|It's all a balancing act: walking up First Avenue to our apartment in NYC with baby trying to climb onto and off my shoulder!|
This year has been so much worse than in years past. I daresay that this year is right up there with the second year of my adult human growth hormone (HGH) "deficiency" drama - when I was surviving only on fumes. I finally had to be hospitalized in order to simply keep me alive until all the red tape of approval came in, an almost two-year process when all was said and done. We all worked feverishly on my survival, such a nightmare, especially since we weren't even allowed to pay for the HGH out of pocket until the approval by all parties involved got their act together.
And then we had the whole "compartment syndrome" surgery/fiasco just eleven months ago, when all my organs started to shut down, and everyone just concentrated on keeping me alive (the little dramatists), one of those "worst of" years. So when I say that this is one of my worst periods ever, I have some pretty good company to compare things to - and I've spared you many more incidents, since I - all together now - am trying to make these posts shorter! ;)
It's even difficult to say how much worse it is this year: 100 times worse, 1,000 times worse, a million times worse? All I know is that I'm "rather" miserable and sicker than I have been in eons.
Now, I'm not writing this in order to gain sympathy points or votes - that would be rather silly. What I'm writing about is my reaction to being this "new" sick. Some include, but are not restricted to:
- My legs are like jello and often can't carry me. I end up crawling a lot. I'm like dead weight - if hubby is at home, he tries to help me to the bathroom, but dead weight that insists on falling is not the easiest feat to accomplish. And no, I don't drink, as one doctor in the ER once tried to ask my daughter behind my back - whereupon my daughter started to laugh her head off - a rather long story I'll spare you.
- When I sit up to get out of bed, my head starts to spin and I see dark spots in front of my eyes - or light spots - and it feels like it's going to implode or explode - I'm not quite sure which.
- My pupils aren't dilating and contracting the way they should be, even with no medication in my body.
- My head feels so heavy, as if it's made of some sort of heavy metal, because it wants to hit the closest surface, usually the floor, face down. If I'm lucky, I hit the mattress and just lie there unable to move at all for about 15-30 minutes, making it quite uncomfortable for the rest of the body hanging off the bed.
- My veins, especially the ones by the wrist start to feel as if they are going to either explode of implode.
- My whole body starts in with these jerky sways, then jerky shakes.
However, to make things worse, I've found myself engaged in two behaviors that are doing me no favors. However, having weighed all the options, I've decided that I should go on or just do as much as I can. Mind you! DO NOT FOLLOW MY EXAMPLE, but rather as I say, not as I as I do, because, after all, I'm an old bat! Most out there have their whole lives ahead of them and also have not been ill very long. For the newly-diagnosed patient there is the problem of whether or not a near-cure could really help, if not a cure, period! Looking at you, spoonies, I have real faith in the cure being found!!! But getting back to moi and my self-absorbed self (yes, I do see my failings):
- I've been acting like a bit of an "in your face teenager" daring my CFIDS, ME/CFS and fibromyalgia evil fairy. Just as I did wrong with the "non-stop eating" celebration of the dreaded and surprising hypothyroidism, I'm daring, in a way, the DD "fairy," to inflict more damage onto me like a playground bully, though this bully is so much stronger than any bully from school - as I should well keep in mind.
- I'm mad! I'm angry! I've had it. I've adjusted, compromised, accepted so much of this stupid, idiotic illness for 38 years and I realize that really, I don't have but so many years left - after all, I've closer to 80 than I am to 25! I have to do what is right for me and not live someone else's guidelines or dictates, because I've wasted enough time already. I've been ill way too long and realize that in the next decade or so nothing is going to cure me and nothing is ever going to give me back even 10% of a normal life. Like the person who got severe polio before the vaccine, I'm never going to get well enough to really live life. Oh, I'll keep fighting - it's part of my nature and DNA - but I'm also trying to accept reality with what will give me a semi-normal standard of living occasionally.
- The holidays are coming up and I refuse to live a "Green Acres" life, the old sitcom where the couple from NYC buys a house out in the country and can never finish remodeling the hovel. Our remodeling has been going on for 5 years! Good grief! The only saving factor about the kids going away to school was that my house would finally be immaculate. Wrong: I was soo naive! I live in fear that the remodeling will be completed the day before either hubby or I keel over and we will not have enjoyed a finally put-together house! (Almost!)
- The holidays are coming and that is a big problem for me. I do not do well with holidays. I used to decorate the house with absolute perfection, down to the Christmas china, chargers, baking peroshki's and cookies, at least 3 or 4 different cakes for dessert. We'd have Christmas parties. Even my book club finally decided that each December meeting would be at my house because (LOL!) why bother at any one else's? (Fine solution for me as the house was washed and sanitized to a inch of its life anyway!)
That's three things down and how many hundreds more to go????
In the meanwhile, I hope all are doing so very well, their very best, only better. Ciao and paka.