On October 8th, something happened that made me completely rethink healing myself with pushups and denial. I went to the bathroom and looked down to find that my right testicle had gone from the size of a grape, to the size of an orange. It was a balloon between my legs. I immediately went to the doctor. I could lose 40lbs. But not have a problem with the family jewels.
As a product of American Health Care, I had no insurance . It was the Miami Beach Clinic for me. I qualified at the lowest level, and when I saw a doctor, he freaked out. Not at the testicle, but at the fact that I had lost so much weight in so little time. He ordered lots of blood tests. I didn’t have HIV, or cancer. He ordered more tests. Each time I would take a test it would take days to get back the results. They weighed me each time I was there, and my weight kept going down. I was in the 140’s. I was going to him 2-3 times/week. He had me on an antibiotic that got the swelling down, though it still wasn’t “right”. After a week, and told me that he suspected my thyroid was the reason for the weight loss, and it would be easy to treat, but it couldn’t be treated while I was taking the antibiotic. So I should finish the anitbiotics, then we hit up the thyroid treatment, which is simple. I was on the road to recovery. Yay!
I have my next event scheduled for St. Petersburg, Russia. I’m starting to think that I might not be able to make it. I submitted the visa application, however, with my latest picture.
November 11 – After another week, Pamela asked how I was doing, and I told her that things seemed to be getting better. I didn’t have much of an appetite but I could force food down. She offered to bring by some things. My friend Samatha also said she would bring by some food. Pamela pulled into the driveway and I was waiting downstairs to open the security gate. I saw her face, she was crying.
“We need to go to the emergency room right now.”
“What do you mean? I’m fine. I’m really thirsty, let’s get this stuff upstairs.”
Pamela is a registered nurse, a health care professional with a Masters degree in Nursing, and years of experience. I knew how to do pushups and eat protein. I was obviously going to come out ahead.
“Shaka, you are not well. We can take this in, and then we are going to the hospital. I’m not asking.”
She parked and we took the things upstairs. Well, she took the things upstairs. Orange juice is really heavy, and she had like 2 of them. I wanted to get a cart. A few minutes later Samantha arrives with a bucket of chicken. But she parked all the way on the corner. I made it slowly around the corner to her car and her eyes got wide.
“Shaka, what happened to you? You’re skin and bones”
“Yah, but don’t worry, I got this muscle building book that I’m gonna start on tomorrow. I just need protein…”
She gives me a bucket of chicken, and I then request a ride the 50 feet or so back to the house. She had gotten the extra heavy chicken bucket. I could barely hold it going up the elevator.
Pamela looked at some of the blood test results that I had on hand, and I tried to convince her that I was taking care of business. I had an appointment with the Dr the next day,and I was feeling better, and even could eat. I had some orange juice with seltzer water and Pamela went home.
November 11 – I go to the doctor. – Weight 138lbs. He says that he wants me to take a chest X-ray. They write up a referral. Then I head to the Urologist, who looks at my testicle and says “What the…this is hot! I need an ultrasound immediately!”, which meant another referral. So I call and schedule both for the next day. Luckily it’s all at the same place.
November 12 – Pamela says she’s coming by the house to check on me. She shows up with Jareau and Dani. I hate surprises like that. I throw on my baggy clothes to hide my size. We shoot the breeze for a while, and I tell them that I’m doing a lot better and I have an X-ray and ultra sound scheduled for the next day, plus a Dr’s appointment on Thursday, and my mother coming in to take care of me. I’m handling business. They leave and I get a text from Dani. It was an ultimatum for immediate weight gain, or she was taking me to the hospital. I think it may have had percentages that I had to have.
I am thinking about how tiring it can be to shower, and in observance of the fact that I can’t actually stand in the shower long enough to clean everything the way I like (I’m very thorough), I get the bright idea of ordering a shower seat, so I can sit down and not have to worry about passing out again.
Oh, I didn’t mention that I passed out in the bathroom? Blacked out while standing over the toilet, hitting my face and chest against the commode. I also blacked out going from the kitchen to the bathroom the week before. But you know, these things happen. Tomorrow I would do some squats.
I’m also peeing every 20 minutes or so. I’ll be fine.
November 14 – I go to the doctor. He looks at me and says “Shaka, I can’t do what you need here. If I were in a hospital it would be possible for me to order the tests that I need. But as an outpatient clinic this is taking too long. You need to go to the Emergency room immediately. Not next week. Not tomorrow. Now.”
And I’m thinking “But Dr. I had an egg mcmuffin this morning. I just need to do more jumping jacks.” He’s only an MD. What does he know about health care?
“I’m going to write you a letter to take to the emergency room. Go there now.”
So I decide that I will go to the hospital. I get a weigh-in before I go. I’m thinking I’ll back up to the 140’s. Not even close – 135 lbs.
With mommy coming in around 2 in the afternoon, I was trying to figure out how to welcome her, and then tell her that we were going to have to go to the hospital. I decided to let her land and take the shuttle to the house, but down her bags, get hugs and kisses, then let her know the situation. I’m at the point that I can’t stand up anymore, and I am carrying a portable stool to rest on. I go downstairs for her to arrive. She gets out of the shuttle and looks at me. I want to run over and hug her, but that would require standing up.
We go upstairs, and mommy finally meets Phil (She already was friends with Buddy from dogsitting while Phil was in NY) and I give her the news. She takes it in stride.
“OK, let me use the bathroom and we can head out”
I decide that they might want to keep me at the hospital a couple days, so I pack a small roller case with 3 pair of underwear and a couple of shirts. Anything more would be too heavy. Actually, that bag itself was too heavy and Phil had to bring it down. It must have weighed at least 15lbs. We drove to Jackson Memorial Hospital.