Dreams of preventing murders and moving murals

In the last few weeks of being ill, I haven’t remembered many of my dreams at all. Part of it is because I’m sure I am dreaming far less just given the simple fact I am sleeping less. I have rarely been able to fall asleep earlier than 2am every night, and that’s despite usually getting into bed by 9:30 or 10. That’s because my coughing and phlegm keep me awake regardless of how tired or how badly I want to sleep. It’s been pretty miserable. Yet despite this, when I wake up at around 6:30 or 7, I actually do not completely feel like crap and actually feel like I had enough rest to get through the day, which is pretty miraculous given the few hours of sleep I got in a single night.

The first dream I remember was when Chris and I were on a motorcycle, racing through some dead streets in the middle of the night. I have no idea what city we were in or why the heck we were even on a motorcycle, but I do know we were going at a very fast pace, and there wasn’t even a single other car or motorist on the road with us. We went into this crazy long, dark tunnel, and in the tunnel, there’s this strange mural of an endless, rainbow-colored dragon. And as you keep moving into the tunnel, the dragon’s tail almost appears to be undulating and moving closer and closer to you. That was kind of fun.

The second dream was a bit more intense. I had received a freak call from who knows who about the fact that my mom was being held captive at a specific location and was going to get killed. Someone tipped me off on where she was and had a gun delivered to me to help shoot the person who was going to kill my mom. And with timing being on my side, this psycho was doing a countdown from ten, after which he was going to shoot my mom in the head. When I found them (and this guy did not see me), I came silently from behind and saw the guy holding my mom tightly with the gun pushed into her ear. And when he got to the number 3, that was when I pulled the trigger and shot the guy right in the back of his head (I have amazing aim in my dreams!!). I pushed his body over, grabbed my mom and carried her out of the building.

Was that realistic? No. But it was a dream, so…. I’m not sure what to make of any of that. Who knows — is my mom making enemies out there now, and that’s why I’m having ridiculous dreams like that?

ENT visit and silent reflux

This morning, I made my way over to the east side once again for my ENT doctor visit. I have only ever had one ENT doctor visit, and that was almost six years ago after I lost my voice during a Hamilton Island/New Zealand trip and got another bad virus that also felt like it was going to kill me. I decided to go back to the same ENT since he already had my history, and I remember enjoying meeting with him. I thought he was quite friendly and smart, so why try someone new?

Somehow, after six years, this doctor still remembered me. He said he remembered my symptoms, voice, and face (how sweet). We talked through what’s been happening in the last six years, and once again, we did the dreaded laryngoscopy: he sprayed my nostrils with numbing spray and got me ready to thread yet another camera down my freaking throat. It lasted about 15 seconds, and somehow, it wasn’t as awful as I remember. After the exam, he told me I still had evidence of silent reflux. It may just be that I had always had it but was asymptomatic, and whatever virus I picked up six years ago just triggered it in me and drove me over the edge. He suggested that I try the following for the next three months (!!): Prilosec at least an hour before dinner; famotidine/Tums or Pepsid Complete before bed, and to elevate my head so that my throat was above my stomach at bed time. Somehow, being diligent this way had cured many of his other patients with the same recurring coughing fits when they had colds. And maybe, he said, I could be one of the lucky ones this works for. He insisted I do this for three months straight and be consistent about it; I had nothing to lose… other than all the money I’d have to spend on freaking Prilosec – NOT a cheap OTC medication!

I may just be more genetically inclined for this. I guess it makes sense: my maternal grandpa did die from choking on his own mucus when my mom was six. My mom gets mucus constantly.

Ughhhhhhhhhhh.

Toddler selectivity heightened – when “soup” isn’t soup

Since Kaia got sick a few weeks ago, she’s been very hit or miss with a lot of the foods I’ve made. Some days, she will eat an adult sized portion of roasted carrots. The next day, she won’t even look at them. I tried making French lentils and serving them plain to her late last week. She ate a lot of them the first day, and ever since, she refuses to eat them. I’m not sure who she learned this from, but she started gathering all the lentils and tucking them into her bib, as though I would not even notice and assume she ate them – a very sneaky baby!

