In other words, he was objecting and saying that anybody who happened to know another language besides English should be entitled to use that language to communicate effectively with that student. I had always thought that when employers hired you, they want you to have great skills. I wonder what would’ve happened if The TVI had said in his resume that he was proficient in American Sign Language. Well, I can understand to an extent why they had a problem with this. They didn’t want someone who wasn’t certified to teach my brother flawed sign language.
In March of 2018, I spoke with the supervisor’s successor, who held the same attitude that his predecessor had held, mainly that a licensed teacher should be the one to communicate with a deaf or deaf-blind person. He also told me that I should look at his former IEP to find out if they had specifically indicated why My brother was not eligible to receive services for the deaf and blind. It was likely that he was declared incompetent, and unwilling to learn, and they didn’t want to spend a lot of time working with him. Instead, he was transitioned to a three-year day programme at a place called ARC. It stood for Association for Retarded Citizens. Nobody taught him sign language while he was there. They just had him work on basic occupational skills during that time.
When My brother started getting used to not going to school every day from 2013, he started getting things his own way. He went about the house totally naked, and he refused to put on certain clothes, and more recently, any pair of shoes. He was able to wear some clothes when we went out, but now, he only wants to be naked as a way of saying, ‘if I don’t put on clothes, I won’t be able to go out. If I can’t go out, I won’t have to worry about where the bathroom is or deal with things that do not make sense to me.’ In mid to late August of 2016, we discovered that My brother would not let himself be coaxed to get inside my aunt’s friend’s van. Our minivan’s steering column had malfunctioned, and we needed to get home. My brother whined and squirmed, trying to get away. He flat-out refused to get in. So, my mother was obliged to leave him and take me home, then go back to walk My brother home in the heat.
So, on March 9th, 2017, the van broke down a second time in front of the store, and since My brother had demonstrated that he didn’t want to get inside another person’s car, he was obliged to walk home in the rain. Since my mother was now deprived of any means to get more food, that left me having to do everything I could to survive. As I had already deposited three hundred dollars into the secured credit card, I had no other funds available, so I had to overdraw my bank account to get more food from nearby fast-food joints. My card arrived a week later, one day after my birthday, and I was able to cover the overdraft. I was able to get some food for the remainder of March, and I thought things would get better come April. I was using Lift, as in the Uber and Lift app.
For whatever reason, probably due to a technical error at the bank, I paid off my credit card when, I had no funds available to pay it off, so I ended overdrawing my bank account to over three hundred dollars. I knew I couldn’t pay it back until May, so I began looking at other funding sources. I finally managed to get approved for a second credit line at PayPal for $500, and I used it to cover the overdraft. Combined with the secured credit card and the credit line, I was in $800 in debt.
I knew that summer and the hot weather was fast-approaching, so I had to think about what I could do to reduce my anxiety and stay cool. I was able to get a prescription for Clonazepam, which was also not covered by Care Oregon. I started taking 0.25 MG once or twice a day, and at first, I didn’t find it helpful, but the more I used it, the more relaxed I felt. On the first warm day of the year, which was my teammate’s funeral, Wednesday, 3 May 2017, we reached the eighties. I took 0.75 MG throughout the entire day, and as I was riding home from bowling, I felt extremely sleepy, and I was able to get through the next day without problems. My doctor also prescribed an antidepressant called Sertraline, a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor. It wasn’t meant to be used to treat anxiety, but they also wanted me to not get addicted to the benzodiazepine, so I began taking that regularly.
I was paying approximately five hundred dollars to both of my credit accounts, and since I wanted to boost my credit scores as much as possible, I continued to make payments every time I charged my card. I was caught up in a cycle of paying my debts and then immediately creating new debts. It wasn’t easy, and I realised that I would have a much better chance to get out of debt when I got my deposit back in March of 2018.
