Category Archives: Health

Peritonsillar abscess and a fun trip to the Emergency Room

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I couldn’t sleep on Friday night because of the pain. I had my eyes closed while in bed from 8:45pm to 3:30am, wondering when the heck I would fall asleep. In between, I’d take sips of warm water and go to the bathroom to pee. When I woke up at around 7:30am, I knew I was not feeling any better… and in fact, I was feeling worse. I just had this gut feeling that this was far more than just HFM or tonsillitis. I went into the bathroom and shined my phone flashlight on the inside of my throat. The growth on my tonsil had not only gotten redder and bigger, but my uvula (you have one, too! It’s that little hanging ball in the back of your throat!) was completely pushed to the side due to the lopsided growth on my left tonsil. Having a “deviated” or lopsided uvula is very dangerous and is a reason in itself to go to the ER. The health article that outlined what “peritonsillar abscess” was basically gave me a bullet by bullet list of every single symptom I’d had this week, down to the very clear diagram of the abscess and how it creates a deviated uvula, which is how my throat looked! I felt worried and did not want the worst happening to me while traveling abroad. I needed to get this addressed ASAP, as in that morning.

I told Chris I had to make an urgent care visit, so he set me up with an appointment Saturday morning just a few blocks from our apartment. I walked over and was lucky to be the first person seen when they opened. The doctor took a look at me, listened to me discuss my symptoms in a near whisper (it hurt even more to speak that morning), and immediately told me I had to go the ER and explained what I had, which was exactly what I suspected: a peritonsillar abscess. She wrote me a note to get admitted to the ER. I walked over to the hospital’s emergency department and got evaluated right away (in times like this, I’m so grateful I live just one block over from a major hospital!). I did NOT foresee myself going to the ER this week… in fact, other than getting admitted into the Obsetrics department overnight at Lenox Hill in 2021, I’d never gotten admitted into any hospital ever, so this was a bit scary to be told I had to go to the ER right away.

Even though I was the first patient admitted to the emergency room that morning, end to end, it still took 6+ hours before I did all the required tests, blood draws, IVs, medications, treatments, and was finally discharged. Two doctors were assigned to me and attempted to drain my abscess after my cat scan revealed an abscess on the left side of my throat that was about three times the size of a quarter. They were unsuccessful, so they had to page a ENT specialist on the other side of the hospital to assist. It took him almost an hour to come, but I was so thankful when he did. He was really friendly and polite, explained everything very clearly to me, listened to everything I said and treated me with respect. He even insisted I just call him by his first name, Peter (that was very non-American of him; all doctors here always introduce themselves as Dr. “Last Name”!). He gave me two painful numbing shots with huge needles (!!) in the back of my throat, then proceeded to drain the abscess, or at first, attempted and failed, as well. Then he had to keep re-aiming and moving the needle (oh, what joy!) to get into the right spot. Even with the area numbed, it was absolutely miserable. Then, he did a rather large incision and fully drained the last bits. And as if THAT were not enough, with the two major areas where he drew out pus, he had to inject sodium chloride to cleanse the open wounds, and that was truly the cherry (or the scream) on top. The cup that held all the pus was pretty hideous; part of me wishes I took a photo of it just to document all the crap I’ve gone through in my motherhood journey as a way that I can tell Kaia, “See? This is how much Mummy loves you! Look at what I had to deal with because of you!” The entire process with the ENT, end to end, was over 30 minutes. Thirty miserable, intense, awful minutes. I wish this experience on no one, even all the people in my life who have knowingly wronged me.

All three doctors marveled over how well I dealt with the abscess draining. One of the attendings chuckled and said that women overall handle it far, far better than any men, but I probably was the best patient when it came to not moving, squirming, or screaming. The ENT doctor insisted that I must have extremely high pain tolerance because I never once asked him to stop or slow down, even when there were more difficult parts. They said that unfortunately, peri-tonsillar abscesses are actually relatively common. They see anywhere from 5-7 cases every week, and occasionally even more. Nothing really puts you more at risk for it (other than being around young kids, ahem). They say that perfectly healthy people just get it, and that it’s really just bad luck. They’re just happy that I came in today as opposed to waiting longer because in the absolute worst cases, the abscess spreads and could cause pneumonia or even SEPSIS.