I figured it would make sense to just blend them into a soup. I had made fresh stock just a couple days ago in my Instant Pot and just had to saute some onions, aromatics, vegetables, and spices with it all. She’s always loved soup and has enjoyed the matzo ball soup that Chris has gotten me twice over the last three weeks. So I made the soup and blended all the lentils so that it was just a creamy, smooth bean soup. When I told her she was having soup, her face lit up, and it was clear she was excited… and likely anticipating a clear soup like matzo ball. So when she saw her bowl, she got mad and yelled, “No! No! No!” over and over and waved the bowl away. I didn’t push. I just put my bowl of soup up on her tray and ate my soup, spoon by spoon, in front of her, emphasizing how tasty and yummy it was. Finally, I watched her as she watched me, and I saw that she was getting FOMO. So I tried again: I put a small amount of soup on a spoon and lifted it to her lips, and finally, she opened her mouth and took it. She winced a little, then swallowed, smiled, and exclaimed, “Tasty! More!”

Win win for me. And then she proceeded to eat an entire bowl, insisting that she put the spoon in her mouth herself.

Throwing up spicy pork on a Saturday afternoon

My vomiting episodes since Monday have been pretty unpredictable. To be fair, they are always unpredictable, but since Monday, they have been far less frequent, but far more violent and scary. We didn’t go far at all today since I felt miserable today, so Chris decided to pick up some food from Bang Bang Bar at the Time Warner Center for lunch. We shared the food, and about 1.5 hours later, I found myself kneeling over the toilet, throwing up the spicy Korean pork and rice that he had ordered. It was not pleasant or fun. This vomiting session truly felt like I was dying: the force of the vomit through my throat was really intense, and at times, it felt like I could barely even breathe. All the force of the food coming up pushes on my entire face, and everything is coming out everywhere else: huge tears streaming out of my eyes, and more mucus is bubbling up in my nostrils. I’m hot and sweaty from the force of the vomit, and my body is exhausted from all the coughing and vomiting… because that’s what coughing and vomiting does: it wears on your entire body. And if we really had to be TMI about this, the force of the vomit went the other way, too: I even managed to pee a little in my underwear. Yep. It went there. That never even happened to me ONCE during pregnancy, so that goes to show how strong my pelvic floor has usually been, thanks to all my kegel exercises!

Then, I got a headache and another body ache. And I thought, wow, if this happened more frequently, maybe it would be better just to be dead? Because that’s what it really feels like when this type of coughing fit happens: it feels like your whole body is just giving up and not protecting you anymore.

Radiology SNAFU and contemplations of potential terminal illnesses

I attempted to go to the radiology location close to my apartment yesterday after my pulmonologist appointment, and although chest x-rays are usually drop-in and don’t require an appointment, I apparently came on a bad day. I knew it was a bad day immediately as I entered the facility. There were so many people in the waiting room that all the seats were taken, and at least a dozen people were standing and waiting. Plus, the line for the receptionist had at least half a dozen people there. When I finally got to the desk, they told me that today was an unusual day: they were behind by over an hour, and so I’d have to come back tomorrow. To be safe, I made an appointment for 9am and returned today… to find out that the x-ray machine was down at this location, so I had to go down to Chelsea. They claim they called me twice and I never answered, but I know this was false because a) I never saw any missed call, nor any voice message (hello? isn’t that medical protocol to leave a MESSAGE?), and b) at least seven other people were standing there, yelling at the front desk workers because they said they never received any calls or voice messages. These are people who had commuted out of their way and weren’t anywhere as young or mobile as I was. Plus, from the pamphlets they were holding, they seemed like they had far, far worse, more serious conditions than I had.

Annoyingly, I made an appointment at their Chelsea location and hopped on the train downtown. And as I sat in the waiting room, I noticed the patients around me waiting to get called in for their x-rays. And they were holding pamphlets about everything from breast, lung, to pancreatic cancer. Lung cancer is the most deadly cancer in the U.S. Breast cancer unfortunately is more common than it is not. And pancreatic cancer is known to be one of the most painful cancers in existence. All I could think when I saw all these people around me was: wow. I just felt so terrible to think they were all looking at these x-rays and appointments as another step along their way to a potential death sentence. It must be so terrifying. One patient looks like she came in with the emotional support of both her son and daughter.