In November of last year, I went to the bank to increase my credit limit, but because I was using a secured credit card, I had to deposit another $100 to increase it to $400. Combined with my PayPal credit line, I then owed $900. Since PayPal did not report anything to the credit bureaus, I only paid my secured credit card in full each month, while I only paid part of the debt to PayPal each month.
I was desperate to get food during the time that the van broke down that I reached to as many agencies as I could, and I eventually made a connection with the Helen Keller National Centre. The representative from the Seattle regional office came out to our house and heard testimony from my mother, My brother’s case manager, The TVI, and me. The representative and I worked throughout that summer and fall of last year and part of this year to see how we could get funding to bring two staff members from New York, of different genders, to work with my brother and train the new staff member and my mother on how to communicate effectively with him. In February of this year, I made a connection with the executive director of Oral Hull Foundation for the Blind. That is where I did my sky-dive four years ago. The TVI donated $120,000 to them as part of his settlement. This person was a past district governor of the Lions Club, and they agreed to help us raise the funds to start work on saving my brother’s life. Click here to donate. They were also very incensed by the attitude the ESD had held towards people like my brother. They told me that the ESD didn’t want to admit that they had failed duly in their duty, and that’s why the new vision service coordinator told me what I told you. It is quite embarrassing when a large entity, corporation, or bureaucracy loses to one individual in a civil case as this. Still, I can sort of understand to an extent why they strongly objected to this.
Well, since I couldn’t go back to school for several reasons, I decided to try my hardest to get the services my brother is entitled to, since our mother doesn’t seem to be well-informed about the resources that are available to her. She, speaking only Spanish, and having attended but five years of school so she could work in the farm, was never prepared other than what God had given to her. The problem is that she and I have different viewpoints about how my brother’s needs are to be met, and we can never come to an agreement. My mother thinks my brother’s needs are fine just the way they are, whereas I think she’s sheltering him too much, and not disciplining him enough, and that she’s spoiling him. She argued by saying that I am wanting attention and food, and that My brother is stubborn, and not willing to accept anybody else other than his mother. True, everybody needs attention, and everybody needs food. I like different foods that my mother and My brother usually eat. So, I often must show my mother how to prepare things for my liking. It is also true that when a sick or disabled family member gets all the attention, their siblings would feel left out and might feel as though they were less than what they really were.
At the suggestion of the HKNC representative, I went to seek mental health therapy at a nearby location, and it is through they that I came up with a plan. My therapist had asked me what part of my experience that happened to me in Arizona did I take with me that I had turned it into something much bigger than it actually was, and something that was least likely to occur, and let it control my quality of life. I don’t have a clear answer to this question, but I do know that this is just one of many negative things that have happened to me in the past, and I guess, as sort of a self-defence mechanism, I avoided similar situations so I wouldn’t have to deal with another experience. And yet, I should learn to prepare for something like that in case it does happen so that I have a plan to make sure someone will be there when I need them. I told my therapist that I was afraid of losing my balance from the constant rocking sensation, or that I would be trapped in a hot and stuffy place, with no way to cool down, or that I would faint, and nobody would help me. I was also afraid that there wouldn’t be enough food. I also related to my therapist about how, when I came back, I’ve had frequent flashbacks and nightmares of either biting my brother back whenever he bit me severely, or how I called 911 every time I felt dizzy and had an out-of-body experience, sleep paralysis, or astral projection. I’d feel as though I were struggling to pick up my iPhone so I could hold down the home button and tell Siri to call emergency services. In my dream, I was a frequent 911 caller, and the dispatcher had assigned me an account number so that I wouldn’t have to tell them what I was dealing with every time I called. Usually, the dispatcher would tell me to try to stay calm, and if I were feeling dizzy, that I should try and get water until they could come to rehydrate me. These dreams stopped sometime in late March, and I haven’t had any since then, except for maybe one or two ambulance rides that occurred once or twice in 2018.
