The allergist says that a lot of auto-immune diseases like hyperthyroidism can lead to hives (urticaria). When I went in this morning (after 72 hours of no anti-histamines yarrrrr!!!) he gave me a pretty cool informational pep talk. Then he did a scratch test because I said "I am not living without anti-histamines ever again - you better test this while you can", which turned out negative for all foods/typical allergens. Anyways, what this is I took away from the talk.

Your immune system has mast cells to fight off allergens. They release histamines which cause inflammation and the typical symptoms of an allergy. There are four typical areas of release:

Mast cells releasing histamines in the skin = hives.
Mast cells releasing histamines in the stomach = heartburn.
Mast cells releasing histamines in the lungs = asthma.
And there's another one but I forgot it.

Sometimes your immune system attacks mast cell receptors which triggers the histamine release without any allergens present - this is most likely what is happening to me. Mast cells can also be triggered by food/drugs/dust/latex/side effects/etc, but he strongly believes this is tied to my already present auto-immune disease, and that makes sense to me - no new foods/detergents/anything.

Then he gave me a Rx for and samples of Zyrtec. Once the body has calmed down, I may be able to go off of it at some point. If the body doesn't calm down, I have to go back to prednisone and zyrtec. All the while taking Zantac for the heartburn, because the H2 blockers are more correct in my case than the Prilosec.

I love drugs. I feel like a zombie with an all new set of aches and pains and sleepyness, but I am itch-free again.

Itchy.

That is all.

(Dr. gave me new Rxs for zyrtec and more prednisone to take with the prilosec - the two pronged attack against H1 and H2s I guess. And told me to contact an allergist, and took a blood draw for a allergy panel. This after she just got out of the hospital herself - love love love Dr. Villegas)

Ahh! They're coming back! Am now on the fourth day of the prednisone regimine, which is guaranteed to reduce anxiety, deflame allergic reactions, change your personality, your appetite, and paint your house - in other words - the wonder drug!

Day 1) 4 pills
Day 2) 4 pills
Day 3) 3 pills
Day 4) 3 pills
Day 5) 2 pills
Day 6) 2 pills
Day 7) 1 pill
Day 8) 1 pill

This drug is so wonderful that you have to trick your body to go without it by backing off of it slowly. Or it's so toxic that they can't leave you on it for long periods. Something like that. Either way, the less I take, the more hives I see.

Time to call the Dr. again!

Finally got seen by a real doc, got a Rx for hypdroxyzine and prednisone. Chest pain probably stubborn heartburn - since tums/zantac not working, graduating to prilosec. Will see if that's it. So far the theory is allergy to something (most likely not drug-related) causes hives + predisposition to heartburn. Or going hypo which can lead to hive, + mysterious heartburn.

I think I'm allergic to hard work, since the last time this happened was 4 years ago while in school. Too bad there's no scratch test for that!

So yeah. Thanks to a helpful call with Nat and Adam, I kinda have a game plan now, which is to get prednisone from a helpful physician. The problem? There's this nagging thing called the Truth which I keep being stupid enough to tell people. I have hives, and my chest hurts. But do I just tell people that I have hives? Noooo, I tell them I have chest pain too. Because I'm a dumbass, and I can't keep my mouth shut. I should know the medical system. Or at least, you'd think with being the kid of a doc, volunteering + working in a hospital for 3 years, and reading all these books on nursing for the possible career change that I'd know the fears of malpractice. You'd think I'd know not to alarm them and be handwashed off to someone else. But I'm still a dumbass.

Me to physician's office: "Hi, can I get an appointment? I'm going to be in town and I'm having an allergic reaction to something - hives and a bit of pain in my chest."
Physician's office: "PAIN IN YOUR CHEST? OMG GOES TO URGENT CARE NOW PLEEZ!"

