My Health Problems – Bugs and God

Many of my close friends know this, but I have been struggling with tingling in my hands, face, and legs for the past three years. The tingling feels like bugs are crawling inside my skin – it is constant and never completely goes away. I am not in pain and do not feel any weakness or numbness – just a continuous tingling sensation day in and day out. What caused this to happen? I have two theories. First, three years ago, I went to a Piston’s game with a friend, and I drank too many Budweiser Selects. I was drunk the entire match and upon going home, I looked down at my feet and saw they were beet red. Along with the redness, I felt a mild tingling sensation – I was also up the entire night because of nausea. An important note is that I was never a big drinker in my 20’s and alcohol always impacted me more than my industrious friends. The day after the episode, I felt somewhat normal and the tingling had ceased. Midweek came and all of a sudden I woke up with tingling in my feet and a new phenomenon of tingling in my hands.

The first theory is that my three-year-long tingling is from a bad reaction to alcohol that somehow damaged my nervous system. I have not had a drop of alcohol since that Piston’s game and I now notice that my tingling gets worse when I am anxious or stressed. Here is the second theory: The month before the Piston’s game, I began an aggressive treatment to fix sciatic pain in my back through stretching and chiropractic manipulation. My back pain originated from a fall five and half years ago when I walked down an icy step of stairs and fell right on my lower spine – I laid on the cold ground for 10 minutes in excruciating pain. My 24-year-old self was not smart enough to seek treatment and instead, I went to the gym that day and squatted 250 pounds. For a year after the injury, I had to sit lopsided because there was too much pain on my right side to put any pressure. At this point, you can call me all the foul names you want – I agree with them wholeheartedly.

So back to the month of the Piston’s game when I was trying to aggressively treat my back injury. The chiropractor decided to treat my back with traction – a table that essentially pulls your back to extend it and relieve pressure. I felt no tingling while on the table but there was slight discomfort. Once my tingling began after the Piston’s game, many of my friends and family claimed it was caused by the traction. Today, when I do planks or specific exercises, my tingling gets worse. In respects to my facial tingling, that came about a year later when my wife had a miscarriage – my Mom gets facial tingling and I suspect that my facial tingling is unrelated to the tingling in my hands and legs. In the first year of tingling, I went to three doctors, had two MRIs, had 6 months of physical therapy, and still received no relief or answers.  So what is wrong with me?

To better answer that question, I recently went to another family doctor and a Neurologist. The family doctor didn’t think the tingling was from my back and prescribed me Cymbalta for anxiety – the Cymbalta made the tingling worse and destroyed my sex life. The Neurologist sent me to get an MRI of the brain to check for MS. The results showed that I have three lesions on my cerebellum, but I do not have MS. The Neurologist said the lesions didn’t look serious, but they could be benign brain tumors – in the end, they wouldn’t explain the tingling, and I have to go back in six months for another MRI. I’m not worried about the lesions because I have no symptoms that match a malfunction of the cerebellum. So I am back to square one.

At this point, I believe my leg tingling is from my back problems, my hand tingling is from back problems/anxiety/blood sugar changes, and my facial tingling is from pure anxiety.  I am not an overly anxious person, but I believe my anxiety manifests itself through tingling – other people may have headaches or stomach problems. Overall, my tingling has gotten significantly better since three years ago but my back pain is stubbornly persistent. I am still on a journey of discovery but I wanted to tell you all these things for one reason. God has helped me through all these trials and I am here today because of my faith. When it feels like bugs are crawling under your skin 24 hours a day, your mindset can go to dark places. I had the resolve to fight on because I knew people were praying for me and that in the end, everything would work out. I am a Christian for the very fact that I have seen God transform me over the past three years – wisdom truly comes through adversity. If you are feeling down, you are not alone. Google, social media, and even modern medicine will never be able to give you the strength to completely move forward. We are designed for a deep connection with our Creator – don’t push aside life’s greatest resource. I’ll keep you updated on about my lesions and tingling but, please keep me in your prayers.

If you have a struggle and need a sincere prayer, please email me at jonathan.oldham1@gmail.com.

We’re all Chihuahuas

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It’s been quite a while since I’ve updated everyone on my chihuahua – Max. For new readers, Max is a rat-dog that spices up my life by transmitting love through excessive barking and shaking. Max is in his teen-doggy years, and like most teenagers, he is experimenting with his nether regions. A typical night involves me reading while Max lies next to me – vigorously licking his wiener. Life is not complete until one sees a Chihuahua orgasm, but for those who never will, it entails half of the scrawny body flailing around like MC Hammer putting on a new pair of parachute pants. Each time it happens I sit there and ask myself, “What has my life come to?” 

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When Max isn’t masturbating, he is usually lying down shivering or trying to entice Christina into playtime. His favorite toys are a green-level Tae Kwon Do belt and an orange frog with no eyes. In previous posts, I have mentioned Max’s singular focus and his ability to exert intense concentration; an example of this focus occurred last night. Christina likes to eat while watching TV but is entirely incapable of multitasking. She will hold a spoonful of food near her mouth for minutes if a show is grasping her attention. This is ideal for Max because he knows that Christina will put her guard down – allowing for a quick gastronomic theft. Yesterday, as usual, Christina was transfixed by an infomercial for closet organizers, and Max seized the opportunity – he ended up eating an entire drumstick – bone and all.

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Upon this python-like feat, Christina began to panic and like any 21st-century woman – she immediately got on Google. For the next hour, while trying to watch the Lions game, I heard my wife read articles about dogs dying from chicken bones and how we should monitor Max’s crap for the next 99 hours. She ended up spoonfeeding the dog oatmeal so that his stomach would be protected from the razor edges of the bone – all while Max was trying to play with his orange frog. Max survived with minimal discomfort, and in the end, the only member of the Oldham family who had a stomach ache was my wife – at one point she was ready to rush Max to the emergency room. This whole ordeal made me think that we are all like Chihuahuas. Max shakes and is scared most of the time. Unlike Max’s physical shaking, we are always mentally shaking.

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We worry about things that have no real impact on our lives. Max has to worry about being squished or dying of hypothermia at temperatures of 75 degrees. What real dangers lurk around the corner for us? Most of our worries revolve around social status or future plans – things that are intangible and hard to control. So when we look at these small dogs are we not just looking at ourselves? When I ask Max – “Why are you shaking?” – shouldn’t I be asking myself the same question? Extending this analogy, do we also have a loving-Filipina woman looking out for us when we accidentally eat a metaphorical chicken bone?  We do but multiply that Filipina by a billion, and you have God. God cares for our shaky insignificant problems – He loves us more than we can comprehend – virtually the same as a dog’s understanding of his owner’s love. In the end, Max yet again gave me some wisdom, but hopefully next time it won’t require me to examine his poop.

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My Chihuahua – Max