Day 543

 In my final household re-org project before 12/31/25, I am purging out a lot of items that no longer serve me.  I’m purging out a drawer of Rx meds I stopped taking & forgot about. Xanax, Wellbutrin, Viibryd, Trintellix, Eliquis. Pretty brutal evidence that the last 6 years have been for me.

The point of sharing this isn’t the fact I freed up some storage space, but to illustrate how difficult the past 6 years have been one challenge after another, & by purging out this medical clutter, hopefully is an indicator of better times are ahead for me.

Granted, I had to discontinue the Trintellix in May as it was possibly causing the pancreatitis I was experiencing. 

Lots of changes for 2026. I am trying to tackle my physical clutter as well as my emotional clutter, and in both regards, it requires me to slow down and keep track of my thoughts, my plans & intentions, my negative inner narrative, and so forth. I am attempting to do with the my emotional stuff the same thing I am doing with physical stuff: “catch and release.” It is harder than you’d think. 

Every day this past week, I stay awake until 2:00 a.m., consistently working organizing and purging the house of expired stuff, donations, trash, recycling. Big expenditures of focus and energy, which leaves me exhausted.

So far, I have managed to chip away at my household clutter every day for 12 days. Most experts say it takes 40 days to entrench a new habit. 28 more days to go! (Just now, I set a reminder for January 27, so I’ll remember to share my progress.

Day 501

So much going on. Too many problems or issues keep cropping up. Seems like forever since I started the process to get the revision on my bypass, but it has only been four months. Was hoping to have it done before xmas, but I guess at this point I’ll be lucky to get it before year end. 

I remind myself it took close to two years for me to jump through all the hoops for my original bypass way back in 2011. I am frustrated and impatient and want to do as much damage control as possible, as I keep gaining weight with no end in sight. 

Day 494 & Medical Tl; Dr

Where to start with this post? Simultaneously on the surface it appears as if nothing is going on and yet a lot is. 

This past year has been an exercise in that Japanese saying “fall down seven times, get up eight.” 

Here it is, November 2025, and I still haven’t managed to get my revision on my gastric bypass. 

November 2024 I started the process with a bariatric group, got as far as a swallow study & blood work only to hit my first obstacle, my PTH was elevated and that needed to be explored. 

Additionally, I was interested in HRT with the same bariatric group as they had someone on staff who specialized in that. Between what I viewed as superficiality of the doc, plus the cost, plus being ghosted, I never scheduled a follow up visit. 

By December 2024 I was experiencing some left side abdominal discomfort, and just cracked it up to the mystery gut pains I have had for the past couple years (7 yrs), which my (now former) gastroenterologist speculated was neurological in nature, possibly a nerve was knicked in 2011 when I had my gastric bypass). 

By February 2025 it resolved. Turns out it was accidental folate overdose. I adjusted my daily regimen. 

March I asked my PCP for Zepbound, which I was on until the beginning of May (7 weeks) when my gut pain became pronounced enough to complain to my PCP. 

In May 2025, I was back at my (now former) gastroenterologist with gut pain complaints. He ordered some labs and my pancreatic enzyme was elevated, so he sent me in for a CT scan w/contrast and an MRI w/contrast. 

To be cautious, I went cold turkey off my Trintellix, and discontinued the Zepbound as both carry with it risks for pancreatitis. 

By mid-July, I had an upper endoscopy & a colonoscopy; the former revealed I had a marginal ulcer at the suture site of my gastric bypass. 

The day after the endoscopy, I had a consultation with yet another bariatric surgeon regarding getting a revision on my gastric bypass to do damage control from the past (almost) 6 years of covid, plus mom dying, plus getting so sick from the initial covid vax, plus menopause. Wow that sentence sums up just a splinter’s worth of the challenges!

Also, with zero special instructions, the gastro put me on time release pantoprazole, and for 3 months has not replied to my messages on the patient portal asking how long will I be on the Rx. Also, curiously, no mention of a follow up appt to see if the ulcer has healed. He didn’t support my desire for the gastric bypass revision & wanted to put me on Rx for fatty liver syndrome instead. 

From July until October, it has been a never ending stream of medical appts. Like a cha-cha, 2 steps forward, 1 step back, in what has felt like a futility fees back loop. 

August brought with it an appt with my (now former) nephrologist, who refused to budge on changing any aspect of the meds he prescribed. My bp was 99/67, I had been struggling with lethargy & gout pain for for 2 years. 

The next day, I saw my new nephrologist for a consultation. He adjusted my diuretic to one that doesn’t contain hctz & cut the dose in half, and soon after, my uric acid numbers were trending closer to where it should be. I cancelled my February appt with my now-former kidney doc & have zero regrets in doing so. 

