What really makes me angry though, or rather seriously pissed off, is the fact that because of the doctor I can't even speak of without becoming infuriated.. they were now unable to pinpoint the exact time of occurrence of the infarction because the scarring was more than a month old by the time I had the MRI. According to my neurologist I should have been transferred to neurology immediately when I arrived at the ER with my symptoms, which apparently is typical symptoms of an infarct. Instead of doing an MRI, I was admitted to the pulmonary wing, and got stuck with a doctor who didn't take me seriously and pushed me so far down into the darkness that I nearly failed to find my way back up again.

So, apparently there's so way of knowing for sure when I had this infarction or blood clot in my brain then, but according to my neurologist it's very probable - judging from my symptoms - that it happened when I was first came into the ER back on October 28th 2010. No actual harm was done by not doing the MRI at once, and I was put on an anticoagulant in March, but it maddens me that I was treated like an idiot instead of being taken seriously. And I don't doubt for a second that I had a guardian angel watching over me. I've asked to be transferred back to my old hospital, because I like it there. I feel safe, I'm respected and heard, taken seriously, and they've done a lot for me over the years. When I moved to Trondheim back in 2006 I actually didn't want to switch hospitals, but I thought it would be better, safer and easier to have my doctors close by. If I had known back then what I know now, I would never have transferred to St. Olavs Hospital.

I wish I could say I was done with this whole ordeal, but there's still things going on. Matters that bring me down, confuses me, and make me feel all empty inside. Things I wish hadn't happened, matters I don't wanna think about - but somehow I need to muster up the strength, the courage to take on the fight and climb to the top of that hill, without giving up.

A little more than a week ago I went to a psychologist. I gave up on waiting for a possible solution to hit me over the head (and according to the psychiatrist my doctor tried to refer me to I'm way too healthy for even getting an appointment), so I went private and paid for the appointment myself. I might be somewhat judgmental, but I didn't have much faith when I scheduled the appointment. All I knew was that I didn't wanna see a psychiatrist. I didn't wanna see anyone with had the ability to put me on medication. I think it might be one of my biggest fears, to be medicated against my will I mean. I felt a little insecure as I entered his office, but it didn't bother me as I had imagined it would. I actually kinda enjoyed it. I tried to sum up most of what has happened during the last 12 months, told him about the infamous doctor, how she's treated me, about my thoughts and fears, and asked him if it's even possible that it's anxiety I'm experiencing. He asked me some questions, wanted me to elaborate on my feelings. We talked about symptoms, he explained how panic attacks and anxiety works, and said it was highly likely it's anxiety I'm struggling with. He achieved an extra gold star in my book, for stressing the importance of listening to my body, and questioning the doctors - and he told me to keep fighting, because I'm the one person who knows my body and how I really feel. I felt at least 10 tons lighter when I left his office, I'm not exaggerating. He recommended a book for me, "Full Catastrophe Living" by Jon Kabat-Zinn, a book I actually purchased earlier this year after watching a few documentaries about the human brain on TV. For a lot of reasons I hadn't started reading it yet, but now I've started and it seems quite interesting. After a whole 60 minutes with the psychologist I felt so much better, relieved, rejuvenated and ready for the next battle. I've never been more grateful for being told that I'm normal, with a normally functioning brain. Suddenly I didn't feel as lost anymore.

After having waited for nine whole months, I was finally scheduled for an ultrasound of my heart this Tuesday. I'm shaking my head as I type these words. I mean, how can it be healthy for someone to wait for several months for a heart examination? The most important part of the body, the heart. Nine months? I'm just glad I'm not suffering from a heart disease. Because I'm not. I had the most fantastic doctor, a calm and assuring man, who took his time and examined my heart thoroughly. When he was done he told me that my heart was fine. The size was normal, my heart valves were declared healthy, and so were my arteries - no problems at all. Apparently people with weaker lungs are prone to a certain heart problem (regarding lack of oxygen) and it somehow seemed like he anticipated to find this problem with me, but there was absolutely nothing wrong. I could have hugged the man! Naturally my heart acted exemplary while I was there, and my pulse was about 95. I also had an ECG, and a normal blood pressure. The only thing he was unable to say much about was whether or not I might have an arrhythmia, but he said it was unlikely. He gave me a little gadget to put against my chest whenever I feel like my heart is acting crazy, and it'll record everything. After five recordings I have to take it back to the hospital to get the results. Quite fascinating for a gadget whore like myself.

