I crushed my ladybug

Thats what her nickname was. Ladybug. Our first night in Seattle, I ran and made a copy of the key to our home, and gave her a ladybug key. She loved that key. I crushed my ladybug. I drove her away. I didnt mean to. Im sick. But I didnt have the tools to control my cortisol-fuled temper. 

Ive been bawling nonstop for an hour. She wont pick up my phone. If she would, Id call her. If I wants afraid of making her mad, I would call her. BUt I am. I need her so bad. And shes gone. The one who stood by me when I was covered in urine and blood from brain surgery. Shes gone. Because the surgery didnt fix me, and because no one gave me tools to fight the mood swings. The most wonderful women in the world left me. 

She took half of me with her, all the good parts. 

Im left in pain, a pain so deep I will never escape. 

I dont deserve to. 

I deserve to die. 

And we have ice on the roads tomorrow. 

convenient, I think. 

One can hope to be sideswyped...

The Void and The Sun

"Moon of my Life."

Kahl Drogo

"My Sun and Stars."

―Daenerys Targaryen

What do you do when you sun, moon, and stars disappear from your sky? I am so sorry for not keeping this up. The last year has been very bad for Mr and Mrs Zebra. We have been waiting for my disability to come, and we got another denial letter, this time denial for an appeal. Mrs. Zebra had finally gotten into a therapist to cope with her anxiety, and as of Jan 1, had both health and mental health available. This is why we moved here: so we could both have the help we needed. But she couldn't hold on I guess. 

After planning Thanksgiving dinner with close friends, after holding me and telling me how much she loved me, after tell me I was "her big heater" and "I'll see you when you come home" after all of this, I found our home empty of the warmth and happiness that is my Mrs Zebra. Nothing but a note: "I am leaving you. I will not be back. I am safe." I have not heard from her since 9am on 11/27/13. She is avoiding everyone's calls and voicemails. I hope she really is safe. 

After speaking with our doctor, because we share one, all I could come up with was that she was more depressed than she let on. Maybe it is because she didn't want to bother me, or pull me down. I hope some day I will know. But when they changed her meds, she got so much worse. She must be in so much pain, because I know I am. I just want to hold her and stroke her hair and love on her. Her well being is all I care about. I only want to improve myself so I can be the pillar on which she can lean. I want to be her strength when she is weak. 

What do you do when your sun, moon, and stairs are suddenly gone from your life? The gaping maw of a black hole left when best part of you is ripped away with no explanation, no advance warning, and no immediate recourse? Without my love, my darling, I am a shell of a man, condemned to wander the endless void, looking for my lost soul mate. I know people say that you must be your own person, and I think maybe she lost herself in me, but I lost myself in her, weaving myself in her magical fibers, bathing in the wonderment that was her mind and body. When we touch, when I hear her smooth, silky voice, my world is complete. I can die happy each and every time she whispers in my ear "I love you. I will never leave you." She told me over and over I would never come home to this. But I am, and I am left to hope that she will contact me and someday, we can work this out. 

Almost 10 years of being with the most wonderful person I have ever known. She wasn't perfect, but I had learned and was learning to accept her for what she was, and in that she was perfect. -IS- perfect. The maw is so deep, it so fracturing my crushed soul, it feel as if she is lost for good. But if there is to be any repair of the bridge that connected our two hearts, she cannot come home to a broken man: the broken man who didn't realize he had become dependant on her to prop my illness up. No, not again. I am going to a therapist on Monday. I know he cant give me the answers I need. Only she can. But maybe he can help me find the man she married again, and present that to her again some day. Maybe she will get over her pain and anxiety, or learn how to communicate her feelings to those who want her to be happy. All I know for sure is I love her deeply, deeper than the deepest oceans, and I will not give up on us. I will give her the time she needs, and pray to whatever is out there to tell her I love her and miss her. 

What I know is that my sun, moon, and stars are gone. And the void is here. Deeper and darker than ever before. I want to tell her so bad, the feelings I have inside. To borrow from Staind:

My love, 

You're my world, the shelter from the rain
You're the pills that take away my pain
Youre the light that helps me find my way
You're the words when I have nothing to say

And in this world where nothing else is true
Here I am still tangled up in you
I'm still tangled up in you
Still tangled up in you

You're the fire that warms me when Im cold
You're the hand I have to hold as I grow old
You're the shore when I am lost at sea
You're the only thing that I like about me

And in this world where nothing else is true
Here I am still tangled up in you
I'm still tangled up in you

How long has it been since this storyline began
And I hope it never ends and goes like this forever

In this world where nothing else is true
Here I am still tangled up in you, tangled up in you
Im still tangled up in you
Still tangled up in you

Come back, my love, my wonderful wife. The best wife in the world, no matter how hard I was on you. I am working on that, I have been. I promise that I am fixing it. Cushing's or not, I will find a way to not let those rages affect you again. You saw I was working on it. I was getting better, and will get better. If disability wont help me, I will work what I can. I will provide a living for us. I will not let this sickness devour me anymore. I will do anything just to hold you in my arms. Please, my wonderful sweetheart, please talk to me. 

