Chit Chat and All That...

Shout out to @Jammer.

I hope you're OK. I know you got it bad. Sending you love from your tinnitus family.

 

@tpj, I haven't forgotten about you, my friend, Sending you love and warm regards.

What's new?

 

Thanks @Daniel Lion. You're a sweetie ❤️

I'm depressed. I'm mostly housebound these days. Between this bloody noise and being stuck inside, I feel like I'm going crazy.

 

I am so sorry that you are housebound. After reading about 5 or 6 stories here, I decided I would not be housebound, so I started doing the things that make me happy. I now take walks regularly and find places where the sound is not loud. I coached baseball for 15 years and must be very careful since baseball games can be horribly loud.

 

I’m sorry to hear that. Depression is something that takes hold of you to the point you don’t know who you are anymore. I get out when I know noise will be a bare minimum. I know it’s hard to motivate yourself, but try and stay strong.

Also, who isn’t a bit crazy? Eh, “normality” is overrated and boring. However, when you start dressing fruit up and making them your fruit friends, then there is worry, haha.



Big hugs.

 

Since getting tinnitus seven years ago, I have had several mental breakdowns... I can even diagnose them and treat myself with rest and medications without seeing a doctor

 

That's good news.

I'm sorry you've had to endure this beast for so long. I'm nearly four years in, and I'm improving at managing the spikes without collapsing. But some days... SOME DAYS! Jesus, take the wheel!

 

I've been thinking about you today, trying to brainstorm ideas that might help. Being housebound isn't ideal—what can you do to get out more? Are you staying indoors because of noise outside, or has it become a habit, driven by fear or routine? Both are difficult cycles to break, but spending time outdoors is crucial for your health, rehabilitation, mood, and spirit.

If noise is the issue, try getting up before sunrise. Drink some water, do some stretches or arm lifts to get the blood flowing, and eat a bit of raw garlic before having tea or coffee. Head out early, while it’s still quiet, and stay out for about an hour. Later, find a spot to sit in the sun for 10 to 15 minutes.

If you're dealing with physical limitations that make this difficult, tailor the plan to your needs. Start simple and gradually build up. Even sitting in the sun in a wheelchair can be beneficial.

I don’t like the thought of you being stuck inside, and it breaks my heart. Focus on what you can control.

Noise can be a real challenge, but distractions can help your mind temporarily forget it. Painting, sculpting in clay, or chatting with friends are great ways to keep busy.

Don't forget to take your hot baths with candles, and if possible, try a sauna or steam room—they're even better.

Let's work on breaking the depression. Your recovery is important to me and everyone around you.

What do you want to do? What do you enjoy? What do you think might help?

And please, don't mention shagging @ZFire—he's too far away and might already be spoken for.

Love you, @tpj. I'm here to help.

 

Bloody hell @Daniel Lion! Okay... no mention of shagging @ZFire. Got it, lol!!!

Daniel, I truly appreciate your care and concern for me. I just need time to grieve the loss of my old life.

Yes, I'm mostly inside because of noise. As bad as my tinnitus is, I think the hyperacusis is worse. If it wasn't for that, maybe I could still live a somewhat normal life. I'll keep your suggestions in mind, though.

Thank you @Bob3382 and @Jcb for your messages. It's good to see you again @Jcb.

Love you, @Daniel Lion. I'm so happy you're doing well. Please, don't worry about me. I just need some time.

 

I understand.

Hyperacusis is debilitating like nothing else.

I promise no jokes like @ZFire, but I will continue to worry and be concerned for you.

If I can help you in any way, just let me know.

Love and wishes for better days and a gentle hug,
Daniel

 

Well, shagging is a stress reliever, and I practice it regularly. No problem mentioning it. You should try it.

 

Hang in there, @tpj. We all go through bad phases. I'm on a spike myself now -- since the landlord served notice to quit

 

Let's step away from the tinnitus subject for a moment, or in my case, for more than a hundred words. I want to take you back to a time before 1981, to the John Lennon of Jamaica—Mr. Bob Marley. Through his reggae music, Marley told stories of life, expressing powerful messages through his songs. Tragically, he was taken from us at the age of 36, yet his music lives on. Much like John Lennon, his legacy continues.

Speaking of Lennon, let's not forget George Harrison, who was often overshadowed by both Lennon and McCartney. Despite being a brilliant musician, Harrison was sometimes neglected. However, he found success later in his career, playing with the Traveling Wilburys alongside other legendary artists like Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, Roy Orbison, and Jeff Lynne. Two of those greats, Orbison and Petty, have since passed, but their music remains timeless.

Returning to Bob Marley, it all began with what seemed like a simple bruise on his big toe, just under the nail. It was initially thought to be a soccer injury, but it was later discovered to be acral lentiginous melanoma (ALM), a rare form of skin cancer more commonly found in people of color. Marley opted to have the nail removed and the cancer treated without undergoing amputation of the toe, a decision that, unfortunately, allowed the cancer to spread to his lungs and brain, leading to his untimely death.

