If you've followed my blog you know I have a complicated web of illnesses that continuously battle one another while continue to progress themselves. A year ago I injured my right shoulder and spent 9 challenging months in rehabbing before I had to abruptly stop due to the pandemic. With that I continued a program at home they laid out for me. I reached my final goal about 2 months later. Within days I broke my foot in two places. What should have taken 6-8 weeks to heal wound up taking a little over 5 months. All but the last 4 weeks I had to be non-weight baring. For an active person, that is torture. Endurance was the name of the game. But that was not all that I was dealing with throughout this time.
In early September it was discovered that my gastric stimulator battery had died and needed to be replaced. Within 6 days I underwent the surgery. Prior to the surgery my blood sugars were so erratic it was driving me crazy just making it through the day. My lack of treatment from the gastric stimulator added to the lack of activity from a broken foot was the perfect storm for uncontrollable numbers. When the battery was replaced I noticed a slight improvement, but not a lot. I did have the stimulator turned up a bit, but the reality is my gastroparesis is far more severe than a lot of others who have a stimulator. Their batteries may last 5-10 years whereas mine has gone from 3 years, down to 2, and now it is estimated to be 18 months. Not only is that overwhelming, but it was a choice between this and a feeding tube. That decision will be revisited next time the battery dies in a year or so. Although I know I made the right decision this year, the decision for next time is looming. I try to focus on the present, but that thought is hard to push away. And yet my struggles did not stop there.
Due to some discouraging news that I had osteoporosis discovered after m foot was broken, my endocrinologist worked with my gynocologist and primary care doctor to figure out an appropriate treatment for a young 37 year old woman. They decided on an infusion )administered by IV) I will receive yearly. They warned me of "flu like symptoms" in the days that followed, but what they should have said was "incredible pain from deep within accompanied by vomiting and diarrhea". I felt so horrible I thought I would die. I am good with pain and face things head on so you know this was rough. Thank goodness it is once a year and now I know what to expect. But this was actually tough emotionally because of my age. Not only am I frightened by breaking another bone, but I am being treated for osteoporosis in my 30's. My immune system is being beaten down.
The second day of feeling so horrible I get an email from my gastroenterologist. She said I had active antibodies in my blood work. We are doing everything right so my antibody count should be down. She decided I need to have an endoscopy and some biopsies. This means I will be put to sleep to have a camera go down my throat to my stomach to take pictures and obtain tissue samples. I lost it. I was healing from a broken foot, surgery, and an aggressive treatment then I get an email detailing more concerns. Plus, who wants to fast only to be put to sleep and have something shoved down your throat? I wake up feeling awful. My throat tends to hurt for a few days. And I also tend to not handle food well for a few days following. In addition to that, what will she find? I rarely end up hearing "You're all good!" They have also warned of stomach cancer due to my digestive damage. I am actively trying to avoid those thoughts, but I don't want to be put under AGAIN.
I am now rehabbing my foot. I am incredibly grateful for making it this far. My shoulder is good. It will never be perfect, but it's doing great. Big plus. Umfortunately the mental strain of the two is definitely lingering. Although I am glad to have a new stimulator battery I know what the reality is and I don't really like the view. I am now constantly afraid of falling or breaking a bone because treatments are not cure-alls. And now my immune system is kicking up unnecessary antibodies causing me to undergo more tests. I'm scared. I am strong. I am a positive person willing to be fulling active in my healthcare. I am hardworking. BUT I am scared. I have rarely asked myself, or God, "why me?", but lately it is creeping in more than I'd like to admit. I know God has a plan and I am impatient to see the end game.
There it is. We are going through some incredibly unprecedented times. Relationships are being destroyed or damaged left and right throughout our country and the world. My poor only son has not been around his peers in months. He is doing hybrid learning, but he may not even be doing that soon. I am getting too concerned with COVID numbers rising and my health challenging me at every turn. Humans were not made to live this way and we have had no opportunity to adapt so our reaction of chaos and panic seems natural. My health and fears of what is to come are overwhelming. My body is exhausted but I push through because more needs to be done. I feel like a pinball bouncing from barrier to barrier but not getting anywhere. I am stressed, depressed, and my anxiety is through the roof.
No medication will help. I do not like taking meds anyway so I often refuse them if it is not life sustaining. The particular medications to help treat anxiety and depression cannot be used in a patient with my digestive disease because it is not absorb or metabolized properly. I do exercise daily. That boosts all the endorphines.
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