Another day, Another doctor ...

A few years back a nurse from my primary care's office said something that struck a cord with me, .. something that a patient may have very easily taken as an insult, but for myself it actually brought clarity and perspective to my life, more specifically the life I have been living these past 5 years or so, .. although, one could argue the concept fits me and my life going as far back as my preteens. What did she say to me you ask? She said that I was a "career patient," a term which I had never heard or considered before, but something which rang so true. It also followed along the same lines as another comment made by my mother a number of times over these last few very challenging and painful years. Let me back track and say that this time spent seeking help, answers, a diagnosis, and finally, treatment, has been very hard on me, both physically and emotionally. One could also easily say that it's been a battle financially and spiritually too, as it seems one only affects the other, just as our body's systems and conditions affect each other, like the game of dominos. 

For the majority of these years I have felt many emotions, spent many frustrating days enveloped in a nagging desperation that the so-called best years of my life, the time in our twenties which is supposed to be racked with happiness, new experiences, success, ultimately the building blocks (or years) of our lives, has been all but wasted being ill .. waiting to get answers, waiting to feel better, waiting for treatment and improvement, all so I can get back to living my life as normally as possible. Many weights were lifted from my shoulders, my heart, and my very being, the day I received my first auto immune diagnoses. Aside from the obvious, one additional weight lifted was the idea and belief that so many of my good years had been taken away from me, wasted, robbed, down the drain with no chance of recovery, and certainly no opportunity to press the rewind button. My mom's statement to me has been repeated over these last few years, but I was not able to accept it and truly appreciate it, .. really be okay with what has been occurring (and what hasn't) as a result of my chronic illnesses, until I allowed myself to see the whole picture, diagnoses in hand. My mom said that this experience, just like with life, has been a true education, one on a doctorate level, and that I had all but earned myself a Ph.D as a result of my ongoing struggles. This idea gave me relief, a sense of peace that I haven't felt in some time, a calm which allowed me to let go of the idea that this time spent being sick, unable to do so many of the things I longed and hoped for, dreamt of, and expected for my life, wasn't for nothing, and that it was a very large, expensive and multi-faceted education which will serve me well in the present and the future. I even hope that as things come full circle, that it may help in the healing of my past, which remains a painful and tender subject with too many layers to count. So, here I am; a career patient. A career patient with an extraordinary graduate degree in life with so much more to learn, but so many more lessons to share. And, one thing I know which brings me much comfort, I am not alone, even while I am unique, rarely fit in "the box," and always seem to fall upon the more unusual, more rare circumstances, conditions, diagnoses, and so on, within every department imaginable it seems. 

I am not sure why all of this trauma has happened to me, to my body, to my life .. and yes, while I don't want to throw a pity party and allow it to be my entire life and all of me, I do find it unfair, sad, and lonely. I have always tried to be an honest person, a real person, one with some integrity and compassion, sometimes too much so, and to a fault, and so, I prefer not to sugar coat things, to avoid apologizing for my life and my feelings. I am only human and I am not sure how else I can reach others if I am not just me. I am overly sensitive to things, overly sensitive to others, their feelings and heartbreak, and to how they react to me, so I can't say I don't care what others think and say, as that would be a lie, but, I am working on it ... working on letting go of other's judgments, opinions, beliefs and even criticisms about me and what I've experienced and endured in the life. Holding on to such things doesn't serve me in any positive manner and only generates negativity. This, I know, is yet another lesson for my doctorate degrees in life, and has been tested over and over by my journey with these chronic health conditions. As I have shared before, I believe we are our own best advocates, sometimes the only advocate for ourselves, and so trusting yourself, knowing your body and following your intuition, your gut, is so important, sick or not. 

Finally! Answers to My Chronic Illness ...

It took over 4 years to get an answer, a diagnosis, or rather, diagnoses, for my auto immune conditions. After seeing one doctor after another, finally, on April 11, 2011, I found the doctor who would bring many of my puzzle pieces together, forever change my life, provide much needed answers, and finally, validation of my health battles and a direction for hope. I am told I have two sero-negative auto immune diseases: Psoriatic Arthritis and Ankylosing Spondylitis. Both help to explain a number of my symptoms and many years of suffering, although there remains a few question marks; symptoms which do not fit into the category for either disease. So, with that, my Rheumatologist has hinted and suggested that there's likely a third, although those answers are on hold for now. Getting these diagnoses was like a victory for myself, for my life, my body, and even for my past. 