On Monday I decided to take back control, and after having discussed with my family I finally picked up the phone and called St. Olavs Hospital to tell them I won't be coming back. At least not to the pulmonary ward. I dreaded the call so much that I felt sick to my stomach, but when I hung up the phone I just sat there, smiling, feeling like the nurse on the other end actually understood why. It felt good. It felt right to follow my guts on this.

And again I have to stress how insanely wonderful it is to encounter doctors who actually listen to me, and who takes me seriously! The psychologist and the cardiologist, in addition to the nurse, made me feel so much better than anyone else has managed for the last 12 months, just by making me feel like I'm important, that my life is important - as opposed to me being a lesser being who's going to die soon anyway. Even though my days are still filled with struggles to get through, sometimes feeling so crappy it's almost impossible to get out of bed, I'm all-in-all feeling a lot more like my old self again. I've rekindled my will to fight, my will to be heard and seen, and most importantly.. my will to live.

I'm not writing this post because I feel like I owe anyone any explanations, but seeing that a written medium like a blog lacks both facial expressions and tone of voice when trying to communicate something to my readers, I just wanted to put my thoughts into words, or at least try to. I'm not superficial, and I'm not rich, I just found a way to cope though a whole year of frustrations, hardships and my own personal hell. And materialistic or not, it really did its part in helping me fight through the darkest of days.

Haul: M·A·C Paint Pots

M·A·C hasn't released anything lately that has really captured my attention, I've found their new collections both boring and blah.. in general, but when Posh Paradise came out with eight new Paint Pots even I couldn't resist getting a few of them. I have a kind of ambivalent relationship with Paint Pots. I'm not very big on using bases when I do my makeup (a primer is a must though), and I absolutely hate "Painterly" - a so-called 'Holy Grail' base for many makeup lovers out there.

The other day I looked through my spreadsheet - yes, I have a spreadsheet for my makeup collection - where I counted 10 Paint Pots, plus these three new ones, and I'm embarrassed to confess that most of them remain unused. I think the main reason is that I tend to steer away from time-consuming activities like putting down a base, but I've promised myself to start using these more often. I have a lot of good ones in my collection, and I really don't want to see them go to waste. At least I'm honest, as opposed to in denial.

Idylic · Pure Creation · Imaginary

I wasn't planning on getting anything from Posh Paradise, but since things seldom go as I plan, I ended up choosing "Idyllic" (mid-tone copper bronze), "Pure Creation" (mid-tone frosty blue) and "Imaginary" (blackened navy). These colors are beautiful! Maybe especially "Imaginary", just take a look at these swatches by Jennifae. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I decided on "Pure Creation" though, but if you have any good ideas on how to use it.. feel free to leave me a comment below!

Did you get anything from M·A·C Posh Paradise?

Photo © Shamini Thevarajah '11

Haul: M/S Color Magic

I was planning on showing you what I purchased on M/S Color Magic, since I visited the duty-free on-board a couple of times. Roughly. I'm not a big fan of mixing up my posts like this, talking about my health and makeup in the same breath, but today I don't care - and I'm blaming it on being sick. So I picked up three items this time. The first item, which I actually went on a hunt for, was the Dior 3 Couleurs Smoky in "291 Smoky Navy". I wasn't able to get the promo picture from Dior Blue Tie off my mind, that fierce blue smokey eye is truly breathtaking, but since I didn't really like the Blue Tie palette, I settled for the smaller and a bit cheaper one. Sure, the compact is gorgeous - who can resist the shininess? I don't know if it's accurate, but when comparing swatches of the two palettes, I think the two main colors in "Smoky Navy" are the same as two of the colors in the Blue Tie palette.

The second item I decided to spend a little fun money on was the "Sweet Butterfly" palette from Lancôme, a travel exclusive. I cannot remember when or where I saw the "La Rose Butterfly" blush for the first time, but when I saw it displayed at the duty-free I wanted to pick it up. "La Rose Butterfly" was released with Ultra Lavande from spring 2011. This is one of those items I just like looking at because I think it's beautiful, and might not have the heart to stir. The blush itself has some kind of multicolored glittery overspray, which I personally don't appreciate very much, but it makes it look quite stunning in the correct lighting.

Apart from these two items I purchased an Elizabeth Arden Eight Hour Cream Lip Protectant Trio (special value). I'm always on the lookout for a good lip balm, and according to MakeupAlley it seems to be a good product as it's average rating is 4.0 - worth a shot anyway! Lastly I picked up a tub of Clarins HydraQuench Cream SPF15, recommended by Fieran, to try with my eczema. And guess what? It worked like a charm, and I'm forever grateful for the tip! Unfortunately I managed to ruin my summer tan this year as well by scratching my forehead sore, but maybe next year?