So, here’s what I think. Our brains hasn’t gotten used to the changes in our culture. Our brains perceived something as a threat, so we get physical symptoms that alerts us of danger, and we are prepared to run or fight. The older we get, the more sensitive we become of our environment. Think of the heat in Arizona as a threat. My brain was like a watch person. It kept making sure I was staying alive all the time. When we take anti-anxiety pills or anti-depressant pills, we’re telling the brain to stop keeping watch temporarily and pretend there’s no danger. Make sure that neurochemicals like serotonin stay in the brain longer, or create more serotonin to stabilise your mood.
Some people may say that a simple heat exhaustion is not itself traumatic. But I disagree. Anything that can cause you to change your entire brain chemistry is considered trauma.
I did some Google searches and found that I’m not the only one who has agoraphobia and panic disorder, and who has had a past history of heat exhaustion and heat stroke. I’m sure there are others like myself who are wondering the same thing.
Well, once I was through working out the negative experiences I had in 2016, my therapist and I talked about how all of my plans have been put on hold because of the massive amount of time I had to put in recovering from that ordeal. As of this year, things are slowly getting better–slowly but surely. I feel now that the best times for me to travel is early in the morning and late at night during the summer. Otherwise I feel fine travelling during the late fall to early spring. It’s been a while since I started dealing with these life-altering symptoms, and I want to resume a normal life, free of ringing in my ears, dizziness, and imbalance.
Now that it is 2019, I helped my mother get the things needed to have a central air conditioner added to our furnace last year from Four Seasons Heating and Air Conditioning, and it has worked wonders ! I decided to work on how I could cool the rest of the house down. I was confined to my bedroom in all of Summer 2017 because I was using a window air conditioner.
I had said before that I wouldn’t be able to get out of credit card debt until March of 2018, and that was true. However, due to some not so favourable changes in my income, I had to enroll in a debt management plan that was licenced by the National Foundation for Credit Counselling. That’s why I’m doing everything I can in my arsenal to fight back by publishing my manuscripts, creating and monetising podcasts and other things. In addition, I sold some stuff on eBay and a local pawn shop, as well. I had literally lost enjoyment of life because of what I went through, and I made some enquiries as to whether I would have a reasonable cause of action for personal injury because of all that I went through, but my lawyer told me that there were no reliable witnesses, and it’s possible that I might’ve signed a waiver, which I don’t remember doing.
Well, I think this has been a rather long enough post. I hope that you have found everything to be informative. So, my current goals are to start venturing out again in small steps. I already began this by attending a retreat at a political advocacy programme called Catalyst, and start learning how to make pottery on the wheel. In addition, I’d also love to learn how to build a brick-and-mortar ham shack or studio. But, these things cost money, which is why I’m going through all this trouble to get the life I need and want. So, I began looking at investment opportunities, and I learned about Edward Jones. It is through them that I now have a mutual funds account.
In the next post, I will be talking about what you can do if you want to build your credit history for the first time, and what you should look out for, so that you don’t end up making the same mistake I made.

What happened to me? The beginning of a never-ending nightmare

Hi, my fellow humans
This is going to be another long post again, and the way the introduction starts suggests that I haven’t posted here in a long time. That’s partially true, but here’s what happened.
After realizing that I wanted to be an independent WordPress owner, I got help from someone who knows how to use Linux boxes. Together, we rebuilt my blog and attached my basic HTML web site I started working in my last two years of Hi School. As luck would not have it, though, I lost all my posts because I didn’t check to make sure the SQL files were generated properly. I tried importing the XML file I got from my old wordpress.com account, but it evidently didn’t get saved. Fortunately for me, however, I kept an archive in text form of all the posts I had ever written, and I spent time going through it and reposting them, sometimes splitting them up into two or more parts. So, this is where I am now.
I know it has been quite a long time since I last posted, and I thought I’d inform you of what I’ve been doing for the last three and a half years. This is going to turn out to be I am extremely afraid of fainting, for I have never fainted before, so I didn’t know what sensations I would expect to feel, or if anyone would notice. long, so I would suggest that you find some time to sit down so you can spend about half an hour to forty-five minutes reading and re-reading through this article.
