Tag: Wellness

Categories
Biohacking Politics

Day 1990 and Exhausting Exertions in Life and The AI Wars

I am so very tired. I haven’t felt the sort of down trodden fatigue that hit me today in a little over two months. That’s a long stretch of functionality for me. I am grateful for it and pray I am better once I’m rested. Or once my period hits I’m likely to feel better as my luteal phase is a real bitch. PMS needs a cure.

I am crediting my long stretch of functionality and energy (which I immediately put to use working longer hours and traveling) to the introduction of a peptide stack that replaced my IL-17 inhibitor. I’ve run the gamut through the IL inhibitors along with a myriad of other biologics.

Ironically the peptide I’m crediting with my improvements doesn’t even work on the IL-17 pathway. How’s that for kicks? My bloodwork has never looked so good and I’ve never had so few side effects.

I was suppressing a pathway that was very specific when there were cheaper short chain options I could have worked with further up the anti-inflammatory pathways and potentially closer to the source. I am my own science experiment.

I admit to being a bit vague here for fear that the days of open discourse on biohacking may be over and insurance, pharmaceutical companies and the government regulatory bodies will all look askance at efforts to heal oneself under the auspices of consumer safety. What they mean is they won’t profit so handsomely even if we achieve better results.

I had been running a piece of deep research on the latest and greatest large language model to collect what precious little data we have on my peptide stack when I hit my daily usage limits. The free tokens were hooking addicts.

Oh well I thought, it will run when my daily allotment resets. Then the model was slammed by restrictions in Europe. And then the model was shutdown for users entirely. There goes my query!?!

The model wars are here, and it’s ugly for anyone who might want to research biomedical science. Or anything the owners of the models deem to be sufficiently unsafe for you the idiot user. And you wonder why I was so keen on Montana’s right to compute law.

Anyone who has worked in technology long enough to see Uncle Sam have a fight with a corporate “Trust and Safety” team can tell you how this fight goes. Bitter, protracted and it can cost a small fortune to survive if you are a startup.

It’s not entirely clear how this fight will end. But I can’t say I’m very happy about how it’s going. And I’m so very tired of the fight. It’s been ongoing my entire life and I see no signs of it stopping. This is just an other chapter in the future and its enemies.

Categories
Biohacking Travel

Day 1984 and Whimsy Exhaustion Efforts

My sleep has been really poor as I’ve been jaunting about pretending to be a Eurotrash island hopper for a week or so. It’s both glorious but a little concerning as restorative sleep is crucial.

I’ve not gone as long and as hard as I have this late spring into summer since I was diagnosed with an autoimmune condition. A condition that seems to have potentially gone into remission.

And I’m trying not to worry. Something about late evening sunsets extending daylight, last week’s brilliant full moon lighting up the bay over Corfu all through the night, and the intense physical combination of swimming, talking, and eating communally has made it feel like I’ll can’t come down at night.

A late sunset over Greece turns to moonrise all too quickly leaving bright light at all turns

Last night I fell asleep as the sun was rising around 4am despite doing everything I could to be asleep earlier. I got in bed at 10pm with a boom, did vagal nerve exercises and breathing, took an OTC sleeping pill and a Benadryl, used only red lights past sunset, and wore earplugs and eye mask. I was doing it all right and my body’s response was all wrong.

So today I am aggressively injecting whimsy and exertion into my day with the hope that the risk of a flare in my conditions will be mitigated by the efficacy of my peptide protocol. My sleep was most disturbed up on my pulse off days so perhaps as I pulse back on into the week it will be better?

My logic is simple. Surely a messed up circadian rhythm is more dangerous than running around getting my steps, buying little treats at Flying Tiger (a forever travel notebook?!) and doing mat Pilates with travel bands. I couldn’t possibly flare myself with that kind of gentle whimsy exhaustion as my nervous system isn’t being pounded by training but extended gently with enjoyment.

Categories
Aesthetics Biohacking Travel

Day 1979 and A Bathing Suit I Can Now Wear

My health must really be on the mend. Not so long ago (a thousand days or so) I could not tolerate wearing a bathing suit as the compression of the material hurt so badly.

Heat and sun only added insult to injury as my body struggled to manage inflammation. I had purchased a bathing suit I loved that became known as “the bathing suit I never wore” as I was simply packing it as an aspirational garment.

It was packed carefully in my suitcase trip after trip, in the hopes that I might have a good day without pain. Years went by and I never wore it. It was a sad joke. Not for aesthetics or vanity, but for the cruel pain that poor health puts you through.