Without your love as my anchor, there is nothing but the void where our story ends. Please, dont let this end like a hollywood tragedy. Lets make this a sappy love story, where we both work on ourselves and come back and talk. Please?

If you can read this, my love, know I will keep the home fires burning. I will move mountains to be with you again. Whatever you need, as long as we can be together. I mean that. 

Really? I mean REALLY?

I dont get it.

I have enough on my plate to warrant the average person to wish to commit suicide. I do. Not the average person in any particular social or economic spectrum, just in general. Lets see, just a short list: I live with a brain tumor that causes me to go for days without sleeping, bouts of rage and fatigue, hormone deficiencies, nutrient deficiencies, constant pain, I cant work and because of it I face homelessness for my wife and I, I have little access to medical facilities, the only way we get food is threatened to be cut with the politics in D.C., what little I DO for money actually aggravates the disease, I spend 1/5 of my income just getting to and from the only job I can find, my living family has all but abandoned me, my wife's family all hates me, most of my friends are also sick and most are online, my wife is sick and out of work and I cant provide for her, and my life span is pretty much set in stone for me. I think I covered everything, but Im sure there is more.

The point is, there is A LOT I can point to and say "That's why I DESERVE to end it. I want the pain to end!" But so far, I have failed in that, thanks to many of you meddling people reading this. What KILLS me, no pun intended, is when people have WAY LESS to deal with, and are just having a rough day or week. Or maybe they had a fight with their significant other and are picking up the pieces. You see, Ive had that. And I had ALL OF THE ABOVE to deal with at the same time.

I know everyone's struggle is different, and maybe that rough patch IS the hardest part of their life to date. I don't know. What I do know, is that Ive had to deal with it, AND all of the above. And if I haven't, at least you dont have ALL OF THE ABOVE to deal with too. Quit bitching. Yes, its hard. Yes, its easier to give up. Yet, I do not. I find a reason to get up out of bed each day, even when it literally is the hardest part of my day. Even when I literally have to be carried out of bed, I make it. When when I have to be spoon fed, and its happened, or have had to be changed out of sheets I have urinated in, I push. And it pisses me off, again no pun intended, to see people who could carry half of MY burden and still be ok, bitch and moan and tell me they contemplate suicide. I understand depression, as it is a daily struggle with me and my wife, and most people I know. And it clouds the mind. I have to keep reminding myself that while I deserve for the pain to end, those around me dont deserve to hurt on my account. And the only thing worse to me than my life is hurting those I care about.

If you know me, you probably struggle. But any time you feel like you want end your life, read this. Or call me. Or text me. Ask me how my day was. Tell me you really want to know. If I cant make you feel better, at least I can make you thankful you arent in my shoes. And there are people who struggle just like me, sometimes even worse than me. This letter isnt for you. You know what Im talking about.

And Im not comparing who is suffering more. Im just tired of people telling me how they are going to kill themselves, how their life is so bad, and about so little, especially when you know people like me. Venting is one thing, but I feel like when people tell me this that they are again judging me and people like me. I dont kill myself, so they dont have much to stand on.

The Weary and very Annoyed Zebra

And thanks for letting me rant. Things have been rough, and we are in danger of getting evicted again. We have some irons in the fire, but nothing is for certain  If you could help us get through the next few months, we would really appreciate it. We are trying to raise $3000, which is 3 months rent. Thanks to all who have donated, and I ask only that you share the page with people you know, and we appreciate any donations.

Click here to Donate to our Rent fund.

In gratitude,
A Humble Zebra

Shackled by my Sentence.

I hope you all forgive me for not updating my blog sooner. Nothing has really gotten much better. My testosterone was replaced since last I posted. That has helped some things. But overall no big change. Thats why I havent posted anything. Nothing much to post.

Today was an interesting day. Overall a great day, in my book. And on days like today, Im able to better reflect on my situation. And its worse than I ever imagined. Today, I was in a cortisol high. So today was a different mind set than usual. Let me take you through the day.

I didnt sleep well at all last night.

I was hot, I have pinched nerves everywhere. Both arms are going numb no matter what positon Im in. But when I was able to sleep, I got the most vivid dreams. The only times Ive ever had these kind of dreams is when Im able to sleep durring a cortisol episode. And as usual, it was a nightmare.

In the dream, my mother and brother were both alive again. I was telling them all about our new home in Washington. My sister was there, and she was laughing and having a good time like we were. My dad was there, so happy. Like nothing was wrong. And my brother gets in his car to get something from the store, and he's T-Boned, right in front of me. Of us. My mother is there, sobbing as her baby is taken from her, and passes away in front of me. I loose them all over again. Over the next several hours, I drift between awake and asleep, seeing this over and over.

