|Marble[wo]man Blog September 2 - November 17,
Friday, September 2,
For the past two weeks, my concern, the obsession for the latter
part of August, has been the consuming of enough dietary fiber--a
discomforting, but welcomed distraction from thinking about the
upcoming surgery to remove the glands that are producing high
levels of cortisol in my body. Coping through constipation, to
some extent, is a relief, is better than escaping reality through
a blog that is supposed to be autobiographical verbatim, which
raises the question, am I actually constipated? I cannot, as of
yet to anyone online, provide distended proof! How do I? I
would like to maintain my credibility!
Anyhow, this digestive system has blocked my creative flow, putting
me behind schedule in posting to the blog. I have been feeding
on fibrous foods (grains, vegetables, and pulses) while attempting
to cut back on the carbohydrates. The underlying duress, due to
the pending surgery, is preoccupying my subconscious attention,
disrupting my focus in "subverting the system."
In my endeavor to add more dietary fiber into my meals (bran flakes,
corn, butter beans), I was able to research and develop a recipe
that I find delicious. [NOTE: seek out a nutritionist.]
Green Cabbage Leaf [spine removed]
-- boiled (filtered water with sea salt)
Salami [sliced wafer thin]
-- pan-fried (olive oil)
-- goat cheese (dollop)
-- twirled stacks
-- strands as borders*
-- braised (olive oil and filtered water)
-- oregano sprinkles
-- lemon juice drips
White Onion [wilted slivers]
-- sauteed (butter and filtered water)
-- tomato sauce (balsamic vinegar)
A Successful Dilemma: A Cut-Out of Alacrity
When I signed the consent form (June 2011) to have the endoscopic
transsphenoidal adenectomy (pituitary surgery through the nose),
there was a clause stating that my sense of taste might alter
for a unspecified period of time. Three months later, I am into
my second week of recuperating from a laparoscopic adrenalectomy
(surgical incisions located in the abdominal area). I needed to
have this surgery because the partially removed pituitary gland
continued to be "active" in triggering my adrenal glands to produce
toxic levels of cortisol. The consequence from the surgeries on
my eating habits, thus far, is that I have a decreased appetite.
I am eating, however, not as enthusiastically as I had months
I noticed the change in my sense of taste when I was on the post-andrenalectomy
liquid diet, which consisted of broth, fruit-flavored gelatine,
pudding, cranberry juice, iced tea, and water. The hospital cafeteria
broth was the most alarming when contrasted to my memorable broth,
made from fresh chicken stock. My broth should taste better
than the water boiled with instant (powder) version. However,
the other meal items tasted just as "funny." NOTE: the adrenal
surgery was at the same hospital as I had in June for the pituitary.
The menu's meal combination had not changed, nor had the vendor
of these menu items, provisions that were well within their expiration
date. The taste comparison was not the difference between two
recipes, but the change in the evaluator's conclusion (due to
his altered faculties): my memory of singular item(s) prepared
no differently than before.
I did not fuss over the taste matter for fear that the issue
might rouse a pedigreed reaction as opposed to a symptomatic classification.
If either fear (or both) were provocative, I did not want to delay.
I wanted to move bravely onward to solid food as quickly as possible
without a hint of this incident. After all, the adenectomy and
andrenalectomy were not about the purpose of heightening my ability
to fathom seasoning "irregularities." (Follow-up to follow.)
My first solid meal was spinach quiche accompanied by a sausage
patty. The breakfast was over-spiced; I did not take a second
bite. Fortunately, the biscuit with margarine was bland enough.
The decaffeinated tea (lemon) was swigalicious. For lunch,
baked turkey sliced with gravy was accompanied by cheese and macaroni.
Dinner was a fish fillet with paprika, roasted potatoes in addition.
The turkey and fish overpowered my palette. The cheese and macaroni
(likewise for the potatoes) was less sickening to the stomach.
My stomach was distended, not in contentment, but in need of relief.
The stitches scarring my plumped belly were not a laughable gaseous
distraction. A suppository did not make me sit and contemplate,
nor did relaxation in the form of a pill soften my faecial
expression or assist in the dispense of my airs.