I never thought I could suffer a nervous breakdown until I actually experienced one. I mean, I’ve had bouts of panic attacks and astral projection from sleep paralysis, and I’ve survived three blood donations and two wisdom teeth surgeries under nitrous oxide, and although the side effects were tolerable, nothing prepared me for what happened to me a few months later.
I was getting ready to race with my dragon boating team in Tempe, Arizona from September 30th to October 2nd of 2016. I kept attending all eight mandatory practices before the race. Had I I kept attending all eight mandatory practices before the race. Had I known the severe hardships I would endure; I would have backed out as soon as I could. As it was, I suffered a great deal, and it took me nearly two years to recover from the aftermath.
When I arrived in Tempe on Friday, 30 September, I was doing just fine, even in the great heat. So, it was quite a surprise when, on Saturday, I started exhibiting symptoms of heat exhaustion, starvation, dehydration, hyperventilation, or panic attack, that lasted for several hours, even though I was in a shaded tent, and it was around ninety degrees Fahrenheit. Although I kept drinking plenty of water and Gatorade, I wasn’t provided with enough food, and our team was only supplied with a light continental breakfast. I first felt slightly lightheaded when I was accompanying my team down to the lake, though it could have been my imagination. After about twenty minutes of being seated in the tent, I started noticing that my mind was racing, and I was starting to breathe more rapidly. I began having problems with my thoughts. I was thinking about one thing over another until I realised that I was thinking of every possible scenario of why I would not be able to survive in the extreme heat. Then I started to feel like I was in a fog. My brain felt very hazy, and I had the strongest urge to pass out, but I fought it off by constantly being in motion. Then, since I was afraid of fainting from experience, I did everything I could to keep myself awake. I am extremely afraid of fainting, for I have never fainted before, so I didn’t know what sensations I would expect to feel, or if anyone would notice.
Eventually, I started feeling my fingertips and toes tingle if I didn’t move, though it went away when I did. I alerted one of my teammates, who had also felt this way when I was in Portland last month, and she told me to keep drinking more, as if I weren’t already. She alerted the coach, and she told me to stay in the tent, even though I asked to go back to the hotel, and she also told me to drink more Gatorade without offering me any food. I was excused from racing after that. I tried to solicit other means of help to get relief, but no one came to my aid. My Android phone, which I was using at the time, failed me greatly, and I was not able to call emergency services.
All those events took place from nine thirty in the morning until around fourteen hundred. I kept going to the bathroom every fifteen minutes because I kept drinking so many big bottles of Gatorade and smaller bottles of water.
When I went back to the hotel, I was feeling somewhat better, so I went to sleep, and I woke up when it was time for my team to go to dinner. I had trouble walking because I was still dealing from the effects just hours before, but I managed to keep drinking, and I ate a big meal, which kept me going through the night and into the morning. I even saved some leftovers so I could refrigerate it. I don’t know if Room Service could have given me relief at the time.
