Sunday, March 21, 2010

another lesson in the manifestation of illness

I'm feeling a bit better today. I spent the day vomiting yesterday - and if you know me well, you know I hate, loath vomiting. I will do anything to avoid it.
That wasn't the case yesterday.
I was able to get my ass out of bed for my morning massage and the woman also happens to be an energy worker (doesn't matter what kind) and doesn't know me from a hole in the wall. I told her the area I needed work on because the pain meds weren't working. Well when she got there, it's as if she could see right through me. She started some energy tapping, asking if I've been doing a lot of work on (xx) issues because it was really really open... it was an interesting session. A little less massage work than I would have liked, a little more answers (more than mr. telehealth nurse). It made sense why none of the pain medications were working though. It wasn't completely physical.
Within hours after that it was all coming up. It wasn't a virus, it was grief work. The stuff I've been doing anyway, but all in my head.

The Chinese have a theory about illness. It's called Feng Shui (yes, the same system that people assume has to do with furniture placement. I can assure that it's not). The letters ESP in their system don't stand for Extra-Sensory-Perception. It stands for Emotional Spiritual Physical. The ESP's of illness, dis-ease. We in the West are only just starting to buy the theories that mental or spiritual issues can cause physical illness. Our bodies store so much in formation. In my opinion that's why Fibromyalgia was so misunderstood for so long - thought of as something psychosomatic - which, it is, all in our heads. But originating from our heads doesn't take away for the reality of the physical illness.

I think this weekend's illness manifested not through viral contact (G-d knows I get enough of it at work) but through a culmination of perhaps being susceptible to viral infection due to all the work I've been doing spiritually/emotionally and timing (I happened to be co-facilitating a group on chronic-PTSD on Fridays. Sometimes it's the least favourite part of my job).

The thing about not seeing Western medical practitioners is that come Monday I don't have a sick note. I also don't have anything (proof of sickness) to give to my supervisor for why one of my sections due tomorrow isn't ready. Perhaps some footage of me kneeling over the toilet bowl would suffice (if only I had a camera).

Today, I'm going to try to eat and hope that it stays down. I haven't eaten anything since Fri (or at least kept it down). So much for my attempts at weight gain. :)

Saturday, March 20, 2010

when pain meds don't work I become whiney

It's times like this I miss being married to a paramedic. I left work earlier today because of sudden chills and lower back back.

Okay, flu-like symptoms. Maybe something I hate (or haven't eaten properly).
So I slept most of the evening, or at least tried. I have unbareable lower back pain. I called telehealth and they were more interesetd in getting my address right than answering my question. I refuse to give them my address because I don't want an ambulance called. Way too many people abuse the system for non-emergency calls. Way too many people. I know, I was married to a medic.

Besides, unless I'm having a heart attack, there is no reason for an ambulance. Even that doesn't constitute calling them, I am DNR afterall so what would be the point?!

So here I am, laboured breathing, having taken pain meds, laid on a heat pad, and still nothing. The pain is unbearable... I hope it's not any bad virus. There's lots of shit I'm exposed to at work.
It's starting to make me a little nervous, especially when I did an intake for a guy twith TB the other week.

I just had to post... to whine to someone, to be heard. It's hard adjusting being single and sick. Very hard.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

pain pain go away

It's raining today. What a good day to do some research (for a paper I have due very shortly). Except that the body decided to accept some long overdue pain.
Yes, pain of this sort is back. I haven't experienced it since before these meds (not on this magnitude) and thus, no work to be had.

I don't think this paper will ever get done.

I haven't been brought to tears like this by pain in a long time. Better than it being daily.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

a blast from the past

Ok, so I'm going blow my anonymity - partially. I'm in a program of recovery. Everyone close to me knows I have big co-dependent issues, which is partially why my marriage didn't work. My recovery has been my saving grace of late. Ok, let's move on...heart stuff:

So I'm at my meeting tonight after work and this older woman comes up to me and asks me if my name is XXX (my childhood birth name before I legally changed it).

I can't tell you how weirded out I felt. Anyway, after asking her who's asking she told me who she is. She tells me that she was my grade 2 teacher at xxx school. And, of course, I went to the school she mentioned. Apparently (according to her) I haven't really aged. I know this, but I don't want to sound cocky: I really look the same (except the long hair that's gone; which is even shorter since I cut it again today, ah the freedom). I digress. So she tells me she's always wondered what happened to me because she knew of my heart disease (all the teachers did because I couldn't do gym, I was to be watched since I was very fragile etc. etc. etc.).

She was astounded that I was still alive. I was astounded that she remembered me after all these years. I try to think back to grade 2 and I can't recall it. I can remember kindergarten 5 and even 4 (I loved that art easle and yellow smock). I even recall grade one and the girls I didn't like, grade 3 and the retard room us slow readers where sent to (the janitor's closet since there was no room for kids with learning/reading issues back then); but grade 2: no memory.

So apparently my little heart became a wonder for a heartfelt teacher. Who woulda thought.

In 6 days i turn 37 and I'm telling you, I love these meds. Expensive meds. I got the bill from my pharmacy for the remainder (non-insurables/provincial insurables) yesterday and I tell ya, if it wasn't for what they're doing for me I would stop them because I'm starting to not be able to affrord them. Meds or trip overseas. Yes the choice is clear. But it's a let-down.

The ability to work and still be alive, breath and even feel good: no let down whatsoever. My Creator has something left for me to do still or these meds would have not worked, or made it my way.

To see someone from 30 years ago who wondered if I'd still be alive, and to be here, cane free, wheelchair free 30 years later: how can I not walk on sunshine today?