I always laugh when people talk about high pain tolerance. I went through IVF, pregnancy, pregnancy sciatica, and a completely unmedicated labor and birth. Plus, I survived 14 months of breastfeeding that included pumping as well as two horrible milk clogs, one of which, to this day, still has a remaining scar on the side of my breast to remind me of my breastfeeding woes. If I am not on the top of the pain thresholds for humanity, then I don’t know who the hell is other than those really sad, unfortunate souls who have been tortured and raped in wars or nearly burned/beaten to death and still living.

So I finished my antibiotic IV. They checked my face and throat for swelling. I kept spitting out endless mucus and blood from my drainage and incision. They gave me two prescription painkillers, an antibiotic, and a steroid to take for the next 6-10 days. I got discharged at 4pm yesterday after over six hours in the ER, and I went to to the pharmacy to pick up my meds. And then I finally went home to Chris and Kaia. Chris spent much of the afternoon on hold trying to change our travel itinerary, and I’m sure Kaia was angsty because she had to stay home all day. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for them not knowing what was going to happen next with my ER discharge time constantly changing. They originally told me I’d be out by 2, best case, but I didn’t end up actually walking out until just past 4. We’d never have made our 5:30 flight out of JFK in time.

It’s okay, though. I’m happy I acted on my gut and went to Urgent Care, and then the ER, to get this abscess addressed and drained, plus the medications I needed. It means we’d have one day less in Europe, and we ended up having to cut Luxembourg entirely out of the itinerary. But now, we do have more time in Paris and the same amount of time in Strasbourg. I can’t really complain about having another night at home to rest, or an extra day to explore Paris.

This is yet another grim, painful reminder to me how important health is, and how it really trumps all else. If you don’t have your health, you truly have nothing else.

Massive growth on my left tonsil

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I woke up this morning hoping to feel better, but instead, I woke up to shine a light into my throat to discover that the HFM growth on my tonsil had only gotten larger. I cannot even open my mouth now past a certain extent without it hurting. Pushing my tongue down so that I can properly see the full growth is painful in itself. Talking hurts. Eating everything hurts. Even things you’d think would be soothing like hot liquids and soups just feel irritable. I took some honey and prescription strength ibuprofen, which seem to be helping a bit. Even breathing hurts since there’s wind that goes through your throat every time you breathe (hence… why it’s called a “wind pipe”).

Every time I have gotten sick like this because of little illnesses that Pookster has picked up, I always jokingly tell myself, “It was worth it to have a child, right? This is all making me stronger?”

Third time’s a charm with Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease

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I knew I was coming down with something again earlier this week. I could feel my throat getting sore. But it wasn’t until last night when I suddenly realized my toes and fingers felt painful in certain areas that I wondered if I had contracted hand, foot, mouth disease… for a third time? After dinner, I shined a light into my throat, and there it was: all the spots along my tonsils and back of my throat. I looked closely at my toes in the areas where I felt pain and sensitivity, and there were tiny little red dots that were painful to touch.

Here I am again, for the third time in my child’s life: with hand, foot, and mouth disease. The first time, in early 2023, I had it the worst: I had a fever, massively sore throat, body aches, the works along with all the spots that I somehow failed to notice until a doctor pointed them out to me. That was when Kaia picked up HFM from some kid in the building’s play room. The second time was summer 2023, where I had the spots and a sore throat, yet I was still functional and able to do meetings and calls, go to the gym, and do most things other than socialize in person. This time, the feeling of blades in my throat are the worst. This afternoon when having a quick verbal exchange with Chris, it felt like every word that came out of my mouth was like a cut in my throat. My fingers and toes are very uncomfortable. But the good news is that I don’t have a fever or body aches!

It’s okay, though. I’m resilient. I can get through all this. Pookster’s illnesses, even when she is asymptomatic, make me stronger, too, right? And the good news is that we still have plenty of food to eat so that I don’t have to cook. We have Vietnamese garlic noodles, roast chicken, stir-fried gai lan, as well as leftover rice and dal makhani! Hopefully, they won’t feel like blades going down my throat when I eat it all.

Meyers Iowa Pine Scented soap

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The soap in our main bathroom had just run out, so I was excited to open and use the new Meyers Iowa pine-scented soap. As I dispensed the soap and started scrubbing my hands, the bathroom was filled with this rich, refreshing scent of… CHRISTMAS TREES. Our bathroom smelled like a Christmas village, or like that amazing scent I look forward to every time we walk on the streets of New York in the month of December, and there’s a corner guy selling tightly wrapped and coiled Christmas trees!

