It’s hard not to get depressed. To crawl in bed and mutter, “I’m sick,” and just lay there. Why? Because I am sick. I do feel awful. The fatigue is driving me insane, and the nausea and abdominal pain has reached a fever pitch. The issue is miscommunication between treating physicians. doctors who think they know what I need. What will work. What will make things worse. The balancing act, complicated by my PTSD, has reached pushed me to a breaking point. Nothing works, and what does work, only seems to work a little bit. Worse? If it works at all, it requires another medication to mitigate the side effects.
A few years back I was put on a medication to help me sleep. At the time I was annoyed because I’d gained 4o pounds. I didn’t think I was eating more, but it was all so long ago, I couldn’t remember. With my appetite at 0, and my weight plummeting, I figured it was worth trying the medication again. If it could help me sleep, decrease nausea, and allow me to eat again, maybe it would be okay. Instead it was a nightmare.
I didn’t sleep unless I mixed it with the sleeping medication my (horrible) NP was trying to wean me off of. Worse? It increased my appetite, but did nothing for the nausea and pain associated with eating. The result was an urge to eat a normal amount, despite having a digestive system that simply couldn’t handle it. The nausea and pain didn’t subside, and eventually I had to stop taking the medication. Within two days my usual severe nausea was back, along with a disgust for all foods. This morning I choked down a bagel and some cereal, but I’ve been immobile ever since.
It feels like I’m digestive razor blades. While I was on the medication, I was passing a good amount of blood with my stools, which makes me think I’ve got ulcerations in my GI system. I refuse to be scoped again. The whole thing is an odd vicious circle, with no apparently clear answer for how to fix the problem.
So today isn’t a bad day. It isn’t that I’m giving up, I’m just struggling to function on a basic level. I need to make it to a night class, and make up a lecture for an online class. I’m supposed to see the guy this weekend (or beginning of the week, I’m hoping he isn’t back in town yet) and I want to feel better than this.
Sometimes it’s hard to deal wit hate reality that your body is attacking itself. The masochist little bastard that is my immune system ruins who I feel like I really am…sometimes.