Author: dloboss

I had an interesting Lyft ride this morning to my dentist appointment. Immediately, after entering the vehicle, the driver mentions that he just dropped off his daughter at school and then asks me what I do for a living. I tell him, and then he explains that he was a doctor in India, but is unable to practice until he completes the requirements here in the United States, along with the education and residency. We continued with small talk, and then the conversation got a little more in-depth as he mentioned his wife, and then he said that he was cheating on her. I am thinking to myself, why is he telling me this?

So I just listened to him explain the backstory on why he is cheating, and I guess his justification. I needed to get to my destination, so I am withholding my opinions on the subject. He would often look up in the rearview mirror at me as if he was waiting for a response, and I would nod my head and just ask him a follow-up question. My hope was to just keep him talking until we got to my destination. He was explaining how his wife is a good person and he would not leave her because he loves her, and they have their daughter, and he did not want to break up their family. He stated that his wife has been withdrawn and has almost given up on herself and being intimate with him. I then found myself asking him if he thought that maybe his wife knew about his affair. He immediately said no. Without any hesitation, I said she knows.

We were getting pretty close to my dentist’s office, so I began saying that she probably has her suspicions, which could be the reason why she is being withdrawn and not feeling satisfied with her life and their marriage. I told him that he is not communicating his feelings with her, and is also being withdrawn from her. So what does he expect? Until they both sit down and have some real, honest communication, this problem is not going to get resolved, and it will only get worse. That is not fair to either of them or their daughter.

The last thing I said as we pulled up to my drop-off point was asking him how his beliefs as a Sikh fall in line with how he is living his life and the choices he is making. I said for me, as a born-again Christian, my goal is to live according to God’s word. The Bible is my guide on how to live my life. I asked him if it was safe to say that his Sikh religion and beliefs should dictate how he lives his life and the choices he makes. The last thing I stated was that I was not familiar with his religion’s beliefs, but that he must ask himself if how he is living this double life and cheating on his wife is right in his religion’s eyes.

He looked at me and said no, it does not match up. He then said thank you for the counseling session. As I was exiting the vehicle, I asked him again how to pronounce his name, and he said just call me Harry Potter. I said God bless you, Harry Potter.

In the aftermath of my parents’ passing over the last 3 years, I have been gradually coming across different writings of my mom that she would write on random pieces of paper, spiral notebooks, and papers in her Bible she used as bookmarks. Some writings contain scriptures, her prayers, notes from Church sermons, and from preachers she would watch on TV.

My dad did the same thing, but he kept very organized composition books that also contained notes from Church sermons, preachers he followed on TV, Bible studies that interested him, a composition book that was devoted to prayers, and also Bible scriptures associated with any life topic you could think of. My parents did not complete their education, but they got their GEDs later in life. I was proud of them because they did not let that stop them. Dad was so organized and detailed when it came to his writings and his studies, mom would always say he could have been a professor.

It was recently, within the last couple of weeks, that I felt prompted to share some of these writings. I am currently working on how I am going to incorporate them into my blog. The journey these past three years has been and continues to be therapeutic for me. I am excited to share these precious writings. I look forward to continuing to bring honor to my parents.

This was dad’s place to sit and rest after working in the yard or in his storage shed, we called the cuartito. Mom would sit there too with him, and they would eat something sweet and drink their coffee. They would sometimes just sit and look out, not even talking. I often wondered what they were looking at. It wasn’t the most spectacular view, just of the neighbor’s rooftop, trees, birds, and the sky. The chairs had been empty, so I figured I should sit there too, in hopes of catching a glimpse of what they were fascinated with. Maybe it was the calmness and the beauty of nature. They loved birds, so I’m sure they were entertained by their singing and the communication they had amongst themselves.

Dad would often sit by himself and stare out into the yard, almost like he was studying the layout and planning his next big project. His mission often involved him moving his rocks or bricks from one part of the yard to another, spending time in his storage shed moving things from one spot to another, or doing yard work. Then, before heading inside, he would go back to his chair and look out.  Almost like he was checking out his finished project or planning his next.

