The Four Year Battle: Aphthous Ulcers

For anyone with a weak stomach or really despises looking at medical images, I'm not quite sure that this post is for you. For the past four years I have been dealing with a medical ailment that is starting to really drain me emotionally and physically. I have been getting abnormally large sized ulcers in my mouth for the past four years. I'm talking anywhere from dime-sized to nickel-sized ulcers.

At first, I was told this was normal, until I had an outbreak of around ten sores, which I finally could not deal with and started pushing my doctor to find a cure or to find some kind of "cure-all" medicine to make my world less uncomfortable. I went from my pediatrician to a family doctor, to handfuls of "specialists" in oral medicine, dermatology, and Ear-Nose-Throat. I've been put through so many tests that I want to punch small animals for relief.

What's the best part? More than half of the doctors I've seen have been awe-struck and have said things along the lines of "I haven't seen anything like this before." At least the other half are smart or at least hide the fact that they are amazed that I am not crying or something ridiculous.

It wasn't until recently, maybe a year ago, that we started getting down to business. Before this, I had been put through tons of prescription drugs, urine samples, blood samples and biopsies--you name it, I probably had it done. Let's make a list of some tests that come to mind:

-Allergy tests, including a food test
-Urine tests
-Never ending blood work
-Biopsies on ulcer tissues
-Extensive "do you do illegal drugs" interviews
-Endoscopy (also with a biopsy)
-Throat/mouth cultures
-More that I can think of...

Some medications that come to mind (some may repeat because I don't know what they do):
-Tetracycline (antibiotics)
-Valtrex (herpes virus--yep, don't have it)
-Topical ointments
-Steroids
-Countless mouth rinses
-Random assorted prescription drugs (none of which were pain killers, which is what I honestly really wanted because these are excruciating)
-More that I can think of... (come on it's been a continuous 4 years...)

Not only is the pain emotionally and physically stressful, but there's nothing worse than being in pain and all tests run "normal". Oh yeah, and the fact that you are told that you may have an incurable auto-immune disorder. It was thought that I may have Pemphigus or Behcet's syndrome and for a moment (and still) I just wanted to feel normal. It turns out (so far) that I don't have an autoimmune disease...

Thank God I had health insurance through that whole mess, however now I am not so fortunate. I was doing well for the past almost year, when I ran into the fact that I can't afford to go to see the specialist I was seeing in Indianapolis. It seems like every time I go I rack up a bill of almost $200. I'm broke and my throat seems as if it is going to completely be ulcered over.

As for the cure, I was prescribed Dexamethasone Elixir .5g/5ml (I think I got that right). It's a cortisone treatment (from what I remember). I am supposed to swish it around a few times a day and spit it out, so that my bones do not absorb the crazy stuff in it.


Here are a few pics for the kids:

(Sorry, I don't feel like shaving when in intense pain) Not only do I get these on my gums, throat, and inner lip, but I get them on my tongue as well. You can see it's the same height as my tongue. This has been about 2-3 weeks since it started to ulcer.

You can see that the ulcer on the right side is the most defined, as well as the smaller one towards the middle-left. The whole left side is a large ulcer that is kind of awkwardly spread around the surrounding tissue. You can see that my whole throat looks very irritated and has many small bumps. Is this painful? Yes.

Bucket List #4

Okay...so this one really makes me cringe. Josie and I talked tonight about wisdom teeth. I have to get all four of mine removed. One of the things about having a bucket list is that you're going to have to do something that straight out TERRIFIES you. I am terrified of getting teeth removed and have sworn that I will need anesthesia to get any teeth taken out. So there we have it...I have to get my wisdom teeth out while awake. This is going to suck. Plus, do I get to keep my teeth? What do they do with your teeth?

Bucket List #3

I want to etch something on the trunk of a tree. A message that will last as long as the tree lives.

formspring.me

If you could have an endless supply of any food, what would you get?

Endless supply of Penn Station's East Coast Subs.

Ask me anything

Bucket List #2

I've always played Mario Brothers, but I've never won. I want to dedicate time to beat the original Mario Brothers game. I have never once completed a whole video game.