After one fit, I realise Im running late and it makes me so angry. Trying to keep it under wraps, I fumble through my morning, warning Mrs. Zebra that she is ok, but to watch out for me. She is so sweet. I just want to hold her and thank her, but this train isnt going that direction. All I can do is pull as hard as I can on the brake if I know the train is headed the wrong way, and hope for the best. I dont even remember what was setting me off, but I remember dropping everything I touched. The clumsiness comes with the corisol, and with that comes embarrassment  which turns to anger. To make my morning worse, I remember that I am broke after both of us the night before were too exhausted to cook dinner. We splurged on two Jr hamburgers. And that ate up what little money we had left. So I couldn't take the ferry, but instead had to drive the full hour to work. On my spare.

The enire way to my part time job (yep, only place that will take me, 1hr away), I tried so hard not to beat the cops to the police station. Luckly, traffic was on my side, and only a few people were told where to stick their hand and attitude. By now, Im very worried about the people who I have to make nice with to get donations. What will happen when the part of my brain that tells me to hang up on the crude, rude person on the line stops functioning? At least Im not in ANY pain. Yep. No pain. Thats what a cortisol high will do for you in the short term. Unfortunately  I had forgotten to grab my urine jug and cooler, or call in. I wasted several good urine collection opportunities. But Im collecting now.

Anyway, no rude people. Not one. Not a great day, mind you, but not one rude person. So I didnt blow up like I should have for my case. Doubled edged sword. The easy ride home gave me chances to reflect on my situation. My depression is almost 100% fatigue and stress. Doesn't cure the issue, but reaffirms my theory  And if something doesn't change soon, we will be homeless. Ive been very fortunate so far. But Im scared. If this day were every day, I could work. But Im up at 2:30am, and my mind and body feel good enough to write this. There is always a price. And that price will be any productivity when I crash, and for several days later. Probably tomorrow. But maybe this will last. Im hoping it does.

And of course, I have all this energy, and I cant focus on anything  This may SEEM put together, but I come back and add and take things as I come and go to other things. Thats probably one of the worst parts. That and the misplaced rage. Thats what I hate about this disease. Plans? I cant make plans. If I dont push myself to my breaking point, I cant do anything. I cant work. I cant go to school. And Im terrified every day of talking to people. I havent talked to some people in months. Im AFRAID to. Why? Lots of reasons. Only some rational. IDK. I just wish I could get someone to listen. I even wrote Jay Inslee, the WA governor. Not even a big EFF YOU.

Its pouring outside. Sounds so nice.

I just wish I could escape. Not just for me, but for everyone around me. I hate being so goddamn useless. And thats what I am. Useless. Im a wage slave, and because of it I cant do anything I can ACTUALLY do. In an ideal situation, I can work when I can, form home. But thats ideal. Not reality. And the longer I stay underemployed, the further I fall behind.

No wonder my family wont speak to me. Im useless.

The doctors dont care. They have all but said those words. So if I can get a few good UFCs, maybe I can get teh warden to raise an eyebrow. Because the system doesn't care that Im a prisoner of my own body. I got a day furrow, and Im tempted to keep going. To supplement this with my steroid pills. Its so hard being an addict to something your body makes too much of, especially when there is no on/off switch. For one day, I got to see what a semi-normal life might feel like. It wasn't my first taste, but it was just as sweet. Everyday, I loose hope of that every again.

Did anyone see the warden?

The Wired Weary Zebra

Emotional Blackmail and Cushing's

For those of you who know me personally, you probably know how hard the last month has been. If not let me give you a recap:

Two good friends of Mrs. Zebra and I broke up and one is living with us while they each figure out life without the other. The person staying with us is also chronically ill. She has fibromyalgia and severe migraines, among other things. We have a small sickie commune going on. Mrs Zebra and I both have been in and out of hospitals lately. I'm testing to confirm that the first surgery was not successful, and the last week, Mrs Zebra has been fighting a MRSA infection in her foot from an infected blister. Mix this with a new schedule with commuting the both of us that work, and it's not been exactly a restful time.

What you probably don't know is the other friend hadn't been taking this breakup kindly. He is also suffering from an illness, but I am not qualified to speak about it. Over the past month, he has been harassing our new housemate and to a lesser degree, both of us Zebras. But it's draining what little energy I have.

At first, I saw it as lashing out at her, and then us, for the break up and perceived "taking of sides". I won't get into details because it's not important. Suffice it to say that it's happening only from his end. But the threats on us keep happening. The calls at all hours, the text messages that say things like "well, you aren't answering right away, so I guess we aren't friends anymore" all hours, I mean the man doesn't get that I have a chronic illness, and have to rest or sleep every chance I get. Today, I realized he doesn't care.

This morning, we all were treated to a stressful morning where he was doing it again. He wasn't even letting me use the restroom or get dressed, which both can take considerable energy and time. And stress makes me worse. It makes me more sick. To have to worry about what kind of text message or phone call it is, makes me sick to my stomach.

