I get a lot of odd search terms (what people put into a search engine and find my blogs). But one of my all time favorites has been “If I eat a crow, will I get sick?” I mean, it’s a good idea to check before diving into strange meat to see if there are any standard precautions, y’know, like not eating raw chicken. And honestly, I’ve never done the homework to find out the answer to that time-old question. I mean, I figure any source of meat, if thoroughly cooked, is probably edible.
But that’s not what I wanted to write about today. It is, however, a someone apt title for my newest and most amusing symptom.
I know it’s been a long time since I’ve updated you guys on my medical situation, and part of that is because I’m in a state of limbo; a brand new, completely different, confounding medical problem has become the star attraction. I’m wary to say too much right now, because it’s in that stage where my new PCP just spouted a lot of guesses based on what they saw in my bloodwork and some of the things are game-changers. I’ll put it this way: the person who accompanied me to the appointment disagreed with my remembering of what the doctor said, so to be extra clear that I wasn’t worrying over nothing, I emailed her and got some clarification (I was right, if that matters.)
So the new issue is my blood. There is something funky with both my red blood cells and my white blood cells. The only white blood cell disease that has been ruled out is leukemia. The red blood cell problem is likely just anemia; but the biggest symptom is what I want to write about because I find it so damn funny.
Pica is a disorder I’ve found endlessly facinating since I was a child. I have even devoured every episode of “Strange Addiction”, as most follow a formula of “Person who does weird thing” followed by “Person who eats a nonfood substance” (like toilet paper, bathroom cleaner, or cornstarch). I once even asked a friend about a trend on the show, where African-American women were in the majority of the latter-half segments. She told me that, indeed, pica is common in African-American women (as the wikipedia article says), and that she herself had tried eating a non-food item after an errant craving.
My pica snuck up on me. Normally, when I’m at home, I don’t use ice in my drinks unless, for some reason, I have to drink water. (I really dislike water unless it is very cold.) But as the dog days of August came in, I started filling up my ice tea tumbler with ice cubes before adding the tea. Once the iced tea was gone, I would suck on a few ice cubes and maybe bite them so they would break into smaller pieces (making them easier to suck). As time wore on, I was putting less and less iced tea into the cup, and just filling it with ice so I could eat the ice. I didn’t think of this as “eating ice”, though; I still thought I was drinking iced tea.
It got to a point where I could no longer deny that I was now skipping the iced tea entirely and just eating huge cups of ice. I would wake up in the middle of the night because my craving for ice was so strong. Instead of pouring myself something to drink with meals, I would just pop an ice cube in my mouth every once in a while. Finally, Rave noticed the trend and decided a) this is a “thing” now, and b) we needed to get smaller ice cube trays so I didn’t break my teeth or hurt my jaw.
It seemed pretty harmless. I figured that it was, at the very least, upping my water intake. Almost every time I’ve been to the hospital or ER, I’ve been dehydrated. The last trip, in August, I was so dehydrated my urine was reddish orange. When I get in pain, I stop drinking. I don’t know why, but I do. And when I am super nauseous, the only liquid intake I can handle is ice, or water with a lot of ice.
It became such a habit that I would fill a mug with ice before going to bed, both so if I awoke wanting ice it would be there and so I could use the water in the morning to take my pills. Rave now makes sure I have a cup of ice at hand most of the time she is home.
I saw the doctor last week and I first brought up the restless legs. It is a symptom I get any time I go into opiate withdrawal, but I am currently on a low dose oxycontin regimen and have no withdrawal symptoms other than the RLS. It’s so bad that there are full nights I’ve lost sleep because every time I laid down I would reflexively start rocking my legs. Even when I’m sitting up, I get this crawly energy that runs up my calves. Nothing else relieves the sensation but moving my legs. I do use my foot bike when the feelings are overwhelming, and the fact that is has a backup motor (so if I don’t have the power to push the peddles against resistance, my legs will still go in circles) is super helpful in those times, especially at 3am when I’m exhausted and just want to go to sleep.
Between my odd bloodwork numbers and the RLS, she was already thinking that something is up. When I told her about the ice, it clinched it. I basically have all of the markers of iron deficiency. So that’s in the works.
However, the pica has “grown”, I guess. It’s hard for me to admit this, but I am trying to keep a lighthearted sense of humor about it because otherwise I would probably freak out to the point of uselessness. In the past two weeks, I’ve had cravings for dirt (another classic pica symptom), cigarette butts, and wanting to chew on wood. I have not given into any of these for obvious reasons, and when I get the odder cravings I just get more ice and eat that until it passes.
I am not at all concerned about this being some sort of mental health issue, because if there’s any disorder I know for certain I do not have, it is OCD. I am not autistic, nor am I eating ice in some odd way of getting attention. In fact, I prefer to eat my ice in my room alone.
I also learned that pica gets its name from the Magpie (another reason why the Crow thing seemed appropriate) because people observed that magpies will eat just about anything.
So there it is. Maybe this is some odd coincidence, since I’ve always been fascinated with pica. I had a dog with pica when I was a kid, who ate all sorts of nonfood things. Now I know what she was going through, I guess.
I should know more about the blood issues in a week or two. Longer, of course, if they turn out to be more serious and require further testing.