Yesterday I used restraint and ran only 10 miles. This was my 'getting back into running' post marathon workout. I love that this is the point that I am at now and I have thought of where I was four years ago.
At that point I had run a few marathons and my lifestyle was drastically less harmful than it had been in my 20s. The worst thing I had going was on and off bouts with cigarettes, though not ideal, a huge improvement. My health was very good except for hepatitis C. Though this was asymptomatic, I wanted it gone, so I embarked on the only know remedy of interferon and ribovirin.
This treatment has pretty horrendous side effects and only has about a 45 percent success rate for those with the genotype that I have. I was 11 weeks into the 48 week course of treatment when I was hospitalized with very serious and initially unclear complications. I had already lost a lot of weight and was generally constantly nauseous from the normal side effects, but I really couldn't begin to count the times I threw up the last few days before I went into the hospital. The only thing I had any desire to ingest was orange juice, which I would later find out was potentially the worse thing I could take in.
Initially I was admitted because of dehydration and my memory is relatively fuzzy from that point. Test revealed that I had pancreatitis and that levels in my blood where wildly off and I was moved to intensive care. My pH balance was far enough that they used the phrase "incompatible with life" a number of times to describe my general state of bodily fluids. Another thing that was discovered that my blood glucose levels were initial unmeasureable, but after giving my insulin lowered to somewhere in the 800s (100 is normal and most people only deviate around 20 above or below that).
I was conscious during this but I was amazingly altered and incapacitated. There was about a four of five day period where I did not really move. I was aware, but it never occurred to me to do things live roll over. I also was hallucinating pretty wildly, but it didn't occur to me to mention it for a few days. When I did the doctor said that there were so many potential reasons for it that we shouldn't worry unless it didn't go away. I think it did in that the ceiling doesn't generally bounce back and forth and turn colors anymore. Luckily I had seen things like this before so it wasn't too shocking. One thing I do remember pretty vividly was the look on people’s faces when they looked at me. As someone who loathes causing distress to the point of obsession, causing those expressions of shock and worry was not comfortable even in that state. Emily and friends and family recognized this as the serious ordeal that it was, but I was blessed with a weeks of lack of perspective before I would realize the meaning of "incompatible with life".
My blood eventually became compatible with life. When I left the hospital my levels weren’t all normal, but they would be except for one. This experience destroyed the islet cells in my pancreas leaving me permanently a type one diabetic.
It was sometime in late January when I came home. At that point I could walk, but I was weakened beyond anything I thought possible. I previously never had any reason to understand that your legs don't have to be directly injured make them just not really work. I will never forget the first time I walked around a block. Emily had to walk with me in case I wasn’t able and I barely was able - a fucking block!!
That is enough for now. Obviously this story gets way better.
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