Thursday, January 10, 2013

I'm not crazy, I'm diagnosable

The last thing I feel like doing today is writing a blog post because I feel like this...
At least today I have the energy to dramatically flop down on the bed.
...and I have a million things to do.  (Editing, tutoring, cleaning [ha!])

See, I've had weird symptoms on and off since college.  I'll go for a couple of years where I'm fine, but then I'll have months where I feel like crap most days, with some days that I can barely get out of bed, among other symptoms I won't bore you with.  It's honestly terrible, but do you know what's worse than feeling like crap for up to six months at a time?

I can't decide whether this picture is cute or not.
Feeling like crap and then being treated by other people like you're making up your symptoms.  Being treated like you're lazy and you just don't feel like getting out of bed.  Even worse than that?  Being told by doctors that your symptoms are all in your head or that you're depressed.  I can definitively say that to the extent I'm depressed, it's only because it blows to not be able to do anything fun.

I'm not depressed.  That's just the way my face looks.
I eventually gave up on going to doctors since they never seemed to find the cause of my symptoms and I don't enjoy paying someone to belittle me.

Seriously.  I've been officially pronounced sane.
A few months ago, however, my husband urged to me to see a doctor one more time since my symptoms were flaring up again.  (He's never once doubted that my condition is real since when I'm at my worst, I don't even have enough energy to speak, and if you've ever met me, you'd realize that I could *never* *ever* fake that.)

So I saw a new doctor.  She actually listened to my complaints, took me seriously, and ordered a whole bunch of tests (some I've had before and some not).
In fact, I'm wearing a heart monitor right now and sort of look like a Borg because she wanted to actually see what my heart's doing rather than pronouncing me crazy before she tests her hypothesis!

I am Katie of Borg.
This new (awesome) doctor called me two night ago and informed me that the blood results are in and they seem to suggest I have lupus!  Why the exclamation point do you ask when lupus obviously sucks balls?

Worry not, I've never had any sores in my mouth or nose.
The thing is, I've had these symptoms since college.  Having a name for them doesn't suddenly make me sicker.  The only thing worse than having lupus is having lupus but not having a name for it so everyone thinks you're some lazy ne'er-do-well who doesn't want to work a full-time job.  And really, it's not just other people's judgments.  It's my own.  After being told by doctors for so many years that it's probably all in my head, it's hard to not start to internalize that sentiment.  Now at least I don't have to feel guilty for feeling sick on top of actually, you know, being sick.

I can't stop watching this.
Oh, God, I am crazy.



  1. I'm so glad you found a diagnosis. It's strangely comforting, even though it's not the greatest news. Like you said, it doesn't make you any more sick. I hope you have some good options for treatment now. Good luck!


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