Emotional mess

I feel I cannot do anything right. I am probably being overdramatic but I do not care. I cannot make anyone happy even myself right now. I know this too will pass but I am so tired. No decision I make seems right. I second guess myself constantly. My decisions I make lately either disappoint the ones I love or disappoint myself or both.

I cannot be the wife I want to be for my husband. I cannot be the mother I want to be for my kids. I cannot be a good friend to others. I cannot do my job as I used to. I constantly disappoint others. I am constantly trying to keep my focus on myself so I can get better. Then I feel like a selfish bitch. I sometimes try to be normal and make stupid decisions. Sometimes it is about things that aren't even important or worth it but I make it a big deal.

I should be happy. I can eat better than I was a few months ago. I am not living on mostly liquids. But my other symptoms still suck. They come and go from day to day or minute to minute. But I do not feel happy most of the time. I am happy when I look at my beautiful, funny, amazing kids. I am happy when my husband looks at me lovingly and kisses me. I am happy when my dogs are around me. I should be happy all the time. I am blessed. I am not dying. My mom is fighting for her life with cancer and she has been so strong through it. I should be happy I keep telling myself.

I feel so needy, so emotional, so weepy, so crabby. I could go on and on. I feel like at times it would be better if I just checked myself into the mental ward. At least they could fix my emotional issues. Maybe they could teach me how to deal with being sick and feeling alone at times even when surrounded by a multitude of loving supportive family and friends. I do not know what I need any more except for these health issues to go away. I thought I had come to terms and accepted my new "normal". I guess I have not. The slightest little issue makes me want to sob. I hate that. I want to be left alone but I also just want my husband to hold me and tell me everything will be ok. Conflict of emotions.

I am going to say that this is just a bad day. I need to get my shit together and quit feeling sorry for myself. I am emotionally slapping myself and saying snap out of it. I hate being a fucking emotional mess. Today I am just going to say fuck this day and go to bed. Tomorrow is a new day right?

Doctor's appointments

Going to the doctor makes me crabby. I get crabby even thinking about it. I hate sitting there waiting by myself. But I do not want anyone there with me. I do not want anyone else besides my husband to see me at my weakest and hear everything that is wrong with me. I want him there but I do not want him to take off work. I tell myself if I have to have something major done like surgery then he can take off to be there.

First you go in and have to explain all your symptoms to the nurse first. I don't even know which symptoms to explain. Just my new ones or all of them? Then there are some symtoms that are intermittent. Do I really need to go over all of it again and then it also depends on which doctor I am seeing. Then the doctor comes in and I explain all over again. Then when I am unsure how long which symptom has been going on for they look at me like I am dumb or crazy. Or both. I have been sick for so long I feel like it all blurs together. How do you explain that to someone who is healthy. Before I became sick I would not have understood. Just getting through a day without falling apart is sometimes hard enough.

My primary care doctor doesn't even need to review my chart much because he has gotten to know me so well. He even knows I am sarcastic and a smartass. So he frequently cracks the right dry humor jokes to make me laugh. He is caring even if he is a little reserved. Lately he tells me how sorry he is that I am so sick and questions whether I should be working full time still. I appreciate his concern but it makes me want to start laughing hysterically and ask him how else does he think he will get paid for all my visits. Seeing the pity in his eyes make me want to have a breakdown. I do not want to be a sick person. I do not want to be viewed as just that. It makes me want to scream because I want the old me back.

As he reviews my labwork to see if there is anything else he can test me for while I am waiting to get in to the neurologist I again want to laugh hysterically when he says I have had full bloodwork done. I am examined and my painful abdomen is gently palpated. Even though it is gentle it makes me clench my jaw. We discuss nest steps and I can tell he is as frustrated as I am by the lack of findings on my tests. Everything so far is normal except my stomach doesn't digest food properly. Normal range and no significant findings are dirty phrases in my vocabulary.

Then once again I will have to have blood drawn. The lab staff knows me by now and usually my blood draw is quick and almost painless. If I have to have other tests run I spend time in the office or on the phone when I get home scheduling it. Always having to wait. A few weeks is typical. This time I can't get in to see the neurologist for 2 months.

I leave always feeling frustrated and upset. Anxious they will never find out what it wrong with me but also anxious that I might not like the answer I get. With a medical background I know what they are testing for most of the time. This is a blessing and a curse. A few times I know the test is for cancer or a debilitating disease and then my anxiety runs high until the results come back.

