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?
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Thursday, June 20, 2013
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.
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.
Monday, June 17, 2013
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
What can fatigue do for you
fa·tigue
/fəˈtēg/
Noun
|
Monday, May 27, 2013
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.”
-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.”
Friday, May 24, 2013
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.
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.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Pushing
Since last fall I have had more medical tests than I can count. Countless blood draws, x-rays, ultrasound, urine tests, fecal tests and scopes to name a few. The lab staff at my primary care doctor's office know me by sight. One caring woman even remembers which arm has a better vein and remembers that I am a vet tech. I have visited urgent care and emergency rooms. I have spent hours waiting for a ultrasound till almost 10pm. Then got up and went to work at 8am the next day. I have seen my share of doctors so far and am sure I will continue to meet more through this journey. Every doctor is different and challenging in their own way.
I started off with a primary care doctor when I first became ill. While he was caring and took my symptoms seriously he was very quick to try to just give me a prescription. I am not sure of the motivation behind this or if it is just how he practices medicine. He did acknowledge that I am in the (animal) medical field and respected my opinion. I had to push him a lot at first to do more testing. I can't count the number of pregnancy tests he gave me but I should because it will probably make me laugh.
After he referred me to my gastrointestinal doctor I finally began to get answers. Before I was diagnosed with gastroparesis he suspected I had it. During my next round of testing he made it seem like if I had it then medication would fix it. As I began medication and he talked to me more about gastroparesis I quickly learned that medication does not always help. He is still testing me and pushing for answers to why I have gastroparesis. I am extremely grateful for this. Other times he is frustrating with how long it takes to get back with test results and answers to questions.
Since I have been sick I have visited urgent care and the ER a few times which has been a frustrating, maddening experience. One doctor told me he was sorry to keep me waiting he had spent 15 minutes reading through my chart. Then he asked me what was wrong with me and why I was there. He then asked what I was at urgent care for since I was seeing a specialist. My GI doctor was concerned about some symptoms I was having and I had to tell the urgent care doctor what my GI doctor recommended. He seemed relieved that I just needed a few blood tests and a blood pressure. He even said he had never met anyone with gastroparesis and would be lost in how to treat me.
Another doctor asked me what he was supposed to do with me since I was seeing a GI doctor. At this visit on Mother's Day I was dehydrated to the point I was not urinating and had a horrible headache. When I told him I thought I was dehydrated he repeated he didn't know what to do with me since he couldn't treat the gastroparesis. I had to explain my GI doctor recommended if I became dehydrated that I needed to go in and get fluids & supportive care. I almost had to start arguing with him about it because he acted like I was wasting his time.
I do not know where I would be if I did not have a medical background. If I did not push and argue with some of the doctors to take my symptoms seriously. If I did not be a advocate for my own health. It sounds cheesy but as a patient you have to be. I have learned to be that annoying client who calls & continues to come in till I get what I wanted. And all I want is to be healthy again.
At work I joke that if I was a dog I would get better health care but the sad truth is that sometimes it is true. My turn around time on tests would have been cut in half. It would not have taken 6 months to diagnose me. I know that 6 months is not that long compared to the years other people have spent pushing for answers.
So in 2 days I am going in for another test. Waiting weeks to get in to have the tests is maddening. The anxiety I feel for what the doctor will find is tiring. But I still have to push. If I did not have a loving husband and two adorable kids I do not know if at times I would have the strength or energy to push this much. But I want to be healthy again for them.
I started off with a primary care doctor when I first became ill. While he was caring and took my symptoms seriously he was very quick to try to just give me a prescription. I am not sure of the motivation behind this or if it is just how he practices medicine. He did acknowledge that I am in the (animal) medical field and respected my opinion. I had to push him a lot at first to do more testing. I can't count the number of pregnancy tests he gave me but I should because it will probably make me laugh.
After he referred me to my gastrointestinal doctor I finally began to get answers. Before I was diagnosed with gastroparesis he suspected I had it. During my next round of testing he made it seem like if I had it then medication would fix it. As I began medication and he talked to me more about gastroparesis I quickly learned that medication does not always help. He is still testing me and pushing for answers to why I have gastroparesis. I am extremely grateful for this. Other times he is frustrating with how long it takes to get back with test results and answers to questions.
Since I have been sick I have visited urgent care and the ER a few times which has been a frustrating, maddening experience. One doctor told me he was sorry to keep me waiting he had spent 15 minutes reading through my chart. Then he asked me what was wrong with me and why I was there. He then asked what I was at urgent care for since I was seeing a specialist. My GI doctor was concerned about some symptoms I was having and I had to tell the urgent care doctor what my GI doctor recommended. He seemed relieved that I just needed a few blood tests and a blood pressure. He even said he had never met anyone with gastroparesis and would be lost in how to treat me.