It seems a little silly that this scent excited me so much when I washed my hands, but I really do believe that it’s these little moments in life that we need to embrace and enjoy because all of life is made up of teeny tiny moments that quickly happen… and then quickly pass us by and end.

This perfume-like experience also reminded me that pretty much *no one* I’ve ever been alongside in a public bathroom washes their hands for 20+ seconds, as was recommended during the COVID-area of life in 2020-2021. I’m always the only person who scrubs her hands for over 15 seconds and still standing at the sink. That’s kind of gross, but alas, people can be pretty gross! This pine scented soap makes me want to scrub for even longer!

Signs of getting older: not being able to easily thread a needle

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When I was young, my mom would ask me to help thread a needle whenever she was mending clothes. All clothes get worn, of course, but with the occasional hole or button that would come out, she was always quick to fix these for herself and for us. Even after I moved out for college and then work, whenever I’d be back home and she’d need to do a small sewing job, she’d ask me to thread the needle. “My eyes can’t see it as well as yours; you have good young eyes,” she’d say.

I always did it easily and on the first try. I never had any difficulty doing it, and that’s also why she needed my help. If she did it herself, she said, she’d be sitting there for ten minutes or more just trying to get the tiny thread into the tiny hole. We didn’t have needle threaders at home to help us, so we just had our bare fingers and eyes to do the work.

In the last month or so, Chris has had a couple of holes that have popped up in his pants, and he’d ask me to fix them. So I’d do it, but it suddenly hit me that it wasn’t as fast or easy to thread the needle anymore. Even though I am slightly near-sighted, as in I have trouble seeing long distances, I suddenly realized that seeing this closely was becoming a small challenge. The first time, it took me five tries to thread the needle with my naked eye. The second time today was even worse: I tried at least ten times before I got it through. Part of it was because the thread’s end was ragged and limp, but the other part was that I just couldn’t see the hole properly and align it with the end of the thread. And so after I finished the sewing job, I went digging in my sewing kit and luckily found two needle threaders (which I likely procured from snatching the sewing kits from high end hotels; it’s the little things in life!). I quickly learned how to use them, and I decided that from now on whenever I have to sew, I will just reach for them first and not waste any time. There’s no reason to make anything harder for myself than it needs to be, and I just have to face the fact that while I am getting older, so are my eyes.

Laundry stripping

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Well today, I can say that I honestly feel so productive and like a super adult. Or rather, I feel like a true domestic goddess, as Nigella Lawson once discussed. Why? You would ask. Well, it’s because today, I have finally tried out LAUNDRY STRIPPING.

I had no idea what this was until earlier this year, when I came across a mention of laundry stripping on Instagram. I’d read that TikTok had popularized the idea of laundry stripping, which is a term that is used for filling your bathtub up with really hot water, using a 1:1:2 part solution of borax, washing soda (NOT to be confused with baking soda! It’s more alkaline and far more powerful), and laundry detergent. You mix it all up until everything has dissolved, and then you place bulky items of a similar color, usually towels or bedding, into the water and swish them around about once an hour for about four hours, or until the water fully cools. You wring out all the items, throw them into your wash for a rinse and spin cycle, then dry as usual. The idea behind this is that in your washing machine, your washed items never fully get clean because of laundry buildup, grease/body oils/etc., so this method gives your bedding and towels a true “deep cleanse” and takes all the excess grime out that your machine wasn’t able to do.

So I gathered a large bunch of our white/off white/beige towels as my first attempt at laundry stripping. I made the solution, filled the tub, dumped all the towels in, then swished. I swished a total of five times, then did the whole method of wringing them out and adding them to the rinse/spin cycle. And WOW! Just after five minutes of sitting in the water, you could see how gross the water had become. It was already a deep, murky grey color. And that was just after five minutes! This is all the dirty and nastiness the washing machine couldn’t take out!

I’ll be honest: I did feel a happy sense of cleanliness and accomplishment after seeing this. I just hope that the towels actually look and feel a bit better after all this. See? You can never fully trust your washing machine to *really* get your stuff squeaky clean.