I do not want to go to the doctor again. No more tests, no more exams, nothing. I want to mentally fling myself on the ground and refuse to move. But I know that this is an impossible thought. I will never find out what is wrong with me if I do not go to the doctor. I never used to understand why people stressed out about going to the doctor. I now know it have nothing to do with the actual doctor visit. It has everything to do with my anxiety and fears of the unknown.

Rambling

I sat down and made a list of my symptoms. A real list of every little thing I feel and have. Since I have decided to not lie to myself anymore my list is true. The truth hurts right. The list takes up over half of a page of notebook paper. The length of this list scares me.

I no longer can remember when some of the symptoms started or how frequent they occur. I wonder if that is a symptom. My forgetfullness. Some days seem blurry, almost foggy. The details of how the day went or what happened are just out of reach of my memory. Like a hazy childhood memory. Could that be a symptom or is it a result of my malnutrition and/or fatigue? Then I wonder does it even matter. It occurs therefore it is.

Part of me wonders if I am crazy. If craziness and anxiety are causing all these symptoms. Maybe I just need a shrink or a padded room. Some anti-depressants & a Xanax. But the rational part of me slams a door on this theory. The rational tells me that a whole lot of crazy can cause a whole lot of physical problems with a body but it cannot cause some of my symptoms. I do not believe it can cause my stomach to not work properly, cause extreme muscle cramps, cause numbness/tingling/weakness in my legs, cause my muscles to twitch & shake at times. To cause my heart to race at odd times and become dizzy. So I push those thoughts of craziness away. But I wonder if this illness will cause me to lose my sanity.

I want to be better. Better with my health of course. But also a better friend, wife, mother, daughter, etc. I could go on and on. I feel like I have grown emotionally & mentally so much since I have been sick but my body is holding me back. I look at my husband and kids and want to do so much more for them. I feel like I constantly fail every day. Hearing my daughter ask why mommy always has to get sick on fun days broke my heart.

My emotions go up and down so much sometimes. One day I feel so positive about life and I roll with the punches. The next I feel so drained emotionally. I want to curl in bed and just sleep it away. Then the next I am so angry at everything. Bitterness makes me bite my tongue.

So I am going in this week to see my doctor and get a referral to a neurologist. I am trying to be hopeful that this time I will get answers. But I am tired of having my hopes broken with every "normal" test I have had.

Letting go is hard to do

I am stubborn. I can hear my husband laughing loudly as he reads this. He has known this for years. I have finally come to terms with it myself. My stubborness has not allowed me to admit to myself that I am stubborn. If that makes any sense. My tenacious attitude has led me to hang on to things way past the point I should have let go.

Letting go is hard to do. I have had to let go of much in life. That is part of being human. We let go of bad relationships, friendships and jobs. We let our loved ones go when it is their time. But I have always struggled with it. Especially since I have become sick. I have had to let go of time with friends, fun events, visiting family and most importantly myself. I have had to let go of parts of myself. Pieces of myself fall away and I have been desperately trying to pick them up. Recently I realized that I cannot do this. I cannot view myself as Humpty Dumpty who fell off the wall into pieces.

Instead I try to watch my pieces fall and look for the new shiny, raw piece of myself underneath. I have to let go. Sounds so simple, so easy but it is not. Breathe deep. Let go.

The one thing I have decided to let go of recently is a big lie I have been telling myself. I have been telling myself that I am not getting worse. My stubborn nature had dug its heels in and I refused to believe that my health is worse. That every new symptom that pops up is not a big deal. Let go of this lie. I am getting worse. I spent Mother's Day in urgent care receiving IV fluids and sleeping on the couch. Less than a month later I am rushed to the ER with chest pain and shortness of breath. A night in the hospital and many tests later I still have no answers.

I do not want to get worse. I do not want to spend more nights in the hospital with my husband's sad eyes watching me. I do not want to be a "sick" person. I do not want to miss more baseball games and zoo trips with my kids because I am bent over a toliet. I do not want to seek second opinions and travel to Mayo. But I am getting worse. So I must let go and accept it. I am hoping this quote will become true.

“Last night I lost the world, and gained the universe.”
― C. JoyBell C.

Hopefully if I let go and lose my world I will gain the universe. Cheers to letting go.