As a little girl I played many sports. Everything from volleyball, softball, tennis, gymnastics, dance, ice skating, and my most beloved, soccer. I was very active and loved being competitive. I felt great pride and accomplishment through both my own self and by way of other's reactions to my achievements in this arena. I also desperately wanted to please everyone, adults in particular. I was raised within a society which told young people not to question authority, not to doubt the opinions, beliefs and statements of your parents, teachers, and of course, the doctors. Some kids seek attention by doing negative things, I wanted the opposite; attention and praise for the positive things, and I sought it out as often as possible. So, of course as a young child and teenager the last thing I wanted was to disappoint someone, especially the adults. I wanted to make them proud and happy, not ashamed and angry. Being an overly sensitive person only increased my reactions to things, and I clung to every word, hand gesture, even facial expression, worrying constantly that I have done something wrong to make another mad, disappointed or upset in some way. 

When the pain started in my low back I was only 9 years old. I had yet to go through puberty and didn't have a full understanding and ability to recognize my body, but one thing I did know for certain: I was in pain and a lot of it. At first it came intermittedly, brought on or aggravated by more aggressive activities and sports, but I didn't pay it much attention and left it at that. As the pain and overall discomfort grew worse I was unsure if this was simply how everyone else felt in their body, and while I did say I was in pain, I only did so rarely and quietly, as not to upset or worry anyone. As time passed the pain became to much to bare when it came to playing sports, the last to go was volleyball. I remember the last day I played the game in fact .. I was good at it and the team looked to me to be a good player, and that day's pain was beyond horrific. I had to leave half way through and didn't live up to my typical abilities. My parents, especially my father, didn't understand why I needed to stop, and frankly, I wasn't sure why either, I just knew I was in great distress. Just like the rest, I gave up the game of Volleyball, with many thinking I was being lazy, or at least that's what I perceieved, especially since my doctor's had repeatedly said I was fine after each visit I came and complained of pain. Turns out those doctor's knew exactly why I was in pain, but didn't do anything about it ... although one later wrote in her notes that she was surprised I was still able to walk due to my extreme condition of Spondylolisthesis ... yet not one word of confirmation of my pain and complaint. I still wonder if that doctor simply hated me, as why would anyone with half of a heart allow a child to continue forward without any help knowing the severe and probable consquences of my condition? I can't answer that question. I don't think I will ever know, but it's always remained in the back of my mind, and in the pit of my stomach. She later went back and revised my records to make herself not appear at fault ... simply to save her own ass. The other doctor's made my x-rays, three years worth, vanish into thin air .. leaving no record, no footprint of me and the progression of my life altering condition. Both doctors got away unscalthed, able to continue practicing medicine. Sickening. 

As a child I didn't have a voice. I had my intution, which told me something was very wrong, but I didn't have the right words, the strength, the power to continue speaking up and fighting for my body. You do not question doctors ... at least that's the general belief and unspoken rule. And as a child, you are dually gagged, as they are both an authority figure and experts, how dare one question them when you're simply a child? You don't. Instead of continuing to voice my struggles, pain and tremendous growing discomfort, I wanted to please everybody, not create any problems, ... so I stopped; ultimately, I shut up. As a result I literally witnessed the edge of a cliff, coming close to falling off. And, while I didn't fall off, .. while I'm alive and still walking, my life was forever changed in so many permanent and not so wonderful ways. As an adult I was not going to allow this same scenerio happen again. I was not going to give up or shut up, and I vowed to continue listening to my body and stating the problems, even while people were annoyed and questioned my sanity. Yes, a lonely and long road to travel indeed, but I did it, and as a result, I won a big victory for that little girl inside of me who had no voice. Perhaps my past experience was a set up and a needed lesson in order to navigate this more recent struggle ... I am not sure. Although, I must say, that had it not been for that little girl, the pain, the suffering, the battle I nearly lost, I am not so sure I would have been so persistent this time around.