You can't treat people this way. That's goes for anyone. You can't emotionally blackmail people into giving you attention and expect keep them around. It just doesn't happen. But to do it to people you know can't handle it, that takes either someone who really needs help, or is so beyond caring for people that it isn't worth the time or energy investment to find out.

And if you are reading this, and any of this rings a bell, here is a message straight to you: understanding goes both ways. I understand you are lonely and hurt, but a) its not my god damn fault, b) its not fair to take it out on sick people, and c) keeping it up isn't helping anybody. You have to understand that I don't have many friends because of this disease. People choose not to understand what's going on with me. They judge me for my lack of energy, my lack of social skills, my lack of money, my lack of anything else that makes them want to be friends. If you feel that you are one of these kinds of people, then I'm sorry but I cannot spend so much time and energy propping up your low self esteem if you wont or cant reciprocate. I just cant. I don't have the energy to properly take care of myself. If I spend energy on you, you have to do the same. You cannot expect to get positive results by emotionally blackmailing people, especially ones that are limping along as it is. And your actions have made us very worried about coming over. I'm not sure what you will do.

Now, if you feel you can properly give and take and handle an adult-like relationship with people, then not only will this work out, but I want to be that friend myself. I understand you are hurting. I understand that feeling, like sinking into a hole of worthlessness. I understand what its like to not have enough energy to wipe yourself in the bathroom, let alone get out of bed to do so. Understanding goes both ways. 

No one really wants to be alone all the time. And no one really has to. But lashing out isnt the answer, and for me, at least, I cant handle it. I'm too sick. And I don't have to. We can still be good friends. We can still work together. But that is really up to you. That's what we want. 

Specifically to our friend, you are a smart guy. One of the smartest I know. But I can only spend so much time trying to convince you to sober up from the funk you are in, and realize that. I'm too sick. And for that, I am sorry. 

The Emotionally Drained Weary Zebra

Falling Apart

Its Halloween today. My favoriate holiday. But, as with all my favoriate things, I can no longer enjoy them. I have been so sick the last few months, I havent had the energy to put up any of the decorations we have. Money has been so tight, that we cant afford to buy candy for the kids who didn't stop by. IN fact, beans and rice it is for our one meal today.

Im so depressed, it is getting harder and harder to get up in the morning. Not wake up, but to get out of bed. I just got out of sinus surgery on Monday. Turns out I had a fungal infection from the pituitary surgery 2 years ago. If we were still in Texas, I wouldn't have had the surgery. You have to be homeless to qualify for aid down there, and if you are homeless, you dont really count. Im still fighting disability, but they are relentless. Even DSHS (Dept of Social and Health Services) wants documents that either dont exist, or they have in their position already. But that is the deal. They grind you down. But today is the last day of my Charity Care at Swedish Medical Center. Maybe I will be able to get it again, but they said its not likely. They dont help indigent people or something.

Mrs. Zebra is cracking through the stress and depression. Im afraid she might leave me soon if something doesn't change. I guess I dont blame her. I am pretty worthless at this point. There used to be a significant section of my day devoted on figuring out what I could do for her next. Now, I cant do anything for her. I cant do anything to help our situation. Im helpless and hopeless. And alone.

The Very Weary and Depressed Zebra

Long time, no see...

Hey all. How have you been?

Im sorry its been so long. A lot has happened since I last posted. Mrs. Zebra lost her job, and to be closer to my doc in Seattle, we scrimped and scraped and barely made it up here. Just in time for the huge budget cuts to happen to social services. So we are in line to fill out paperwork to get in line to see a doctor. Mrs. Zebra is really sick, but we arent 100% sure what with. Her skin is thinning and her hands and feet are always in pain. I thought that I could go back to work and for the last month I have been commuting 2hrs one way to get to a part time job that makes just over minium wage. So after this month, we will probably be evicted. But maybe someone can help us out. Check out the video below and see if you can help.

The very weary zebra.

1 year post op: kick me while Im down why dont you?

Im sorry its been a while since my last update. Ive been so down and low in energy, and depressed that I just havent wanted to. That and I really feel like no one cares. 

Since my last update, I lost my insurance, and Mrs. Zebra lost her job thanks to the stalker and a co-worker dogging on her so much she snapped. Both of us are unemployed, both are sick. Im not sure what we are going to do, but we both feel we need to move west. Please, if you can, donate to help us move closer to Dr. Ludlum, by clicking the button in the upper left hand corner.

Last week, I had my 1year post op. I felt like crap all day after my Cortisol Stimulation Test, and couldnt get out of bed the next day.

I got a call from Dr. L's office today and I was kind of frustrated at it. Those of you who know what is going on with me might know why, but in a nutshell I had my pituitary slaughtered to rid myself of the tumor inside. They missed some, my numbers never crashed, and my pituitary never woke up again. In September, and January, same thing. I went to Seattle to do yet another CST, and now they are saying I have enough ACTH and cortisol to be life sustaining, but I still have Cushing's. My frustration comes from this: Later last week, I coudlnt get out of bed. Actually, I felt like crap all day Wednesday (the day of the test) and couldnt get out of bed Thursday morning either. So assuming Im still cyclical, and assuming my pituitary, until last week, was dead or zombified at least, wouldnt it be the TUMOR causing that? And if it is, is it really smart to be weening? How do we know if it is or not?