What can fatigue do for you

fa·tigue

/fəˈtēg/

Noun Extreme tiredness, typically resulting from mental or physical exertion or illness. Extreme tiredness is the definition of fatigue. The dictionary makes it seems so simple when in fact fatigue is a complex creature. Before I became sick I was tired. I am a mother and spent many months waking up with 2 beautiful babies. Every human being has felt exhausted. Long days at work, crazy vacations, living life to the fullest can be exhausting. We all go home at the end of a long day and say "That was the longest day ever! I am SO tired!" But I never understood what fatigue meant until I was sick. I have family and friends with chronic illnesses. I am ashamed to say I had NO idea what they were going through on bad days. Fatigue is not just extreme tiredness. It is so much more than that. Fatigue means I have to decide if it is worth it to put on makeup, sweep the floor or carry laundry up and down a flight of stairs. Fatigue means even on my good days I am still learning to discipline myself to not overdo it. Fatigue means sitting at my son's baseball game and being so overwhelmed that I watch a inning. Then I sleep in my car for a few innings while my family enjoys the whole game. I wake up for the last few innings and feel mom guilt over the part I missed. Fatigue means missing out on jumping on the trampoline with my kids. Fatigue means I could sleep anywhere at anytime. I feel I could snooze in a room full of screaming kids. I could lay down on the dirtiest floor and not even feel disgusted because the need to just lay down and close my eyes is all consuming. Fatigue means the task of heating up a bowl of Ramen noodles seem like too much work. But even though fatigue has taken so much it also has given back. Fatigue tells my body to slow down. To stop and smell the roses. Fatigue has given me wonderful conversations with my kids as I lay in bed and ask them to tell me a story. Fatigue has given me a deep appreciation for the good old days of endless energy, long workouts, late nights and running a half marathon with my husband. Fatigue has given me the ability to let the dishes wait, to read one more chapter in a book or to snuggle more with my love while watching a movie. Fatigue has taught me to sit back and observe life as it happens instead of rushing through it day by day. Fatigue is teaching me to let go. To let go of control, let go of stress, let go of guilt. With every negative there is a positive it is just up to you to search within and find it. So what can fatigue do for you?

Patience

"How poor are they that have not patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees?
-William Shakespeare

Apparently I am a poor person because I do not have patience. I have never had patience. I try. I actually try very hard sometimes. Genetics is my scapegoat. My father is not a patient person. When we went somewhere he would just walk. If you did not keep up you got left behind. He had no patience for messing around. He will admit he has no patience.

Through every test I have had it is always waiting. For a person who lacks patience this is agony. Waiting to have the next test, waiting in the lobby to see the doctor, waiting to have blood drawn, waiting for results, waiting for answers. All this waiting, waiting, waiting makes me want to scream!

"I'm extraordinarily patient provided I get my own way in the end."
-Margaret Thatcher

And the way I want my own way is to have everything now. I want results now. I want my stomach fixed now. I want to get on with the rest of my life healthy right now. Now, now, now.

I try yoga to relax me, I try breathing techniques to calm me. I try to keep busy to keep my mind off things. None of this helps my patience.

“Patience is a remedy for every sorrow.”
-Publius Syrus - Latin Moralist

Will someone please teach me the key to patience to remedy my sorrows? I am waiting but not very patiently. My waiting consists of tapping my foot or pacing the room. I know my lesson and have done the homework but I am too stubborn to learn it.

Pouring rain

The phrase when it rains it pours is so appropiate for the last few weeks. I feel like I am a mess. The smallest issue such as being late for my son's baseball game makes me want to curl up in bed and cry my eyes out. I do not remember crying this much in the last few years as I have the last few weeks.

I would like to think that I am usually not one of those girls that cries about everything. Movies rarely make me tear up. I have a hard time crying in front of anyone except my husband. Even through the ups and downs of my mom's cancer fight I rarely have lost it. At least I think I am pretty strong. Even those magic woman hormones rarely turn me into mush.

But after the bad news about my mom's cancer spreading to the bones and my own health issues I feel my hope slipping away. My positive attitude is getting rained out.  Sitting at the doctor's office this week during my latest procedure and watching my scope on the camera I felt like my last shred of hope died as I watched the images on screen. The test did not provide me with a definate answer yet but the fears that arose with it are consuming my thoughts. The anxiety about the possibilities burns deep in my gut.

I am jumping up to try to grab that tail end of hope from the hole I am in. Right now I am emotionally raw and at any moment feel like I could lose it. At the same time a part of me is saying to shut up and be strong. My husband has had to deal with my breakdowns and I feel like he can no longer see his loving wife anymore. The sadness in his eyes as he watches me become sick hurts me worse than my physical pain. I am ashamed I feel so hopeless. So many people have it so much worse than me. My life is blessed in so many ways. I should not feel like I am standing in the pouring rain waiting for the sun to break through the clouds.