Side note: Check out Bassekou Kouyte's album "I Speak Fula". I have no idea what they are saying, but it is still really cool to listen to.

Bucket List #1

Visit and/or climb Mount McKinley in Denali National Park, Alaska.

Politics explained...

FEUDALISM: You have two cows. Your lord takes some of the milk.

PURE SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takes them and puts them in a barn with everyone else's cows. You have to take care of all of the cows. The government gives you as much milk as you need.

BUREAUCRATIC SOCIALISM: You have two cows. The government takes them and put them in a barn with everyone else's cows. They are cared for by ex-chicken farmers. You have to take care of the chickens the government took from the chicken farmers. The government gives you as much milk and eggs as the regulations say you need.

FASCISM: You have two cows. The government takes both, hires you to take care of them and sells you the milk.

PURE COMMUNISM: You have two cows. Your neighbors help you take care of them, and you all share the milk.

RUSSIAN COMMUNISM: You have two cows. You have to take care of them, but the government takes all the milk.

CAMBODIAN COMMUNISM: You have two cows. The government takes both of them and shoots you.

DICTATORSHIP: You have two cows. The government takes both and drafts you.

PURE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors decide who gets the milk.

REPRESENTATIVE DEMOCRACY: You have two cows. Your neighbors pick someone to tell you who gets the milk.

BUREAUCRACY: You have two cows. At first the government regulates what you can feed them and when you can milk them. Then it pays you not to milk them. Then it takes both, shoots one, milks the other and pours the milk down the drain. Then it requires you to fill out forms accounting for the missing cows.

PURE ANARCHY: You have two cows. Either you sell the milk at a fair price or your neighbors try to take the cows and kill you.

LIBERTARIAN/ANARCHO-CAPITALISM: You have two cows. You sell one and buy a bull.

SURREALISM: You have two giraffes. The government requires you to take harmonica lessons.

(Original source unknown)

"Healthcare system not to be improved in the near future...or ever'

Although I'm an advocate for our president, Barack Obama, I believe that a universal health care plan will not work...or happen in the near future. Although I would love to see restrictions put on medical practitioners, I think there will no compromise between government and the health care system in the end. Canada offers their citizens a universal health care program and the United States does not. Most people claim that they "pay outrageous amounts of taxes" and "that's why we are better off with a free reign." This is not completely true. A single citizen pays 31.6% tax in Canada whereas in the United States we pay about 29.1% in taxes. As a married citizen with two children you will pay approximately 21.5% in taxes and 11.9% here in the United States. In Indiana sales tax is 8%; in Canada the most expensive sales tax region is 15.25% on Prince Edward Island. Sure, this is higher than we currently pay, but are the extra few percentage points worth it?

I hear others discussing how the poor are taking advantage of the middle class for their use of health care assistance programs. Though they are already fortunate to have health care from their parent's place of work or other means, no one considers the other side of the spectrum. For most of my life I have lived without health care and have had to bear the costs of getting any medical attention. Instead of the $20 co-pay that most have, we have to pay the full amount. You're sick and need medication before it's serious? That'll be $100. Medicine? Forget a $10 generic prescription, because now it's $30. Not only do you feel horrible because of the ailment you got from someone, but you are now down $130 because you cannot afford in the first place because of the situation you or your parents are in being in and out of jobs.

This past year I have been to the doctor way too many times to count. I have had these horrific sores growing about my mouth for the past years and it got serious. I saw a couple of specialist doctors, of which the horrible insurance we DID have, rejected to pay. Not only do I now owe over $500 in doctor visits, but I owe another $2,000 for having a fancy camera go down my throat while passed out so that I could get some sweet body shots of my esophagus (usually called a endoscopy). The lady then told me I had to take Aciphex, which is a acid-reflux medicine that costs $200 a month without insurance. Do I suffer or live in debt instead?

A friend of mine was diagnosed with Celiac Disease, which means she is allergic to gluten. She also has allergies to quite a few things and takes various other over-the-counter medicines. Every inhaler she pays for is over $100 a month, and that's not even including any of the allergy medicines or over-the-counter goods.