They want me to ween by 2.5mg a week, which is very slow. But last time I tried weening I ended up in the ER each time. I probably should have been in the ER last Thursday but I hadnt thrown up my stress dose (thanksAdrienne Brandstetter) and thats usually the point in which I go. What do you experts think? I know 20mg/day is high but if it is the tumor doing this, is weening off the steroids really that smart?

The pit is dead still, because Im not making GH or Testosterone either. The tumor is the only thing that could be making ACTH, even according to them. So why ween? If the tumor was "ON" that morning, even at a low enough level to look normal, I dont understand why that means Im ok to ween.

I hope this gets sorted soon, or I dont know what will happen.

Frustrated Weary Zebra

Laid Off

Due to medical, or the economy, or whatever, I was let go today. It was supposed to be my first day back and although I wasnt ready to go back to work physically, I was a little excited to get back in the editor's booth.This is has been such a hard year, I really hope and pray this is the last major obstacle we have to deal with. Im not sure either of us can take much more.
I have some options in both regarding this position, and others. But I am forcing myself to take one thing at a time. It is so hard dealing with this when you are so sick. I dont know how people do it. I really dont.

The Weary (jobless) Zebra

Posted via email from The weary Zebra: Zebra Snippets

A rock and a hard place

Well, its been a rough road. Its been a while since I did an update so here goes.

First: after the six months post op, I am not completely better. In many ways, I am worse. But the docs told me to expect much of this and I was a bit to optimistic when I began this journey. We still do not know conclusively if I still have Cushing's. The MRI that was taken last week doesn't show any tumor left, but I still show many cushing's symptoms. We cant test to see if I still have it because I have a massive sinus infection since surgery and the last few months I have had to take massive amounts of steroids to just keep it at bay. Those would throw off any testing on my adrenals.

My pituitary still isn't working. I am low on several hormones, including testosterone and growth hormone. Because of this, I hurt all over and many of my systems are not working correctly, including my immune system.
And because of my sinus infection, I am due into surgery in the next few weeks. Thankfully it is local, at UT Southwest. But these guys dont like me much. Hopefully they will now, since I am going under THEIR knife. Its supposed to be as bad as my immediate post op from pituitary surgery. Fun stuff. Just found out today!

So hopefully none of this will affect me trying to get back to work. I miss cutting video and making graphics! I need to stay off of work, but waiting on disability will break us. We cant afford to wait years. Maybe I can find a loophole in the mean time.

More to come as it happens!

Posted via email from The weary Zebra: Zebra Snippets

Latest in my fight...

I know I haven't updated in a long time so I thought I would. There hasn't been much to update honestly. I still feel like junk, but its slowly getting better. I still have no Growth Hormone, and my sinus infection is as bad as ever. I finally got a perception for nebulised antibiotics but I cant find a place that will work with my small insurance company named Blue Cross/Blue Shield.
My motion sickness that was going away, has come back and the steroids Im on now for the infection make me SICK AS HECK!
The good news? Well, the swelling has REALLY gone down. I have dropped several pants sizes, which is nice. Now I just need to quit sweating when its 20˚F outside!

Posted via email from The weary Zebra: Zebra Snippets

3 weeks post op

Im sorry I have not posted in a while. I have been so tired and sick lately I just have not had the energy. 

Mrs. Zebra and Dad-in-Law really pushed me the first few weeks to get out and do more and well intended as they were, I think I way over did it. I ended up in the hospital last week for a CSF (Cerebrospinal Fluid ) leak. I started dripping in a restaurant and that evening I was being transported from UT Southwestern ER to their Neuro ICU. Thats where I met the real reason I went to Swedish and Dr Ludlum/Mayberg instead of here. Once they found out I traveled to Seattle for my surgery, the docs became hostile and wanted to change up all my meds, and got really mad when I asked them to talk to the doctors whom care for me currently! I couldn't get the drip to reproduce but my drainage got worse. All the while, I am weening off my hydrocortisone which is the only thing standing between me and another trip to the ER. In fact, every morning between 2am and my 8am dose, I get to experience Adrenal Insufficiency. They dont worry because Im sleeping and its for a short time. And using this, its supposed to jump start my pituitary and so far it hasn't worked. 

So, friends, family, etc. I really cant go anywhere anymore. I had brain surgery. I look fine, but in the past week, I had a CSF leak and started bleeding internally again. I did way too much. Im sorry. I dont mean to disappoint you guys but my daily workout has been going to the bathroom in time to make it. If I have to, Ill start wearing bandages around my head. But feel free to come over and visit. Lord knows Im up for that! The apt is clean and you can move around it! And we do need some help with stuff. And just to come over and hang would be cool. But Mrs. Zebra canceled her old plans for my birthday this week and so far the plan is just for you guys to come over and hang out. She will have more details tonight. Thanks for understanding. If it helps, pretend I have cancer! 