And then I had this dark thought: what if the x-ray results came back and they found I had something more serious that was wrong, like a tumor or malignant growth of some sort? How would I handle the news? How would I share that news, if at all, and to whom, and when? How would I even look at my young baby and think that my days could be numbered with her, this tiny little being that I had wanted so badly and waited so long for? It was a bit unsettling, but a real thought, a potential reality. It doesn’t escape me that death could always be knocking on my door at any point in my life. I am not one of those people who is in denial that death is a part of life, and it doesn’t always happen when you think it will, or when you think it will be convenient. I’ve known too many people who have died too young. Ed is just one of them, the closest of them. And my friend Raj is still the biggest mystery for all who loved him, as we still have no idea what took his life just over two years ago. Life is not long for everyone, unfortunately.

Pulmonologist visit, tonsil infection, and the search for a new PCP

Yesterday’s GI doctor suggested I visit a pulmonologist to get my respiratory system checked out given my coughing fits. It may be that something in my windpipe or lungs was causing all my recurrent coughing fits and phlegm build up, so I took her referral and was lucky enough to get an appointment with this doctor on the very same day I called. I called at around noon and sounded so pathetic and sad on the phone that the receptionist took genuine pity on me. She told the doctor how awful I sounded, and despite having a full schedule of patients today before he left for his vacation to the Galapagos Islands tomorrow for the next 1.5 weeks, he told her that he could fit me in at 2:20. So I hauled myself over to the East 60s to his office and waited.

I thought he’d be the kind of doctor I liked before I even came in. I took a quick peek at his Google Reviews before I called the office, and almost all his patients raved about him, saying he had excellent bedside manner, was super friendly and thorough, never rushed you, and was extremely smart and knowledgable even outside of the pulmonary purview. Once he came into my exam room, we spent about 30 minutes together, discussing history, the events that led to today, my symptoms, and chit chatted about work, travel, kids, and life in New York. He told me how he knew and previously worked with my GI doctor, and how he had seen so many crazy things while working in an ICU for many years previously. So he’s clearly knowledgable about a broad range of things despite being focused on the respiratory system now. He did a thorough exam, which included listening to me breathe, a breathing test, examining my mouth and throat. He let me know that I actually did not have hand foot mouth disease — I had a tonsil infection. All those white blobs I could see on my tonsils were pus pockets everywhere, as lovely as that sounds! So he prescribed me a z-pak antibiotic and a nasal spray…. which he suggested I use every day, morning and night, to ward off all the nasty germs my child would continue to introduce me to… until she’s at least age 6-7. He was NOT joking about that. He also gave me a referral to get a chest x-ray done and suggested I do it either today or tomorrow so we could get the results in ASAP. He reassured me that while he’d be out the next 1.5 weeks that the other doctor in his practice would review my results once the x-ray was in and give me next steps.

I really liked this guy. He was just so normal, so smart, and even funny, like the kind of doctor I’d want as my primary care provider. Why can’t HE be my PCP….?

Visit to the GI doctor… yielded nada

This morning, for the very first time, I actually commuted during rush hour. My appointment with the gastroenterologist was for 9am, so I rode the B train for three stops and walked over to the GI office. The subway stations were packed; there were lines to get on and off the stairs in the subway station. I was quickly reminded how much I do NOT miss morning commuting on the train and am grateful for the ability to work from home, even if that means I do far less socializing than I did before.

The highly sought after gastroenterologist that I got a referral to see was quite down to earth and lovely. I generally always know that I will like a doctor when we first meet ,and s/he introduces herself by her full name, as opposed to “Dr. X.” We talked about my previous experience getting sick in Australia/New Zealand, the silent reflux I got diagnosed with that left me with my larynx swollen, red, and awful. She came to the conclusion pretty quickly that this was, fortunately for me, NOT a GI issue, but rather an issue of a cough that gets unwieldy and needs to be controlled, likely with some level of codeine, before it gets hacky with phlegm and vomity. She saw no potential issues with GERD or acid reflux. And so she had two suggestions: go back to my ENT doctor to see what his thoughts were and if he could prescribe something stronger to help my cough from getting too unwieldy (or even give a recommendation for an OTC medication that would control how debilitating the cough gets), and/or see a pulmonologist. Since she’s a GI doctor, she had no recommendations or knowledge of pain killers or cough medications that could be prescribed, but suggested lightly that I lay low, drink lots of hot/warm fluids, and suck on lozenges to keep my throat happier.