Matrescence: On Pregnancy, Childbirth, and Motherhood

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I recently started reading a book called Matrescence: On Pregnancy, Childbirth, and Motherhood, written by Lucy Jones. The term “matrescence” still doesn’t seem to be recognized by the dictionary in the year 2024, which is quite sad and pathetic considering time has evolved. Matrescence refers to the state of a person becoming a mother and all that this transition entails. I first heard of the term in a news article my friend linked to me, which I think was in NPR, about matrescence and how it doesn’t get nearly as much research, news coverage, or talk as it should. My friend sent this to me as she was sharing with me how much her body and her mind had changed after giving birth. She said it was hard to describe, but the way she thought about things and saw the world was completely different. She expected it to be different after becoming a mother, but she wasn’t prepared for exactly how different her perspective would be in her postpartum state.

A lot happens to a person when they become a mother, both mentally and physically, yet somehow, we’re all expected to just “bounce back” in every sense of the word after giving birth. Children do not give birth to themselves; mothers give birth to them, and that’s a very wild and intense ride, and for some women, can even be traumatic. To this day, the 25 hours I spent in labor from beginning to end was the most intense 25 hours of my entire freaking life; I doubt anything will ever top that – physically, mentally, emotionally. IT WAS BEYOND INTENSE. It is said that it takes somewhere between two to four years for a woman to feel like “herself” again after giving birth. Unfortunately, in the U.S., you’re meant to go back to work the next week, in six weeks, and if you’re “lucky” like me, in the next 16-20 weeks. So who cares if you are “yourself” again!

A lot has resonated with me as I am going through this book, but what I wasn’t expecting was this excerpt near the beginning:

“During pregnancy, cells are exchanged between the mother and fetus in the placenta. When the baby is born, some of those cells remain intact in the mother’s body. For decades. Perhaps forever. The phenomenon is called microchimerism. The exchange creates what the leading geneticist Dr. Diana Bianchi calls “a permanent connection which contributes to the survival of both individuals.

“Cells have been found in subsequent siblings, too. If you have a younger brother or sister, they may have your cells.”

I figured that something would likely be left behind from my baby after giving birth, especially given the role the placenta plays and how that also needs to be birthed out of you, but I didn’t realize that my baby’s cells could stay in me potentially forever. Nor did I ever think that any subsequent siblings would have their older siblings’ cells in them. But that then made me stop and think: Wow. That means that I physically have some of Ed’s cells in me. He actually is a part of me, and in more ways than I had previously thought or known. I always knew that a part of Kaia would be in me, and I’d obviously be in her, but Ed’s in me? But it gave me this sense of joy and warmth, as strange as it sounds. He may no longer be living, but he physically is still living on in me, through cells that I got from him through our mother.

I think it goes without saying that I am definitely enjoying this book.

The baby tooth that could

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I went in for a dental cleaning today and told my dentist that my destabilized baby tooth (thanks, pregnancy) felt even more destabilized in the last few weeks. He took x-rays of the tooth and showed me what it looked like.

“The bone has completely degraded underneath the baby tooth!” he exclaimed while looking at the x-ray through the light. “The baby tooth has nothing to hang onto! It’s really any day now!”

My childhood dentist told me that I’d be lucky if my two baby teeth lasted until age 30. I’m turning 39 in just a few months. The only reason this baby tooth got destabilized is due to pregnancy tooth decay in the neighboring tooth, which resulted in a root canal in 2022 that shook up the baby tooth. All dentists I’ve seen since childhood have told me they’ve been amazed I’ve kept both baby teeth in such good shape for this long; I’m an anomaly. And as each year goes on and the baby teeth stay in tact, I’m even more of a freak (or miracle?) to them.

We decided I’d just wait until the tooth fell out on its own. That day is going to be utterly terrifying and relieving at the same time. I can tell it’s gotten looser in the last few months. I consciously try to avoid eating anything hard on my right side because of it. The day it falls out is also going to be a sad and bloody one, an end of an era. I just hope that when it does finally happen that I’m not in a public place; the last thing I want to do is freak people out by trying to run to the nearest bathroom with blood running down my mouth and chin. And then, at that point, I’ll need to get bone grafted for a potential implant, which will not only require surgery, but also be quite expensive. The dentist told me that I should be reserving next year’s dental allowance from my insurance for this. I’ll need to brace myself.

This is what getting older means: spending more money on annoying health-related procedures. It’s mortality staring me in the face.

