For everyone who's been asking "what's going on," and "how can we help."

A lot has happened since that delectable brunch of Cornmeal Pear Pancakes a month ago.

• The American Cancer Society closed out a successful breast cancer awareness month, Making Strides across New York and New Jersey with hundreds of thousands of extraordinary people. 
• I stopped working one hundred hours a week and took a few days off to catch up on sleep. 
• Corrin and I attended birthday parties and game nights and a tremendously fabulous Hallowe'en dance with various groups of friends, and celebrated at work in costume as Buffy the Vampire Slayer (her) and Gene Kelly (me). 
• Along with that, I learned that my girlfriend can carve deadly weapons with her bare hands and took a solemn, silent oath never to make her angry. 
• I've started to get back on track with my volunteer work, though not as far as I'd like. 
• I've done a bit of travel for work, including a trip to Albany that allowed for a brief but lovely visit with my parents and the chance to have breakfast with three most adorable little boys. 
• I've begun teaching fiber arts (crochet and embroidery), and have realized that I love spending time with new people and becoming friends, and remembered that I truly hate teaching. You'd think that I wouldn't need a reminder of the reason I dropped out of my PhD program...
• I've broadened the scope of information I take in during the day beyond public health policy and nonprofit development once again (that always takes a hit in September and October) and grew ragey about Israeli-Palestinian relations and the stagnant peace talks in which no one gives a millimeter (and every other publicized violent conflict in which collaboration could be the magical key to happiness and comfort for all); the disaster that is our electoral system in the United States and the utterly stupid behavior around election day; state versus federal politics and the rampant corruption throughout both; social inequities on the macro and micro levels, some closer to home than is pleasant to think about for long; and the inexplicable, nonsensical, horrifying tendency of my christian friends to strap blame for all of the horrors of the world on their own shoulders while never accepting praise for the wonderful work they accomplish every day.
• I started keeping a daily journal at 750words.com, which has been satisfying and soul-deepening, and also explains why I haven't been writing for public consumption.
• I've been thinking (and talking) about family and children and parenting in the context of personal and social responsibility, and getting over the subjective anxiety caused by my lifelong stance on "no children for me, no way, no how" becoming "yes, please, but just one" -- and then moving on to read all manner of psycho- and sociological studies about quantifiable happiness and the various social constructs of the family unit.

And I've also been steadily and rather rapidly developing some ... "sicknesses" and "diseases" are absolutely the wrong words, so I'm going to go with "physiological disorders" for now.

I worked myself impossibly hard through September and October, and fell right into my usual routine of demanding that my body keep up with my brain no matter what the cost.  By mid-October I was tired, but seemingly no more or less exhausted than I usually am after a five- or six-week  push through a stressful time with a great deal at stake.  "Seemingly" is the key word -- because in actuality there's a lot more going on than routine exhaustion.

On Friday, when the blood results from my annual physical came back from the lab, my primary care physician -- an absolutely amazing doctor in Manhattan whom I like and respect a great deal (incidentally, she's trying to convince me to get a public health degree from Johns Hopkins to work with her on epidemiological studies and international chronic disease management) -- diagnosed me with chronic Anemia, a severe Vitamin D deficiency, what she called "chronic" dehydration, and Lynch Syndrome.

I haven't done any research on Lynch Syndrome yet, other than to know that it's a hereditary predisposition to gastrointestinal cancers.  As a diagnosis, the only things to do about it are preventative in nature -- testing for gut cancers more regularly (think annually instead of every five years) and starting earlier in life (now for me at 31, rather than age 50 for most people), alter my diet to remove cow's milk products and beef/pork (which I've been doing for the last year anyway), do a 30 to 60 minute cardio workout that boosts my heartrate to the stratosphere every single day. Because it's only preventative and all lifestyle based, and because there are a lot of other things that require urgent attention, I'm not doing anything to address this at the moment -- per doctor's orders.