Hrr, ok.
*30 minute drive in rush hour to Urgent Care that is ok by my insurance.*

Me to urgent care: "Hi, do you take care of allergic reactions?"
Urgent care:
"Why yes! Please sit in our small, espanol-blasting, optimistically not-too-many-people-in-front-of-me waiting room and fill out these forms."
...
"Hmm...it says you have chest pain here?"
uh-oh.
"Did you know that chest pain means that you should go to the ER? No, seriously. You're like, urgently dying on us right now, and even though you've waited for 20 minutes here at U.S. Deathworks Urgent Care, you need to go wait 5 hours in the emergency room for someone to help you. Because you know, it's CHEST PAIN. That means you're practically dead. And we don't do dead. I'm just going to shred these forms and any evidence that you ever stopped in, ok? Taataa!!!"

Hmm. Well, it's a good thing I'm about to die, because these hives are taking over my face. And that's just not pretty. It's also a good thing I don't give a shit what other people think, because I'm starting to think that the stares I'm getting in the elevator might not be because of my gorgeous facial structure. On the plus side, I've always wanted to look like Lt. Commander Warf, and if I keep this up, I'll definitely have the forehead lumps well developed in time for Halloween.

Anyways, you can tell I didn't bother going to the emergency room. It's because I'm asian, isn't it? I just can't bring myself to 1) bother the extremely busy ER with non-life-threatening itchiness, and 2) I don't want to pay the 50$ co-pay or the ??? bill afterwards. I forgot 3) I'd rather spend 5 hours not sitting in the ER. That's kinda a big one for me. Oh, and 4) For god's sake, I'm pretty sure I'm not dying here, people! Granted, two days ago when it was absolutely awful it did feel like I was dying, but it went away! Well, most of it.

I'm really thankful for dad and J's dad, because they've kept me lucid enough to realize these facts. And they know the jerking around that our LOVELY medical system can inflict, and how to avoid it. The chest pain could be some cracked sternum cartilage. Or possibly pneumonia that hit with the allergies. It could be multiple things that aren't going to kill me...I just need to find a doctor that has the time to listen and figure it out.

And this is why I need a good family practitioner in the bay area instead of putting off finding one and just going home for appointments. Luckily, the Workers Comp. Dr. who gave me my nerve conduction test today recommended a good ob/gyn and a good endocrinologist - a serendipitious conversation that started with her asking about my hives. (BTW, the nerve conduction test is actually kinda cool. She held this tazer like thing to my arms and shocked me in a bunch of different places on my forearms to test nerve speed, and then stuck a wired-up .25 gauge needle in a bunch of different places and wiggled it around, looking for odd waveforms. Only the left thumb one was grimacingly painful - everything else was pretty chill.)

I'm going home tomorrow. Thank god for the corporate whore jet. I'm going to make sure some doc just sits down and listens to me. And gives me prednisone. And figures out why it feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest intermittently. That'll be a nice weight to get rid of. And then I can get to all the work that I've been unable to do this week, and the credit card that was compromised yesterday, and the 13% that WFMI lost that puts me in 3rd place...ugh! Maybe I'll keep the hives.

"I'm going to die. Seriously. It's way too late to call people just to complain that my chest hurts. No one can do anything about it. But oh god, it hurts. Why does it hurt? Stupid doctors. Isn't there a better way to figure out you're allergic to things besides just trying them? Ow. No one else is even going to know that I'm dead for like, a Week. And I locked the door because I'm wearing as little as possible in order to not aggravate the itching and oh god even if I die like this my roommate won't break it down until I've already started smelling and I sure hope that these hives have gone away after I'm dead because he's gonna see Everything and I hope my parents understand why I'm not wearing underwear at my funeral. Why does my HAIR ITCH??? What does that even mean? Wow, these hives are freaky looking. Thank god for calamine lotion, because I can no longer feel them itching. Of course, I'd gladly take the itching if the burning/tightness/compression in my chest would go away. Ow. I should call my dad and see if taking advil would help. It's too late to call my dad. Ow. Fuck it, I'm taking the advil. Hopefully it won't fuck things up more. Ow. I'm so gonna die."

30 minutes later...

Zzzzzzzz.

Aiyeee I've come down with a full blown allergic reaction to something. It is not fun. This is the second time I've had one, so at least I know what to expect and that it will go away at some point. Gawd, I still remember the first one scaring the living shit out of me in college. I was working desk, and all of a sudden I wanted to tear the skin of my palms off. Nothing like that to make you feel like you've gone psycho.