I can understand why he might have refused the more aggressive treatment. However, it's important for all of us to pay attention to any unusual changes in our skin, whether it's discoloration or a change in our feet or palms. These subtle signs shouldn't be ignored, as they can indicate something much more serious—a silent killer.

Take care and stay vigilant.

— Elmer

 

@Daniel Lion, seeing how you have always been a dear friend and supportive during my tinnitus struggle, I thought you should know about my recent doctor's appointment.

Three weeks ago, I had a colonoscopy, during which the specialist discovered what he called a "sinister polyp."

Today, I was informed that the polyp is actually a cancerous tumor. I've been referred to one of the top cancer hospitals in the country. I remain hopeful and will stay positive.

—Elmer

 

@tpj, thanks for the hug. It is always appreciated by all my tinnitus family.

OK, @UKBloke, thanks for another hug.

Elmer

 

I’m sorry to hear about your doctor's visit. I hope it is treatable.

 

Thank you. I received a call from the cancer hospital yesterday. In three weeks, I will go in for an MRI and a CT scan to check if the cancer has spread to any other areas. After that, I'll begin chemo and radiation to shrink the tumor, followed by a meeting with the doctors who will perform the surgery. The hospital is rated among the top three in the country.

I am a retired American living in Ireland. I stay positive by keeping myself busy with woodworking in my shop.

 

Wow, big news.

Slow and steady—I’m sure you'll beat this. You've already endured so much, and I’m sorry the universe is testing you again. But there’s reason to be cautiously hopeful, especially considering the location and the fact that they found it when they did.

We are just vessels. And let me tell you, my noble elder brother, you’re the best of the best. I love you. I’m thinking of you and hoping you recover in record time. Please don’t hesitate to let us know how you're doing.

Love and hugs,
Daniel and family

 

What sparked your interest in retiring to Ireland from the United States? Had you been there before? I ask because I've always wanted to visit Europe, but I haven't yet crossed the ocean. I hope you're having a blessed day.

 

I've only this to say:

FUCK CANCER.

 

I'm at the hospital, waiting for my first appointment for an MRI and CT scan. I'll be back on Thursday to get the results.

 

I’m praying for you right now, if that’s okay.

 

Of course, that's a personal experience.

So, during the MRI, I messed up by shifting my back because it was killing me. Someone said, "Don’t move," but they had to back up and redo part of the MRI. Then, when I was finished, the nurse pulled the needle out of my arm. They had injected a mild sedative—guess that didn’t work. Anyway, she shouldn’t have removed the needle because, for the CT scan, they had to insert another one to inject dye into my veins.

The problem was that the young nurse missed the vein and started wiggling the needle around in my arm. I said, "Okay, this isn’t working. Pull that thing out." I guess I upset her, but hey, it’s my arm she was practicing on. She left and returned with another nurse. He couldn’t find a vein either, but at least he hadn’t stuck the needle in yet. I was watching and said, "Hey, look at the back of my hand—the veins are sticking up, you can see them. Put the needle in one of those."

He responded, "Well, that’s a very tender area, and you’ll have a sore spot there."

I said, "Oh well, it’s better than you folks playing 'pin the tail on the patient.'" So, he did it. Then he told me, "You’ll feel warm from the dye; it makes you feel like you’re peeing your pants."

I thought, "That sounds like fun," but he added, "We give you something else to prevent that."

Ten minutes later, I was done. The nurse asked, "Did you feel the warmth?"

I said, "Nope, didn’t feel anything warm."

He seemed confused and said, "You should have."

"Well, I didn’t. Can I leave now?"

"You may experience blurry vision for about half an hour, so sit for a minute."

"I don’t see anything blurry, I’m fine." He just looked at me like I was some kind of mystery. I got up and left—no blurry vision, no accidents.

We’ll get the results by Thursday when we go back in to see the surgeon. That was more fun than taking your clothes off.

—Elmer

 

Good luck, E. I'm rooting for you.

 

Results?

 

Yes, I got the results. The cancer hasn’t spread in the colon. The doctor did an exam to locate the tumor, and it turned out to be further up than he initially thought, which is good news—at least I won’t need a colostomy bag.

There won’t be any surgery, but I’ll have five weeks of daily radiation, followed by six sessions of chemo every two weeks, stretching the treatment into spring of next year. If the cancer is eliminated, there will still be five more years of monitoring to make sure it doesn’t come back.

The cost of traveling every day alone is going to drain the pockets, but thankfully, we drive a hybrid car.

Elmer

 

Even if the treatment is going to be a real grind, it sounds like you managed to catch it early, which is great news.

 

Truth be known, it was Mrs. Elmer who caught it. When the diarrhoea started, she knew something wasn't right. How true that was. My rock, my best friend always there. Love her dearly.