Tie Me In Knots; I Won't Come Undone

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter”

- Martin Luther King, Jr.

I have the right not to remain silent. Hence, this post will emit all of the things and feelings I have been dealing with over the past few months.

Thanksgiving was terrible. Christmas was non-existent, and I already feel like the first days of 2011 have flown by without me noticing.

I’ve felt a bit guilty about not sharing recent events with my readers, but I didn’t want to seem like a complainer. And I didn’t know how to talk about it all in a coherent way. So this post may only be semi-coherent.

The last few months have been filled with more calls from doctors, doctor’s appointments, and tests than I care to remember.

I had more disagreements over appointments with the GI people, I had to contact patient relations again, and I was finally told by someone in GI that I wasn’t being treated properly and that the way I was being treated goes against protocol.

In between the other chaos, I got separate calls from my rheum’s and GI’s office telling me that separate labs had come back abnormal. I was taken off Methotrexate. I am back on it now, on a lower dose. That which does not kill you, right?

I also had a defecography and colonic transit test. While it’s amazing how comfortable you can become talking about the inner and outer workings of your gut, I’ll let you discover exactly what these tests entail on your own, if you so desire. I will say, however, that the colonic transit test is a weeklong commitment. And what a commitment it was.

I don’t know how people that have mainly GI symptoms associated with their illness(es) do it. It is exhausting, embarrassing, and disabling, not knowing how your body is going to react, and not being able to trust that it will work properly.

On the one hand, my life has been overwrought with health stuff. On the other hand, I have found myself on the other side of things.

I won’t say too much about the non-health stuff because it is not really mine to tell. But it has been like watching a speeding train derail, and not having any way to stop it. Now I know what it feels like to be in the position of those around me who have had to deal with my illnesses and have no way to really help me.

I’ve also learned that you never really know what is going on in someone else’s life or home unless they tell you about it. You can think that these are the happiest people in the world, and their lives could be falling down around them.

How much can one person take?

I wish there wasn't a before and after. I wish there was just life, and a life that wasn't always spiting and thumbing its nose at me

I have a feeling that this might be one of those posts that I look back to and shake my head at, wondering how I really could have been feeling this low. But right now, I am, and the only way I can really think to help myself is to write the hell out of it.

Honestly, I’m pretty convinced that these people don’t know their head from their butt, and given that they are GI people, that definitely isn’t a good thing.

And does it make sense to anybody that my two and a half day hospitalization was billed to my insurance as outpatient care, which meant that I had to pay for part of it?

I am also sick of living in a country where people who are down on there luck get no compassion whatsoever.

I didn’t really make resolutions this year. Mainly because what I would really like to do is go into bed, put the covers over my head, and not get out until all of this crap is over.

I am exhausted…already…physically and emotionally.

I ran into my GI doc at the hospital, on the way to my volunteer post, and she had no clue who I was. There was zero recognition. I have seen this woman many, many times. My rheum has recognized me “on the street”. This really frustrates me. I want to trust this doctor and what she has to say, but how can I? Her inability to recognize me makes feel worthless and invisible. It makes me realize that in the medical system, I am just a patient, a number. My personhood is in question. Because I am sick.

I’m sick of being the person that gets treated like crap, but takes it with a nod and a smile. That acts like it doesn’t bother me. Because it does. And now I want to rip everyone’s heads off at any chance I get. But I don’t. And I won’t.

I’m trying to get things under control. In the near future, I’ll be starting physical therapy for my colon. Not sure what this will entail, but needing it to work so that I can avoid surgery. My doc thinks that this is not related to my rheumatologic issues. How can it not be? I’m still searching for more concrete answers, and hoping they come my way very soon.

And I’m doing what I can to support those around me who are dealing with difficult things.

So that’s where I stand. And that’s the key thing. Despite being totally overwhelmed by things, I am still standing. I may be a bit worse for the wear, but I’m doing the best I can.