Now it's time to ignore this bloody cold, and focus on the several exciting things I have to look forward to. Hopefully Mr. Postman will stop by with a package from Amira tomorrow, and then I'll have a few more things to show you. And I'll finally have the second duo from Electric Tropics, the gorgeous Dior Vernis 558 Paradise, in my collection - thanks to Amira, who worked her magic and got it for me! I still have a few Chanel palettes from this summer I haven't posted, but I need to have another photoshoot first. And who knows, maybe Mr. Postman will bring me something else as well?

Photos © Shamini Thevarajah '11

When the results from the blood work came back it turned out I was seriously low on vitamin D, so I was told to start a supplement. I was also told to keep in mind that since I'm in a wheelchair (apparently meaning I'm sick), turning older and certainly in the risk of getting osteoporosis (both postmenopausal and in general), I should take a calcium supplement as well. Sure. I have fallen out of my wheelchair so many times I've lost count. I've smashed my head into both tile, wooden and stone floors, yes.. smashed, I will never forget the sound of my skull hitting the rock hard floor. I've crushed my fingers into concrete walls. I've suffered from so severe pneumonia that my mom had to put pressure on my chest to help me cough, several times. And I have never, ever broken a single bone in my body. Never.

At the time I was feeling helpless. I was feeling insecure, and afraid. I knew something wasn't right, so I was willing to try just about anything to get back to normal as soon as possible. As I said, this was back in the beginning of January, it's now been seven months. I trusted the nutritionist who "prescribed" 1000mg calcium and 25µg vitamin D. I started taking supplements, and drinking one nutrition drink each day. The first problem I encountered was the racing heart I've mentioned before. It persisted for about a month, and I felt like I had been running a marathon for every single day of that month. No one answered my questions, nothing was done. All I was told was that I have bad lungs, and to face the fact and deal with it. I was drinking one Nutridrink each day, until I one day - for some unknown reason - decided to stop. They didn't make me feel any better, and I couldn't get myself to like them either. The very next day my heart slowed down, and within another day it had stopped racing. I suddenly realized that these high protein nutrition drinks with 300 cal (and 12g protein) per unit had been too hard for my body to digest, causing my heart to speed on with around 145 beats per minute.. At first I was so happy to have found the cause of it, then I felt devastated because it had been scaring the crap out of me, and now I'm just mad. Mad that they actually caused me more pain, more suffering, more anxiety, more insecurity. Like I didn't have enough to deal with.

Now, back to the supplements. I've been taking one Calcigran (500mg calcium and 5µ vitamin D) and one vitamin D (10µ) for some time now, after the nutritionist informed me that my vitamin D levels was back to normal. As most of you know, I've been feeling unwell in general. I've been dizzy, nauseous, felt bloated, instead of feeling hunger I've felt sick (both before and after meals), and I've had this odd feeling of something humming inside my head. It's seriously hard to explain, but like the sound you can hear and almost feel when you're standing close to an electrical fence. You know what I mean? I've had problems concentrating, remembering things, headaches, and so on. A little more than two weeks ago I stopped taking the calcium supplements. I started wondering if maybe the extra calcium could be doing this to me? I googled it, and realized that some of the symptoms of too high intake of calcium looked very similar to what I was experiencing, and I made a decision to stop. Worth a try, right? About four days later the humming inside my head disappeared. The same humming I thought I would have to live with, and grow accustomed to, for the rest of my life. Now, a little more than two weeks later, I'm feeling so much better! I'm smiling a lot, feeling happy for absolutely no reason at all. Life is suddenly good again! I have no guarantee it won't return, it might just be a coincidence, but I sure as hell won't start back on the calcium supplements until it does. And once again I'm mad that they caused me more pain, more problems, more obstacles to conquer just to be able to live through the day.

Through all these months, with the suffering, fear and frustration I've been experiencing, I've discovered that I have to be my own doctor. I have to trust my gut feeling, and try to work out my problems on my own. Because no one else will hear me.

Then all hell broke loose. I was sure our vacation was ruined after only three mere days in Paris, that we would have to go home to get the wheelchair repaired, and I didn't dare to move around much because of the smell of burning plastic and the screeching noise. It was late, too late to call any offices back in Norway, so we had to call the emergency number (if you experience any emergencies with your aids). Naturally the person answering didn't know anything about anything, but he opened up a case and asked us to call back the next day. So much for emergencies. He did fill out a requisition, so when we called Permobil the morning after, they could start working on a solution straight away. Now, finding the right people isn't always easy, and we ended up calling Oslo, then Sweden, then France, and lastly Oslo again before we got in contact with an extraordinary man who made a few phone calls on our behalf - and did a lot of magic. After a few calls back and forth we were told that the man in Paris was in a meeting, which would take all day, so our hope to get it fixed before Bastille Day was running out.. Luckily he called us back that very afternoon. He said it could be difficult to arrange because of the bank holiday since the needed spare parts were in Lyon, but he would do his best to find a solution for us. One hour later he called back and told us that it had been arranged, so a repair man would be at our hotel between 9 and 10 AM the following day. I can honestly said that was the most nerve-wrecking hours I've experienced in a long time!