Maybe I will sit in the chair and admire the calmness and beauty of nature. I can contemplate my life choices, find answers to my pending questions, and decide what projects I want to create and be a part of. Just like dad, studying the layout to see what my next move is.

Awareness saves life.

This information was shared by an Adrenal Insufficiency Facebook support group that I am a member of. I wanted to share this because I have Secondary Adrenal Insufficiency. I do not think I can put an amount on how many instances I have experienced an adrenal crisis. I truly believe I have lost count, but maybe between fifteen and twenty over the last eighteen years. I was diagnosed with Secondary Adrenal Insufficiency in December 2007, and managing this disease has been one of the toughest battles I have ever fought and will continue to fight because this is for life.

In some instances, I can feel my cortisol levels going low, which will lead to an adrenal crisis, and I can take the appropriate action of taking an extra dosage of my steroid medication, or in some more serious use cases, I need to use my emergency kit with a vial of steroids to inject myself or have someone else inject me. If it is too late (which has happened to me more times than not), then it is up to Emergency Personnel to inject me and transport me to the hospital. I cannot explain how I feel when I feel these come on. It is almost like I can feel the life draining out of me, almost like in slow motion. I do not feel scared; it is almost like I am paralyzed, and my body just fades into the moment. I get so weak that all my body wants to do is go to sleep. The important key is once I am unconscious, is have my emergency steroid injected immediately because at this point, time is of the essence. Withholding a steroid injection during a crisis may result in organ damage, may cause seizures, or a coma. If left untreated, an adrenal crisis will result in death.

I share this not for pity or for you to feel sorry for me. I share this because without my faith in my Lord Jesus Christ, I would not be alive today. I am not going to sit here and say that I have not questioned God and screamed, yelled, and cursed at Him, asking him why, and among other things, what the hell now. I have turned my back on Him numerous times, but He has yet to fail me despite my many faults and imperfections, and the times of me throwing my hands up and walking away.

Deuteronomy 31:6 (NKJV) “Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.”

The following post is from April 2016. One of the first blogs that I had done.

It was 9 years ago when I was diagnosed with a Craniopharyngioma, which is a type of brain tumor derived from the pituitary gland. Craniopharyngiomas occur in the sellar region (the part that holds the pituitary gland) of the brain, near the pituitary gland. They often involve the third ventricle of the brain, optic nerve, and pituitary gland. At the time, I was healthy and worked out at the local gym regularly. I had been at my current job at the Sheriff’s Office for a year and had just purchased a brand new 2007 Toyota truck. Life was good. Then all of a sudden, from one day to the next, I started feeling ill and was experiencing low energy, horrible migraine headaches (that I had never had before), weakness, etc. I went to my Primary Physician, and he ran some tests and didn’t find anything. He then referred me to a Neurologist, and after a series of tests, they discovered that I had a brain tumor. I remember feeling like I was in a dream as the Neurologist was telling me this and showing me the tumor on his computer screen. I didn’t quite comprehend the severity of the situation. To hear the Neurologist explain it, it was routine surgery, and it was going to be short and sweet. The recovery process would be quick since I was young, and I would be back to work in no time. I met with the Neurosurgeon and he explained the procedure more in depth that they were going to make an incision at the top of my gum line and go through my nasal cavity with a probe to basically drain and suck out the tumor like a vacuum. A month later, the time comes for the surgery, and the severity of the situation is kicking in. I’m obviously scared shitless, but I need to get this over with so I can move on with my life. I was expected to be in the hospital for maybe 4 to 5 days.