So, if universal health care is not the answer, what is? Do we set government regulation on practicing doctors or do we let them continue raking in ridiculous amounts of profit in the hands of the underprivileged. Don't even get me started on health care financial assistance... I've applied this year in February and haven't heard anything since.

The meeting house

The house was warm and cozy, sort of like a snow day with the heat on full-blast. Grandma’s house was so welcoming, as if it were a meetinghouse for the family; the smell of freshly baked cookies, hugs and kisses, and not forgetting the toys, too. Upon visiting, I could feel the warmness and comfort and acceptance my family gave off. Oh, how I always looked forward to Sundays at Grandma’s.
Grandma’s house was an escape; a trip down 3rd Street, one of the last brick roads that remain intact in Fort Wayne. Her house was one of those houses downtown without a garage—but instead, rather, an alley-way. In the front of the house Evergreens dominated the porch with their bristles littering the rustic swing of the porch. Inside of the house flaunted antique dressers, an old record player the size of Texas, and a weathered davenport—as Grandma used to call it.

Grandma Josephine—shortened to Grandma Jo—was one of my favorite grandparents; she was caring and wasn’t the stereotypical mean elder seen in the movies. Always wearing her flowered blouses, reading her TV Guide magazine and baking, she brought our family together for one day of the week to spend time with each other and catch-up in between our busy lives. Every weekend I found myself playing with my two cousins, whether it was house, building a fort, or running around outside tagging each other. Our mothers worried, crying, “Don’t you go anywhere near that street you three, you’ll get killed!” We always listened.

Our family was pretty big; Jo had three sons and three daughters, and plenty of grandchildren to go around. I never got the chance to meet my grandfather, as he passed away about two months before I was born. My grandfather had built the house from the bottom up. He was a pretty clever man, interested in radios and trains—he made a living working for General Electric and invented new technologies for our constantly innovating world.

Grandma Jo’s house seemed really magical. My cousins and I would peek into drawers and rooms we thought looked mysterious, only to be amazed at what we found. What we found was treasure to us; whether it be in picture form or army gear from my grandfather serving in World War II. Oh, how we believed we were pirates.

My favorite part of the house was the basement. Filled with all kinds of memories and antiques, it always kept me amazed. My grandfather showed an interest in trains and had a large train track set up in the basement of the house with tons of train cars and small model homes—even a model McDonald’s. Whenever I went over to Jo’s, I would ask Uncle Jeff to help me set up the trains. This was probably one of my favorite childhood memories, because I liked to pretend I was the conductor when moving the many controls.

I am not sure why, but Grandparents seem to have the most entertaining stories; ranging from my crazy aunts and uncles or my mother’s childhood. She told me about how my mother’s Aunt Sammy gave haircuts to all of my aunts and uncles. The best part was finding an old picture of my mother in a spare bedroom upstairs from when she was in the fifth grade; she looked almost exactly like me as a child—buzz cut and all. Oh, how I felt bad for my mother and the dreadful Aunt Sammy haircuts.

Not even a block away stood Most Precious Blood Catholic School, the elementary school my mother, aunts, and uncles all attended. In the summer we played on the playground for hours and hours and went to the school’s carnival. With all types of fun things to do, my cousins and I would spend hours winning prizes, teddy bears, and even catching a few handfuls of cotton candy. At the end of the night, my two closest cousins and I would spend the night at Grandma’s house; she would make us bacon and eggs in the morning to fill our bellies. And that was why I loved Grandma’s house.

I am not an English major, despite popular belief.

I am starting my book this fall. I finally found a title for it. It only took me four years. Four. I can start writing my letters.

A courageously determined pursuit to interview Ben Folds

Winston Churchill has said, “Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.”

To achieve certain goals in life, determination and courage are some of the biggest factors to doing so. Sure, failure is prone to happening at multiple times in anyone’s lifetime, but does that mean all hope is to be given up and no willpower should be invested in our wants or biggest dreams? I believe not.