Wednesday morning he arrived as promised, the hotel management gave him an empty room to work in, and he changed both motors of my wheelchair in about four hours. He then brought my wheelchair back, asked me to test it and check for abnormalities while he had lunch close to the hotel. I tested it, found a few minor issues that he fixed when he came back, and then everything was back to normal again! I was immensely happy, and I really couldn't thank our repair man enough. I'm forever grateful for all the help we received from both Hjelpemiddelsentralen (fixing all requisitions needed) and Permobil, you guys are utterly fantastic. And our french repair man? Extraordinaire! The very best there is.

.. and they all lived happily ever after ..

I'm not so sure I'll live to see flying cars anymore, or more realistically live to become an old wrinkly grandma figure, mostly because a certain fiendish doctor had me convinced for a while that I'm already standing with one foot in the grave. I think I've managed to dig myself out of that hole, and I certainly don't have St. Olavs Hospital to thank for that. Now it's time to look forward instead of backwards, think positive and I'll deal with the rest when I come home from vacation.

You might wonder what my results said? Traces of an infarction or blood clot in the right part of my cerebellum. It might seem like I'm a very lucky woman girl. I don't have any more details as of now because my neurologist on temporary leave, but I'll do another update as soon as I know more. In the meantime I'm on medication, feeling sorry for myself, trying to think about something completely different.

What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.
Isn't that the way the saying goes?

I've back at the hospital for the MRI since the last time I wrote anything, but I don't have any results to share as of yet. Maybe in a couple of weeks. Having the MRI was an unusual experience. It was interesting, loud and noisy, fun and a bit claustrophobic. Not that I'm claustrophobic, but I do understand how some people freak out while inside the machine. The radiologist was very nice, and I had no problem staying still for the duration of the examination. In a way I'm hoping that the results will confirm a stroke, since that would explain why I suddenly got sick last fall - but on the other hand I think knowing that I actually had a stroke at 31 would be terrifying. No need to worry yet, I'll have to hear what the neurologist has to say first.

Apart from that I've been very effective lately. Since I had to remove my piercings before the MRI, I decided to take the opportunity to have the jewelery in my two most recent piercings changed and fitted. I was a little worried since my tragus seemed pretty unhealed still, but it turned out just fine. Now I'm wearing a standard 16g 8mm labret in my tragus, and a 14g 6mm labret in my lobe. The plan is still to exchange the labret for a tiny little ring, but I'll leave it alone until it's fully healed now that I'm wearing the correct size of jewelery. The following day, Thursday, I went back to the hairdresser. It feels like I was just there, but when I checked my calendar it turns out it's been almost three months already! I kept to the same style as last time, with undercuts and all, but this time I wanted it even shorter. I'm absolutely loving it, and I plan on keeping it like this for a while with minor tweaks only.

We even tried to attend the premiere of "Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides" in 3D, but apparently someone didn't want us to watch it and we had to go home without having taken part in the latest escapades of Captain Jack Sparrow. Sadface! After waiting for good news for about 30 minutes we were all told they were unable to start the movie, so they issued two free tickets for everyone present. Quite neat actually. We went back the next day and watched the movie successfully. I'm not sure whether or not I like this 3D business, I need time to adjust my eyes to the weirdness, but I liked the movie. I did miss William Turner and Elizabeth Swann though, but the mermaids were awesome. Somewhere in between everything I've mentioned above was Constitution Day, which we spent pretty much the same way as last year.

Did I say that nothing much has happened? Seems like I've been up to quite a lot!

So the last week or so I've felt pretty much like I used to before I started experiencing my own private little hell back in the end of October. I'm still scheduled for an MRI in the middle av May to find out more about the scarring, and I'm waiting for an appointment for another ultra sound of my heart. I occasionally still feel a little dizzy and nauseous, but it's not nearly as bad as it was. I also still have a few minor struggles, but it's nothing I won't be able to work through. Funny.. just when I was about to give up on the hope of ever feeling like myself again, something happened and I'm suddenly able to see a light at the end of the tunnel I thought would never end.

For the first time in many months, life feels good!