Friday, June 17, 2011

How To Know When To Call Doctor

It's very frustrating when you have no idea WTF is wrong with you. Duh, right? If you know you have been exposed to the chicken pox, you know you don't have to go to the hospital when you break out in red, itchy bumps all over your body. (an old fashioned example since most people get vaccinated for c.p. now) But when you have mystery illness from hell, you are left to second guess a lot of the time.

This morning I felt a lot better fatigue and pain-wise, but right away I noticed something "not right". I felt like anytime I walked more than a few feet, I would feel almost out of breath....and definitely like my heart was pounding extra hard. When I sat down to edit pictures, it was better, but still the strange feeling in my chest persisted.

At around 2:00, I had to pick my daughter and 2 of her friends up from summer school then take them (as well as my youngest son and stepson, and their two next door neighbor friends) to the mall. The girls were doing lunch and then a movie, the boys-just a movie. Anyway... I started to feel a bit icky on the way there and I developed one of my random hives (this one was HUGE and on my left knee). Meanwhile the chest pressure is getting worse. I tried to relax by the pool when I got home, but I felt too uncomfortable. I went to lie down for a bit. My heart rate was normal for me at around 85. I didn't know what to do.

When I went back to the mall to get the boys, I started feeling a little nauseous. I didn't know if this is normal in people who have whatever the heck I have because nobody knows what the heck I have!

All I know about my illness is:
1. It is a thief- because it steals my time with my family and
friends. It has stolen my life from me. I feel like I don't enjoy life nearly as much anymore. That capability has been ripped off by this stinkin' condition.
2. It is a fraud and a liar-because it causes all of my blood work to come back NORMAL, when something has to be very wrong for me to hurt so badly every day.
3. It better not end up serving a life sentence. The two years I have spent trying to identify the bastard, have been the two worst years of my life. Pain, meds, doctors who don't believe, more pain, fatigue, letting friends down, letting family down, vial after vial of blood work...need I go on?

Anyway. My husband didn't want me to go to the ER tonight when I really was about to go.

I survived the evening, so I guess he was right. See? I would've made the wrong decision.

Good night!


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