Ever since I started listening to music at an early age I had the dream of being a rock star. It did not occur to me until I got my first guitar in middle school that I did not possess the ability of keeping a beat or singing while playing guitar, let alone the skill to play anything besides a simple Blink-182 riff—however, that did not discourage me from a little recreational guitar playing.

Since being a rock star is not the easiest thing to achieve, I decided to settle for meeting a popular musician—specifically, one that I am fond of. I decided that this was a great time to execute that plan since I write for the newspaper—so why not interview a musician? I found my musician: Ben Folds. Ben was playing at the Embassy Theatre here in Fort Wayne. I knew from the start that this would not be an easy task.

In it for the long haul, I did some research, not knowing how to successfully attain this interview. I tried to find any contact information to no avail. I started the journey at Sony BMG Music Entertainment, the parent company of Epic Records. I was unsure which department I had to talk to, so I began my journey of leaving voicemails on corporate inboxes and sending emails to anyone who seemed legit enough to get me my interview.
A half an hour after leaving about four or five voicemails, I got a call from an area code in New York—I was so nervous I almost missed the call on purpose so I would only have to listen to the voicemail. Picking up the phone, I was greeted by a publicist for Sony BMG and given the phone number to an Epic Records publicist located in Los Angeles, California, to which I responded with, “Awesome!”

I called the number and once again got a voicemail. The next day I was greeted from a phone call from Epic Records and was directed to send her an e-mail with contact information and a brief explanation for the publication I am involved with. E-mail sent. Fastest response I have ever given—I was so excited.
Two weeks went by and I didn’t hear a thing. I began to lose interest in this interview, and then right as my hopes were fading, I got an e-mail with contact information. Finally, after two weeks, more progress! Again, I sent a quick response to my contact at Big Hassle Publicity. No e-mail. Another two weeks went by.

Discouragement got in the way of my determination. I almost gave up, until I got tired of being pushed away from what would be one of the biggest interviews of my life. I found the company’s phone number and began making my calls. Finally after numerous attempts, I was directed to a publicist named Ken. He was a nice guy, but quickly I found he was not the man I needed to talk to. He directed me to Nicole, who would be able to get me exactly what I needed—FINALLY! She accomplished more in my quest to get this interview than anyone else I had talked to.

It was two days before the concert and I still had not heard a final answer on if I had the interview or not. I went around asking everyone I knew, “What would you ask if you met one of your favorite musicians?” I got a lot of irrelevant interview questions, such as “Will you have my babies?”, but it made me realize the questions I wanted to ask: everything that nobody else would think to ask him. I did not want the cookie-cutter interview.

The day before and I had still heard no response. I made four calls that day. Two out of the four times, she was “not at her desk”, which I believe was staged so she did not have to talk to me yet again.

I never got a call back—instead, an email. I knew would not be good. “I appreciate your patience with me on this,” was the first line and my heart dropped, “but it doesn’t look like we’re going to be able to schedule this for tomorrow...with travel and other commitments, we couldn’t make it work with Ben’s schedule.”
My heart sank. I did not let it get to me. I failed; however, I had gotten further than most people have. I took a dream and I tried to turn it into an epic interview that would be the biggest interview of my life. But hey, now I’ve got connections—his tour publicist hooked me up with two tickets to the show, of which was one of the best Ben Folds shows I have been to (and free!). Sure, he wasn’t full band, but he blew the Embassy away with the help of the Fort Wayne Philharmonic.

What happens now? I suppose, for now, waiting until the next time Ben comes around Fort Wayne. As long as you have a dream and the determination to achieve a goal, most people will take the time to listen to what you have to say. For me, this isn’t a failure—it is a success. Although I did not actually get to interview him, I had the trip of a lifetime talking to big-shot publicists who could get me exactly what I needed. Now the only thing left is a bunch of unanswered questions which trouble my mind and curiosity.

A lifetime of writing

Lives are spent writing; whether the writing is for a book, publication, or notes for remembering certain events, writing is an essential practice of everyday lives. To some, writing comes naturally, but to others writing is compared to the fears of confronting a bear—scared of how to approach it and how to interpret mismatched thoughts into sentences that develop and flow. I realized that “confronting the bear” not only meant writing, but took a lot of work getting used to and improving.