By mid-August, I moved my annual cardiology, vascular, and hematology appts (normally in October), so that I could get the necessary clearances for surgery. 

Cardiologist wanted to be safe, so he sent me for a nuclear stress test, and of course there was an anomaly, so I then had to go for a cardiac catheterization. Fortunately, it came up fine. No blockage and no sign of heart attack. 

Then the vascular appt. I had my bi-lateral ultrasound of my legs. I mentioned my fatigue and the hypotension and drew his attention to an old renal doppler (20+ years old) which revealed an anomaly with my IVC. To be cautious, a CT scan w/contrast was done to rule out a clot in the IVC & rule out May Thurner syndrome. 

The hematologist came up with a regimen for my anticoagulant Rx for after my surgery. 

The beginning of November I saw a new gastroenterologist for a consultation given I have so many issues with my gut & I was being ghosted by my now-former gastroenterologist. Zero regrets. This doc put me on Rx for my ulcer with specific instructions—so basically the 3 months I was on pantoprazole? I was just flushing that money down the toilet as it wasn’t helping me at all. I follow up in February 2026 to track the ulcer, however, if I manage to have the bypass revision before year end, that procedure will remove the ulcer. 

That all being said, when I saw my PCP last week he provided me the documentation he sent to the bariatric surgeon mid-October (which they claim they haven’t received). I scanned it & emailed it to the surgical coordinator, and with any luck, I will speak to her this week regarding scheduling the surgery & pre-op consultation with the surgeon. 

Note to self: I have gained 40 lbs since January 2020. Of that 40, 20 of those were gained from January 2024 to November 2025. And that scares the shit out of me. 

Endemic Idiocy (6/18/25)

I am just trying to stay alive, and it is wild to see, 5.5 years into this COVID reality, how few doctors are informing themselves about the virus as well as how few are protecting themselves & their patients by refusing to mask in medical settings. 

So, as a consequence of so few doctors masking, anytime I require a medical procedure, I have to weigh the risks vs the benefits in doing so. 

Very long story short, I needed an endoscopy & colonoscopy. I showed up at the endoscopy suite wearing an N95, the RN was not initially masked; however, when they left & returned to the exam room they wore a mask. As did another nurse, and as did the anesthesiologist. 

I asked the RN after the endoscopy was over, please put my mask back on my face.

We all go to the OR, every last one of us masked and waiting on my gastroenterologist to arrive, and when he did, he was unmasked and polluting the OR with his vapors has he yammered on.

“Should I wear a mask?” he asked me, cluelessly a la Mr. Fucking Magoo. I replied, “Considering I will be UNCONSCIOUS WITH MY MOUTH OPEN, yes, please, mask.”

When I woke up in the recovery room, my mask was on my face just as I asked. 

I have been seeing this gastro for 10 years. Ten years ago he was super thorough, and over the past 5.5 years this aspect which I will call “Mr. Magoo,” has become more pronounced. I can only imagine how many patients he sees each day and how many times he is repeatedly exposed to COVID and other viruses, which he then exposes all his patients too—as well as his special needs son at home. 

What most people don’t realize about the word “endemic” is, it doesn’t mean the virus has weakened where we can let our guards down. It just means it will be a persistent threat—and isn’t that contradictory to the Hippocratic Oath, to do no harm, yet by extension of refusing to mask, doctors are in fact, harming their patients?

Day 440 Raging Into The Abyss

When I woke two days ago, my first thoughts before removing my CPAP mask was, “Fuck yiu and your shitty-assed genes!!!” Furious at my dead parents for birthing me, and furious at how for decades they lived in a cloud of delusion about how shitty their health was, oblivious to it until the day they couldn’t ignore it anymore, and yet, they continued to ignore it. 

Then I realized, oh shit, it was my dad’s birthday. And so it recommences the annual ritual of grief, which takes me from his birthday on 9/16 to the date of the surgery which silenced him on 9/26, concluding with 10/24 his date of death 28 days later. 

Before my feet even touched the floor, I was already awash in a mix of emotions, with the most pronounced thoughts percolating to the surface: here it is 17 years later, and though that acute intense loss immediately following his death has been blunted by time, I continue to miss my dad and the silence left behind is still difficult to navigate. 

Here I am, age 57, literally 10 years away from the age he was when he died, and I am going through A LOT of medical appointments & exploration for my issues, and wish he were here for support (which he actually was great at providing), as I have so many questions that have to go unanswered, and can only deduce the answers as I get my own answers from my doctors. 

