Part 4

I awoke on the 29th in a pretty good mood and feeling much calmer than I had been the last several days, despite the fact I woke up at a pretty early hour. I decided to order myself some breakfast, and killed time waiting for it by messing around on my cell phone some more. After eating, I was paid another visit by one of the neurosurgery team. I had been told the previous night that, as long as there were no major issues, I'd be discharged, and, up to the time they had come in, I had not noticed any with the exception of the pain at the incision site. Though the nurse had told me as much yesterday, hearing one of the neurosurgical team telling me that pain around the incision is normal the first few days after surgery and that it will go away in the next few days was a comfort to me. I told the doctor that spoke to me that I had no other concerns at that time. With that having been said, another nurse came by to remove my IV. I asked if I still needed to be monitored as far as going to the bathroom, and I was told no. Since I was alert, coherent and stable, there was no need. With that said, I left my room to do exactly that.

I then returned to my room. When I sat down, out of instinct I reached up and touched part of where the incision on my head was. I had noticed it felt a little wet. That made me a bit uneasy, because, unlike with my stomach, I didn't think my head showing problems was something I should ignore. I called my nurse back to my room and had her look at it. She said when she looked, she didn't see anything that looked wet. I took that at the time to mean maybe I just hadn't fully dried my hands off when I came out of the bathroom or something, so the wetness was just water still on my fingers, and I let it go. She didn't seem concerned, and, up to now, the staff had been pretty well on top of things, so I didn't think she'd lie to me and say there was no problem if there really was.

After having watched some more toons on my cell, I ordered my lunch then informed Henry I was officially being discharged. He said he'd leave sometime around noon. It was going to be roughly a two hour drive to get from the house to where I was in Seattle, assuming things went well on the road. I made another trip to the bathroom, and, when I left that time, I had been asked to do a couple quick tests to gauge my balance and how well I could walk. Something they have to do with all patients apparently right before they get their discharge papers. I 'passed with flying colors' so I went to my room and my discharge papers were gathered.

When the nurse came back, she went over everything with me. Letting me know I'd need to make appointments with my physician (back in Shelton) both in a week to look things over and then again a week after that to have the sutures removed. She also went over the various different meds I was being given to take home with me. The most interesting thing though, came in something I spotted as I was re-reading the papers after she initially read them to me and had asked me if I had any questions.

Among what was written in all of the info that I was given was talk about how my shunt would need to be adjusted if I was around any kind of large magnet (such as that of an MRI). This is something I never recall seeing in any previous info packets with past shunts. As it turned out, the reason for this sudden bit of info I had never seen is that I don't have a regular shunt inside me. With every shunt I've ever had in my entire 36 years of life, it has always been a normal shunt. There are two types of shunts, that I know of. A normal VP shunt, which uses a hard plastic tubing and valves and programmable VP shunt, which is more precise apparently, but uses magnets, and the valves can be adjusted to different levels to compensate for problems that normal shunts can't without surgery.

This is not to say that my doctors in the past are in the wrong for not opting to use a programmable shunt with me in the past. I can only guess that my past neurosurgeons didn't see a need for anything more than a regular shunt. There are risks involved. Since the programmable one uses magnets, I now have to be very careful to tell any doctors that request things like MRIs about it ahead of time. That way my shunt can be set back to it's default level. In my particular case, though I have no idea what the number actually means, that level is 1.5. Now that I've got a programmable shunt in my head, if I'm not on top of things when it comes to places that rely on magnets, I could make things extremely bad and even dangerous for myself now.

There are, however, a few positives to this programmable shunt as well. From what I understand, if I feel my condition beginning to slip, meaning if I start developing frequent migraines again, all I would need to do now is visit any place that has a neurology department and they can adjust the threshold level on the valve to fix the problem. I wouldn't need to resort to getting surgery right away anymore. Adjusting the threshold will relieve the pressure, which, as I understand it, will fox the issue without me needing to visit the OR again.

I didn't think to ask the normal lifespan of the programmable shunts, but, from the impression I got from the doctors, it's much longer than a normal shunt, so, barring a catastrophic incident, I might not need surgery again for a very long time. I may need to go in to have my level adjusted, but that apparently doesn't require any kind of surgery at all.

So, after hearing that, I have to admit I was feeling really happy and the nurse was happy for me too. She even joked that hopefully it meant that when I finally left the hospital, I wouldn't see her again for a very long time. So, with my papers signed, she left the room. I then climbed back into my bed. It was literally only just now though that I noticed a problem that almost immediately took the smile back off my face. When I got back in bed, I caught sight of the pillow my head had been resting on. The pillow had a huge discolored spot right around the area where the part of my head with the incision on it had been resting. Out of instinct, I reached up and touched my head again, much like I had done earlier in the day. Since, this time, I knew wet fingers weren't my problem, when she came back I showed her the pillow. She wasted no time and left again to check with my neurosurgeon. He came back himself and told me something that, in hindsight, was something I already knew, but, my anxiety being what it is, I didn't really think about it. Much like the pain near the incision on my belly, a little bit of seepage is expected after having just gone through surgery. He assured me I had nothing to worry about, and that it would close up within a few days.

So with what was now the last of my major worries alleviated, all that was left to do was wait for Henry to arrive, then he'd pick me up, I'd go home and this whole thing would finally be behind me...

