What a strange few weeks I’ve had. I’ve been meaning and meaning to blog, but you know how life just kind of sweeps you up and no matter how hard you try, you just can’t find your footing again? That’s what my like has been like for oh, about three or four weeks now. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not complaining. Most of it has been absolutely wonderful, but naturally, along with all the wonderfulness, some crap had to happen too. I swear, something good just can’t happen in this life without the other shoe dropping with quite a noticeable thud.

    Anyway. It’s going past 4:30 in the morning and I can’t sleep. Earlier today (or rather, yesterday…) I went to the National Naval Medical Center to meet with the doctor who put the IV port in my chest almost exactly a year ago. The port has been causing problems lately – it’s been hurting strangely, it’s been almost impossible to access, and it wasn’t providing much blood return. So I went into today not knowing what to expect, but after speaking with the doctor, he and I decided that it’d probably be best just to take out that port and replace it with a new one. All of a sudden I was signing consent forms, putting on a gown, and getting sedated. The doctor was really nice about it – he made things work so that we could get the procedure done right away. That was very nice of him, but not the nicest thing he did for me today. When he saw how badly I had scarred after he put the first port in (which wasn’t his fault, my body just has to make things difficult), he felt rather bad and he told me he’d do his best to try and fix it up. So he was very careful when he cut me open, and in the midst of replacing my port, he also cut away a lot of scar tissue that had formed. And then, when it was time to put me back together again, he stitched me up on “three different levels”, meaning he used internal stitches, glue, and even more stitches I think. To top all that off, he put a bunch of glue on top of my skin just to make sure everything would stay stuck together and not spread apart like it did last time, leaving me with a nasty ole’ scar. I thought it was awfully sweet of him, and I appreciated it a lot.

    Now I have a brand new, easier to use port hiding under my skin on the upper left side of my chest, shortly below my collar bone. That’s great… except I now feel like my chest has been rather expertly beaten to a pulp. Hence why I’m awake so late. I had been on a somewhat normal sleeping schedule – even for me – but even though I’m quite exhausted, I just can’t sleep. I can’t find a comfortable position and my chest is just killing me. But I shall live, I suppose.

    As exhausted, doped up, and beaten up as I am, I still can’t let any more time go by without reporting at least a few of the amazing things that have happened over the past few weeks. I feel bad that I keep teasing you all, saying I’ll tell you all about it soon, and then being a flake and not following through. I swear, I didn’t have much choice. That’s kind of what happens when suddenly work takes over and on top of that you scare yourself to death thinking that you’re gonna dye (seriously. That sucked. But I think I’m relatively okay now. I think.) ANYWAY. On to the happy news.

Look how cute and sunburned I am! And no, that’s not photoshopped, that’s actually me! In a Ferrari helmet! Grinning like an idiot! But my oh my, what a happy idiot I was, because on Monday, April 23rd, I got to attend a Ferrari track event put together by Ferrari of Washington (thank you, Redding!!). They were sweet enough to invite me out, welcome me, treat me like their new best friend, and they even let me go out on the track in several beautiful Ferraris! Unfortunately I didn’t feel up to driving, thanks to the pain medications I’m on, but they still made sure I had a blast despite the lack of time behind the wheel. I certainly still had a blast. They had a very nice woman give me a little one-on-one refresher course on the physics of racing, a nice man I met there took me for a ride in his 360 Spyder, another nice man took me around the track at insane speeds in his cute white Porsche, and another really nice man (who also happens to race in the same circuit I hope to get into) took me around the track in a GORGEOUS brand new Ferrari 599GTB.

    Needless to say, the 599GTB is now my new favorite car and I want one SO bad. I’d been drooling over the car all day and when I found out I’d get to ride in it around the track at silly fast speeds, I couldn’t contain my joy. After we went around the track and I peeled myself out of the passenger seat, I literally did several happy dances because I just couldn’t contain the glee, as evidenced by the obvious grinning from ear to ear in that picture of me. It was taken by my new friend Herb, whom I met at the event. He snapped a picture of me shortly after that ride in the 599, and let me tell you, riding in that car at speeds above 135mph has left a residual excitement that to this day has yet to wear off.

    In fact, the excitement from everything that happened that day probably won’t wear off for quite some time. Not just because of the time I got to spend on the track, but because of all the fantastic people I met that day. You wouldn’t believe how nice everyone was! I met several life-long friends that day, and not only that, I met oodles of fascinating people who have helped to resurrect my Ferrari television project. I can’t talk about details, but let me just say, things are progressing faster than they ever have before, and it is very, VERY encouraging. It has given me the hope I needed to get through the next few operations and finally lick this stupid disease for good. Or at least for the next few years, when I’ll need touch ups again. But I’m SO close to the finish line, I can envision what my life will be like now once I’ve gotten through these operations, once I’ve finally gotten this disease under control. And let me tell you, thanks to my friends, both old and new, that life is looking pretty darn good and I just can’t wait to get started.