Come Sunday, I was worried about whether I would be able to race, and what I would do if I couldn’t. Again, we were supplied with a light breakfast, but I vowed to find more food at the venue. The temperature was climbing slowly, and I prayed that it would rain, and incidentally, it did, about half an hour later. I was relieved to receive a good shower outdoors, but soon, the water got too cold, and I was obliged to retreat to the tent. I heard one of the team members say that there was a peculiar odour about the place, and when I sniffed, I detected a sweet, pungent aroma that I associated with electricity, although it was more like the smell of static electricity mixed with gunpowder. I later learned that this was ozone, which is a Greek derivative, as I later learned about in a text adventure game called Curses. When I learned that we might have a thunderstorm, I felt as though the blood were draining from my face, but fortunately, I remained standing. Later, when I got on my computer, I made a joke about the rainstorm on Facebook, saying that I got an answer to my prayers from the heavens, and that I was saved. That downpour drenched us all, and our wet clothing offered us means of cooling afterword. I was able to partake of the last two races, and then we packed up to go back to the hotel. Some members were leaving on Sunday, while others, including myself, went home the following day. Just as we were getting ready to leave, though, I heard a loud retching, coughing, and wheezing sound. I went over to investigate, and I witnessed one of our teammates throwing up, possibly due to a concussion. I learned the next day that this teammate had been falling down all weekend, and they were being made to paddle despite these mishaps. Since nobody made plans for going to dinner on Sunday night, I didn’t know what else to do. I wasn’t sure if I could use room service, and therefore, I was extremely hungry. I managed to save a piece of chicken meat, and I ate it cold. I ate an apple, and some beef Jerky. I waited, but my appetite wasn’t yet satisfied, but then I remembered saving the leftovers from the day before, so I ate it cold, since there was no microwave available. My hunger was satisfied after that, and I went to bed. If I had access to UberEats or DoorDash, I would’ve felt fine afterword.
On Monday, I awoke to take a nice, warm shower, which went without a flaw. I decided to see about how to get breakfast. I went into this warm and stuffy cafeteria, but that nearly proved disastrous, for no sooner had I gone inside, and while I was sitting at one of the tables, I started to feel my chair tilt and sway, and I felt waves of hot flashes rolling down my body. I knew I was going to faint again, so I fought it off by shuffling my legs around. I also made the mistake of drinking apple juice, which has sorbitol. And, when you’re already dehydrated, it makes it much worse, because it will cause you to have diarrhoea made by pulling water out of your system. So, I went back to my room and I had my meal delivered there. I noticed that I was having trouble walking again, and I heard a low humming sound in my right ear, around 225 Hz, the same sound you hear if you’ve ever had a tympanogram. I lied down to get some rest, but after a few minutes I had to go to the bathroom again, and I noticed that every time I released stool, it caused me to feel a stinging sensation. I drank tap water, which tasted salty, every time I went to the bathroom to replace what I lost. I called the airline the day before to see about changing it to an earlier day, but it was more expensive to carry this out, so I requested a wheelchair so I wouldn’t have to walk far.
I waited until it was around ten thirty, then I did my best to walk outside. I was feeling so dizzy I could barely stand up, but I managed to lug my suitcase to the couches, where I stopped to rest. I talked with the teammate who alerted the coach on Saturday, and who accompanied the invalid to the hospital on Sunday. She tied my shoelaces, for they were not well-knotted. It would be the last time I ever interacted with her, for on April 26th, 2017, four days before her birthday, she died in her sleep. She would have been seventy in four more days of her death. Anyhow, I went outside to wait for our cab, and I leaned heavily against the wall for support. When it came, I was relieved to sit down again. I sat in the middle seat in the back. When we got to the airport, I tried to accompany everyone to the check-in line, but it became evident that my dizziness was getting the best of me, and I was forced to find a bench until they could get me a wheelchair. I’m glad I had requested this in advance. I walked through security check and sat back down on the chair. I went to the bathroom, and the coach’s spouse got me some more Gatorade and a banana for me to snack on. With all these things, I was able to avoid hunger for just a bit longer.
The flight was uneventful, although I noticed that my breathing tended to stop just as I was falling asleep, and I would wake up immediately. This usually happened after an episode of near fainting. I previously started feeling such symptoms when I rode in a car, shortly after drinking coffee. I also over-donated blood back in June, though I had previously donated twice, and I had to deal with similar symptoms. I was hospitalised this last time, and I had to put up with some of the remaining aftershocks for several weeks. I drank coffee again in August of 2016, six months after I dealt with my last bout, and again, I experienced a panic attack when I was riding in the cab. This time, I remembered to eat a substantial meal, so I ordered some McDonalds food. I felt much better in about an hour.
