Suspense is like Anaphylaxis

I've been helping a friend edit her novel, every few weeks she gives me a new chapter. I read it and then return it covered in scribbles about grammar, possible continuity errors, awkward phrasing, word choice, phrasing I love, questions, and predictions. It's a great story, and getting the chapters so far apart means I'm pretty much perpetally dying to find out what happens next.

Early in the story, one character tells the protagonist that she definitely cannot ever be seen by another character. Halfway through the book, the protagonist arranges for the two to meet. I read this chapter right after getting my allergy shots. An important thing to know about allergy shots is that they have a slight possibility of causing a systemic reaction that makes you puff up and die. Allergists make you wait for 30 minutes after your shots because if you are going to puff up and die, it's probably going to be in that period. This systemic reaction is called anaphylaxis, and can progress to anaphylactic shock, where your airway swells up until you can't breathe. The cure for this is a shot of epinephrine and cup of weapons-grade Benadryl.

I read feverishly through confrontation scene, barely breathing through the suspense. I finished the chapter, and somehow still felt...suspenseful.

Apparently anaphylaxis feels a lot like suspense.

Specialists.

Recently I have been trying to find an underlying cause for my many bizarre medical issues. I started with my internist.

The specialists were a huge waste of time. 

But they basically all said the same thing.

The lesson I have learned is that a specialist is someone who says "All of your symptoms that fall within the realm of my specialty are completely common and mundane and I see those every day, but your other symptoms are fascinating. Let me refer you to someone who will not give a fuck."

Dietary Restrictions

My doctor told me my bad cholesterol was too high.

And then I went home and researched what exactly constitutes a cholesterol-reducing diet. I quickly determined that those recommendations were almost exactly contrary to the dietary recommendations for my digestive disorder. You see, dietary fiber reduces cholesterol, and I can't digest fiber effectively. A standard cholesterol-reducing diet would not only cause me sever pain, but would also put me at risk for intestinal obstruction. So I went to see a registered nutritionist.

Admittedly I am a difficult patient, but I do honestly feel that if I am paying someone for their advice I should not have to remind them of my limitations every 30 seconds.

Instead of limiting myself to a 3-item diet, I decided I don't actually care about my cholesterol. It's been at the same level for years now.

Hair.

My hair is falling out.

There doesn't seem to be any medical explanation for it. I've had my thyroid and a bunch of other stuff checked, and everything is fine.

I combed my dreadlocks out after the hair loss started, so I'm giving it a couple of months to grow back before I find a dermatologist. For now I just wear hats all the time. I have a lot of hats.

Cosmic metabolic karma

I used to be one of those people that could eat anything and never gain a pound.

It pissed people off.

Then one day I developed appendicitis.

After they removed all my abdominal organs and then put them back again, things never quite worked right. I have something called gastroparesis, which basically means my digestive system no longer gives a fuck. It digests what it wants, when it wants. I now have the metabolism of a python.

I found this out about a month after I got out of the hospital. I was having really horrendous reflux, so I went to a specialist for an endoscopy, which involved shoving a camera down my throat while I was not properly sedated.

I had a bezoar, which in nonmedical terms is a magical stone found in the third stomach of a Syrian goat.

Instead I'm not supposed to eat fresh fruit or vegetables. Also, I drink soda sometimes to make up the calories I miss from not eating. It's the stupidest doctor-approved diet ever, and makes me look like I have the pallet of a 6 year old when I'm trying to look like a responsible adult.