After many months of floundering and not being able to recover from even the simplest tasks, I sought a new doctor. It hasn’t worked out well, but I did land in the office of one who decided perhaps an MRI might be a good idea (only took 12 years) to “rule out MS”. I’m happy to report there are no nano-zombies slowly devouring my brain. It still doesn’t explain the copious amounts of pain, the sleeplessness, dizziness (which seems to be increasing in its frequency, despite decongestants & antihistamines), or the fatigue, but at least now I know my brain isn’t leaking out of my skull.
For the 8th (or is it the 9th?) time now, too, I am informed that my thyroid is also not the cause of my problems (ya THINK?!). I’m on the prowl for yet another doctor, and having a new lead, I made another appointment. This time, I’m taking 10 clothespins (one for every fingertip) with me, and when I’m asked what my pain level is today, I’m going to invite her do to a modified version of the clothespin challenge so she can feel for herself (yes, I know; it’s a pipe dream).
I’ve done this clothespin challenge myself and can report that it’s not difficult to sit with a single clothespin on a finger for 1/2 an hour. It can, however, give one a clearer understanding of how intrusive that pain is or how much effort it takes to function daily despite it, especially when it radiates throughout one’s entire body.
I’ve been getting lots of love from my husband and many of my friends have been poking in via phone and email to boost my spirits, entertain and distract me, and help keep my frustration from turning into self-pity. Ya know what? It’s working. I’ve been less inclined to focus on people — especially doctors — who neither value me nor my time; this in turn has saved me a great deal of sorrow, energy, and frustration. I’m thankful for people who recognize my limitations without using them as an excuse to avoid me (or bludgeon me constantly with their opinions), and each day is another day I’ve learned something new. I’m ever so thankful to my husband for constantly reminding me that I have value beyond my utility; that I’m important to him no matter how much or how little I can produce in any given day. (Today, my deepest love, you get homemade vegetable soup.)
For a long time I’ve witnessed the suffering of FMS and watched it minimized, especially in the shadow of illnesses deemed more important because they’re fatal or fall under the Law of Names (borrowed from mythology: knowing the complete and true name of an object, being, or process gives one complete control over it). FMS has no name, no true footprint to mark or measure, and its origin is still unknown. What a nasty pill to swallow, this realization that I’ve been minimizing my own suffering: I’m not dying, so who am I to be whining about it, right? Who am I to ask for love, or support, or … gosh … help?
I am me, and I need help to get through the ups and downs. Mostly the downs, but then, sometimes everyone needs a boost to get to the top.
I hope all are having a wonderful day.
Hot darn. Soup!
(Also, about a hundred kisses!)
I am so sorry that doctor did not help, but keep looking! When I twenty-five I started having pain in my arms , chest , ears, head and face. I went to one doctor after another, and they all asked me the pain level thing and yes, I wanted to scream. I was in so much pain, and no one could help me. I even thought some of them thought I was wacked. The pain was so bad, I just stayed in bed for over a year. I had TMJ which back then, they really did not know much about. I had suffered with pain for so long that my jaw locked and I could not open my mouth. I finally ran across a doctor who sent me to another doctor and he changed my life. My point is keep searching! I will be praying that you will find someone that can help with the pain. When something is constant like pain it really plays a toil on the mind.
So sorry to hear you are not well. I know how frustrating it is to try to find a good doctor these days. They are always in such a rush. I was taking 800 mg Motrin for years until my kidneys failed. It has my family history on the first page inside my medical records. Grandfather, Mother, sister and brothers all with kidney failure. They know that taking Motrin can destroy your kidneys. I asked why they gave it to me and the doctor said…..no one read your history. They were probaly destined to fail anyway but how much longer could it have been without the help of the drug?
I am wishing you the best of luck for finding the right doctor to help you.
xo suze
Kim and Suze, thanks for stopping by and sharing your stories with me. Although I wish it were different for each of you (no pain and no chronic health issues), it helps me to see (and remember) that I’m not alone. Many people suffer, and so often it’s needlessly. It is my wish — for everyone — that doctors will one day decide the QUALITY of their patient’s lives is every bit as important as the quantity, and then change their attitudes and focus accordingly.
Light and warmth, ladies, and prayers for health. Thank you. :)