I ween again tomorrow. The last one was scary, this one is even scarier. Keep me in your thoughts. For now, Im off for a nap. Doc appointment wore me out. Thanks Mike! You really came through!

The (very) Weary Zebra

Posted via email from The weary Zebra: Zebra Snippets

Post Op Day 9

The last nine days have been like nothing I have ever been through in my life.

I must first apologize for being so late on my update. I have been relying on Mrs. Zebra to update friends and family but she has been exhausted the last few days as have I. Spending more than 20 minutes looking at a computer monitor makes me physically ill. This is problematic since my only link to the outside world is social networks like Facebook, Twitter, and the Cushing's Support site.

On Tuesday, July 13th, 2010 my life changed forever. At least I believe that it did. I had 70% of my pituitary gland taken out to ensure the remaining 30% was tumor free. The surgeon, Dr. Marc Mayberg, believes beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he took all of the tumor out. The part that worries me, and to a smaller extent the doctors, is that my cortisol numbers DID drop below 2.0, but did not stay there. I have not had my levels checked since I was discharged that Friday, but it feels like I did crash and stay low since then. Let me tell you, the surgery is touted to be a simple one from a neurosurgeon's standpoint but is nothing short of hell. I woke up to crushing pain from my head, and the Diabetes Insipidus was already flushing my body of liquids. Every part of my body was heavy and ached. Every sound was like an ice pick into my skull as was every beam of light. Blood freely flowed from my nose as did Cerebrospinal Fluid. Thankfully the two CSF leaks I had quickly healed themselves. Then came more blood. During surgery, blood drained into my stomach. It came back up. Mrs. Zebra said walking into my room was like walking into a horror film. I was screaming for help because I had to use the restroom and I was bleed everywhere. All of this masked the pain from my abdomen for days, where they took fat to plug my pitutary cavity. This surgery is something that, unless completely necessary, I do not ever want to go through again. It was as if all the years of suffering were boiled down and injected into my head at once.

This is but about 1/3 of what came up. They dumped the other two before Mrs. Zebra took this.

The light and sound sensitivity were present right up through my discharge, but one other side effect that was not explained to me still lingers. I can not smell or taste anything but sweet and sour. Spice is an acid so its effects are felt, as well as the effects of salt, but nothing else. This makes every meal very depressing. 

Each and every morning is hard to get up, worse than my "crashes" before and now that I have started steeping down on my medicine I shiver under my covers from being cold. For the first time in my life, the air conditioning at night is too cold for me. I am not complaining, mind you, just amazed. Between my lows in the morning, my aches and pains all day, and my cold at night, at least for the moment I think my Cushing's is finally behind me. 

I take steroids to help me function through the day. Dr. Ludlum gives high doses of Cortef to start, 30mg three times a day. Enough to give me back my Cushing's if stayed on too long. So he instructs to ween by 10mg every 4 to 7 days. I started my first ween Tuesday, day 7 after surgery and 4 days after I started surgery, so I did. I felt it for sure that night. I slept much better than I ever have. Last night, the only thing that woke me up was the nausea that ripped through my body. Not enough to make me throw up, but close. Each day I am vigilant in looking for signs if Adrenal Insufficiency. What worries me is that I truly dont know what A.I. is like because I dont know if I truly every felt it. What is A.I. and what is nausea from drainage from the never ending head cold I have now?

Besides the drainage, and the nausea, the fatigue is more than I could have anticipated. Even on the high doses of steroids, just getting up to use the restroom that is 25ft MAX away from my spot on the couch is enough to make me feel weak and tired. Milk jugs, water pitchers, even my Macbook Pro are way to heavy to carry further than a few feet. This makes dealing with every day events hard. Especially the fact that my Diabetes Insipidus is just barely under control. 

My days since arriving back home have consisted of resting and letting Mrs. Zebra's Father help with cooking, cleaning, and the like. He has been a huge help and when he leaves he will be missed more than he realizes. He is giving both myself and Mrs. Zebra a much needed break. For now, I focus on healing and fixing the vast sums of medical bills that come in. $100K just for testing is a bit much, but it is getting take care of. Mrs. Zebra is next. Hopefully she can either get on the new state insurance plan paid for by the new federal law or we will have to do something drastic. She is showing more and more symptoms of this dreaded disease every day. It is a horrible disease, and an almost as equally horrible ordeal for remission. I wish this only on those who refute it's existence or refuse to understand what living this way is like. It is nothing to wish for. My net time is about up for now. Time for a nap.

