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.