I remember waking up from my surgery, and there was a bunch of gauze underneath my nose and a bunch of liquid coming out. I felt as if I had a runny nose that just won’t stop. Come to find out, I had a spinal fluid leak in the middle of surgery, so they had to halt the surgery and deal with that issue. So now, I’m leaking from my spine, and the freaking tumor is still inside my brain! Mark had to call my family in Texas to give them the update and let them know that the surgery did not go quite as planned. My parents ended up flying out to Colorado (this was their first time flying ever, and they were in their 70s) to be with Mark and I. Mark told me after the fact that he had a conversation with my parents in the hospital cafeteria. My dad asked Mark if I had a living will or if he knew what my wishes were if anything should happen to me. In the years I’ve known Mark, he’s never been one to show emotion and cry. Except for this time, while he was telling me about this.  He said that he told my dad that we did not need to think about that because I was going to be fine.  He said he just walked away from my dad because he could not face him.

The Surgeon’s next plan of action was to insert a lumbar drain at the bottom of my spine to re-route the leak in the meantime, so they could determine what they were doing to do next. I had to sit and sleep upright so the liquid could drain out properly into an IV bag. They left that in over the weekend to see if that would help. Well, of course it didn’t. The Surgeon then explains that he has no choice but to make an incision from ear to ear along my hairline and cut part of my skull out so he can go in and not only fix the spinal fluid leak but also remove the tumor. Lucky me, it’s time for surgery #2!

I remember the morning of my second surgery like it was yesterday. That is one memory that has never left me to this day. The hospital had a transport team of nurses that would take you to wherever you needed to go throughout the hospital. They would either take you in a wheelchair or transport you in your bed. This particular morning, the transport team was too busy to come get me, so between my nurse and me, we were the transport team. I’m connected to all kinds of machines and a little monitor that looked like an old, small TV. I’m thinking to myself, how are we going to do this? I’m holding the monitor on my lap, and pushing my own IVs and she is pushing the other machines I’m connected to, and me in the wheelchair. I had to get an MRI first so the surgeon could map out a route to the leak and tumor. I remember getting off the elevator, and the MRI room had an orange tint to it, like it had orange colored light bulbs. One of my favorite nurses walked up, and he saw that I was crying and nervous, so he attempted to console me. Then I saw a nurse coming towards me with clippers in her hand because they were going to have to shave part of my head. I remember freaking out and immediately yelling profanities. Next thing you know, they are putting something in my IV, and I’m out. Good thing because I’m sure I was about to put up a fight with the nurse coming at me with the clippers.

Good news. The spinal fluid leak was fixed, and the tumor was removed successfully! Bad news. I do not remember too much after this surgery, but I do remember not being able to see clearly. The light bothered my eyes, and my vision was filled with shadows and blurry. The Surgeon explained to me that the tumor was further down than they expected, and he had to move my optic nerves out of the way to get to the tumor. He stated that he was surprised that I wasn’t completely blind because that is what he was expecting. I lost my peripheral vision in both eyes, half of my central vision. My field of vision is along the bridge of my nose.  Let’s just say walking around can be challenging. I get in such a hurry (since I’m a slave to the bus schedule) that I honestly forget that I am not seeing everything and everyone in my path. In my world, I’m seeing only what is in front of me. There’s a whole big world out there that I am not seeing, and unfortunately, it always feels like it is constantly sneaking up on me.

So much for being in the hospital for only four to five days. I was in the hospital for nearly a month, and spent Christmas in the hospital. I remember on several occasions when I was alone in my room in the ICU, a dark figure or shadow would appear in the chair nearby my bed. I really cannot explain it, but it was a dark shadow in a long trench coat with the collar up and a Fedora hat. It reminded me of the original movie, The Invisible Man. It just sat there like it was waiting for something to happen. To me, it was Death waiting to take me with him. I don’t remember being scared. I do remember looking at him and telling him to leave me alone because I was not going anywhere. I knew I was going to be okay, and I was going to be walking out of that hospital.