The Weary Zebra

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Fireworks

For the first time in my life, I had the opportunity to sit outside and watch the firework on Independence Day WITHOUT SWEATING!. Unfortunately, I was too pooped to make it down to the park. And it was raining off and on. So this is as close as I got. And I misjudged the distance of the fireworks when I snapped this picture because I thought this was a big as they were going to get. NOPE! But it was bitter sweet.
I got in to Seattle about 7:30 pm and missed the cafeteria here being open. So I had to either eat ramen or order out.

I ordered out. But NOTHING is open on the 4th around here except Pizza Hut. Oh well. So I ordered and decided, since it be about 2 hrs (yea, THAT busy) I would go try to find the fireworks. A nurse was opening up the 6th floor facing that way and we had about 3 couples join us. It was cool, all the sickos huddled around the window watching fireworks. The pasta got here early so I had to bolt, but it was still neat. I just really missed Mrs. Zebra. She is still in Texas, worried sick about me. I wish I could have shared it with her. It may be something we will do next year.

I couldn't sleep. Both lonely, and hot, It was hard to sleep. And teh battle between jet lag and cortisol was waged, and this time cortisol won. I didn't sleep until 2am local time (4am central) and I was up at 6:20am local time. But its nice outside. About 54°, and they are already warning of the heat wave this weekend: 84°! HA! Home away from home!

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Afraid

Today I am 17 Days out from surgery. Im beginning to have some 2nd and even 3rd thoughts about it. This is battling with the rational thought that I NEED this surgery. I just thought I would get some of these out.
Im afraid I might not make it through surgery.

Im afraid my personality might change drastically.

Im afraid they wont get it all, and it will have been for nothing.

Im afraid I will get a Cerebrospinal Fluid Leak.

Im afraid of how I will feel afterwards.

Im afraid I will be an invalid.

Im afraid I will make Mrs. Zebra too jealous of my being able to stay home while she works.

Im afraid they wont find ANY tumor at all.

Im afraid we will go bankrupt because of my illness.

Im afraid Mrs. Zebra will leave me for a healthier man.

Im afraid my work will let me go because of my illness.

Im afraid of being hospitalized (though its been on my list of things to experience in this life)

Im afraid my family will become even more distant than they already are.

Im afraid of being more lonely than I am now.

Im afraid adrenal insufficiency.
Im afraid of giving myself injections.

Im afraid of weening.

Im afraid of being alone.

Im afraid I will be a burden on my father-in-law.

Im afraid no one will visit me, as is common with Cushing's.

Im afraid my pituitary will never turn back on.

Im afraid my adrenals wont ever work right again.

Im afraid I wont know what to do with myself when I AM better.

Im afraid of my life being so different afterwards.

Im afraid nothing will happen.

Im afraid the surgeon will sneeze during surgery.

Im afraid an earthquake will strike during surgery.

Im afraid of an electrical outage during surgery.

Im afraid I wont be thought of.

Im afraid.

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Communication Disconnect

Today's blog comes to us from a good friend in the Washington area. Hopefully we will see her when we go to Seattle in 2 weeks. 

With Cushing's, there can be a huge disconnect with how we process information both input and output, especially while talking. That is why I usually like to email or instant message, or even text instead of talking on the phone or talking face to face. It has always been like this as long as I can remember, but with the tech revolution it has been easier for me to communicate my thoughts and feelings to people with tech ability. Below is what my good friend said to me, and I agree whole heartedly.

"Whenever I have to wait somewhere I organize (everything) it and write notes to myself so that when I get on the phone with these people I don't sound like an idiot. They get so irritated when you overstate what you need. I sometimes will tell them in advance when they answer. "listen..before we start I want you to know I have a brain tumor. This kind of tumor affects my thought process in a way that I can't articulate myself with a short explanation and a long explanation may even miss the point so please bear with me. It also affects me in a way that I am exhausted most of the time and I'm easily stress because I lack the proper stress and energy hormones so some of these issues weren't addressed in a timely manner. Is it possible for us to do this through IM, email, fax or snail mail so that I can get the assistance I need from another person or have time to think out your response and my answer?" I USUALLY get a decent response.

I think that when they mention that people with Cushings become reclusive that this communication problem is part of the reason. What I've noticed is that people with Cushings seem to have above average intelligence and most of us do more in a day than the average Joe does in a week - when we're sick- when we're not sick we can fit a month ... See Moreinto a week. But when we're sick something misfires in our processing. Whatever step happens between the information going out or coming in gets garbled in transition. We CAN understand and we KNOW what we want to say or do but it theres a pause for us. It makes us seem like we don't know what they mean. Most of the people around me get frustrated because they are accustomed to me being sharp. They're already talking about something else by the time I get my original response out. Some even get mad because they think I'm not paying attn. Some get frustrated because I subconsciously just keep talking while I'm waiting for the real answer to come out in order to keep them from changing the subject or having a long awkward pause or just hoping that whatever comes out will include the answer. so...I just dont start or get involved in intelligent conversations because I'm so slow."