Another doctor asked me what he was supposed to do with me since I was seeing a GI doctor. At this visit on Mother's Day I was dehydrated to the point I was not urinating and had a horrible headache. When I told him I thought I was dehydrated he repeated he didn't know what to do with me since he couldn't treat the gastroparesis. I had to explain my GI doctor recommended if I became dehydrated that I needed to go in and get fluids & supportive care. I almost had to start arguing with him about it because he acted like I was wasting his time.
I do not know where I would be if I did not have a medical background. If I did not push and argue with some of the doctors to take my symptoms seriously. If I did not be a advocate for my own health. It sounds cheesy but as a patient you have to be. I have learned to be that annoying client who calls & continues to come in till I get what I wanted. And all I want is to be healthy again.
At work I joke that if I was a dog I would get better health care but the sad truth is that sometimes it is true. My turn around time on tests would have been cut in half. It would not have taken 6 months to diagnose me. I know that 6 months is not that long compared to the years other people have spent pushing for answers.
So in 2 days I am going in for another test. Waiting weeks to get in to have the tests is maddening. The anxiety I feel for what the doctor will find is tiring. But I still have to push. If I did not have a loving husband and two adorable kids I do not know if at times I would have the strength or energy to push this much. But I want to be healthy again for them.
Friday, May 10, 2013
Searching
"What we find changes who we become.”
I feel like I am always searching right now. Grasping at answers and solutions takes up my time. New symptoms creates questions which demand answers. And as the quote says what we find changes who we become. I find all this change exhausting. At the same time it is inspiring. I can become the person I was meant to be. This illness will not define who I am but will enhance it. I have more patience, more empathy and at times great inner strength. During my pain and self pity I try to remember this.
"Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence."
So the search continues.
I feel like I am always searching right now. Grasping at answers and solutions takes up my time. New symptoms creates questions which demand answers. And as the quote says what we find changes who we become. I find all this change exhausting. At the same time it is inspiring. I can become the person I was meant to be. This illness will not define who I am but will enhance it. I have more patience, more empathy and at times great inner strength. During my pain and self pity I try to remember this.
"Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence."
So the search continues.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
9 months
When we hear the phrase 9 months we think of pregnancy. Baby bumps, baby showers and of course, babies! I have 2 adorable kids who spent 9 months growing in my womb until they were ready to make their way in this world. I realised today that I have been sick for 9 months. Shocked to reliaze that 9 months had past. At the same time felt like I have lived years inside 9 months.
I am sure I have been sick for longer than 9 months but last August was when I first visited a doctor for my symptoms. These last 9 months have been a roller coaster. 9 months of hell. Of slowly feeling myself getting worse and worse. 9 months of feeling helpless. 9 months of anger & despair. 9 months of pain. 9 months in which I am slowly finding myself. Finding who I am and what is important has been a huge part of my journey so far.
In January I was finally diagnosed with gastroparesis. I finally found a doctor who did not want to just throw some medications at me and tell me to come back if they don't work. I have spent 9 months learning how to push the doctors to get them to diagnose me. If I wrote down all the details of my journey it would take up a few pages. Some of it seems like a bad dream. Like being lost in a foggy field. After months of endless tests and food trials and WAITING. I finally had a answer. The end of this is near. I cried tears of joy that I finally knew what was WRONG with me. Because I thought that is the answer to fixing it....if you know the problem then you will know the solution.
Being in a medical field (veterinary) I researched every test, symptom and result through my journey. So even before I was diagnosed I started researching. As I researched gastroparesis my heart dropped. When I read some doctor's quote that most cancer patients have a better quality of life than a gastroparesis patient I began to cry. My mom has been fighting cancer for over 4 years now...watching her strength through surgery, radiation and endless chemo is awe inspiring. I do not have her strength....how can I handle worse than her.
During my 9 months I have had my own "trimesters" or stages of grief. I call it stages of grief because people who get diagnosed with a chronic illness are grieving the loss of their old life and their health. Sadness and despair seemed to be the first. How can I be a good mom to my kids? How can I be a wife to my husband? Watching the people I love look at me with sadness was even worse than what I was feeling. I also was in denial. I tried to keep pace with my life before sickness. I went out with friends, continued to exercise and did my volunteer work. I got mono and then spent 2 months sleeping every minute I could,
My second stage was anger and selfishness. I hated. Plain and simple hated everything. Also a total pity party. Everywhere you turn is food. Commercials, movies, dining out, fundraisers, etc. Everything is food especially to someone who cannot eat. I hated watching people eat. Listening to talk about diets and losing weight made me want to scream "Just be happy you can eat". I also started medications during this time and started trading symptoms for side effects. I developed pain and bloating. During my first part of my illness I did not have any pain. As the medications have helped my nausea and vomiting my pain and bloating have gotten worse.