Sadly, the universe wasn't ready to stop messing with me yet. 2:30 came and went, well beyond even the cushion time Henry gave himself to account for possible traffic issues. Because he was driving though, he couldn't answer his phone, so I could do nothing but wait for him. 3:00 still no sign of him. By 3:30 my anxiety had begun acting up. I was starting to worry something bad had happened. My nurse happened to come in a few minutes later wanting to run another set of vitals on me, so when she saw I was getting upset, she asked if I wanted it. I said yes, but I said I felt bad saying so, as I had technically already been discharged.

It was then she made a point of reminding me of something. I was still wearing the hospital band that had my patient info and data on it. She said the hospital doesn't remove them, even after discharge, due to circumstances much like that exact moment. Sometimes, even after discharge, patients might still need help until their ride home arrive. And since the anti-anxiety meds I had been getting up to now were pills anyway, it didn't matter that I didn't have an IV anymore. I thanked her and she quickly went to get what I needed.

Around 4, I got a message form Steve, who, by the way, has been in New York visiting family, which is why this entire series of journals only mentions Henry. Henry had texted him to tell him that he'd apparently gotten lost trying to find the hospital. Apparently, Seattle is huge, and since we'd never been there before, that made things difficult even with directions. I was told this and told that Steve was helping him to get to me. It took about another 45 minutes, but he finally arrived. I was given a change of clothes, then, after heading to the discharge pharmacy to pick up the new meds I'd bee prescribed, we were finally on our way home.

Three hours later, we had made it, and I can't tell you how happy I was. This whole thing put me through more anxiety in roughly two weeks than I've been through all year. I'm just glad it's over. I have to make a couple appointments with my primary care physician, but other than that, there's nothing left I have to worry about with this mess of a journey I was put through.

That being said, there were a few other things I didn't mention in the other journals as to not break the flow when I was writing that made certain parts of the experience annoying.

One of which was trying to get the Toredol (after having been told my surgery was delayed the first time). When I was initially told by the neurosurgical team that I wasn't having the surgery that day, I requested the Toredol. They did approve me to get it, and they left to set that up. But five minutes later, one of the nurses came in telling me I couldn't get the Toredol because I was supposed to have surgery that day. I found this annoying and called the nurse out on it, because, one, she wasn't even my regular nurse, she was one of the in between nurses, two, she apparently hadn't been told my surgery was cancelled for the day, and three, the fact that the neurosurgical team didn't communicate that they had already confirmed the Toredol and that they were in fact going to set it up not even five minutes prior with said nurse. I mean, really? I get that you can't watch the whole hospital, but you could have at least told the department directly so they could have informed the in between nurse.

Then there was the fact that, because they were just curtained off sections and not rooms meant and no time during my entire time did I ever get any actual 'quiet time'. Mind you, this wasn't a huge issue even despite that, because, for the most part, a majority of the patients were pretty quiet anyway. But there were a couple patients that I swear either had bad short-term memory loss, dementia or just loved hearing the sound of their own voice. There was one particular patient, during my second to last day, who, almost every fifteen minutes would call out for the nurse. Not with the nurse call button, I mean verbally raise their voice and call out loudly to get attention, then he would ask for either pain meds or arthritis meds. I don't know whether the guy legit couldn't remember he'd taken them just minutes before, or if he was trying to abuse the meds or what. I will say, I ASSUME it's just a bad memory, because neither his calling out nor his requests/subsequent refusal were ever met with any hostility on his part. He was always level headed, just loud and asking on a frequent basis.

Another annoyance, though this is an incredibly minor one given I had other ways around it, was the fact that, with it being a ward area, I didn't have a TV. If I felt the urge to watch something, I just pulled up Disney+ on my cell, which meant I could not only watch something, I could choose what I watched and didn't have to deal with commercials.

You might think that I'd say one of the annoyances was the fact my surgery was delayed, but no. I told Henry this and I stand by it. Yes, I was upset. Yes, I had an anxiety attack. But I wasn't angry or annoyed. The one thing that kept me from getting angry over it was the fact that at least I had been warned the night before of the possibility it could be delayed. If I had woken up, the day of the surgery, and I got told my surgery was being pushed back WITHOUT having been warned that there was a chance of it happening, or I woke up being told "Oh you're going to have the surgery for sure today' and then suddenly got told I wasn't, THEN I'd have been annoyed. Heck, I'd have been pissed at that point, but the fact things were communicated to me regarding the possibility meant something to me, even though I was left an anxious mess after the fact.

The one major annoyance the fact there was only one bathroom I ever saw in the ward. Considering the ward had like 30 or 40 beds in it, I had to wonder how the hospital didn't have to clean up after constant 'accidents' caused by people being forced to wait. Now, admittedly, as I said back in one of the earlier journals, I can't say for certain there was in fact only one. I just know that, at least for the half of the ward I saw when I walked up and down it during my trips to and from my bed, I only ever saw the one. Considering this was the neurosurgery ward though, and I did take note of the fact there were a lot of older people there, it might also just be that many of the other patients were restricted to their beds/restricted to only using urinals. It just baffled me that, with all the beds in that ward, during the course of my stay, I only had to wait to use the bathroom three times. Yes, I counted. Even then, one of those I did so voluntarily because an older woman in a walker needed it, and I told her I wasn't going to ask her to wait when I could hold it - A gesture both she and the nurse that was helping her appreciated.