The Weary Zebra and Friends

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Pick Your Poison

A good friend that reads this blog was talking to be about how Cushing's effects our sleeping patterns. And she said that "it feels like I am getting shots of Nyquill and expresso at the most inappropriate times," I thought that was one of the most brilliant explanations I have ever heard! The only thing was that I would have said energy drink instead of coffee because I hate coffee and dont know what it really does to the body, but tomato, tomaato.
Let me explain a typical Cushie day for me, in the light of energy levels. I have to get up earlier than most people would, because it takes me longer to get up and dressed. Truth be told, it would be MUCH earlier than that if I didnt have help. It is embarrassing to say, but Mrs. Zebra helps me every morning by picking out my clothes from the closet and drawers, putting together my shorts with belt and such, and helping me up so I can put them on. She also feeds the bunny and cat and fixes breakfast all because I feel like I just took a shot of Nyquil. At least a shot. And I usually feel like this all day, with aches and pains, and the crushing tiredness like I want to fall asleep. Even while driving. In fact, imagine driving a bus full of kids feeling like this. I did, for 4 years and a full time student. HELL.

Sometimes I will get my expresso feeling around 3-4pm (1500-1600), but usually happens around 8pm (2000). I feel so much better! I have all this energy! My aches and pains start to fade away! So time to do something constructive, right? Not a chance. I cant focus. I had too much "coffee". Now all I can do is shake and rock and try to tire myself out because I need to go to sleep soon! Then my chest starts to hurt, and every vein in my body feels like its going to burst. And my head starts to hurt. Then, as it gets closer to midnight, I get a dose of BOTH Nyquill and expresso. So now I feel so tired but CAN'T sleep! And I feel like Im going to explode!
So around 2am, sometimes as late as 4am, I finally fall asleep. Sometimes earlier if the sleeping pill works. Then I have to get up about 6am. Sometimes earlier. And I toss and turn all night, sweating and I wake up sore and tired again.
This morning was nice because that happened last night, but today is my first day off in months! I dont have any cash to shop with, no where to go and nothing to do. I got to sleep in a bit, and am about to take a nap.
I think Im dressed for the occasion!

The Weary Zebra

See and download the full gallery on posterous

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Errands and Pride

I wont lie. I hate mundane shopping. I love cool shopping. Shopping for gadgets, computer parts, movies, action figures (don't judge me!), costume parts, etc. But shopping for clothes sucks (I cant wear most of the cool stuff, but Big and Tall is getting some cool stuff. Will post pics of dork pants later!), and grocery shopping kills me.
Two days ago, I had to make yet another quick trip to Wal-Mart. This weekend, we need to make a list of stuff we need. Anyway, everything was grocery except the Miracle-Gro. Funny they come in singles, like Kool-Aid. My mother always used to say she fed us the stuff. And the way the store is laid out, all the plant stuff is on the other side of the huge store. So I grab a cart and head that way. Now, I remind you that even though I have had Cushing's for 18 years, my symptoms have only gotten really bad the past 3-5 years. I used to pull 10 of these carts in at a time with rope hundreds of times a day. When I was a cart pusher at this same store, I could push 100 of them with two guys helping and one to steer. I didn't make it half way to the other side of the store with ONE empty car before I had to stop and rest. I was pouring sweat and ached all over like I HAD pulled 10 of these. You can imagine what it was like when I got it this full. This was most of it. I juts got some fresh veggies and checked out at the self check out.
When my back was out, I had no problem using the electric carts. And to some degree, it is still out. But I didn't want to use the stupid things again. This trip showed me that I just might have to the next time.
Or just drive my smart inside.

The Weary Zebra

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Zebra Snippet 6: Alone

I think its #6 anyway. Im not looking right now. Probably have 10 #6s up there right now. It shows how stupid I can be. This is what I wanted to talk about. The depression. I think I mentioned it in an earlier one, and if so don't bother reading this one. A reader told me on twitter that I have inspired her to blog. Well, Im glad it helped someone. I try. Sometimes I dont think I make any sense, or make any difference. I feel so alone sometimes. Like right now. My cortisol is high, I know that, but my hormones are crazy and I feel so down. Like I am alone in the world. Like the people online are so far removed, and my family doesnt understand or is avoiding me because of my illness. I just want to die when I get this feeling. And the only thing that gets me through the day is the knowledge that its hormonal. Its hard to remember with any kind of rational thought that all the feelings are wrong. That people do care about you. That your skin will stop crawling, that the cat that you see isn't really there, that the nightmares will one day stop. Its hard.
This is to anyone that finds my blogs helpful in any way: Make a comment if you can. A little feedback goes a long way. 21 days until I go to Dr. Ludlum's Cushie Camp. I just want the elephant off my chest and to feel human again.

The Weary Zebra

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Wanna know what Cushing's Affects?

Watching the Health Insurance Reform pass, I was reading Moxie Molly's Blog and saw this picture. I think it says it all. There isnt much this disease doesn't affect. It looks like another long night...