Preschool classes were spent writing names on large pieces of paper and decorating them with crayons and finally, in kindergarten, learning to spell the simplest words such as “cat” and “dog.” Writing as a young child was probably one of the biggest achievements, when guessing was always right and handwriting was new. These were the earliest memories I had as a child, when I used to write my name in half lowercase letters and half in uppercase letters. Early years in education were filled with wide ruled paper where letters were formed and words were spelled and where writers first learned taking a pencil to paper.

Elementary teachers always ask the bold question, “Write something about yourself if you live to be one hundred years old.” Writing is not just the forming of words into sentences. Writing is personality. What forms the sentences are vivid imagination, personality, and perspective. “When I’m one hundred years old I’m not going to have any teeth,” was my response as a first grade student, with a badly drawn image of myself in an orange jumpsuit and lopsided head.

I did not even remotely start liking to write until high school. I had a high school teacher that really changed writing and the experience; he looked like Ben Folds and was dorky and had the same sense of humor as him, too. Instead of a piano, he rocked a pen and journal and was slightly less famous as a musician. He made writing fun by assigning papers but granting the freedom of writing anything we wanted within certain guidelines. “Classifications of Co-workers,” “The Best Gig Ever,” and “Having Fun At Work” were just a few titles of articles where I was given the chance to turn a requirement into an essay full of excitement, as well as writing music, movie, and short video clip reviews in class.

Throughout my middle and high school career I put out nothing but half-assed papers with little to no thought, hoping to “just get by” until I finally opened my eyes to realize that if effort and personality are put into a paper it will turn into something a world better than a piece written to get through a class. Have fun with the assignment. Sometimes all it takes to get motivation spewing is a deep voiced, Ben Folds-like, former attorney turned teacher to change the way writing is perceived and how it affects anyone as a person.

Sophomore year I decided to take a journalism class, which if I completed two semesters would get me into a publications program. I went through the two semesters of classes and joined our school’s student magazine and I wrote on the staff for two years, which gave me the ability to put my creative thinking into public view. Not only is it hard to get a high school student to pick up a magazine, but what was even harder was getting the student interested and not losing his or her attention.

Features stories were mostly my niche within the publication, where I wrote music or restaurant reviews or even defined the word “music” and what it meant to others—which was answered differently every time. Not only is writing something for others to read and enjoy rewarding, but being able to see my words in a publication is one of the best feelings to experience.

Writing can be used to put a point across, to relieve stress, or just to write a grocery list for the following day. Writing is used almost every day and is almost crucial for every job. Throughout my high school career, I found that the only bad writing is no writing. Sure, a paper with no effort may turn out a decent grade, but there is no doubt that the paper could have been better if more thought and personality was put forth. I realized that “confronting the bear” not only meant writing, but writing with confidence, effort, and personality; a lot of improvement and hard work makes for great literature.

The Ataris come to Smalltown, IN

On Saturday, September 13, The Ataris stepped foot in Bluffton, IN—but not by accident. Starting off like any other local rock and pop punk shows, Fort Wayne and surrounding area local bands took the stage, playing covers and original songs. There was only one difference tonight: the bands would be opening for a largely familiar band. The concert had been Bluffton’s biggest concert in history.

Gutshot, Rudy Can’t Fail, and The Ready Set were performing openers before The Ataris took the stage to rock down the night. Drop Anchor, Set Sail reunited this one night only for the special occasion.

“This was my favorite concert I have ever played,” Blair Williams, a Freshman, said. “It was a once and a lifetime kind of thing.” Williams is a singer and bassist from the reunited Drop Anchor, Set Sail.

Not even half of the Bluffton 4-H Quonset building was full as The Ataris took the stage, shocking all that were there who were wondering how many would eventually show up. Alas, fans were still ecstatic to watch what was about to be released by Kristopher Roe and fellow band members. Everyone waited with anticipation for the band to start their set.

Roe started off with thanking everyone for coming out to Bluffton for the show and killing time until all the musicians fine-tuned the equipment. Chris Swinney, the guitarist, lit a pre-show cigarette while tuning his guitar and getting ready to rock the Quonset building for the next hour.