Despite the fact the journey was full of anxious moments, when those are taken out of the equation, I can honestly say I left the experience 99% satisfied. Between the staff's treatment of me in Mason Clinic and their no-nonsense right-to-the-point resolution of my initial issues, and the fact that not once at any point was I ever looked down upon or talked down to during the stay in Harborview, not even after having had my 'dumb' moment in my room after the surgery, I actually felt, for the first time IN YEARS like I was being treated the way hospitals and their staff are SUPPOSED TO treat their patients. Unlike the god-awful University of Michigan hospital, who talked down to me, ignored most of what I said and dismissed almost all of my concerns, I actually would WILLINGLY return to be treated to the hospitals here. Yeah, I'll probably still be an anxiety-driven mess, but at least I'll know I'm in good hands. I do hope, though, that I won't have to go through this again for a long time.

So, there you have it. The end of my hospital journey. I'm free of my migraines, and within a few weeks, I should be completely pain-free for the first time in a long while.

Part 3

I woke up on the morning of the 28th extremely early. I wasn't really sure why, because I didn't really sleep all that well. Nothing I did could put my back to sleep though, so I just resorted to games on my phone again, since I didn't think any of my friends would be up at the time. I got interrupted by the nurse for my morning meds, then got interrupted shortly after by another member of the neurosurgery team. I was told the surgery was going to happen in the afternoon. I thanked him, but I confess I wasn't 100% sure what to expect, since I was there on the 'by-case basis'. I focused on my games for a little longer, but decided to put my cell aside and just lay down after a while. At one point, I did drift off, but it wasn't for too long. Thankfully, though, it was long enough that I felt alert and a bit more coherent, so I went back to playing on my phone and idly chatting with whatever friends and family I could reach at the time.

It was a little after noon when my nurse showed up, and I was informed that the pre-op team was on their way to my room. Finally. Things were moving forward... Or so I thought. Despite being told this, pre-op didn't actually arrive until 2:30. As you can probably guess by now, I was a ball of nerves, having begun thinking something was wrong. I was relieved to actually hear someone saying 'we're here to take you for your surgery'. As much as I've been dreading the whole situation, to finally know that things were finally going to get some resolution I was happy, even amongst my anxiousness. Saying goodbye to the friends and family I was talking to at the time, I let them wheel me out to the pre-op room.

I was asked a bunch of different questions, and asked several of my own regarding what the plan was. They were going to go in and remove the old shunt on the right side of my head as well as the tubing that was there that was obviously no longer useful. I'd have an incision in my belly as well, where the tubing would be fed through and connected to where in needed to be, A couple times they drew on certain spots so the neurosurgeon could get a good idea of where he'd need to make the incisions and whatnot.

Around 45 minutes or so of all this going on and I was eventually wheeled out of the pre-op area and toward the OR. It was at this time I was asked to leave Gideon in the room, but I told the nurse that I could not comply, as he was the only thing that was keeping me from going into a full-blown panic attack. I went so far as to call him my emotional-support buddy. To my surprise, the nurse IMMEDIATELY told me it was absolutely fine to take him into the OR with me, and that she wouldn't take him from me. Relieved, I was wheeled into the OR, hugging Gideon against me, trying my best to stay as calm as I could.

Cue the usual anesthesia-induced 'I don't know what happened next' speech.

When I awoke, I found myself in the room I'd been in before I had been wheeled into the OR, and the same nurse that I had last seen was there as well. Now, I don't know how long I'd been unconscious exactly, but when I woke up I was surprisingly pretty coherent. I had done it. I'd gotten through the surgery, and everything was fine. One of the first things I noticed was that someone had dressed Gideon up in a hospital cap, gown, mask and hospital shoes. Now, I have to admit, I found the gesture VERY touching and sweet, but I removed them a short time after. I wasn't upset in any way shape or form that they'd done it, but it was more that I wanted to hold Gideon, and since the hospital itself had been a source of anxiety for me through this entire ordeal, I didn't want the memory linked to Gideon. The nurse said she understood, but I did ask her to thank whoever it was that had done it.

After that, a couple phone calls were made. One to Henry, and one to my birth mom, whom I'd been keeping advised of everything that had been going on. Both were pleased to hear I was okay and that the surgery was a success. Even though I had talked to them both just before I left for pre-op, it was a relief to hear their voices again too.

Now, the next event I want to talk about could have been in part discussed during a couple other points in the past journals, however, I felt it best to just talk about the entire subject here in this one, since this is where the most humorous part of said event happened, though things don't start off all that funny.

When I was in Mason Hospital, I had to get an IV put in my arm. For me, IV's can be somewhat of a tricky situation. I can't have IVs put in the back of my hand, because they trigger severe panic attacks. I also can't have them put in the fold of my arm (my elbow area), because, with the fact I move around a lot in my sleep and constantly readjust my arms, anyone that puts them there just end up forced to put in a new IV the following day because the IV doesn't stay in. Another issue I have is the problem that, more often than not, doctors can never find good veins in my left arm for good blood draws/IVs. My left arm also tends to not read my blood pressure as accurately as my right arm. With all this in mind, I was very lucky that the nurse that did my IV managed to find a spot in the middle of the back of my forearm that she could use. I was pretty happy because it meant the IV was in a place that would not hinder my normal sleeping position or habits. The IV lasted me a couple days, but when it reached the day the surgery was supposed to occur the first time, I noticed the IV site felt like it was burning a bit, and it also felt like it was swollen. I wasn't sure if I was imagining the swelling or not, but the burning sensation bothered me enough that I had a nurse come and check on it. When she came, I asked her if she thought my arm looked swollen. She said that, yes, it did. The IV had come undone so the IV fluid was getting under my skin, causing both the swelling and the burning. That meant, unfortunately, she had to pull it out. I was not happy.

