Dear Diarhea
Once when I was not updating this blog frequently I said that it wasn't “Dear Diary.” Somehow that thought permitted me to decide to write regardless.
But the thought isn't making sense to me. It seems better to treat it as “Dear Diary” for a while, and essentially require myself to write something in it nearly every day. That way perhaps I will get something approaching a habit of recording thoughts here.
Of course, knowing my own tendency toward scatological humor, it is more likely to end up being “Dear Diarhea.”
In that vein, I had some medical troubles that started up around the beginning of last November. The symptoms were a mild fever, fatigue, and well, lower intestinal problems. But at least I was regular for the first time in my life.
After about 3 weeks of it, off and on and mostly on, I decided it wasn't getting better and sought treatment. The doctor had no clue. Oh, but they've redfined fever — it's not a fever unless it is over 101° F. Am I supposed to feel better because one of my symptoms is no longer considered a symptom?
I experienced another month of increasingly unpleasant tests while they dug for things. They found a few things wrong — who at 45 doesn't have something wrong in their GI tract? — and prescribed a treatment for acid reflux. Huh? I hadn't recognized what they told me should have been almost constant heartburn? I'm not sure I believed that.
But nothing seemed to account for the not a fever, fatigue and GI problems.
I was determined to act as normally as possible, so as ratty as I felt, I still pushed myself to get on exercise machine 3 times a week, only for 5 minutes at first. I had a good time for about a week, which was the longest I'd felt good for more than 2 months. Then right back to bad.
After changing my acid reflux medication, the doctor pretty much washed his hands of me.
But that was my last bout that was recognizably the same illness. I've had single days without intestinal fortitude, but nothing serious.
I continued and increased my exercise to where my 3 sessions were 15, 15 and 30 minutes, covering 3 and 6 Nordic Track kilometers. Now that the weather has changed I am commuting to work by bike, riding about 3 kilometers in about 8 minutes. Not fast, not hard, but a lot of it.
So, did I get better on my own? Was it due to forcing myself to exercise, even though it was very little at first? Was it the acid reflux medication, and if so, does that mean that I was actually diverting most of that overproduction of acid down into my intestines to cause my unaccountable symptoms?
The world may never know.
(I promise to try not to detail health problems ever again.)