“So Long, Astoria,” “In This Diary,” and “The Boys of Summer,” were played as well as a smorgasbord of other originals and cover songs. Roe politely thanked the audience for being so kind to the applause and also told a few stories.
But how did they end up in Bluffton? “Chris [Swinney] has some ties to Bluffton. He was from the band The Widow Jenkins and joined The Ataris,” said Williams. “We asked them to play a show and it happened.”

The Ataris originated from Anderson, IN in 1995. Coming is their sixth record release, so be on the lookout when the album hits stores in 2009!

New innovative pen by Livescribe

Ever find yourself in lecture and missing half of what the professor says? Do you ever wish you could fill the gaps and never miss a word again? Whether you write slow, have a wandering mind, or have your own form of hieroglyphics, the new Pulse Smartpen may be your solution to lectures, manufactured by a new company called LiveScribe. Not only is the pen capable of recording lectures with this high tech device, but also keeping what is being written synchronized with what is being recorded, as to return to a certain point in your notes at any time.

Voice is recorded through dual mono recording microphones located on the pen, which work hand-in-hand to catch every word and can be replayed through a small speaker on the pen or through included headphones. Weighing only 1.3 ounces, the pen is housed in an ergonomic anodized aluminum and is about the size of a permanent marker.

Two versions of the pen are available: the 1GB model (over 100 hours of recording time) retails for $149, while the 2GB model (over 200 hours of recording time) retails for $199. The accessories in this package include a 100-sheet college-ruled notebook, case, 3 black fine point ink cartridges and headphones.

Desktop software is also included with the Smartpen, which allows you to view pages and replay notes, as well as a search feature which allows you to search for phrases within your digitalized notes. An online community is accessible through the LiveScribe website for posting and sharing content, as well as 250MB of online storage for reviewing items from your notebook from any computer.

My favorite features on this pen would be the recording of lectures and pen strokes with the 70 frames per second high speed infrared camera. I have found this useful in numerous occasions where I wanted to hear a certain part of a lecture while studying for an exam, although there are some drawbacks to this technology. The only obstacle I have found are reluctant professors who prefer to not have their lectures recorded. I was told by a professor at the start of the fall semester, “Recording lectures is not normal—I would prefer if you did not record my classes.”

The pen may be a costly tool as an aide to education but can be compared to the cost of a class textbook. Special dot paper notebooks are also required and sold in packs of four at $19.99, which is a bit costly; LiveScribe is creating a way to have printable dot paper, which should dampen the cost of expensive notebooks in the future. If anyone has trouble with any of their classes, I would recommend this pen to help them. This is a great product and I applaud the creators at LiveScribe for such an innovative technology.

True as the night

The importance of leaving an entry-level job behind and continuing your education at a college level may be one of the most important tasks of your lifetime. I cannot stress that sentence anymore than I have tried to state it. Go to college. Entry level jobs are jobs that you can get in high school, out of high school--some even without a high school diploma. The jobs usually pay anywhere from $6.55 (minimum wage as of July 2008) to $10--if you are lucky--and usually end up having the same characteristics as any entry-level job. Honestly said, I absolutely hate working in a factory. In every job there will be people you love working with and are great people, but most of them will be stuck there for the rest of their lives telling themselves they need to get out of the dead-end job they are in and go to school. Most of them never will.

My job is the easiest I have had, most tiring, and highest-paying job--what is there to dislike? The fact that I can have up to six hours of downtime is one of the negatives. Also, there is always one employee that has been there for way too long and has a power trip (although they are not a supervisor). I have had a guy--on numerous occasions--put me down because I was "not trained right" and did not perform tasks correctly. I throw ice cream onto pallets. It is not a hard job, although supposedly I cannot throw ice cream correctly onto a pallet. This does not make sense to me since I do my job and everyone else thinks I am doing fine.

Actually working at a factory or other entry-level job has made me realize how important education will be to my future and well-being. If I want to be able to support my family and to be able to not go into debt, then my mission will be complete. I cannot wait to get to school in the fall to start my journey...