Were it not for the IV fluid getting under my skin and making it swell, she could have at least used that arm again, but, sadly, because of what happened, she had no choice but to use my left arm. I informed her of the same things I had informed the nurse in Mason Clinic of, telling her she was likely going to have trouble finding a vein in my left arm. It took some searching, but by an odd stroke of dumb luck, there was a vein in my left arm in almost the same exact spot that the first nurse had found in my right arm. She had to get a smaller needle, and a different nurse ended up being the one to actually do it, but it was in, and my day was able to continue.

I asked if it would be possible for me to take a shower later on in the day, since I wasn't having surgery and felt I was beginning to smell unpleasant. I was told I could, but that I'd need to wait until much later in the night to do so. This is because, in the neurosurgery ward, there is only one bathroom (or at least only one in the immediate vicinity/only one that has a shower) so I'd need to wait until a majority of the patients were asleep. Since I was wide awake anyway, I agreed and just kept myself busy. I got my shower as planned, which involve having my arm getting wrapped up so the IV wouldn't sustain any damage. Unfortunately, it seemed luck was not on my side today, as, for the second time, the I discovered the IV had come out of the vein. Thankfully no swelling this time, since I wasn't connected to any IV fluids, but nevertheless, it looked like I'd need to get poked again. The nurse didn't seem to think it was necessary and had me come sit down back in the bed. She took my arm and very slowly started trying to work the IV back into place. Once she was done, she tested it by flushing the IV and, surprisingly, she appeared to have salvaged it. She cleaned up the extra trash nearby then and left the room... Only to have to return five minutes later because now, much like with the first IV, this one was now burning. She came back and tested it again and confirmed that this time it had actually come dislodged from the vein and was now no longer usable. She now had to take it out and start a new one.

I reminded her of the places I could not take IVs and told her that I would take literally anywhere else if she could avoid those spots. It took her some time, but she found another good vein, again on my left arm, a few inches above my elbow. Basically, the IV would be up against the the back of my arm, pretty much out of sight unless I turned it. That spot worked surprisingly well. Not only did it avoid my problem spots, but no other part of me would even come in contact with the IV with it there unless I made a conscious and deliberate effort to mess with it. This IV remained until it finally got pulled out the day I was discharged.

Now I'll get into why I explained all of that. With those IV issues, I made it a point to inform anyone that needed to give me an IV any place that I could not handle getting one. This also was told to the anesthesiologist prior to my surgery. Because i was told that, even if I already have an IV in, there are times where a second IV is sometimes needed anyway, so I went through the whole spiel again. He took note of what I told him and he told me I wouldn't need to worry and that, if an IV was needed, he would avoid the spots I asked him to avoid. So, the surgery happened, as I said, and I talked to Henry and my mom. After that, I turned my attention to the nurse and I asked her:

"I noticed I still only have the one IV. Did he not need a second one after all?"

"Oh, he did."

"Oh! Did he take it out when he finished then?"

"No, you still have it."

"I do? Where is it?"

"In your foot."

I swear to god, this is the truth. I didn't even realize there was an IV there until the moment she told me that. Throughout talking with her when I first got back, talking with Henry and talking with my mom, not once did I ever even realize I had a second IV, let alone realize it was in my foot. The moment she told me, and I lifted the blanket and saw it, I remember having this dumbstruck look on my face. It was almost as if the IV didn't exist until after she told me it was there. Once she had, I was aware of it pretty much constantly until it was taken out a short time later, since it was no longer needed. This is the first time I ever call an incident where I'd had an IV in me that I wasn't even aware I had.

Anyway, with that bit of weirdness out of the way, I was taken to recovery for a little while, then I was taken to my room. For more than a week, I dealt with daily migraines, and to finally be rid of them again was a strange feeling. Happy, yes, but strange. I was sadly, not completely pain-free however. While I was not having migraines anymore, with the incision site on my belly came the unfortunate severe unpleasantness of a stinging pain if i coughed, hiccuped, sneezed, cleared my throat or tried to move too fast. This is something that I have to suffer through whenever I have one of these surgeries and it hurts like hell, but at least the pain slowly fades as each day passes.

Because of this pain though, I needed some meds for it almost immediately after being settled in my room again. Though I was given the same meds as before, Tramadol, the effectiveness wasn't as good with this particular pain, and this led to me also needing to ask for some anti-anxiety meds because, after a bad coughing fit, I went into a major anxiety attack. Several hours later, once I was much calmer, I did something that I feel both silly and stupid for at the same time.

As I had mentioned above, I was coherent pretty quickly after my surgery. Well, at one point later that day, I needed to go to the bathroom. Not even thinking about the fact I had literally just gotten out of surgery only a few hours prior to that, out of instinct I did what I had done pretty much every time I needed the bathroom before that point. I put my socks and mask on, grabbed my IV pole and headed out of my little area toward the hall to the bathroom. You read correctly. Fresh out of surgery, I was walking to the bathroom without assistance. I had been about a third of the way there when a nurse saw me.

"You're not supposed to be walking on your own right now."

"I was doing it before."

"You just had surgery though. Someone needs to walk with you to make sure you don't fall."

"Oh! Right!"

She walked me back to my bed at that point and got me a urinal to use, as I had not yet been given one. What's weird though, was even the nurse that had spotted me had to admit she noticed I wasn't wobbly on my feet at all, nor did I sound even the slightest bit incoherent. I was 100% alert and aware. She wasn't mad or even upset. I laughed a bit, commenting about having done it just out of instinct, and saying that I did it because I literally hadn't even thought about the fact I'd just come out of surgery only hours before that. I had my dinner later that evening before falling back into the previous pattern of gaming and chatting before taking my meds and falling asleep.