Before I left the hospital, I remember meeting with another Physician who explained he was going to be my Endocrinologist. I was like who, and what is that? An Endocrinologist is a physician who specializes in the Endocrine system. When they removed the tumor, not only were my optic nerves damaged, but also my Pituitary Gland. As a result, I was diagnosed with Panhypopituitarism, Hypothyroidism, and Secondary Adrenal Insufficiency. Call me naive, but I thought once they removed the tumor, I was going to be back to my normal self. So now, not only am I partially blind, but I will be dependent on steroids to keep me alive and other medications for the rest of my life. I cannot even begin to process this or understand what the hell is going on. My only choice was to suck it up and strap in my seat belt because I was about to get on the ride of my life.

Here is the continuation from my previous post, Starting Over Pt 1.

It’s funny that after I did my first post, Starting Over Pt 1, I received a surprise phone call a couple of days later. It was him. My heart stopped, and my jaw fell to the ground. I was quiet and didn’t know what to say. He asked me if I had the title to his truck, and I told him, for whatever reason, instead of shredding it, I had a feeling I needed to save it. He told me he would text me his address and asked me to mail it to him. He then asked me how I was. I kept my response short but made it clear that I was doing better than ever. I was working with a personal trainer, my health was great, I sold my truck, and redecorated the apartment. I asked him how he was. He was never one to like talking on the phone, so his response was even shorter than mine. He said he was “plugging along”. He said thank you for mailing the title and I said you’re welcome, and goodbye. I had to make a point to tell him that I redecorated the apartment. It sounds silly, but it has been part of my therapy. This is my sanctuary, solace, serenity, my peace. The day he left, I took the bus to Tuesday Morning and bought throw pillows for the couch, bed pillows, and little decorative items to put throughout the apartment. I need to back up and tell you that he hated any extra pillows. That was the first thing on my list of things to buy. After I had picked out my items, I realized how I’m going to carry these things. I’m taking the bus home! Luckily, a good friend of mine came and picked me up. This was the first day of my therapy, and there was still more to come. Over the course of the following months, I also purchased a bedroom comforter set that had 2 pillow shams and 4 decorative pillows. You can never have too many pillows! It’s funny how little things can really change up a room.  I’ve found many of my purchases at the thrift store and clearance items at local stores,
One interesting thing that I noticed after he left was the sound of trucks. He had a pickup truck that I could always hear coming down the road a mile away. When he drove away that morning, the sound of his truck just consumed me. It overwhelmed me. Every time I heard a truck that sounded like his, I would freeze. Part of me would think it was him coming back. I hated to feel that way, but that was just the first thought that crossed my mind. I had to make a point to keep myself busy with work, going to the gym, reading, anything to keep my mind from falling apart. I would be at work and find myself crying, and then I would wipe the tears and put my game face back on. I would really break down when I was home alone. I didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for me and think I was weak. I guess I saw myself as weak. It was tough, but the busier I kept myself, the better. I made the decision that I was going to step out of my comfort zone and try new things. A friend of mine sent me a coupon for a food delivery service that sends you meals with all the ingredients and preparation instructions for each one. You can select meals for 2 people, 4 people, or I think even larger families. It was fun to experiment with different ingredients and spices that I had never cooked before.
I also started taking pictures of nature during my walks to work or when I would go walking during my lunch breaks. I was never interested in photography, but all of a sudden, I found myself printing my photos and framing them. I’ve decorated my fireplace mantle with a few of my scenic photos. Again, another part of my therapy.
In the past 2 months, I started a new steroid, Hydrocortisone. With all steroids, one of the many long-term effects is muscle weakness. With this steroid, I felt it immediately when I was walking. My legs and feet would hurt and cramp up. It would hurt so bad it could literally stop me in my tracks. Now, since my only means of transportation is taking the bus and walking everywhere I need to go, this was a daily problem. One day, I got the idea that I wanted to find a personal trainer to help me with weight training, so I could try to combat muscle weakness. For the past 2 months, I’ve been seeing a personal trainer, Tony, at a local gym who has been helping me.  I’ve always been intimidated by weights. When I have been to the local rec center, I’ve always been too scared to go into the weight room because I have no idea what or how to work out with weights. Working with Tony has been a whole new experience and has opened up a love for weights.  I’m being challenged physically and mentally. Having Adrenal Insufficiency, I need to be careful not to overdo it physically because it could also hurt me if I put too much stress on my body. On these days when I feel that I’ve pushed myself too much, I need to take extra steroids to compensate for this. I’m steroid dependent, so I have my normal daily dosage that I take which is 35mg, and I need to keep it under this amount to avoid the muscle pain, swelling, and weight gain. If I exceed that amount due to being ill or if I need to stress dose, my dosage can go up or even double my daily dosage. If I were to become ill, my Physician could advise that I double my daily dosage, or in an emergency, I would need 100mg of Hydrocortisone injected immediately, then go to the hospital. I always keep my emergency kit on hand just in case. Taking the extra steroids on those days when I feel like I have overdone it helps me feel better, but at the same time, hurts me because I feel the side effects more. I have a love-hate relationship with steroids, but they keep me alive. I’m determined to not allow this disease to overtake my life like it has for the past 8 years. I know that exercising overall has helped me feel better both physically and mentally. I’m pushing myself in ways that I’ve never imagined, and I’m loving it!
This journey so far has shown me that I can live without him. He was my drug. I craved his love, attention, and his body. He was my world, and to suddenly lose that part of me was unthinkable. Even though deep down I knew I would be okay, a part of me still needed some convincing. It’s taken some time, but I’m finally getting to that point where I know in my heart that this had to happen for me to discover myself again. I had lost myself in this relationship because my only focus was to please him and for him to be happy. I know he loved me. He was good to me and took care of me, and I will always be grateful and love him for that.
But now, it’s all about me!

