I thought we were done with this

I went to the doctor's yesterday in hopes of getting some sort of answer as to why this new kind of sickness is happening. I figured he wouldn't have any immediate answers. And sure enough, he kind of looked at me after I explained everything that has happened the last month and said 2 things:

1. That I need to get in to see my gynecologist (which I knew already).

2. He really wasn't sure what was going on. We just have to test and see what happens!

And I knew it was coming! But still, I'm sitting there like "and here I thought we were done with mystery illnesses!"

I guess not.

So here's the plan: He tests me for Celiac again (while also testing to see if something could have caused a false negative about 5 years ago), and I have to take a pill that reduces the acid in the stomach in hopes of calming down the nausea that way. And get an appointment with my OB/GYN.

And so we come to the difficult part: Do I go to the doctor I've been seeing, who so far, I feel, has steered me down the wrong direction with a lot of things (the IUD was a mistake that I will regret for the rest of my life), or do I go back to the doctor who didn't know how to help me with my vaginal pain and have him help me?

I don't know what I should do with that...

When it rains, it pours

So let's be honest: being sick sucks. It always sucks. There really isn't a time you're thinking "wow, I feel great! What a wonderful life!" when you are chronically ill. You concentrate on managing symptoms and trying to live life despite it.

And then there are times when all you can do is lie in bed and think "damn it, just kill me already!" That was pretty much my week, and weekend, unfortunately. I deal constantly with pain and not feeling well, but this week was definitely a special case. Most of my time has been on the couch with a heating pad on my abdomen trying to deal with pain, waking up in the middle of the night sick, and not being able to eat much.

I think I've finally hit the beginning of this getting better; at least when it comes to the worst of the symptoms. I don't really expect the nausea to go away because it's been here for almost a month now.

They tell you when you are diagnosed with Fibromyalgia that it is not a progressive disease. On the plus side, they have it half right. It doesn't, as far as we know now, destroy tissue, nerves, or cells. So yay for that! But to say it doesn't progress and get worse would be lying, because it can and it does. Mine gets worse every year.

I have to remind myself that it can't break my spirit. Not if I don't let it. And I won't. I can't.

When the curtain falls

Death is hard. To lose someone, to know they aren't there anymore for you to talk to. And it's even harder when things were left unsaid, undone, not dealt with. How do you go forward to find peace when you can't say what you needed to? How can you end that chapter not knowing what their response would be? It's a hard thing to do, and not one I know the answer to.

I've found out in the last 24 hours that one friend lost a mom, and my cousin lost a grandpa. And now I learn that an old friend is dying.

I cannot really tell you how I feel because to be honest, I'm not sure right now... I feel sad for the families, I feel sad for my friend, and I feel sad for my cousin and her family.

With Gina... it's hard to describe. It gets worse the more I think about it. So I'm going to end this post here, with a link to where her poor daughters are asking for donations to help with the funeral expenses. I have no money to give, so this is my only way to help.

A Fund For Mom

This too shall pass

This hasn't been a good weekend pain wise. Between my back and my uterus, which causes pain to radiate all down my legs, I'm over it all. I'm mostly surviving with Midol, Tylenol, and a great big heating pad! But a lot of creative energies going right now, so I guess it all evens out in some way!

And now I have the nausea back, but I have ginger ale for that.

That's been a new thing. This constant nausea. It's never been this bad before. It makes dinner suck.

A Breath of Life

I've deciding that writing more would be helpful for me, so I'm setting a goal to write an entry at least 3 times a week right now, and those entries don't include any photo or video entries I make. I don't know why it gets so hard for me to blog and talk when things aren't going well. Maybe it's because I've been so beaten down to believe that I need to hide it at all times that I just don't see a reason to. But I need to stop that. Part of this blog is about relieving my thoughts, and helping others in the process, and I can't do that if I'm not saying anything.

My insurance company has been a great big pain in the ass lately. It sucks that I went from such great insurances with my parents to this hell hole that Asher's work has given us. I started my trauma therapy, and immediately after starting my insurance went "Nope, not in network!" and now we're waiting on some information about a payment helping program from the hospital.

It pisses me off so much. People who so badly need these medical services, like me, get shafted because the insurance companies don't want to pay for anything, and do they tell you ahead of time? No, of course not.

Mom thinks come 2014 I may be eligible for Medicaid. God I hope so, because this is ridiculous. Do they really think stressing out someone as sick as I am is helping? No, it only makes all of the pain and all of the illness worse.

This shit seriously needs to change.