Part 5

Part 2

I woke up almost at the same time as my arrival at Harborview Medical Center in Seattle, Washington. More scans were performed shortly after my arrival, then I was told the doctors needed to get in contact with my previous doctors to get access to my past CT scans, so they would have some idea as to what a 'normal' scan looked like for me. Because I was still somewhat drowsy at the time, I had some difficulty coming up with the hospital names, but eventually, they got what info they needed, and, just like the doctors in Shelton, they could quickly see there was definitely a need for a surgery.

Very soon after, a shunt tap was performed. Basically they try to draw out some of the fluid to try and clear out a little of what might be causing a blockage or excess pressure in the tubes of the shunt. Unfortunately, this was unsuccessful, as they were unable to get anything out at all. This further confirmed the need for surgery. I was, after that point, transferred to the neurosurgery ward. The ward was made of what I'd say was at least 30 or so curtained off 'rooms'. Mine was 20. After being given my regular nightly meds, I was told that I was permitted to order dinner. I was told a short time later that my surgery was likely going to be the following morning, but that I was added in on a 'by case' basis, which meant that the only reason it wouldn't be is if a more severe or life-threatening case came in. They said they didn't anticipate it happening, but it was a possibility. I told them I understood, and, after that, I played around on my cell, chatted with several others to update them, then watched some cartoons, via Disney+ on my cell before eventually falling asleep.

Woke up early the morning of the 27th. Played around on my cell phone for a bit and got my morning meds. I was eventually visited by one of the members of the neurosurgery team, who told me that my surgery was scheduled for noon. They were finishing up with someone, but I was next in line. I kept myself busy, chatting and playing games, until it got close to the time I was told to expect the surgery. By this point, I was getting concerned, because I hadn't even seen the pre-op team yet, so I called my nurse, and I was also developing a small migraine. She said she wasn't sure what the problem was, but said she would look into things for me. I asked if I could get some Toradol for the migraine, but was told I couldn't, because it would interfere with things for the coming surgery, though I was given some Tramadol which took the edge off at least. A short time later, Doctor Bonoh, my Neurosurgeon, arrived, and informed me that, sadly, two major life-threatening cases came in. Because of their condition, my surgery needed to be pushed back to the following day.

He cleared me to eat since I wasn't having he surgery, so I ordered some food, with the same restriction as the previous night. No food or drink after midnight. I had a massive anxiety attack shortly after he left. The anxiety attack had come from not only the surgery being stalled, but also the fact that I was stuck there in the hospital with no one around for physical comfort. I was given meds to calm me down again. Later in the night, my migraine returned, but this one was far more severe than the one I'd had in the morning. Thankfully, since my surgery now wasn't going to happen until the following day, due to what happened, I was permitted to have the Toradol, though it took half an hour of suffering through the migraine before it eventually got to me. Much like with every other time I've taken it, it knocked out the migraine and put me to sleep. I woke up a couple hours later and ordered dinner, but ended up falling right back to sleep for the rest of the night after I ate and had my nighttime meds.

Part 4

Part 1

After taking a shower, getting dressed, and grabbing my Gideon plush for comfort, we left the house around 2:30 AM. When we arrived, I told the staff what was going on and headed to the waiting room area. The ER was completely empty when I got in, and that led to me being seen pretty quickly, but it also meant I had to be separated from Henry, which triggered my anxiety rather quickly. There was nothing I could do about it however and reluctantly headed back, gripping Gideon tightly.

I was seen shortly after and, surprisingly, I was IMMEDIATELY and directly asked "what is your go-to medication for migraines like this?". I have to admit, this stunned me for a moment, because I was not expecting to be asked what it was I thought would help. He wasted no time and went right to asking how he could help, rather than beating around the bush. I was extremely pleased though, because, as it happened, I already knew EXACTLY what would solve the migraine for me, and it would work quickly, in addition to making me drowsy. Toradol. Whenever I've been forced to head to the ER, that's always what I ask for because it has NEVER failed to take the pain away. He said he was more than willing to go get some for me. I asked him if I could get something for anxiety as well, and, on a hunch, specifically asked him if he would schedule a CT scan, because I believed the repeated migraines I was having were a result of a possible shunt failure. Again, no nonsense. He went right to doing exactly what I asked. I was given anti-anxiety medication and had a CT scan done a short time after.

Some time later, though, my anxiety started acting up again, so I asked if there was any way that Henry would be allowed to come back to console me. Being alone was beginning to scare me. The nurse went to ask, but, sadly, I was told no. I was, however, given the okay for ME to go back to HIM in the waiting room area until after they checked the CT scan. Relieved, that was exactly what I did. Feeling calmer with him nearby again, I relaxed and chatted with him while messing with games on my cell phone.

Eventually, the nurse came back and told Henry and I that the CT scan was very bad. There was a massive amount of fluid in my skull putting pressure against my brain, which was what was causing my migraines. My suspicion was confirmed. My shunt had, in fact, failed. We had to wait quite a while, but eventually someone came back telling us that I was being transferred to another hospital. This surprised Henry and I because we thought, if anything, the surgery would happen there, but apparently Shelton's hospital does not have a Neurology department. We were told that we were just waiting for a hospital to have an available bed. There were apparently two hospitals close by. This made me even more upset. Now, not only could I not have Henry with me, but I wouldn't even be in the same general area. By now, I was a completed wreck.