This was my first blog post from April 2016. I had posted this on another blog site, and I basically wrote it on the fly. I had always wanted to share my writings, but never had the courage until after this event that took place.

It’s scary to feel like your life is starting over at 45. At least for me, it is. I have gotten so used to the routine of my life-my 14-year relationship, my job, my friends, my disease of Secondary Adrenal Insufficiency. Now, the disease part was a wrench thrown into my life eight years ago, but that is for another post. The cause of this sudden change is that my 14-year relationship ended six months ago. You can say it was abrupt and came out of the blue, but I have to be honest that I had a gut feeling a couple of months prior that something was wrong and it was serious. I saw him change in front of my eyes in just a matter of months. It was as if a switch went off, and he was a different person. I tried to talk to him to find out what was wrong, but even he was not ready to face it or admit it to me. It took two months for him to finally have the courage to voice that he was unhappy and that he was leaving me. I guess since I did have somewhat of a heads-up, I had to accept it. I did not fight it, scream, or beg and plead for him to stay. I told him that I hope that he finds himself and the happiness that he is searching for. He did say that he was surprised that I was taking it as well as I was. Of course, I was crying and heartbroken in front of him, but that was the last time he saw me that vulnerable.

He never gave me any explanation for what caused him to make this decision. He never told me where he was going. He just said he was leaving, and that was it. I never once asked him where he was moving to or what his plans were. I figured if he does not want to tell me, I am not going to ask. It is probably best that I do not know. It took him two weeks to officially leave after he confronted me, and it was one of the darkest periods of my life. I was living with a roommate, not my lover, friend, or confidant. A complete stranger. He had disconnected himself from me emotionally and physically. He was not the man I fell in love with. He was cold and distant. I believe he did this to make it easier for him to leave. The morning he left, it was like saying goodbye to an acquaintance. He did manage to put his arms around my shoulders like a half-ass stiff hug. All I said was have a nice trip and he said thank you. Those were the last words we spoke to each other.

Communication is vital in any relationship. It plays a vital role in the relationship between you and your physicians. Eighteen years ago, I was informed that I had a brain tumor. From that point on, I learned that I had to take charge of my own health and not be afraid to speak up and ask questions to the team of physicians that I was under the care of. Through the years, of course, the physicians have come and gone, but finally, over the last couple of years, I feel like the current set of physicians that I have is working out for me.

