My greatest excuse is validated

A chapter in my life is over and hopefully won't have a sequel. Yesterday, I had my final doctor's appointment to go over the EEG that I had done about a month ago, and the verdict from the attractive doctor was exactly what I figured: that there was nothing apparently wrong with me. The funny thing was how she described what she found in the EEG:

"We did see some slowness, but...", she said.

"Wait. What do you mean, 'slowness'?", I asked.

"It's non-specific."

Oh, well that's very helpful.

Still, it's nice to know. The next time you think I'm being overly self-deprecating or trying to get out of something with a lame excuse, just remember this: it has now been scientifically proven and medically established that I am "slow".

Brains!! The Update

Since a few people have asked about my follow-up appointment to the neurologist yesterday, I figured I'd put it up here for those interested. If you're one of those people who is not concerned for my safety and well-being, then maybe you should stop reading here. Also, you should fuck off. Oh, I'm kidding (while not kidding).

So it turns out that my self-analysis was right: I'm getting super powers! So far, I only have heat vision (which means I'll have to get my prescription changed, but it's worth it) and shooting fire balls from my fingertips. They also found traces of mind-reading and super-human strength, but those won't be fully formed until the end of the year.

Actually, it only turns out that my self-analysis was right: there's nothing wrong with me. They found a couple of irregularities in my brain, but that seems to be the extent of the understanding. So I get to stop taking the evil drugs I've been on for the last three weeks (yay!) and have to start taking a different kind of drug that supposedly doesn't have the side effect of the other (which was turning me into an 80-year-old). But we'll see about that.

In a month, I have to have another brain scan to see if the irregularities are gone (note to hospital: say what you want, but my brain will always be irregular*). It's the nasty test where they put slimy little nodules all over my head, and part of the test seems to be if I can navigate the maze of phone numbers necessary to actually make the appointment. And here's the kicker: the night before the test, I can't sleep. Not at all. That may require some live blogging.

Honestly, I've really been touched by people's concern on this. On the scale of things that could go medically wrong, this ranks pretty low, but it's meant a lot to me that a lot of you folks have checked in and asked me how I'm doing. It's so small, but: Thanks. And again, to those of you who aren't concerned, I really can't stress this enough: please, at some point in the next few days, take just a few minutes out of your busy schedules and go fuck yourselves.

* had to be said

One last call for the fall

Here's the last post on Collapse '07: America Passes Out. I'm going back to my normal life and only revisiting this subject when events dictate, such as the likely moment when an alien baby springs from my head to start the invasion. I'll bet you're hoping you're around when THAT happens! Also, I may need you to write the post about that for me, since I'll likely have a really bad headache. At least.

So besides the emotions of worry, boredom and dizziness (are those all emotions?), I've felt an incredible gratitude this past week. I've realized how extraordinarily lucky I am in my family and friends. My parents drove six hours to spend the week with me, a ton of friends came by to visit in spite of me insisting that it wasn't a big deal, and two friends took a day off of work to keep me company in the ICU, exposing themselves to the unfortunate excretions of my roommate. I've gotten tons of well-wishing emails, comments and text messages, and every one of them has meant a great deal to me.

It's made me look back on my life and wonder if I was kind and attentive enough to the people I've known that have been through similar situations; if I've made those quick trips to the hospital or brought by some flowers or candy. If I haven't been good enough in the past, I will be in the future. Because I know how much it means and how great it can feel, even if you're in the hospital for something relatively small. To all of you who've said anything in the last week: thank you. It's been huge for me.

So let's talk about music and junk again, huh?

Turning crashes into quizzes

Hello, and welcome back to everyone's favorite blog game show: Where's Your Head At?! It's the game that's sweeping the nation, as we look inside Reid's brain and try to figure out what the hell's going on in there. But first an important message from your host and future invalid Reid:

So, talking to Hans yesterday, it was pointed out to me that I didn't send out any emails to tell anyone what had happened to me, that plenty of people had to learn about "Daddy's little spill" from a &*%$# blog. There's two reasons for this: one, because no matter how ridiculous it may sound, sending out an email about what happened to me just feels totally self-absorbed. Which, of course, this page is as well, but at least you can elect to stop looking here. Two, it's inevitable that someone will be left off of the email and feel hurt, which has already happened once this week. This is especially likely now since my lifelong claims of my brain being feeble are now proving to be completely true.