A few minutes passed and the nurse came back again, saying that one of the hospitals had a bed for me, but it wouldn't be actually ready until around 7:00 AM, which meant I likely wouldn't be leaving where I was to get there for a while, and by this point, it was around 4:45 AM. I was not happy, but, knowing how bad my condition was, I forced myself not to just ask to be taken home. I was already there, and I knew I needed a surgery at this point, so, despite being scared and anxious, I just sat and waited until I was told they were ready to take me.

Around 5:15 AM, the nurse came back yet again. The SECOND hospital had contacted them. They said they had a bed ready for me right then and there. So rather than leaving at 7, which I would likely have had to do if I'd waited on the first hospital, I'd now be ARRIVING at seven. The hospital I was going to was about 80 miles away. My anxiety went into overdrive at that point, with the realization that, at this point, this was the last I'd see of him until I was discharged from the hospital after the surgery, which, at the time, I had no idea how long that was going to be, and I was also starting to feel sick. I was told that I could be given another dose of the anti-anxiety medication as well as something for the nausea. I consented and was given the meds, then, reluctantly, said my goodbyes to Henry before eventually being wheeled out of the hospital to the ambulance.

Once inside it, I was asked the standard questions about what was going on with me and whatnot, then I pretty much just fell silent, gripping Gideon and trying hard not to cry. Eventually, I fell asleep along the drive.

Page 3

Before I get into this, let me make something clear: I am fully aware that almost everyone reading this will likely say I should have gone to the hospital sooner, but my fear of hospitals and the fact the COVID-19 restrictions meant I'd be left alone, which makes me incredibly anxious, admittedly impaired a lot of my judgment out of fear. I don't do well in hospitals as it is. Taking away my ability to have someone in the room with me is crippling to me and leaves me with a massive amount of anxiety. That being said, I'm gonna start this story more than a week before I went to the hospital, so you get an idea of what happened.

Things began roughly on the 18th. I'd gotten a migraine, and it was bothering me, so I took a Sumatriptan tablet to take care of it, and went to take a nap that night. Woke up and the headache was gone. No problem there, and the rest of my night was normal.

On the 19th, however, waking up the following morning produced another migraine. Spent most of the day with the lights off just to keep the migraine from getting too bad, since, at the time it was just a minor one, but its effectiveness only helped for a few hours. By mid afternoon, I took another tablet and took a nap, despite really not wanting to, but I could no longer focus. Woke up, hours later, but this time, the headache did not go all the way away. It remained a dull ache. I took a second tablet, keeping my room mostly dark for a good portion of the night. Eventually, the second pill was able to take care of the issue, and, by the time I was ready for bed that night, the headache was gone.

The 20th, I had no headache, thankfully, and had a normal day, which consisted of me mostly playing on my computer and working on my Halloween project stuff.

The 21st, I had a doctor appointment, which I had made on the 19th, when I was growing worried about the headaches. Went in and discussed the issue with my doctor, along with getting some other meds. I was advised to let her know if the headaches kept happening or got worse. The night came and, yet again, I had another migraine. Took another tablet, and, since this time the headache came closer to my normal bedtime, I just crashed, but I made the decision to call her again the following morning.

22nd comes and as soon as I wake up, I put in a call to let the doctor's office know what's going on. Unfortunately, she's busy with patients at the time, but I'm told the message will be passed to her. I understand that, because obviously she still has to work, so I didn't expect to hear form her the same day. Sadly, yet again, I ended up dealing with a migraine. This one was only a dull ache one, but nothing I did would stop it. Neither taking another pill, nor keeping the lights off helped. I pretty much dealt with it the entire day. Took a nap, woke up, but got no relief. Later in the night, I went to bed.

From the 23rd-25th, this was pretty much what I dealt with the entire time, still having not heard back from my doctor. I was, by this point, reaching the end of my tolerance. I didn't want to go to the hospital, knowing I'd likely be left alone there, but the pain was becoming too much. Late that evening, after talking to one of my friends, I took one more Sumatriptan tablet, trying to help with the headache I had, and laid down. My friend stayed on the phone and talked with me while I lay there, which was actually helping keep the focus off my head, until I eventually felt tired enough to sleep. In the course of our talking though, my friend begged, then later demanded I go to the hospital because he, much like myself (and my roommate) was now POSITIVE there was something wrong. I finally broke. I made him a promise. If I woke up from my nap, and had even the slightest bit of a headache, I would go to the ER with no fuss. My friend said he wished I would go immediately but eventually agreed to leave it at that. Well, I took the nap, and, big surprise, I still had the headache, and in fact, it was WORSE than when I had gone to bed before. I then got up, went to my roommate Henry's room, woke him and asked to be taken. This was roughly 2AM on the 26th at this point.

Part 2

It took a while, but I just left the hospital and I'm on my way home. I'll probably give a more detailed journal tomorrow.

Surgery is done as of a couple hours ago. Just finished up eating dinner. I'm feeling much better. Assuming there are no problems, I will be discharged tomorrow.

I was originally told my surgery would be today, but I was told it was on a by case basis. This meant that if someone came in that was in a more life-threatening situation than I was, I would get bumped back. Apparently, two more such patients were brought in. So my surgery has been moved until tomorrow.

After everything that happened yesterday, I ended up getting told I would in fact be having surgery today. As of the writing of this journal, I've just been informed that my surgery is scheduled for noon. Wish me luck.