At home ad nauseam for nought! Gladly, I am progressing since
being discharged from the hospital. The depletion of hormonal
toxins has yet to triumph my taste sense(s); the loss of appetite
has yet to tuck into my tummy demure delights. I do find myself
with a fully portioned plate, but not heaping. I find myself chewing,
chewing more slowly--now in smaller bites. Adjusting for vagary
Monday, Octuber 17,
Recuperation: the Recovery of a Keen Being
With the follow-ups that followed, I had several doctor appointments:
the otorhinolaryngologist (the logician for the endoscopic adenectomy
surgery), my primary care physician, the adrenalectomy surgeon,
and my endocrinologist. Prior to the scheduled appointments, on
two separate occasions, I was in contact with the physician on-call
to find out what I should do about the abdominal discomfort I
was suffering. After each physician went over the symptom "causes
for emergency" checklist, I was advised to wait to hear back from
someone from the adrenalectomy team and from the endocrinologist--and
try to wait until the scheduled appointment. I did receive word
to pickup a prescription for my stomach, and that I should have
some blood work done for the surgeon and endocrinologist to review
prior to seeing them.
The appointment with the otorhinolaryngologist was fine; I was
healed from the adenectomy--no residual complications. The appointment
with my primary care physician was fine as well; he provided me
with some advice in health management. The appointment with my
adrenalectomy surgeon proved to me that I am not a hypochondriac.
After reviewing the lab results and consulting with my endocrinologist,
the surgeon had me admitted to the hospital for additional testing
and an x-ray of my stomach, which would conclusively determine
whether or not my abdominal problems were a complication from
the surgery (i.e. infection) or from the regimen of medicines
prescribed to replace the hormones once produced by the adrenal
glands and to counterbalance the effects (diabetes, osteoporosis,
high blood pressure) caused by the toxic levels of cortisol (Cushings
After a few days in the hospital, the physicians concluded that
my body was in cortisol withdrawal and was adjusting to the prescribed
medications. Relieved that there were no complications from the
surgery, I could focus on recuperation, recovery, and remaining
loyal to my endocrinologist's recommendations--she, who reminded
me that my brain was/is still "swimming in cortisol," which is
being reduced gradually and needs to be closely monitored until
the disease abates and hormone levels are normalized. Understood,
however, my appetite had not increased, nor had my fulsome taste
perception become less sapid.
Perniciousness aside, when I was admitted to the hospital, as
I had before, I was asked if I had any religious beliefs that
would become a factor regarding my medical treatment options.
I claimed that I did not have any doctrine-based concerns. However,
since having my adrenal glands removed, the effects on my physiological
systems makes this layperson ponder
this profundity affecting my psyche--a
hypothesis: a glandular soul in conjunction with an ethical
one? The futility taxing my natural brain, calling upon a non-existent
gland to automate my immune system, now "naturalized," reminding
me to take action or else my health would progressively deteriorate
automatically. My will is exhausted.
This depression would pass within time, I was informed during
my preoperative consult with the surgeon, who indirectly encouraged
me to "keep the faith." In respite, I had been able to contrive
two recipes. An espresso has invigorated my ability to contemplate
the renewal of my vitality.
Thursday, November 17,
RECALIBRATE: Quelling Agitation (Digestive Disrupt)
Dreadful to get out of bed (off the couch) in the morning--or
should I say, full of dread when I get out of bed this (every)
morning since.... A sluggish stress across my chest--too heavy.
I have a normal blood sugar level and a moderate blood pressure--adequate
sleep--yet the solar and coronary plexuses are perplexing, aching
my stomach and heart, breaking my sentences of thought.
Should I have returned to feed upon an old
chum, a culinary
musing, who remains swimmingly delicious, who for some reason
turned from pleasantly peptic to atrociously septic, tanking what
used to be my flash face, to flush. Now my chum
is an estranged mate, a reflux/reflex that I find repulsive while
I sleep through the night--a disruptive gurgle as I sleep through
the night, and an acidic awakening--cramped in bed. How do I savor
the sated moments we had together.
A fret and afraid, I phoned the doctor who was on call, who recommended
that I cease my frenzied relationship with my toothsome friend--the
shark who was a convivial contact, who was a gnashing flame: chum-luscious
lava flowing through my gorge. I was encouraged to heed, to at
least find a hum-drum recipe, frothy with placidity--although
possibly a venture mercurial in nature, hopefully, now and then,
a comfortable bid goodnight.
Nubilous Innocuous To Be Prepared
Tomato (thickly sliced)