Shortly after we landed, I was wheeled out to wait for my ride. Once I got home, I changed to some more comfortable clothes, and I slept for a while. My mother offered to buy me some comfort food, and I got up to eat it. On Tuesday, everything was about the same, but I wasn’t feeling any better. I ate as much as I could, and I had my mother deliver meals to my room. I started noticing for the first time that whenever I walked, I felt as though the floor were moving beneath my feet. If you’ve been on a boat in rough seas, or ever stood on a dock in a windy day, you’d know what I’m talking about. I felt the floor bob and sway, and it made it more difficult for me to walk about. I asked my mother to buy me some VitaLyte, or something similar. It is a rehydrating fluid containing glucose or dextrose, and electrolytes, which made it taste very sweet and salty at the same time. I downed one bottle, and then I drank some Gatorade as well. I continued doing this on Wednesday, and that is when I had my first real out of body experience, or astral projection. I remember thinking to myself in my dream that if I were to have a seizure, I wouldn’t be able to wake up. Then, I started to feel lightheaded, and I felt tingles come at me in big waves. Then I found myself floating in my bedroom, and I was drawn to my cordless telephone. I tried to reach for it so I could dial 911, but I was not successful. This was the first of several reoccurring nightmares that were to follow for the next five months.
On Thursday, I still wasn’t getting any better, so I told my mother everything. She offered to drive me to Urgent Care instead of the emergency room, and she did this because the ER would have been busier than if we went to Urgent Care. It would also mean that it would have been more expensive. We left at around nine in the morning and got there at nine fifteen. I checked in, and I was taken to an examining room. I told them what I’ve gone through, and they performed some tests, including an orthostatic blood pressure test, electrocardiogram, and a urine sample, followed by a blood draw. Ever since I’ve been seeing my naturopathic doctor over at the National University of Natural Medicine, I was really fascinated with the needles, syringes, catheters and IV lines, so I was really surprised when I was able to get my hands on a venipuncture kit from The Apprentice doctor back in early 2016 without a Drug Enforcement Administration Number. So, I finally got to feel some butterfly needles, some vials and ampules, and more.
Nearing the end of my visit, I was given diazepam, or valium, as is sometimes known. It was given to me in the form of a tablet containing 5 MG. After about twenty minutes, I started to feel more relaxed. The medical assistant arranged to have me taken to the emergency room if I wasn’t any better by the time I went to my doctor’s office on Friday.
Once I was through, I was taken back out, and my mother drove me to Jack in the Box so I could get something to eat. Then she bought me my first iPhone from Metro PCS so I could have something to play with. When we got home, I was feeling much better, and I spent some time setting up my iPhone. But we all know that some good things can’t always last forever, right?
On Friday, I woke up, and I was feeling pretty good. I got something to eat, and then I continued working on my iPhone. I also talked to a friend of mine, and I thought things were going quite smoothly. Well, when it came time for my mother and I to depart to Portland, I started feeling the old symptoms come back, including diarrhoea. I have a suspicion, but I don’t know if it would be warranted that if I consumed products from Pizza Hut, I’d get the runs every time. I thought I could get some rest on the way to the clinic, but alas, that didn’t work out in my favour. I guess the effects of the valium had worn off, for my anxiety was causing me to feel the same as I had felt on Monday. I could barely walk up to the desk, so I leaned heavily on my cane, which wasn’t designed for that purpose. Once it was my turn, I checked in as quickly as I could, and then I plopped down on the nearest chair. I waited for about five minutes, but I knew I couldn’t walk such a long distance. So, when my name was called, a wheelchair was brought up to me, and I was asked if I wanted some rescue remedy, which uses the placebo effect to make you believe that you were being given a dose to help you relieve your anxiety. I was taken upstairs, and I was administered the same tests I was given at Urgent Care. They also checked my skin elasticity to make sure I wasn’t extremely dehydrated. The doctor did not prescribe me valium, as I had asked, but instead, they prescribed me something called Propranolol Inderal, 60 MG 24-hour release capsule. I saw in later research that if you were to take this medicine shortly after experiencing trauma, your brain might respond to it differently. Unfortunately, this didn’t work.