As I am writing this, I am currently sitting in the hospital. After having dealt with almost a week of daily migraines, I went into the ER at about 2 am. I discovered after having gotten a CT scan, that it looked abnormal in that there was a lot of fluid buildup that they saw. As a result, they're looking into getting me transferred to another hospital to take care of it. The one thing I was most afraid of, and it's looking very likely that it's the problem, is that my shunt might have failed.

Because of this, depending on how long it takes to get through all this, my two Halloween projects for the year might not come until sometime in November.

For anyone that read the first Zootopian vore story I wrote years ago, I just posted the first chapter to the sequel I've begun writing to it. The story takes place roughly five years after the events of the first story. It's over on Inkbunny, due to that being the only place I could post the original story, since So Furry changed their AUP guidelines. The new story meets So Furry's new guidelines, but I saw no point in posting it there after being forced to take down the original.

Anyway, for anyone interested, you can find the first chapter to this sequel here.

Dipper bought a much better backing track file of the song because he wanted to do a cover of it himself, and, after hearing how amazing his version sounded, I asked if he minded me using it too. He agreed, and also helped make it sound a bit better. The submission has been updated to the new version. Give it a listen here, and be on the look out for his version, which will be posted soon!

I've done some thinking, and I've decided on the term that I believe best fits how I feel. I don't desire sex in a relationship with ANY gender, but I also only feel romantic feelings for other guys. After writing the journal yesterday, and thinking about some of what was said, it feels right.

So I'm officially coming out as asexual homoromantic.

Possible TMI here, but I would like some help.

Okay, so... what you're about to read is something that has been weighing on my mind for some time now, but, after talking with my housemate/brother Steve about it, I feel confident enough to actually say something about it.

For the last few months, I've been thinking a lot about a certain aspect of my life. Namely my sexual orientation. I am gay. I know that, and I fully believe that. Have been for many years now. The issue lies in the fact that, in recent months, I've come to realize that, although I desire a relationship with someone in the future, I want a romantic relationship, not a sexual one. I can't pinpoint when exactly, but I've realized that the idea of having sex with someone no longer feels appealing to me. I still only experience romantic feelings for men, but there's no desire for anything more than romance for me anymore.

As a side note: Having talked to Steve about it actually felt good. It felt like I was hiding something about myself that I didn't even really fully grasp that I was hiding until after I had said it.

I don't quite know what to call this. Gay asexual? Homoromantic? I know this is what I am, but I'm struggling with the proper term for it. Gay asexual feels right, based on some stuff I've read, but I don't honestly know, so I wanted some input. If anyone has any thoughts on this matter, please let me know.

EDIT: Just to clarify: I'm not writing the journal because I'm struggling with my feelings. I'm writing the journal to ask for people's thoughts on the proper term for it.

Okay, so here goes. The issue with Audacity has been fixed. And the fix itself was so stupid that I feel foolish for not getting it on my own.

I had been working on stuff for the next episode of Arturos Academy last week, and had done all of my recording then. Several days later, I started edit work on it. Everything seemed fine. A couple days into the edit workl, I noticed that ANY editing would cause the program to become unresponsive. At first, I thought the issue was because I was using up a lot of my net bandwidth for redownloading games onto my new Switch (a stupid thought, in hindsight, since that has absolutely nothing to do with Audacity), but the issue still continued even when my downloads were done.

So the next thing I tried to do was copying all the tracks AT ONCE (This fact is important) to a new audacity file, saving to a new place, then doing edits from a new one. Same issue.

Then I tried a fresh installation of Audacity. Still no change.

By this point, I had taken notice of the fact that my cpu was running at 100% processing speed. I became worried when I saw this, because the last time I saw it, it was what forced me to have to go through several hours, with the help of my friend  timidgrizzly to reformat the computer and create a new partition on a different drive because the SSD in the computer had failed. I became disheartened and went into a panic attack over it. This though, turned out to be some sort of fluke though, because within half an hour, it was back to normal, and Timid even confirmed that there are cases where the PC will do that for extended periods.

This left me falling back on my thought something was wrong with Audacity, but I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what. Timid and I tried a few different things to see what would happen. Tried doing what I mentioned above, which produced the same result, but it was done to confirm it was still happening. We then tried moving the tracks over ONE AT A TIME rather than all at once. This seemed to work, as the tracks would transfer over without Audacity going unresponsive, but the moment I tried to do ANY actual editing on the files, even in the new Audacity window, it would lock up again.

As a final resort, Timid suggested EXPORTING the tracks, so the tracks were on my computer directly, then making a new Audacity file, then bring the tracks in that way, ONE AT A TIME.

That, surprisingly, did the trick. They all imported in properly, no locking up, no unresponsive program, and I could edit/save the file and things were back to the way they should be.

So yeah.... after all that... after a depression episode and a panic attack, and my mood getting worse by the day, everything is FINALLY back to the way it should be.

I should not have let it get me that upset, but I tend to panic when my computer starts showing problems, but the fact that the answer to the issue was so simple, only makes me feel stupider.

EDIT! I almost forgot. One of my thoughts on what I think actually happened is that one of the tracks within the file became corrupted during the occasional brief power flash we get when it rains here sometimes. Enough of an issue to cause the power to quickly blink off then back on again. Not enough to fully knock the power out. I can't say for sure, but I believe this MAY have happened during one of my edit sessions and I just didn't notice it.

