Sick

My time in the hospital Sunday/Monday was the happiest I have been in months; the love from family and friends, the attention and the Opana ER. It all started when I left to see my cousin Stan on Saturday. I knew I didn’t have my anti convulsants and knew I was spending the night. I wouldn’t say I was planning a seizure but there was a recipe for one. I didn’t care. I knew I was in a safe place and figured what the hell. Anyways, I knew Stan had pain meds for his MS and figured it would be a solid Saturday night of narcotic activity. I was excited at the thought of an opiate other than oxy fives. It was great to see my aunt Trisha and Stan, and once we caught up on old times, I tried to work oxycodone into the conversation.  Turned out Stan was not holding anything except sobaxone.  I was bored so asked for a line.  I did one but was not feeling it so did another.  Once it did kick in it felt like food poisoning.  I probably slept for about 1 hour and felt even worse in the morning.  And then came the blessing in disguise. After I felt the aura, or simple partial seizure I told Stan not to call the paramedics if I went tonic clonic.  It didn’t take long before I felt the complex partial which went grand mal seconds later. Fast forward 30 minutes:  I remember wondering why everyone was staring at me trying to take me away.  I was in and out of consciousness to the hospital and got my vocabulary back after about 30 minutes. It turned out Stan called the paramedics after all. I went home listening to the story which I always find interesting because I was in such an altered state.  So I got back to their place but it wasn’t long before I had the next, more intense seizure.  I was lying down on Stan’s bed; again because I was still feeling sick from the sobaxone, and felt the classic complex partial rush so I ran to the bathroom to avoid another paramedic squad. I must have collapsed as soon as I closed the door because I do not remember entering the room.

                I woke up starring at a needle in my arm and soon made eye contact with doctors and family as I traced the IV line up the pole. This time I did not come to for about 3 hours and was lethargic from the seizure, the valium and the oxymorphone.  They told me what happened and how Stan busted into the bathroom to get me out and I started to notice the resulting body pains.  The nausea from the sobaxone had not yet subsided and I was told that my white blood cell count had skyrocketed and had a fever.  Then came seizure number 3.  I was later told it was status epelepticus and was consequently rushed to a larger hospital for the superior resources there. I woke up once again with the IV, oxygen tubes with the addition of EEG lines and feeling totally out of it.  It was blissful. I was almost hoping for the worst to prolong my visit and remain the center of attention. I was sick. Everything was a blur; the emotions, the Dilantin, the rattling in my brain from the seizures, the sobaxone nausea and of course the Opana. The doctors wanted to perform a spinal tap to test for meningitis because the white blood cell count was through the roof. I was excited. I’m not sure what came next, the MRI or the lumbar puncture but it didn’t matter. The spinal tap was explained in a manner that led me to believe it was standard procedure; but I didn’t object, I just let them tap away! I was completely out of it. I didn’t know that I was high at the time, but looking back now I can see why I am having these withdrawal-like emotional symptoms. The drug was ER so I did not feel the buzz of oxycodone but a consistent state of wellness. I had nowhere to be so I figured I would see how far this ride of surrender would take me which was nowhere.  There was no fight in me to get out of there.  I wouldn’t say it was rock bottom because it can always get worse but the shame in associating ER visits with bliss was not a high place. 

             You’re probably thinking, “Wow! This guy needs serious therapy!” but that’s not it (well not completely!). I need inspiration from within and I think I have been getting closer to it over the last few days.  When I was living in Arizona and did not see my career in golf management going anywhere I switched gears and went into finance which is an area I never pictured myself 2 years prior. I graduated from a prestigious business school after starting out with nothing. Now I’m in finance with a solid position but my motivation is slowly deteriorating.  I feel like I have already seen all that there is to see in corporate accounting even though I have less than 2 years of experience.  Now all I care about is where to find more pain meds semi-inadvertently leading towards smack-land!   I can’t see myself sitting behind a desk crunching numbers for the rest of my life.  So after my ICU discharge I felt a strange attachment to the hospital. I couldn’t figure it out.  Was it the attention I was receiving? Was it the thrill of a near death occurrence? Was it the drugs?  Or was it the purity of people helping people? All I knew was that I was heading to Maine for the weekend where there would be plenty of oxycodone to suppress my existential sideshow. 

                I returned to Boston on Sunday night in a deep depression.  No more pills and no closer to an answer. I got back and everyone was home.  Both roommates plus a girl that mike have been seeing.  The guys were watching Sunday night football and Sarah was in mikes room studying for the MCATS which might as well have stood for don’t even think about it. I said something like “Sarah must be going out of her mind with all of that studying!” and he just shrugged his shoulders as if to say ya it’s demanding, but it’s not impossible. A huge glowing door opened up when I felt that perspective! I had this high from thinking of actually taking on one of the most intense career paths on the planet.  Medical school has never even crossed my mind. I did horrible in science back in high school and have not looked back since but it’s amazing what perspective will do.  So the question remains: Is med school out of the question. Everything on paper says yes. Everything. Less than stellar undergrad GPA, low MCATS likely, and no undergrad sciences to speak of. Never mind trying to support myself in med school if I made it…  But I did not let that stop me from getting into business school when I transferred up here from Arizona.  I made things happen. I just don’t know if I can make this happen.  It might be too steep a climb. I could take the sciences over the next 2 years and aim at a 4.0 and then pour everything I have into the MCATs… but I don’t think I could handle the distress of failure. I would be another 20,000 in debt and still no guarantee of admittance.

                Reality is now starting to set in. The positive emotional surge has come down because logic has strangled it. I’m lower now than ever. Will I have regrets when I reach my 40s? 50s? I am trying to balance the mere vision of what I perceive to be a fulfilling life with the sobering slap known as reality. I am 99% sure that I would fail to become a doctor at this point in time. But what about in 1 year when I ace organic chemistry? Maybe down to 85% on the failure projections… And year 3 with decent MCATs? Maybe takes it down to 60… then acceptance into grad school… 35%.... attain residency… 15%? Who knows...? But there I go again; trying to overcome logic with the glory of free will. In my dream I am going into neurology to help people. Help kids like me who had no idea what was wrong with them and improve quality of life. Admissions boards would find the application compelling unfortunately that alone does not equate to success in medicine, especially a field as complex as neurology. I saw my neurologist today to discuss surgery.  I decided I am going to pursue it.  Unfortunately he recommends I hold off post-bacc study for a year and let the dust settle. That only motivated me even more. I think I have decided to have surgery and do some pre-med study. I feel so alive right now and will keep you posted on the most difficult decisions I will ever make in my life; brain surgery and med school