I believe I am now in a third stage. I am not sure what to call it except maybe acceptance. This doesn't mean I do not struggle daily with ups and downs. I have decided that this is who I am. The girl who stomach stopped working. I think of how much worse it could be. This illness could kill me someday. But right now I can eat some foods. Right now I do not have a tube in me. I can work even if it's the only thing I do during the day. I am still sad and angry at times. But I have learned to step back and smell the roses as they say. I find joy in the simple act of my daughter putting her hand into mine. To hear my son laugh deeply is at times amazing. I have lost and gained important people. Saying no when asked to participate still makes me cringe at times. Other times I do not feel any regrets.
I am still sick. I spend sleepless night because of pain. I still hate food. I still vomit about once a week. My stomach bloats after eating so I look pregnant. I do not lose weight because my starved body holds onto any nutrients it gets. My doctor is still running tests to figure out if there is a cause for my gastroparesis or if I have an additional illness. Some of my symptoms are not adding up and he wants to make sure he isn't missing anything. But last night I went out for a girls night. It was only for a couple hours. I could not have a drink or eat any "fun" food. Today I am paying for it. But it was worth it. Spending time with friends who come in the bathroom to check on me is worth it. Today at least I feel blessed to find out who is important in my life. It took me 9 months to get it.
I am sure I have been sick for longer than 9 months but last August was when I first visited a doctor for my symptoms. These last 9 months have been a roller coaster. 9 months of hell. Of slowly feeling myself getting worse and worse. 9 months of feeling helpless. 9 months of anger & despair. 9 months of pain. 9 months in which I am slowly finding myself. Finding who I am and what is important has been a huge part of my journey so far.
In January I was finally diagnosed with gastroparesis. I finally found a doctor who did not want to just throw some medications at me and tell me to come back if they don't work. I have spent 9 months learning how to push the doctors to get them to diagnose me. If I wrote down all the details of my journey it would take up a few pages. Some of it seems like a bad dream. Like being lost in a foggy field. After months of endless tests and food trials and WAITING. I finally had a answer. The end of this is near. I cried tears of joy that I finally knew what was WRONG with me. Because I thought that is the answer to fixing it....if you know the problem then you will know the solution.
Being in a medical field (veterinary) I researched every test, symptom and result through my journey. So even before I was diagnosed I started researching. As I researched gastroparesis my heart dropped. When I read some doctor's quote that most cancer patients have a better quality of life than a gastroparesis patient I began to cry. My mom has been fighting cancer for over 4 years now...watching her strength through surgery, radiation and endless chemo is awe inspiring. I do not have her strength....how can I handle worse than her.
During my 9 months I have had my own "trimesters" or stages of grief. I call it stages of grief because people who get diagnosed with a chronic illness are grieving the loss of their old life and their health. Sadness and despair seemed to be the first. How can I be a good mom to my kids? How can I be a wife to my husband? Watching the people I love look at me with sadness was even worse than what I was feeling. I also was in denial. I tried to keep pace with my life before sickness. I went out with friends, continued to exercise and did my volunteer work. I got mono and then spent 2 months sleeping every minute I could,
My second stage was anger and selfishness. I hated. Plain and simple hated everything. Also a total pity party. Everywhere you turn is food. Commercials, movies, dining out, fundraisers, etc. Everything is food especially to someone who cannot eat. I hated watching people eat. Listening to talk about diets and losing weight made me want to scream "Just be happy you can eat". I also started medications during this time and started trading symptoms for side effects. I developed pain and bloating. During my first part of my illness I did not have any pain. As the medications have helped my nausea and vomiting my pain and bloating have gotten worse.
I believe I am now in a third stage. I am not sure what to call it except maybe acceptance. This doesn't mean I do not struggle daily with ups and downs. I have decided that this is who I am. The girl who stomach stopped working. I think of how much worse it could be. This illness could kill me someday. But right now I can eat some foods. Right now I do not have a tube in me. I can work even if it's the only thing I do during the day. I am still sad and angry at times. But I have learned to step back and smell the roses as they say. I find joy in the simple act of my daughter putting her hand into mine. To hear my son laugh deeply is at times amazing. I have lost and gained important people. Saying no when asked to participate still makes me cringe at times. Other times I do not feel any regrets.
I am still sick. I spend sleepless night because of pain. I still hate food. I still vomit about once a week. My stomach bloats after eating so I look pregnant. I do not lose weight because my starved body holds onto any nutrients it gets. My doctor is still running tests to figure out if there is a cause for my gastroparesis or if I have an additional illness. Some of my symptoms are not adding up and he wants to make sure he isn't missing anything. But last night I went out for a girls night. It was only for a couple hours. I could not have a drink or eat any "fun" food. Today I am paying for it. But it was worth it. Spending time with friends who come in the bathroom to check on me is worth it. Today at least I feel blessed to find out who is important in my life. It took me 9 months to get it.
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