It is selfish I know, to wish my dad were here to help me, but I also think it is a normal impulse given how close we were. 

Day 439 On Being A Complex Patient

Every day that goes by, I am more and more grateful that I chose to retire early. Not to be bleak but the last year has been a never ending series of challenges to overcome. 

Very disheartened & weary by this year. I want & need a revision on my gastric bypass (from 14 years ago), and there have been a never ending stream of obstacles in my way: what they thought was acute pancreatitis turned out to be an ulcer, an abnormality on my stress test which they thought was an “artifact”/scar or a heart attack which (thankfully) turned out to be nothing; meanwhile my GFR & bun/creat is out of whack & w/my inferior vena cava birth defect/anomaly, I now wait for 2 weeks (!!!) for the CT scan to rule out an IVC blockage or May Thurner Syndrome.

My IVC defect or anomaly was detected 25 years ago during a renal doppler; however, at the time I had no other issues and was never counseled about the significance of the finding. 

Couple that up with my Factor V Leiden Mutation*, and my DVT 2 years ago, plus I exhibit 9 out of 10 symptoms of a possible IVC blockage, that is the next worrisome obstacle to overcome. 

(*22 years ago my niece was born with a clot in a renal artery and nearly died before they discovered she carried the gene for Factor V Leiden Mutation. After the discovery was made, the whole family got tested for it. Once again, as I didn’t have any other major health issues, I neither was counseled about the significance of this finding, nor was I put on anticoagulant or baby aspirin therapy. Here I am, 2 decades later, connecting the dots, and hoping it makes a positive impact to my medical care, as well as have the added ROI of time/money/effort with a reward of a longer life expectancy of both of my parents.)

The earliest I could get in for a CT scan is 9/30/25 & the earliest follow  

The stress test was 8/26/25. Maharajah left for India to visit family & then visit a spiritual study ashram on 8/31/25, and three days into his visit his mom had a stroke (and there’s evidence she’s had others which did not get medical attention). 

Several hours after finding out about amma having a stroke, my cardiologist let me know the results of the stress test, and I had to schedule the cardiac catheterization for after Maharajah returned home on 9/8/25–cath was on 9/10/25. Mind you, the stress test was just a cautionary thing so my cardiologist could provide a clearance letter for my bariatric revision surgery—all my EKGs were normal, and the last stress test I had was 25 years ago. 

Fortunately I have scheduled all my appts related for my bariatric revision surgery and I had an appt already booked with my vascular specialist on 9/15/25. I didn’t even have to get too detailed about my IVC issue & whatever the possible issue might be. He disappeared for a few minutes to go read my chart & the old radiology report with the IVC finding on it, and when he returned to the exam room, he made some speculations & then gave me the order for the CT scan.

The cherry on top? My side quest of exploring whether I can get on HRT or not looks less and less unlikely as each day goes by. My surgical concierge says I’m handling all of this with grace, but I don’t feel graceful—not one bit. Challenged & discouraged barely touches how I feel. TBH, I wonder if this is what dying feels like. 

In addition to shouldering my worries by myself while M was in India, I distracted myself with more Swedish Death Cleaning (organizing, purging items to trash or donate), I had a dinner party with friends on my balcony one Friday, and a luncheon with cousins on one Sunday, and the following week I was overseeing the last remaining big ticket items for my bathroom renovation.  See before & after photos: 

All this left zero time for self care, and I am feeling it mightily today. Monday I resumed my chiropractic appts, and today I resumed my acupuncture appts. After today’s session, I took a nice nap.

I remind myself after my early morning tears that all this does not define me, and these are necessary steps on the path to achieving my goal of getting my gastric bypass revision. I have had to do some mental gymnastics to being resigned to the fact that I will achieve my goal; however, that goal will not be achieved on MY timeline. The process takes however long it will take. 

Oh, and all this is prelude to a greater goal. Next year will be our 25th wedding anniversary & the55th anniversary for my in-laws. Considering the precarious nature of amma’s health & the uncertainty of my own health issues right now, it makes all the challenges & discouragement I am facing right now all the more important and poignant as time waits for none of us. 

Day 315

Wild to think that I am now at say #315 since my last day in the office. 

Six days ago was the anniversary of the cruel annual evaluation, which prompted me to consider an early retirement as it became obvious to me that no matter what my efforts were, I would never get the validation that I sought from my immediate supervisor and bureau chief so 315 days ago was my last day in the office concluding 22 years of service to the state of New York. It was not ideal. I paid a penalty on my pension in order to do so however, every day that goes by, I am convinced it was a solid decision. I walked away with my pension and my medical insurance, but this was not part of the plan I had in mind for my retirement.

