Just to clarify, blogging/writing/talking about myself is something I’ve always had difficulty doing. I can talk about something I’m doing without an issue, however when the line moves into the darker recesses of myself, I tend to clam up and go quiet.
Which is why I plan on not being quiet now.
I’ve suffered from headaches and random acts of strangeness for a long time. As long as I can remember, something has either hurt, ached, felt weird or otherwise bothered me physically or mentally. A disturbing thought or strange pain out of nowhere at a young age used to worry me. After going to the doctor and having test after test done, only to find out they had no idea what was wrong, I stopped going to the doctors.
I didn’t shut up about the pains, I just stopped asking professionals for their expensive opinions.
As a child, my mom came home from the doctors with the news of breast cancer and what it would mean during treatment and surgeries for the next few years. Being a 9-year old, I didn’t know at the time, but it would set the precedence for how I feel about doctors today. Watching her go through constant bouts of daily pain until she died five years later with little to no help from the people sworn to help her ailments left an unknown but growing seed in my mind. That seed grew into a tree of “just shut the hell up.”
As the tree grew, so did the pains. Muscles, bones, ankles, joints, migraines, back, brain and so on became a daily annoyance I relieved with a 2-liter of Mountain Dew and a handful of Advil, acetaminophen and aleve. Occasionally, a tooth would rot itself out of my mouth and the dentist would prescribe a magical little pill called Vicodin. One Vicodin takes the place of all the other dozens of other pills I forced myself to take every day to stand up and walk down a flight of stairs or the ability to stand up out of a chair without grunting like a senior citizen.
Fast forward to today. Somewhat. About 6-9 months ago, my arms and legs started going numb at random times. Sometimes, I’d wake up with them numb, other times they’d nod off by themselves throughout the day. I’ve stapled my hand to stack of papers, bit my tongue, scratched my arm – all without feeling or knowing I’d done anything bad until the blood started dripping. It also scares those around you in public when you have to look around and ask “is this yours” while you have blood on your hands since you don’t know.
My wife told me to go to the doctors back in, we’ll say Feb or March for argument’s sake. Beginning of the year. I don’t know. But she wanted me to go in for the numbness and random pain. The doctor thought I had an infection of some type since my joints and back hurt along with migraines and the normal plethora of usual aches I have. The antibiotics did nothing. She prescribed more, stronger ones. Still nothing. Stronger ones still. Nothing. Finally, three months later, she told me to see a specialist. Enter the rheumatologist and the ENT (Ear, Nose and Throat) specialists.
After meeting with them and telling them I could no longer hold an xbox or ps3 controller without screaming in pain after 15 minutes, the rheumatologist asked me to go have a CT scan done on my spine. The ENT thought my nasal passages were too small, however, he saw polyps growing and wanted an MRI done on my sinus cavity. Today, I went back to the rheumatologist with the disk (I already looked – herniated disks) and he confirmed something called Fibromyalgia.
Forgive my spelling. Apparently, wordpress doesn’t know how to spell half the stuff I’m trying to type.
To the point, the FM doctor gave me a script for Cymbalta, but wants me to talk to my psychiatrist first, since I’m on topamax for the mental issues (bi-polar, adhd, anxiety, etc) since some aspects counteract others and I’m waiting for a phone call from him as I type this.
I go in on the 28th to the ENT to find out what’s going on in my booger-pouch.
So right now, sitting next to me on this desk is a bottle of cymbalta, which may or may not help my muscles and back from spasming and my doctor who I need to talk to and get an okay from before taking it isn’t making phone calls so I can start feeling better. Which raises my stress level, which makes me aggravated, and makes anxiety levels go up….which is what these doctors are supposed to fix in the first place.
If you’ve gotten this far, I still hurt, nothing has improved, I’m waiting for doctors to call and everything’s still sore.
But who knows? Maybe I’ll get a call in the next 10 minutes before he’s gone for the day and things will look better.
Maybe I can type without my fingers hurting. Maybe I can play a damn video game again. Maybe I can sit on the couch and watch a movie without my back deciding it wants to contract and pretend we’re part of Electric Boogaloo. And maybe, just maybe…my arms and legs and face will stop going numb.