At first, taking this beta blocker once a day had no major effects, although my blood pressure readings had gone down somewhat, and my heart and breathing rates were slightly lowered. After about a month of taking it, I started noticing some subtle changes, like being more sensitive to heat, though this could have been related to what happened to me. I went in for a blood draw, one day before Trump was elected president, and I nearly fainted from that in the car on the way home, since it was a fasting blood test. I sort of surprised the phlebotomist when I told her that she was using a winged infusion set because I felt the rubbing of the tube against my arm.
My mother told me that I started getting heavier, and she noticed my cheeks rounding up with adipose tissue. I also purchased some Lavela, which is a lavender-based essential oil enclosed in a soft gel. I requested to have a balance evaluation report, so I went ahead and did that with Pacific Ear Clinic.
By late November through early December, I had purchased some equipment to measure my vital signs, and a scale to see how much I weighed. In January, I also purchased a glucometer so I could see how my blood glucose was doing. By that time, I was into two months of taking my beta blocker, and I started noticing major changes in my appetite. I got hungry every four to five hours, instead of nine to ten hours like I normally would. This might have been a trick that caused my body to believe I was in a famine, which is why I probably gained so much weight afterword. By late November, I had received my physiotherapy and vestibular reports, which were sent to my ear, nose and throat specialist, who arranged to have me undergo an MRI in late December. I will post about my MRI experience later. I was also told that my potassium levels were quite low, so I ate bananas, and I also took potassium supplements.
In January, I had a feeling we were going to be snowbound, so I tried to get as much food as I could, via the Safeway Home Delivery programme. As it was, the snow came in earlier than I had anticipated, and Safeway was not able to deliver my order. My mother, not wanting to risk going out in the snow, was not able to provide me with much food, either. On top of what I’ve gone through, I was ready to give up. Then, the snow started melting, and Safeway was finally able to deliver my order. A few more days and I was out of the woods. I had started going to some physiotherapy exercises beginning in January, but because of the snow, it got delayed. I went for about five or six visits, but it wasn’t really helping me much. I got to ride the Alter G antigravity treadmill, though, and I experienced sensory fatigue when my legs were used to being nearly weightless for several minutes.
I had already suspected that the cause of my excess hunger and weight gain was due to my beta blocker, so I gradually began to lower my dosage without letting my doctor know, and, since I didn’t want to stop suddenly, I tapered off of it completely by the beginning of February.
In November of 2016 and in January of 2017, I received two intravenous treatments, one consisting of a push, and the other one containing a solution which dripped slowly over the period of two and a half hours. Both treatments were not covered by insurance, so I had to pay out of pocket for these treatments. I didn’t feel a whole lot better, but it was worth a try.
I had another blood draw on Wednesday, 23 February 2017, and they discovered that I might be dealing with fatty liver, and that I was possibly prediabetic. They also found that my cholesterol was quite high on the HDL, I think, and my blood sugar was at 109, even when I was fasting. I had also risen to 194 LB, and I wondered how I could gain forty pounds in just four months.
By the end of February, my former partner, who is still my friend, suggested that I try out DirecTV so I could try and learn more about humour and the latest social trends. So, to oblige them, I did. I had a lot of trouble with DirecTV at first, mostly having to do with technical issues in not being able to make the device talk. I soon got it resolved, and I was able to use it more independently.
Back in August of 2016, I was interested in the possibility of getting a secured credit card, so I applied for it, but I didn’t have enough funds to put in the minimum deposit of $300 to get $300 in credit. I waited until February of 2017 to try again. I was finally approved for the secured credit card, and the $300 was deducted from my account. Had I known that I was to be in dire peril, I would have waited until I was out of it before getting the card. As it was, I had to make many sacrifices to survive. It was all because of my two-year older brother that my mother, my brother, and I were all put in this predicament.