 I am experiencing this residual resentment that I was driven to do this in order to escape what became an increasingly more toxic work environment.

So what have I been up to since the last blog post? I have been continuing to chip away at things on my to do list and a big thing or list of things on my to do list is to try to reverse course and reverse whatever damage has occurred within the last five years since the advent of COVID-19, namely, dump the 40 pounds that I gained and trying to improve my mobility.

I started Zepbound seven weeks ago, and this is on top of my antidepressant which was accomplishing the initial goal that I set out which was to no longer sob silently & uncontrollably at my desk at work and since I am no longer at work in a toxic work environment, which was a never-ending trigger for the sobbing, as well as the existential dread residual grief over losing my mom to covid, as well as losing a very dear friend of mine to cancer, the physical and psychological challenges were becoming too much for me to handle  maintaining a job where my efforts were not appreciated, and it became an increasingly unsafe environment for me both physically and psychologically. Psychologically,  it drove me to the point of seeking out a Neuro psychological evaluation in 2022 when I was recovering from a total hip replacement after the evaluation, I got a proper diagnosis of CPTSD. I got myself a nurse practitioner who handled prescribing the antidepressant we went through genetic testing to help identify possible new medications for us to try as I had several failures in the past in regards to medicine and I was on Trintellix for now almost 3 years.

Unbeknownst to me, the Trintellix carries with it a risk for pancreatitis, and since roughly November or December of this past year, I have been experiencing what I figured was just low level discomfort on the left side of my abdomen into the mix.

Seven weeks ago,  I started Zepbound, and things just got even more intense. I sought out my gastroenterologist to quarterback this much like a quarterback to my crisis in 2021,  and he drew blood and my amylase and pancreatic enzymes both are elevated so I discontinued my Trintellix, of which I was on the lowest dose anyway, easy enough for me to do, discontinue that and as I waited for my primary care physician or Gastro to get back to me in regards to the Zepbound, I held off on this week‘s injection thinking surely it’s gotta be playing into the dynamic as well.

Today 5/16/25, I went for an upper abdomen CT scan. I believe the scavenger hunt we are on right now is to rule out pancreatitis I’m convinced that’s what’s going on so hopefully by Monday or Tuesday I will have some kind of information in regards to that and sadly this just proves to me that no matter what medicine is provided to me that will promise me weight loss. There is always a high price to be paid and in this case, I do not foresee myself being able to stay on the zip bound and rather than look at this as yet one more failure, I am looking at this as OK. We crossed this off on our to do list. The insurance probably would not have paid for me to go for a revision on my bypass until or unless we tried other measures, and the Zepbound was other measure so hopefully this brings me one step closer to the possibility of getting a revision on my bypass so that I can get myself back on track and lose the weight that I gained during Covid.

I am continuing with chiropractic and acupuncture as far as pain management in November. I had an epidural on my spine to help regarding the reticulopathy and other issues with my spine and did not offer up much in the way of relief next week. I have a follow up epidural planned with a different approach and hopefully that will bring me one step closer to some kind of relief. Otherwise there’s always going to be a surgical intervention as a possible thing to try after this in the event that the epidural fails all this is  get myself moving and doing the things that I want to do for as long as I’m able.

The guiding force in my life is the question. What would Ann do? and once I ascertain what it is that she would do in a similar situation, m I then decide to do the direct opposite and continue to advocate for myself. 

The last thing I want to do is be a burden on my husband and live in isolated life like she did handicapped and imprisoned in the body that she just allowed to go off the rails, expecting and demanding that others take care of her, in spite of the fact that she did the bare minimum as a mother. 

The 5 year anniversary of her death was 12 days ago, and I wish I could say that my grief journey has turned a corner; however, it hasn’t. Covid19 is still here, mutating & contagious as ever. Maybe once we get some sterilizing vaccines my grief might improve, at least to take me out of this heightened vigilant state I have been in since the shut down in 2020. Covid was a huge trigger for my C-PTSD. 

That being said, my simmering rage continues, rage towards mom directly for the long list of creative ways she undermined me and abused me (and my siblings), and indirectly for the status of Covid19, and here we are five years later and not much has been done—so similar to AIDS in the 1980s. Most people have moved o & want to get back to life and their super spreaders and their bottomless mimosa brunches and shrug their shoulders at the 1 Million+ US Americans that died due to Covid—assuming they think of the dead at all. 