She was really kind and personable. I enjoyed meeting with her. I guess as she says, I should be happy that this is NOT a GI issue because if it was, it would likely mean a lot of changes in my lifestyle. I just wish she could have prescribed me SOMETHING to help me.

Yet, after I got home, I realized quickly that I had a weird bump on my lip. I also noticed that my throat was getting quite sore and painful, and after shining a light inside and self examining, I realized part of the back of my throat had turned white. And around the same time, Kaia’s daycare sent a notification to all parents of her classroom that a kid had been diagnosed with hand foot mouth disease.

You have got to be kidding me… Is HAND FOOT MOUTH what I have again, on top of being sick for the last two weeks? WHAT the actual FUCK? How can my luck get any worse than being sick for the last 2+ weeks…?!!!! If anything, this explains my body aches from yesterday!!

Being sick in NYC

Today marks exactly two weeks of being sick. I thought I was on the mend on Friday when I went the entire day without a single coughing fit. But the coughing has still persisted. My inability to speak full sentences in my natural voice is driving me crazy. And yesterday, after dinner and a single sip of Chris’s beer, I ended up vomiting part of dinner and all of that one sip of beer. That was not fun.

I took a walk today during the weekday for the very first time since I got sick two weeks ago, and did a quick trip to Trader Joe’s. I hadn’t been here in about 2.5 weeks, and I had missed it. I realized that some of the things I wanted to pick up were not there, like my usual Ritz-like crackers. But I did pick up a few items that were new for me, like the mushroom umami seasoning and the cocoa batons, to add some variety to our snack rotation, and to the seasonings I use on the Pookster’s lunch vegetables. The fun thing about Trader Joe’s is that they always have new products that are worth testing out. The frustrating part about Trader Joe’s is that sometimes, those fun products get pulled from the shelves quite quickly, so you can’t really ever get too attached to any one thing. Chris asked me to buy these animal crackers that were coated with chocolate on one side today that he remembered buying and liking back in 2016. I told him that I doubted they’d still be in stock. And well, I was right: the only animal crackers on the shelves were the sad, plain ones. He was not pleased.

And now my body is aching again. What is wrong with me, really, and how is it even possible I am still sick after two weeks??? It was amazing I got through an hour long meeting today where I did the majority of the talking — good thing for the mute button!

Pookie’s appetite is coming back

Although Kaia was already getting better by the time she had her doctor’s appointment a week and a half ago, her appetite took a while to come back. She still relied on her “safe,” comfort foods, so mostly carbs and milk, with a little bit of protein here and there. We weren’t sure when she’d start eating her usual voracious amounts again. She just finished her course of antibiotics for her ear infection yesterday, and this past weekend, she already seemed more curious about foods the way she normally is. So this morning for breakfast, she was absolutely ravenous: she ate some stir-fried gai lan, an entire piece of whole wheat toast with peanut butter; a large portion of Peruvian style red beans and rice, two WHOLE pieces of Weetbix, served in 1/2 portions until I knew for sure she wanted more, and finally a handful of blueberries. And she still wanted to keep going! But we had to clean her up and get her ready for school for the day. So I promised her that I’d pack more blueberries for her to eat during morning snack time at school. It looks like she ended up eating almost all of them, along with her Cheerios, once she got there.

Pookie’s appetite is back. It makes me so happy to see my baby eat a lot, and a lot of variety. I think that’s what every parent wants for their growing toddler.

Cooking hacks when you run out of bread crumbs: use flour and frozen cheese

While preparing my mise en place for my chicken tenders today, I realized that I didn’t make enough bread crumbs earlier in the week for these chicken tenders. That was annoying, but then I also realized that I didn’t have enough grated parmesan cheese, anyway, even if I really did have enough bread crumbs to triple the recipe. So instead, I breaded and baked as many chicken tenders as I could with my breadcrumb/herb/parmesan mixture, then created a workaround for my remaining chicken tenders: I coated the rest with egg, then tossed them around a mixture of seasoned flour, spices, and some shredded mozzarella that I had leftover in the freezer. Would these bake up the same as my chicken tenders with a proper breaded coating? No. But given that they were coated in shredded melty cheese and would be baked at the high temperature of 450 F, I figured they’d still turn out tasty.

Well, it looks like they all turned out well – the proper batch of chicken tenders and my hacked version. Chris even though the hacked version came out better and crispier. So maybe my kitchen skills haven’t totally fizzled during my sick time!