If you go through the tags on the blog for ankylosing spondylitis you will see a journey of some length. The blog chronicles it from its starting years and, one day I hope, to its finish. I’ll may never be cured but I am finally living again.

The pale blue Ionian coastal waters protected from development and over traffic contain a beautiful array of fishes

I know it sounds silly that being able to wear a bathing suit without pain is a huge milestone, but I was unable to participate in the most basic outdoor activities with my own family.

A bathing suit was an aspirational garment not because I too afraid to be seen in it, but because the compression along my rib cage and spine hurt so badly.

And today I was on a boat for four straight hours including jumping off into the warm aquamarine waters of protected coastal Ionian water.

Nothing hurt at all. And I am not on any immune suppressant drugs at all at the moment. I am not on antibiotics. I am on a simple peptide regime. And now my swimsuit is being worn so often I need a second one so it can dry.

A halter top from Norma Kamali and a hat from a tourist shop.

Categories
Aesthetics Biohacking

Day 1975 and Pool Blues

Having decided to take a proper break I am going all in on making sure my body and mind get the proper signs and signifiers to just let go.

My first activity after a long mess of travel was to sleep for an impossibly long term. Whoop approvingly noted that my 11 hours and fifteen minutes was the longest I’d slept all month.

Low stress, a green recovery and plenty of hours of deep and REM sleep

I know they say you should stick to a regular sleep schedule. I generally have a firm bedtime just past 9:30pm and will sleep nine hours if I can.

But between conferences with evening events, long drives late into the night and an eight hour time difference I was carrying a sleep deficit that needed to be remedied.

My next order of business was equally taxing. I booked a spa appointment for a pedicure and a waxing. Fresh toes and a clean bikini line seemed like just the trick before laying out on a pool lounger or on a beach.

Not that anyone will be taking too close a look at me but I like feeling as if I’ve cared for the little details. Cosmetics and beauty are more of a way of appreciating my own body than adhere to someone else’s preferences.

I usually wear a very basic nude shade on my toes. I almost never do my hands but I appreciate a but I felt like I needed something more Ionian in quality or perhaps one of David Hockney’s pools.

A bit of pool blue lacquer

Normally I wouldn’t go quite so exotic on a pedicure as I’m much more basic in my preferences but if I have a chance to stare out at wine dark sea over an aquamarine pool I may as well make the most of the experience.

Blue on blue on blue as an example
Categories
Biohacking Chronic Disease Emotional Work

Day 1964 and We Are Who We Tell Ourselves To Be

No one likes a gloomy Gus. The downside of chronicling a chronic disease is the risk of seeing yourself as only the illness. Then other people will see you that way too. And so your identity becomes tied with only one of the many aspects of your life, and often the worst one at that.

Thankfully most humans are centered enough on themselves to forget the occasional gloomy reality from someone outside of their daily lives.

But repetition becomes reality, and eventually we are who we believe ourselves to be because others believe we are who we say we are too.

I came across a startup who is working on one of those classic swamp problems that seems like a great idea until you are well and truly stuck in the muck with bad incentives and no good solutions.

They want to use artificial intelligence to help patients with chronic diseases or complex medical cases to codify the many little details that might add up to the clues that crack the case.

By tracking subject inputs (unstructured data) and overlaying it with the other biometrics gathered by wearables and bloodwork they can help patients. I’ve seen hundreds of variants of this over the years.

Alas this new startup seems to have discovered a flywheel for marketing that relies on the problem I began today’s post with. We believe what we tell ourselves we are and eventually other people will believe what we believe.

They have chosen to market the app with illness influencers. Yes, that’s an actual category of influencer on TikTok and Instagram. Hot girls all have vague chronic illnesses these days haven’t you noticed?

And so a community forms and reinforces the identity that they all share. They are sick. And that makes them special. This gives life meaning. And did I mention lots of pretty girls have the most esoteric and exiting problems? Click to join now!

I find this to be a troubling, even borderline dangerous, approach to anchoring a community meant to help patients advocate better for care with their own personal health records. The incentive to remain with the privileged identity that makes them special only increases over time. Women reinforce themselves into intensely held identities all the time.

I thought about reaching out to them but I don’t want to get tangled with this problem. It is one for professionals which neither myself nor these founders are aside from everyone being a patient with chronic illness.

I do not wish for my identity to be the sick woman. The woman whose life was upended by a fertility protocol gone wrong in the early years of her marriage and in the prime of her life.

