February 10, 2012

• So my therapist asked me yesterday," What would it mean to be partially disabled?"  

  Maybe it would be a better question to ask, " What would it mean to admit you are partially disabled?" 

  It's certainly not something I've wanted to own. Maybe it would mean more of a relaxed stance and less grinding of teeth to get through the day. 

  If the doctor I'm seeing the twenty-fourth is accurate and fibromyalgia is a syndrome of symptoms indicating an undiagnosed illness, like chronic Lyme or yeast overgrowth, then maybe there is hope for me to regain some functionality. But it could mean a long course of treatment to correct whatever it is that I have railed against for the past twenty odd years. Because there is something not right about my physicality. I am unwilling to accept it any longer. That's why I am seeking out this doctor who has helped my friend.

  I liked his attitude on the phone. There was this big energy coming through the receiver. I asked him if he wanted any of my old records. He said the only thing he would want would be any blood work I'd had done in the last three months. Of which there is none. What was pleasing to me was hearing, " If fibromyalgia is what you have and the other doctors were right, then you would be well and would not be contacting me."  

  So we're starting fresh. Or at least he is. I am stuck with my narcissistic monkey mind chattering away about how could he figure it out if I couldn't. That's right. Sometimes I think I am so much smarter than everyone else. And sometimes I am, but not when it comes to diagnosing my self. But to have a life that might be as free of chronic pain as could be, with clarity and the ability to enjoy life? That's something worth working for. And I think it might just be possible for me.

  For a little bit, I was fixated on the unknown What it is. I'm pretty sure it's not cancer or ms. They'd have diagnosed that by now. Right?

  I've had this diagnosis for twenty years or so. I even think I remember the onset of the illness. My children's father and I were in the midst of building a log home, I had two small children and was working many hours in SCU with very little sleep. And one day I was so tired in the midst of the sawdust and decisions that my Father-in-law insisted on making despite what I wanted. And my husband wasn't standing up for us. I remember aching all over and feeling so tired. Feeling feverish. Feeling inflamed. That was the start of aching and fatigue. My mind fog became more apparent after my knee replacement surgery. I do not feel that I am as mentally sharp as I used to be. Mostly, I am tired.  

  Things really seemed to go downhill for me about six years ago. I had a routine screening PPD, a test for TB exposure. It was blatantly positive. I had a chest x-ray the day I showed my doc the red, indurated area on the inside of my left forearm. The chest x-ray was negative, no active TB. I had been exposed to a patient in the previous year or so. He had multi-drug resistant TB.  Supposedly, he wasn't contagious. I saw infectious disease and did a four month course of Rifampin. I was sooooo sick from that medication. I took leave from work. It was horrible and I was tired. And brain fog! OyVey!

  My husband and I concur: That was the start of decline for me.  So something got kicked off by the antibiotics, maybe. I obviously am grasping at straws here. But I am feeling hopeful about having more good days in the future. 

  Blessings abound

  • 11:09 pm
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