A few months back, I was referred to a Rheumatologist, and I was impressed with how attentive and thorough their office is. He had recently prescribed me a new medication, and I noticed how immediately the side effects began to interfere with my daily tasks and ability to focus. I made the decision to stop taking the medication. Time went by, and I honestly forgot to inform his office until weeks later, when my Neurologist suggested that I try another new medication. So, I informed the Rheumatologist’s office that I was no longer taking the medication that he had originally prescribed, and in addition informed them that the Neurologist had started me on a new medication, and I provided the name and dosage information.

A couple of days went by, and I received a call from the Rheumatologist’s Nurse Practitioner, concerned about the new medication I was taking. She kept stating the name of it, and I was not recognizing it, and I kept telling her that the name she was referring to was not the same as the one on the bottle. Finally, after I again spelled out the medication name on the bottle, she realized that we were not talking about the same medication. It was determined that the individual from their office who took down my initial message had written down the incorrect medication name. The one they wrote was a medication that is stronger and used to treat Rheumatoid Arthritis. The doctor did not understand why my Neurologist would prescribe that for me since I was not diagnosed with that. That raised a red flag for them, so that was the reason for their call to inform me of their concern and that they were going to be contacting the Neurologist for clarification.

At the beginning of the call, I could feel my heart sink because I was being told that I was taking medication that could possibly cause harm to me. I found myself replaying the conversation I had with the Neurologist, trying to figure out if I had missed something during my visit with her. Before the end of the call, the Nurse Practitioner stated, disregard that medication you are taking, it is safe after all. I was left picking myself off the floor, trying to process the conversation we just had.

I will continue to be proactive when it comes to my health and will make sure that, whether I am communicating with the physicians or their office staff, or sending a message through the patient portal, what is relayed is clear and understood by all parties involved.

We all make mistakes, and we are only human.

I am not sure if I ever searched for a new beginning because once I get comfortable, it is hard for me to accept change. I think I was more open to new beginnings when it came to the jobs I have held. My parents instilled in me to not jump from job to job and to learn as much as I could about every aspect of the position I held, as well as the other positions within the company. In this way, the supervisors could see how hard a worker I was, how adaptable, and how valuable an employee I was. As I started early in my work experiences, I tested this, and it worked to my benefit, and I have carried this mindset throughout my life.

I was always in tune when it came to knowing when each job had run its course, and I had learned everything I could, and it was time for a new challenge.  In other aspects of my life, it has not always been so clear for me. There have been many instances where I would go back and forth or procrastinate on decisions that I knew I had to make. There were also times when I was in denial about what I needed to do. Then circumstances would arise that would force me to decide, or in some cases, the decision was made for me. When, honestly, deep down, I already knew the answer but was too stubborn, scared to commit, or I doubted myself.

Recently, I found myself in a position where I decided to resign from my job to pursue another employment opportunity. This other opportunity did not play out as anticipated, and I was faced with the decision to quit the new job after only a week. I was feeling guilty because this decision was going against my own rules when it came to not quitting, and I was also feeling like a failure.

One thing I did know was that going back to my previous job was not an option. I had been delaying that decision, and I knew deep down it was the right thing to do, but now I was left without a job. Allow me to clarify, I was not totally unemployed because thankfully, I have had another side job that is less than part-time hours and working from home, providing some income, just not enough to sustain me. So here is anxiety creeping in, and I’m wondering now what and how I can fix this.

Fast forward to the events that transpired next. I was given a blessing beyond what I could have imagined. As a result, I had a little room to breathe and reset. What happened next was a fulfillment of a dream that I had had over the last couple of years. I would constantly look at the interior walls of my house and wonder what they would look like if they were painted a different color and if the brown paneling that has been up there since I was a child were removed. I could only dream and wonder because it was not an option until now.

I am in the midst of this project, and I have stepped right into a new beginning.