Dry oil for skin

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About 12-14 years ago, oils became quite en vogue as part of one’s skincare regimen here in the U.S. Argan oil became extremely popular, as did coconut oil and different forms of olive oil. Endless other oils that are not from food we eat have also become more mainstream, such as jojoba, rosehip, marula, squalane, and seabuckthorn. While I was initially wary of it, especially given that for so long, we were told by endless sources that oils would clog our pores, I ended up embracing oil on my face and really enjoying it. A drop or two can go a long way, and so I oftentimes take a small amount and rub it into my skin before bed before my moisturizer, or I will mix a few drops into my daytime moisturizer when getting ready for the day. As I’ve gotten older, my skin has definitely gotten dryer in some parts, and so I’ve had to find better sources for moisturizing to prevent dryness, especially in the winter time. I don’t really have a loyalty to any one type of face oil now, but I do like trying new things, hence my skincare junkie side that I don’t have many opportunities to discuss with a willing audience.

About a month ago, I was perusing the body/face care section of Trader Joe’s, and I noticed a lemongrass coconut body oil on the shelf. It’s mixed with lemongrass, coconut, almond, jojoba, and olive oils. The description said it would dry quickly, so I thought I would give it a shot. After my morning workout and shower, I rubbed it into my arms, chest, and legs for the first time, and I was actually really surprised at how quickly my skin absorbed the oil. It was so quick to rub in, and once I was about to put clothes on, the oil feeling was not detectable at all. But my skin looked and felt moisturized. And my skin continued to look and feel moisturized the rest of the day; the oil really was locking in the moisture after my shower. The feeling and process of rubbing body oil onto my skin after a shower seemed so much more luxurious (and quick!) than rubbing in regular lotion. I could get used to doing this as part of my morning routine.

I think this is also part of getting older: appreciating all these little experiences that previously seemed gross, excessive, or inconsequential when I was in my 20s, but now are truly like little everyday indulgences. Dry body oil and high quality, scented candles are definitely in this category of little luxuries. And while I do not necessarily love the strong lemongrass smell (as my friend says, “I like to eat lemongrass, not smell like it”), it does fade very quickly, and it also has the added bonus of being a natural mosquito repellent!

The dramatic bursts of aging at ages 44 and 60

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In the last several weeks, the study that cites that human beings age dramatically at 44, then at 60, has been making the rounds. My friend sent me this article a few weeks ago. He’s 46 now, but he told me that he really felt it at age 44 two years ago, right around the time that his now 2-year-old daughter was born. He said he thought that it was just because of being a new dad and having a newborn, which meant worse sleep and higher fatigue, but this study said everything to him.

“Get ready for it,” he’s warned me. He said he’s already been warning his wife, who turns 44 next year, about this change.

But I take his “warning” with a grain of salt since he’s not the healthiest person in both diet or movement. He only had maybe a one-year period (during the pandemic) when he actively worked out (swimming three times a week) and ate more mindfully.

The truth is that none of this news really bothers me. While we are younger and healthy, we can adjust our lifestyles to be more healthy and active. The best thing any of us can do is prevention and health maintenance in the here and now. That means exercising regularly, eating relatively healthy, and trying our best to get adequate sleep. On top of that, it means getting routine health checks, dental cleanings, and all the other riveting “health maintenance” activities we’re supposed to be doing to take care of our bodies. As the Peter Attia Outlive book says, if there’s one thing we can do to increase our longevity, it’s to move and be active; exercise! Even if genetics or luck play a role in all this, exercise can never, ever hurt. I always feel different during the day if I haven’t exercised in the morning. My mind feels less alert, and my body just feels more sluggish without morning exercise.

All of us are aging. There is no doubt about that, and there is no way to prevent that. As the last couple years have gone on, I’ve noticed more expression lines on my face, more sun spots (the bane of my current existence), and less elasticity of my skin overall. I suppose all these are signs of “maturing.” The number of white hairs on my head has also multiplied. I’ve just accepted it as part of life’s progression. I’ve tried to do things like re-apply sunblock more, obsessively put on a hat to cover my face, and seek shade when possible during sunny days. When having my highlights redone, I’ll ask my hair stylist to color my whites. But really, no one wants to stay stuck in time forever. No one wants to be a single age forever. So in the meantime, I’ll do my best to eat more fresh food and whole grains, exercise rigorously and regularly, stretch, sleep adequately, and not worry about what is out of my control.