It’s one aspect of my reality. I do want others to be saved from my fate so I share it. But it is not who I am. Julie is not a sick woman. Julie is a complicated individual with a beautiful life and family and portfolio.

I had my own glimmer of hope today. Though I have repeated my troubles with my medical history I have never felt it was my identity. I’d happily give it up if I find a path to wellness. And I spend so much of my life trying to walk out of my troubles.

I have walked many side roads and pursued quixotic quests to find health. And some days I even find it. Today I got very good news on a fresh round of bloodwork. I’ve felt recently felt well thanks to some changes and an aggressive pursuit of new modalities.

I never want to get my hopes up too high as this effort has been a rollercoaster of ups and downs. But I won’t let go of the hope. The mere idea that this chapter could close and I might be a healthy woman is an identity I’d gladly welcome. And I’d wish that for anyone who takes on illness as a part of their identity.

Categories
Culture Medical

Day 1962 and Piss in a Can

Women are at a bit of a disadvantage to men when it comes to relieving ourselves. Yes I am talking about taking a piss.

From road trips to the backcountry, we’re forced to hike up our skirts (or worse shimmy down our pants) and aim our stream through squat & thrust such that it lands where we desire without soiling our garments or surrounding areas.

You might be wondering why I’ve got such a urological topic on my mind. And I might remind you it is not as if my writing lacks for lewd colloquialisms. Some readers may recall my viral hit “dick riding” so if you are inclined towards Freud we can have a chuckle about penis envy. And today it might even be true.

I am at the moment stuck in a literal can. I am nearing the end of a session of hyperbaric chamber oxygen therapy. To be specific, my 27th session on my second round of the therapy. My first round of it was forty sessions last fall. I am rounding the end of my second set in the next two weeks.

I happen to feel dare I say good this most recent round of HBOT. It’s a marvel what it can do for the lungs and for healing wounds. However I can’t credit my current upswing just to the oxygen I’m breathing in while under two atmospheres of pressure.

I have gone off my biological injection Bimzelx after a frightful year of infections despite its excellent ability to squash down inflammatory biometrics like CRP and sed rate. I’ve added in hormone therapy via testosterone and estradiol pellets (also my second round of them). The big change is that I am heading into my forth week of injecting experimental peptides.

Those had a hell of an adjustment, but seem to have done absolutely everything which was claimed by their champions in terms of anti-inflammatory benefits. Alas I am not sure if I should discuss them too much lest I get in trouble for being ahead of the insurance rackets. My doctor supervised and approved of them which should be good enough but one never knows.

That was a long way of saying that this combination of discontinuing old expensive therapies and adding in new cheaper less expensive treatments is adding up to a lot more mobility and capacity for me.

So today I went hiking and I lifted weights. Actual under the bar squats in my own rack like an actual human. The kind of active life that I’ve been desperately trying to regain for years.

So I’ve drank rather a lot of water today. More than perhaps I should have, as here I am in a pressurized can absolutely desperately wishing I could urinate.

Alas I am waiting the timer praying for decompression to arrive so I can relieve myself in a proper water closest. And thus we circle back to the penis envy.

It’s just that I have an empty can in here with me, it’s not out of the question I could find relief in that manner. Perhaps I’d have a better treatment. My heart rate is higher than I’d like and my bladder is unhappy about the pressure. But I’ve got no aim and little room for error.

Just imagine the smell. If urine smells in a well ventilated area like a roadside rest stop, just imagine how it might smell in a pressurized tube. It’s not a place you want to fart I’ll tell you that much. So wetting the blankets, upholstery, and my clothing in here would be a disaster. I’d never get the smell out.

So here I am laughing to myself about wanting to piss in a can. Maybe a good reminder to buy one of those hiking helper devices for women. You never know what kind of situation I may find myself in this summer if I can actually move my body comfortably again.

Categories
Biohacking Chronic Disease

Day 1950 and No Sleep in the Long Hours

I seem to have accidentally fallen into polyphasic sleep. Those experimental not for human consumption, long amino acid chains that everyone is doing n of 1 research with?

Well, my n of 1 experiment seems to be yielding the occasionally odd sleep pattern. I’ll be up early after having a night of sleep that feels more nap than fully weighed sleep hours.

Think out by 9pm and awake before dawn. I feel fine, so I pack in the full day till around 3pm when lunch digestion & the general slumps have me saying “maybe a short nap.”