Everyone set? Okay! Let's play! All you have to do is answer the below questions in the comments. There are no correct answers...or are there?

1. Since there's no other reason for a perfectly healthy man to suddenly start getting seizures than the onset of incredible super powers...what will Reid's new super power be? And will it be used for good or evil?
2. Will Reid lose weight because he's kind of lost his appetite or gain weight because he's a little nervous about exercising on a light head? (note: you do not have to answer this question if your answer to #1 was "become kind of like The Hulk")
3. One of the doctors from the hospital came over to Reid's apartment last night to drop off an extension of the anti-seizure medication because the EEG showed "some unusual things". So, multiple choice: is this the doctors: a) being cautious, b) trying to keep down the super powers, or c) just making sure their fat cat buddies in the pharmaceuticals biz have a steady income flow for the cigars they smoke as they throw money around their dingy backrooms?
   
4. Who brought the flowers on Monday?
5. Who sent the cookies today? (you people are mysterious, aren't you?)
6. One of the side effects of the anti-seizure pills is dizziness. How much freaking sense does that make?!
   

That will about do it for this round! Be sure to answer all the questions for a chance at fabulous prizes! Until next time, this is your host Reid signing off with his new catch phrase: apoijdsafhewr;lijq;ewrm;

Dizzy, my head is spinning...

First things first: if you happened to see a guy pass out at 17th and R this past Sunday morning...that was me. Please write to me at areseven(at)gmail.com so I can not only give you about the biggest Thank You I've ever given anyone, but find out what the hell happened, the most important part being whether or not I had a seizure.

And now the full story, with apologies to the people who've already heard it a million times.

Saturday was a night of heavy drinking, but I don't think that had anything to do with it. I woke up after a short sleep, but I don't think that had anything to do with it, either. I was at home, rehydrated well and felt fine. But I wanted some breakfast, so I grabbed my book and headed off for Teaism.

About a block away from my place, I started feeling really light-headed. I assumed it was a hangover and that food would help, so I kept on. After another block, though, I realized I was in pretty bad shape, so I figured I'd just to the Safeway on 17th and get something to have at home. Somewhere down R street, I remember looking down at my feet and thinking that I needed to concentrate on walking straight, because everything else in the world was spinning around me.

At this point, my arch-enemy Hindsight said to me, "Why don't you just sit down for a minute?" But I had my mission for food and so I kept on.

The next thing I knew, I was in the back of an ambulance.

Strike that: I can't really say that it was the next thing I knew, because it was the most disorienting experience of my entire life. I came to strapped to a gurney, feeling like I was being kidnapped in spite of the fact that the two EMTs were very nice. The worst part was that they were asking me questions like, "What year is it?" and I didn't know. I mean: I really couldn't even begin to think of the answer. Not just that I couldn't guess wrong, but that I couldn't even think what format a guess should be in. Four thousand and twenty? A million? The '78 Steelers? Good guesses as far as I was concerned. It was absolutely the most frustrating thing in the world...I just didn't know.

They took me to GW hospital, and by the time they had me at the front desk, taking my information, everything was coming back to me. That was a relief, but it still didn't clear up anything. Why the hell would a guy with absolutely zero health problems suddenly pass out some Sunday morning?

They went backwards, which still makes me think there's something they weren't telling me. I started fully clothed sitting around in the ER, and slowly declined from there: in a gown, back on a gurney, in a whiplash collar (!), and up to my own room in the ICU (!!). Meanwhile, the doctors were taking gallons (it felt like) of blood out of me and conducting just about every possible acronymic test there is on me: EEG, MRI, MRA, EKG, ECG, you name it. I was still waking up dizzy every morning, and am still pretty dizzy as I write this, so I'll keep it short. All the thoughts I've had in the last three days about health care, hospital rooms, and impossibly attractive doctors will have to wait.

I do want to give a huge thanks to the people who came to visit me in spite of my insistence that no one see me/smell me at my worst. I'm really truly blessed with some amazing friends.