Update: Okay, so... rebooting my computer seemed to have fixed the 100% processing issue, but unfortunately, Audacity still chugs and locks up, which is what a major part of what my issue was in the first place. Even a fresh install of Audacity didn't fix the issue.

---

A little over a year ago, I had an issue where, for some strange reason, my computer started running at 100% of its processing power all the time. This caused a lot of major lag in almost everything I did with it. With help from  timidgrizzly I was able to get the problem resolved, although it was very time consuming and took forever to do.

Well.. much to my displeasure, it seems the computer is now doing the same thing again. I may have to go through everything all over again. As a result of this, my audio stuff will likely be on hold until the situation is fixed.

Just wanted to let you guys know.

A little while ago, I was made aware of a change in So Furry's AUP. Unfortunately, this change forced me to remove several of the stories I had written, because they contained certain subject matter within them that was no longer allowed due to the change. After doing some heavy thinking on the matter, I've decided I'm going to repost the stories, but they will be posted in the only other furry site I'm a member of that allows that particular type of content. Those that have read my stories, or watch me on So Furry know which stories I'm referring to and what is contained within that is no longer allowed.

Why have I decided to put myself through the trouble of posting them elsewhere? Because, first off, I spent a lot of time writing those stories, and I know there WERE people that enjoyed reading them. Second, because I plan on doing a sequel to one of the stories, but I want people to be able to read the original story, so they understand the events that led up to the sequel I'll be writing.

Over the next few days, I will be uploading the stories to their new home: Inkbunny. All my other stories will still remain on So Furry, but the ones I was forced to remove will now be hosted there. Hopefully, those of you that enjoyed them on So Furry will be happy to be able to read them again.

The way I''ve been doing things is:
- One month I work on a song for On Our Own
- The next month I work on the chapter the song is used for
- The month after that I work of a chapter for Arturos Academy of Awakening

I've been doing it this way for a while. I don't have an issue doing things this way, but it does make progress a lot slower with things, so I wanted to ask you guys your thoughts on something.

The current arc for On Our Own has, at minimum six more chapters to go before I finish it, but with the current way I'm doing things, that means it will take roughly a year and a half before the arc sees its conclusion. Another thought for something I was thinking was, after I DID finish with the current arc, I was going to put OOO on hiatus for a bit and shift focus over to AAA for a while. I've got another arc for OOO in mind, but I want to put some more work into AAA too and thought it might be a good idea to shift focus for a bit, after I finish the current arc.

So, here's the question:

Should I:
- Keep my posting schedule as I have it
- Stop AAA until i finish the current arc of OOO then go back to the original schedule
- Keep to my posting schedule, but put OOO on hiatus for a while after the current arc is done, to add to more of the AAA story for a while (roughly a year, so at least 12 new episodes of AAA would come from this)

Let me know what you guys think. I have nothing against keeping things as they are, but this question comes from the idea of wondering if you guys felt things are progressing too slow and you'd like to see more.

Mahalo for any opinions and thoughts.

I decided today that I needed to do something productive, so I did something I've been considering doing for a while now. Each of the episodes currently available has had their descriptions updated to include a link to the Google Sheet I created for the story. This has tabs with info on all characters currently in the story, all incantations that have been used so far, and, although there's only one currently, all creatures introduced to the story. I will be updating this sheet any time new information is revealed in the story.

The sheet can be found here.

To use it, go to whatever tab you want to look up info one and select what you're looking for via the drop-down menu in cell B2 of whatever tab you're looking at.

Tests were performed. My cousin is brain-dead. As per her advanced directive, the plug is being pulled. I am miserable right now.

I've just uploaded the next update for Visual Stimulation, for anyone that has been playing it. In this version, you're getting Day 2 of Michael's route, and you'll learn a couple interesting things about him.

https://bobbythornbody.itch.io/visual-stimulation

That aside though... the last couple days have not been kind to me and my roomies. Yesterday, something went screwy with our well, and, as a result, we have no running water right now. We had to go into town and stock up on several gallons of water to tide us over until Tuesday, when we can HOPEFULLY get someone to come fix the issue.

As bad as that stinks though, I woke up today to something even worse than that. I found out that my cousin had an aneurysm this morning, sometime around 7 AM. She has been unconscious ever since, form what I've been told, and, as much as it hurts to say it, I have this feeling in my gut that she's not going to come out of it. I'm holding onto hope that I'm wrong, but I don't know what to think.

Arturos Academy and the Visual Stimulation update were posted today because I'd planned on releasing them today BEFORE learning about this, but really, I'm not sure what to say or think about the way things are for me right now. Hopefully you guys enjoy the chapter and the VN update though.

Long story short, I've been considering growing one myself for quite some time. I think they look really nice, and it's something I've had an interest in for years. The problem is, I know absolutely nothing about how to grow them/care for them/etc. I'm looking around on Amazon right now for starter kits and whatnot, but I know I'll also need the proper tools and soil and whatnot too, not to mention a guide for properly caring for them. After all, I want it to last long enough that it CAN grow into something beautiful like the ones I've seen.

So yeah, if any of you know anything about bonsai, please let me know.

Mahalo in advance for any help!

I tend to post journals on Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday that link to that particular day's Let's Play upload on YouTube. I'm curious though, to the ones that actually watch them, would you guys prefer I made a Telegram channel and posted the links there, that way you're not always seeing new journals from here every other day? That way, anyone with access to the channel can choose to watch them or not. This may or may not make any difference to you guys, but I wanted to know if you guys thought it was a better idea than posting journals every other day.