I’ll find myself popping back up at 6pm with an eye on dinner. Another accidental siesta has stolen the afternoon hours back from the long evening hours to which I’d applied them.

I won’t have any trouble going to sleep on time early. This pattern seems to be applied to days where I have a lot of physical strain.

If I get in a workout, a long shower, extra walking time, and other physically demanding tasks in alongside my mental work I end up needing the nap and still fall asleep on time.

Categories
Biohacking Chronic Disease

Day 1948 and Rotational Work

I’ve been struggling with migraines since I was diagnosed with an autoimmune condition maybe six or so years ago.

I seem to be particularly struggling with them the last two months, as I work through an experiment with hormonal balancing and tapering off biologic autoimmune inhibitors.

And so I am rotating various different activities every day in the hopes of avoiding triggering a migraine, while still getting in adequate movement and exercise, as well as treatments within the biomechanical profile that I have put together with my doctors and helpful AIs.

If I stuff too many experiments into a given day, I’ll almost surely end up with a migraine. Even if I only do one sometimes I get unlucky. Red light and infrared are, of course, a classic way to trigger a migraine, so I try to do those carefully and when my heart rate is stable and low.

Of course, sometimes you need to get your heart rate up, and there’s nothing you can do but get your exercise and hope it won’t trigger a migraine. Afterwards exertion when I have a need to get down my heart rate, I’ll try to mix that with my hyperbaric oxygen chamber therapy.

I’m in the middle of my second round of HBOT treatments and enjoying seeing things like my VO2 max improve. I’ll be tempted to do something like go for a longer walk to test my lungs and trigger some neck compensation, and then I’ll be right back where I started with a migraine.

I’m always rotating something in and around keeping my brain from feeling the pressure of my body’s adjustments. There is no stable equilibrium just the constant pressure to find a new balance.

Categories
Biohacking Chronic Disease Medical

Day 1945 and Always Adjusting

I am adjusting, yet again, to a new set of daily protocols in my never-ending attempt to improve my health. I am experimenting with peptides but don’t tell anyone. I’ve also got a hormone experiment in its second round.

I am trying to get healthier, but that suggests it is even an achievable goal. It would be wonderful to get back to endless working hours or even just eight hours on my feet.

Every time I make a tweak to my routines and I see a change in my biometrics, it’s becomes eventually cause for concern. There’s no stable equilibrium to be found, and I know that’s part of life, but I’d like a stable equilibrium that’s a little bit better than one day at a time or ideally a couple weeks at a time.

Take my experiment with Bimzelx. Even when I achieve an outcome like getting my CRP rates into the normal bounds, it came at a cost that is simply too high to maintain. I had four separate incisions and surgeries last year from soft tissue infections.

What good is a drug that tamps down my immune system so much that I need to always go under the knife? It was like Goodhart’s Law came to haunt me personally.

I am going off the biologic (I am 12 weeks from my last injection) and already seeing change in the wrong direction. Not enormously bad but my immune system will pop if it’s not locked down.

Yet there’s very little I can do except keep going and hope that the balance will be more manageable, as I don’t know that I could have another year like 2025 again.

I set out trying to reboot my immune system last year, and it certainly seems like it worked. But can I keep the numbers in a place that are low enough to let me live, and ideally live with fewer medications?

I am constantly working against some new tweak or some new problem, and even little gentle experiments like a Pilates reformer workout or 10 minutes on the trampoline can turn into a full-day migraine if I am not immediately able to tamp it down. Thoracic pain will pop up crushing my breathing if I take a nice slow hike in the pastures beyond our house

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Uncategorized

Day 1942 and Deep Sleep Sunday

Yesterday I was firing off zingers left and right like some kind of Internet Yosemite Sam hollering like cartoon frontier gunslinger.

Hair trigger with a side of facial hair

I am displeased with how silly things have become as I ponder the downsides of things falling apart and the upside of accelerating into the turn. That darn rabbit though right?

So this afternoon with some intentions of productivity on my mind, it only makes sense that I passed out sometime after lunch. I got an hour of deep sleep in the mid afternoon. Which is upsettingly more than I got the entire night before.

Don’t mind the alarmingly high heart rate

My heart rate was racing but my body did not care. I’d been exposed to too much autonomic stress the past couple of days and it was just done with letting that happen.

They say Sunday is a day of rest but that is because we are meant to use our response to consider the things that matter most in life. Family, faith and in some cases football. But I spent it passed out in a dark room without a thought in my mind. I hope it helped.