Instead, I'm on a four-week plan of what she calls Aggressive Iron Replacement Therapy -- a prescription to stop all bleeding, high dose (prescription) Iron supplements every four hours, high dose cholecalciferol Vitamin D supplements every four hours, Calcium supplements daily, 30 minutes of direct sun exposure every day (to increase the Vitamin D absorption), and 20 to 30 minutes of yoga every day (to strengthen and protect my joints from all of the supplements), and to drink eight ounces of water every hour on the hour until I've trained myself to give myself water even when my body isn't giving me a signal that it's necessary. After four weeks, my blood work will be checked again to chart progress from these therapies -- at which point this will be working and I'll continue it for the next six months, or it won't and we'll move on to other options (that we haven't discussed yet).  In either case, after four weeks I'll have a full work-up by a hematologist to determine if the Anemia is chronic and reached a tipping point because of the dietary changes I've made in the last year or if something caused an acute change in the low iron levels I've seen my entire life, and a full work-up by a gastroenterologist to monitor the potential side effects of this therapy (stomach ulcers, colon lesions from constipation (caused by rapid iron supplementation)) and to develop a plan for dealing with the Lynch Syndrome (for which I'll have to be retested by him to rule out a false positive).

This is not going to be fun, but the worst things about it are those that will hopefully heal soonest -- the symptoms I'm currently exhibiting that are totally normal for a person with these problems.

• I'm very, very tired all the time. Being a person who demands that my body keep up with me, this isn't something that seemed unusual, but it really is -- following instructions to lay down when I feel tired, I've slept more than forty hours in the last four days -- including a morning nap yesterday and an afternoon nap today. That's a pattern that will likely continue for at least the next month, if not longer.
• I'm routinely short of breath. Some of you may recall that I've been complaining for months about how winded I am after climbing stairs. It's not because I'm out of shape or lazy, as I kept berating myself for; it's because I don't have enough red blood cells to carry oxygen throughout my body, and my brain is screaming at my lungs to work harder.
• I'm regularly off balance. Those of you who've danced with me in the last two months may have noticed that I'm unsteady on my feet when it comes to twirling or executing flourishes as a follow -- which may explain why I've been so edgy and anxious and flat out angry about dancing this fall, although I didn't exactly realize how or why. The lack of blood causes unsteadiness and a lack of balance, for which the rest of my body then overcompensates. I'm *really* looking forward to carrying less muscle tension in my shoulder, neck, and hips -- the result of keeping myself steady when my legs aren't able to do their job.

I've gotten lots and lots of requests for "how can I help?"

• If you're my friend, continue to be my friend! Spend time with me, chat, visit, socialize, plan fun things and continue to invite me -- I'll come if I can. Please understand if I can't attend -- particularly if you're planning a ten-mile hike through Central Park, or a marathon dancing event in the middle of the night -- but don't assume that I don't want to hang out with you, or that I'm too sick to worry about dealing with an invitation.
• If you're a colleague, continue to treat me the same as you always have.  I don't need to be treated with kid gloves, and I'm still very capable of doing my job. I'm working hard to keep a good handle on what I can and can't do, so I'll be very honest with you. At the same time, know that for the first time in my career I have to take a lunch break every day -- so that I can go outside and get the sunlight I need, and so that I can hide in a conference room and do some yoga stretches.  I won't be as available during the workday as I usually am, but I will still put the same amount of effort into everything that I do. Also, I probably won't be answering email at 11 at night or 2 in the morning, because I'll be asleep. If you're used to emailing me when you have an emergency, please call instead.
• If you spend time with me, feel free to ask how I'm doing -- or remind me to have a drink of water! If you want to join me for yoga or some afternoon sunshine, please do -- I'll be in the picnic area at Herald Square during lunchtime. If you want to dance with me, please ask -- but know that I'm a little slower and more careful than usual, and feel safer leading.
• If you see Corrin, give her a hug. She's amazing, and while I'm thanking her for existing and loving me every single day, she could probably use a bit of a "100% YOU" focused love and joy and support.

And thank you for asking, and caring, and being wonderful, gracious, lovely people.


First published at expetesso.com