Itchy everything + weird allergy type heartburn = no fun or sleep.

I called the endocrinologist, she says it's not likely it's the thyroid medication because I've been on it for so long (4 years!), and that it's more likely it's the new pill, Yasmin. 2.5 weeks into it, I didn't stop taking it immediately because I thought - well, maybe I can make it to the 3 week point, where it won't be an issue, and I was also putting myself on some badly executed experiment where I'd delay taking one to see if it was the other, but not stop taking either entirely. But after a few tossing/turning nights, I finally called the dr. today about the hives so we'll see what she says. Either way, I refuse to take any more pills until this goes away. Scary shit, this is.

I know logically that my refusal doesn't make any sense, and that I should continue the thyroid medication because the most logical culprit is the Yasmin, but the inner animal part of me has thrown down it's heels. It is very, very weird to think that I am no longer exhibiting rational behavior, and not have a good explanation for it. If I were an outsider looking in, I'd probably shake myself. But the animal instinct wins - these pills are making me unhappy, therefore I will not take any of them.

Me + medication = retarded.

Me + calamine lotion/cortisone cream/chlortrimeton = less itchy, much less miserable May.

Me is sick of having something WRONG with me like every other week and would like a cheezburger pleez.

MIT Dean of Admissions resigns for falsifying resume.

Well, I'm glad they didn't catch that one earlier...

I'm lonely and wish I had more friends in the area.

I want people to watch movies with.
To talk books with.
To cook and eat dinner with.
To drag and be dragged to concerts.
To go climbing/running with.

There is only so much library book reading I can do. Or cooking for one 5/7 days of the week.

GAAAAAHHHH it's like the more time I spend trying to be self-reliant and independent the more people see me as such. And the more retarded I sound when meeting people. "BE MY FRIEND PLEEEEEEZ" with a slightly hopeful expression, only to violently withdraw when said person does not fit the mental ideal I thought they would/could/should be. Helllo, did I ever learn from middle-school crushes??? Accepting people for who they are and not imprinting them on my cookie-cutter mold? Naaaahhhh.

*situation is not nearly as desperate as the author would like you to believe. well, ok, it is slightly sad. but there are said individuals to hang out with when she bothers to make the effort to schedule things. and there are the many, many people that she should call and catch up with - apologies to said people - but hasn't because the lack of geographical and emotional closeness to enough people has rendered her completely batty. it's also more than likely that a hormonal change is behind all this, at which point you will hear that she is completely and utterly blissful tomorrow.*

You know those happy pictures of people having dinner parties? I want those. Hollywood has created this ideal of a life that I want to have and since I don't it sucks. People in movies never have to post BE MY FRIEND PLEEEEEEZ! on craigslist. I haven't done it yet, but I'm thinking about it...

(Sometimes, I see myself as a Sim with social level 6 and no one else in the neighborhood. And the pure mention of The Sims is probably why I don't have any real friends.)

I was going to be his third wife, if the second one approved.

He gave me my life's meaning, which was meaningless.

And he was one of my favorite authors.

Also, does anyone else owe startling amounts of taxes to the IRS?

1000 federal, 500 state. I may be doing something wrong in TurboTax. Cuz I'm a n00b.

Fail

Body: Sadness.

My indoor soccer team took on a bunch of rowdies yesterday. Average age of our players? 33. Average age of theirs? 16.

I've got two strained calves and a bruised achilles (from an earlier outdoor game) and am hobbling around cubicle-land like a lifer. My teammates have endured: arm/leg bruising, torn ACL&MCL, knee cap cutting through skin, etc. etc.

And God DAMN, do I feel old. Can I go shake my younger self for taking youthful energy and healing for granted? While I'm at it, I miss my younger belly. This one has stopped taking in massive amounts of food while not looking like it.

To add insult to injury, one of the girl's moms was yelling "take them out!"

Hah.

