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.