    That helmet photo wasn’t the only photo I got that day. Oooooooh no! I went quite trigger happy with my brother’s cute little digital camera, which he was kind enough to lend to me for the day so I wouldn’t have to carry around my gigantic heavy SLR. So the photos aren’t as high res as my normal photos, and I can’t exactly claim that they’re works of art (giddiness doesn’t lend itself well to a steady camera hand), but I love them. And best of all, the photos will hopefully help you feel like you were there with me. I’ve written a lot of captions to fill you in on the events and details of that wonderful day, so start from the beginning and work your way through the gallery. It’ll be fun, I promise. 🙂 So click here and get started!

    Apart from having a blast getting back to my old life with Ferrari, I have had some bad luck with my health the past few weeks. In short, for some reason we have yet to figure out, I suddenly gained almost 30 pounds in about a week. That’s very, very bad. Thankfully we don’t think it’s Dercum’s growth, because I really just appeared swollen all over. The swelling was SO bad that my feet grew two whole sizes. That’s bad too. I’ve been to see several doctors several times and they haven’t really gotten too close to giving me an answer. We know at this point that it’s not normal water retention. That really scared me to death, because as far as I was told, if it’s not normal water retention, that means the swelling was caused by a problem in one of three systems: my lymphatic system, my liver, or my kidneys.

    One night, after weeks of growth and insanely intense pain, I got to thinking about those three options. Suddenly a paragraph out of a medical journal article about Dercum’s Disease popped into my head. To sum it up, there are two ways in which Dercum’s Disease can be fatal. The first is that the diseased fat cells replicate so quickly that you become so obese so fast that your heart and lungs can’t keep up, causing them to fail. The second plausibility is what scared me… there’s always a chance with Dercum’s Disease that the diseased cells can migrate. For some reason, they can decide that whatever area they’re filling with the diseased cells has somehow become “full”, and that they can’t deposit any more cells there. Then the cells migrate and start depositing some place new. The risk from that is that they may decide to start depositing on an internal organ, encasing it in fat until the organ is literally surrounded and suffocated by fat. Organ failure ensues, and that’s never good, is it?

    With the thought that perhaps my liver and/or kidneys may not be working, I couldn’t get the thought out of my head that finally fate had caught up with me and the fat cells – which have been migrating on me for over two/three years – finally decided to take up residence on an organ. Research has shown that the liver and kidneys are supremely susceptible to Dercum’s, and that it’s commonly those disease that are attacked first. And if either organ is attacked, the early stages of it being suffocated would present symptoms identical to mine.

    I was terrified. Just thinking about that fear, which has mostly passed, I’m close to crying again. As great as things had been, they got just as bad, and fast. Thankfully the night I had that realization, my friend Jimi was on hand to talk to me and try to calm me down. And several other friends soon came to my emotional rescue, through emails, phone calls, presents, and hugs. As always, I’m vastly indebted to them for their help, because I don’t think I could have faced it without them. I’m still scared. I went to the doctor again a few days ago to get some blood test results, and as of right now, it looks like my liver and kidneys are functioning alright. But my lymph nodes are swollen, and they hurt. Is it possible for the lymph system to be attacked by Dercum’s? I don’t know. Why are they swollen and painful and causing me to swell so much? I haven’t a clue, and sadly, neither do my doctors. But it looks like I’ll be having a few more tests over the next week, including hopefully an abdominal ultrasound just to be sure my liver and kidneys are okay. I’m still scared, I still don’t know what’s happening to me, and I’m still in a lot of pain. But at least I have good friends, good memories, and good things to look forward to.

    So there you go. That’s what I’ve been up to. It’s as short a synopsis as I can provide of the events of the past few weeks. Obviously I’ve left quite a bit out in the way of details and funny little stories, but it’s the best I can do given the circumstances. Check out the Ferrari track event photos, please let me know what you think of them, and if you would, please send a prayer or two on up on my behalf. I could certainly use all the help I can get in the health department.

    Oh. And speaking of that. I finally have a surgery date. I meant to blog about that too a while back, but yeah… I just noticed; it’s exactly a week from today (as in Thursday, since it’s well past midnight…) It’s going to be on the 24th. I’ll be honest, I’m nervous about it, I’m not exactly thrilled, but yet again, it’s a necessary evil. What choice do I have? I have to go through with it, so I’ll just have to deal. I’m crossing my fingers and toes, though, that nothing will go wrong. I don’t think I could handle any complications right now. As good as things have been, that scare took a lot out of me, and it’s tough recovering from that with major surgery on the horizon.

    Anyway. I should probably try to sleep. I’m sorry to end this on a down note, but I can’t really help it. What can I say? Ferrari’s been wonderful, and if it hadn’t been for them coming through when they did, this would have been a much, much sadder blog. So at least there’s that. There’s hope, and that hope is a bright red shiny racecar.

    Wish me luck.