Hopefully I'll get a chance to write a bit more, though right now it's just of course busy busy and I'm trying not to drown in the work deadlines and the socializing that comes from attempting to pull off a full and complete life with some free food thrown in for fun.

Paris was amazing. But you knew that already. Everyone was nice, I ate lots and lots of uber-good dairy (the US is starting to get good cheese, but butter you could eat off a spoon? not yet.), Justin's parents took us out to very nice restaurants, museums, concerts, and I LOVE the outdoor markets with their beautiful garlic olives and black radishes. I came back with a blazer, a shiny brown trench coat, a beautiful blue silk scarf/wrap, chestnut cream, valhrona and michael cluizel chocolate, and 3 bottles of jam - wild blueberry, onion/red wine confit, and green tomato. Pierre Herme macaroons are every bit as good as the blog world says they are, read *Amazing*, but the Laduree ones were a bit soggy. I did start chafing at the bit w/ all the family time, however. As nice as it was to be translated and treated to a lot of Paris, I missed the wild adventuring that happens when you only have your wits and a pittance to get along. The old May, the rebel who braves crazy new things and white water and frog legs, is starting to show through. Ok, so I did try frog legs. But I felt too much like a kept woman. Even seeing Henry Kissinger walk into the restaurant we were eating at didn't erase that. (Though it was uber-cool, for the political fan-girl side of me. I nodded, and he said "hello" in that deeeeeep voice of his, and I was his for all eternity.)

Ahhh this is so badly written I want to hurt things or re-write...no time for the latter. Sigh.

Notre Dame was beautiful enough to bring me to tears. I am glad that I was prescient enough to go to that one alone. The Louvre was also amazing. I think Pressly would be happy to know that I now understand why he tried so hard to teach us paintings from black/white photocopies. Justin saw a kid walking from picture to picture, snapping photos at each one but not looking, not thinking, just clicking. I could have shook him but instead lost myself in the different emotions passing through me. PMS has nothing on the Louvre.

One thing that I wasn't expecting was the large amounts of pigeon and dog poop on the sidewalks. LARGE amounts. In all sorts of colors. What on earth are they feeding those animals???

Anyways, what I really wanted to write today is kind of a PSA for guys. Today as I was leaving for the commute to work, Justin told me I looked pretty. I immediately forgave him for any multitude of unimportant annoyances committed in the past week, extending a few days in the future.

Funny, to end up a girl after so many years of fighting it.

Actually, not really, but I find people think I'm much more exciting if I say things like that. Like, "Burnt frittata, you are killing my will to live!" Or the uber relevant "the stock market is killing my will to go on".

Anyways, I keep staring at the screen waiting to see "Google Reader (1)". UPDATE, people, UPDATE! Seriously. I can't go to the gym knowing that I might miss one MINUTE of your daily lives. Yes, I'm blaming you for my fatness. So get moving!

I think I'll go get some Haagen-Daaz and stare hopefully at the screen a bit more.

Tuesday's little stock market tremor really gave me a taste of what the Market Crash of '29 must have been like - I got to work, checked marketwatch, parsed it for about 5 minutes, and then started thinking "SELL SELLL SELLLLLLL". So, I dumped MT and PCU (steel and copper companies) as fast as I could, figuring the others would be less volatile.

haahahaahaha

If I had held onto them, I would have a few thousand more in our little virtual stock exchange game. Which, Patrick, was a totally genius move on your part. What better way to learn what NOT to do than play with loads of risk free money? Like selling off bubbly stocks too soon.

NPR today was talking about how the "dollar-cost average" effect gets less returns in the long run than the "buy low, sell high" philosophy, and it'd be interesting to pit the different strategies against each other. Usually I'm a fan of the DCA, because that's how my dad taught me to invest, but a work friend follows the BLSH, and both seem to be working...but now I'm willing to believe my returns are probably lower than they would be if I were trying to profit-take.

In the end though, the market is so irrational. Or I am, because I don't understand what's going on AT ALL.

*edit* A friend just sent me the 5 Geek Social Fallacies. Obviously not written by a writer, but decently thought out. What do you think, friends of geeks?