Day 274

 Doc finally got the pre-auth for Zepbound, & I got the insurance & discount card all sorted out, and my first jab was four days ago. Hoping to avoid a revision on the bypass and hoping to dump the 40 lbs weight gain due to the pandemic + menopause. 

After a change of scenery for a couple days, I have an appt to try Maya Abdominal Massage. I hope it will revitalize my libido, help with digestion, and maybe help release the anxiety I feel trapped in my belly. 

Follow up appt with primary care doc on 5/7, and hoping some improvements will be made. 

Day 255

Plenty going on and yet not enough is going on fast enough for my own personal timeline. 

I was considering a revision on my bypass & try to find a doc to prescribe HRT; however a new weirdness popped up and needed to be addressed first.

Then there’s the issue of my gouty arthritis which went unaddressed for years. Now on Rx for that & hoping for a side benefit of some weight loss from that Rx before agreeing to go on a Rx for weight loss before seeking the bypass revision. 

Additionally bp was so low, I hardly had any energy to do anything more than the barest of minimum to get through my day. I was so fatigued, my napping habits would rival a geriatric house cat. 

Progress all in due time. Hoping by June I’ll feel better. 

Day 181

181 days into retirement and my “splendid” is ebbing away and feelings of anger & resentment are bubbling to the surface. Angry and resentful that retiring early was the only option for me to change my paradigm. 

Had my newest boss not come on in 2018, I more than likely would have continued to work for another 6 years to reach full retirement age. 

Resentful that in order for me to leave/retire & still maintain my medical insurance, I had to do so by taking a 24% hit on my retirement—24% in perpetuity.

Resentful that I had to walk away from the only “community” I have known for 22 years—the closest thing I had to an extended family, especially the last 4 years since mom’s death dissolved most of my immediate family connections. 

Mom’s death was the final, physical and emotional abandonment. 

Maharajah left for India on 12/24 and returns on 1/8, leaving me alone during the holidays, a time I normally am very blue; however this year I feel it even more, as I no longer have the day-to-day social interactions and distraction that my job once provided. 

While M is away, I have continued with my Swedish Death Cleaning, and feeling even more morbid as I do so. I am trying to be ruthless with some of the things I am parting with—and disassociating while I do so. I am almost feeling like I am someone else going through the possessions of someone who has already passed. In a way, I am experiencing my own mortality almost on a molecule by molecule basis. 

It is the new year, and I am filled with dread for the next four years—and hoping it is just four years. I am joyless and always worried for M’s safety. The world just seems to keep getting more and more unstable and violent. 

Hope is a dangerous thing. The disappointment is crushing. He is 8,000+ miles away right now, and I have a knot in my gut. I wonder how many rebirths did I have to endure until I finally found him nearly 25 years ago. I am greedy. I want more time with him. I want him back home with me. We are such a tiny family, he and I. Without him by my side, I am profoundly alone. The thought of its preciousness nearly cripples me. 

I never thought when I met him nearly 25 years ago and subsequently fell in love that every new beginning has its own conclusion. Falling in love is the start of eventual suffering, loss and grief. 

He is with his family & being well taken care of by them. And yet I still worry, and I miss him intensely. Counting down the moments until he is back home. 

Day 179

Struggling to hold onto “splendid.”

It has been challenging to advocate for myself & get the care I need. 

Last month I had a consultation with a new bariatric surgeon with the interest in a revision on my bypass. While there, I noticed an associate there specializes in age management medicine, and I scheduled a consult with him regarding hrt.

Well over a month later I am no closer to the goal of either the bypass revision or actually getting hrt; however, the blood tests the doctors ordered showed crazy high testosterone & cortisol, and I decided to finally get a consult with an endocrinologist to tend to any underlying issues that are contributing to my rage, depression, anxiety, and sleep issues. 

Today started off with a trip to the lab for a dexamethasone suppression test which the endocrinologist ordered to rule out Cushings. Later in the day I had my first appt with a new gyno. 

Very glad I changed doctors. I felt seen, heard, validated. In both cases neither were able to provide me hrt, but the endo is thorough and will address everything else, and the gyno gave me the name of a colleague at NYU that might be able to help me. 

Maharajah is in India visiting family & attending an ashram. So in the interim, I am emptying all our closets and purging out and organizing what I can. I am making progress but it is slow. 

At the moment I am no where close to getting the bathroom project done. It is a real struggle trying to find a general contractor interested in working on my project. I have enough things in the house that need doing—I could keep someone busy for a while. Whatever. It’ll get done eventually. 

Struggling to regulate my moods and sleep. And feeling even more isolated since M is away. And I feel like everyone is out there experiencing life and I am just too busy surviving.