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 (AKA
Wicked Butterfly)
I
used to think my life was pretty simple. My role in my family was
peacemaker, caretaker and lots of times scapegoat. That was normal to
me. Little did I know that there would come a time when that “normality”
was going to be the death of me.
I
would work 3 jobs just to get by, didn’t have the best of instincts when
it came to picking men. I was constantly on the go go go. I moved all
the time. Just never could stay still. I was abused sexually as a child
and to this day still have night terrors even though I’ve consistently
gone to therapy finally for the last year and a half. I’ve traveled in
some tough circles, had a major motorcycle accident and was a fingers
click away from getting my ticket on Flight 175 out of Logan Airport in
Boston to LAX. I still suffer from survivors guilt. That close call
affected me deeply.
In
2002 I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, ptsd, anxiety, ibs, depression.
I was feeling like a real failure in life. But I refused to give in. My
doctor told me that the worse thing I could do was stop moving.
Exercise, eat well, etc…… I was determined to keep going. I’ve run into
some doctors over the last 8 years that have told me that there was no
such thing as fibromyalgia, cfs. That it was all in my head. I promptly
would get a new doctor or therapist.
I’ve
been either on a search for a doctor to believe me or no doctor at all
during lapses of no health insurance because I couldn’t afford to have
it taken from my paychecks. I went many years living on aspirin and in
intense pain.
Finally, in 2004 I got married to my best friend who would do whatever
he could to help me, learn what he needed to know so that he could
understand what I was going through. At the same time, I was offered a
chance to go to school to become certified as a Canine Education
Instructor. I couldn’t pass it up. We still couldn’t afford health
insurance or when we had it, the co-payments, but I muddled, limped,
sometimes cried and worked my way through the pain.
But
things were getting worse. I had terrible endometriosis which then
turned to fibroid tumors so bad that I had to have a complete (radical)
hysterectomy. Then a year later my appendix burst which resulted in a
portion of my colon being necrotic and having to be removed. My
breathing was getting so bad that for the first time in 20 years I was
having asthma attacks one after another. I eventually was diagnosed with
COPD w/severe Asthma and Bronchitis. I didn’t even know that they were
not the same thing. Also not good when I’m in a yard with over 30 dogs
and trying to wrestle a little dog away from a big shepherd. Then I was
admitted to the hospital with what felt like at the time, a heart
attack. My fibro was getting to the point that I was literally unable to
move some days and I always get high fevers whenever I had a flare-up.
Needless to say I had to leave my job because I could no longer continue
my duties.
 My
last day was so hard as I had become close with my boss and the team I
worked with (still am to this day) and most especially the animals I
worked with. Finally I had to go to the state for health insurance help.
I got
together a team of doctors who I trust. Also, my husband and I moved to
be closer to his work because I no longer could work. We were in this
city which we hate for 6 months and the company he worked for went
bankrupt. We were stressed not only over our financial troubles but also
I was exhibiting signs of limited mobility, I was stuttering something
awful, shaking like no tomorrow. I was being tested for MS, onslaught of
Alzheimer’s due to my severe short term memory losses. I was becoming
incontinent, and just scared because all my MRI’s, EEG’s, EKG’s, memory
testing were showing no signs of an abnormalities.
But I
know I wasn’t crazy! I could FEEL that something was wrong with my body,
I could FEEL the pains in my head.
Two
days after my husband got laid off we had spent the morning food
shopping and refilling a couple of my prescriptions. I was sitting down
in the living room putting my pills in my daily pill containers when the
next thing I know, I was looking at my floor covered with crushed pills,
men in my living room calling my name and my poor husband in the
background looking terrified. I remember the first thing I heard was
“yes, she wet herself. Common with grand mal seizures”. And that seizure
really got the ball rolling.
Since
then, my neurologist found a small abnormality when I had an ambulatory
EEG. I had x-rays of my neck which caused him to send me for MRI where
it was discovered I have Myleopathic Cervical DDD. Also, forgive me if I
get this wrong as my memory is not the best and my husband or someone
always have to go into my doctors with me, something about the nerves in
my spinal cord being affected. I was also told I had a vitamin D
deficiency and I’ll most likely be on supplements for that the rest of
my life. Just another pill.
Within a week of that I was hospitalized for surgery and had a cadaver
bone and some from my hip inserted into my c5-c6 along with a steel
plate and screws.
But,
as usual I have to save the world.
I’ve
had no recovery as 2 days out of the hospital, my youngest daughter was
hospitalized for a suicide attempt. Then after about 3 weeks of dealing
with that, I found that my best friend of 40 years was having a nervous
breakdown and abusing her 16 year old daughter both sexually, mentally
and emotionally. She lost her 8 year old child with Down’s Syndrome to
the state and I got the 16 year old. Once again, the caretaker,
peacemaker dealing with my best friend’s care, my daughter’s care,
trying to be there for my oldest daughter who has an 8 year old autistic
son and she is constantly stressed out and needs reassurance. My parents
are ill and I’m their only child and I live over an hour from everyone
we know so I’m frustrated that I’m of no use to them.
My
husband had gotten a new job as an OTR trucker but has decided recently
to get something local so as to help me out more. I feel as if I am
regressing from the lack of recovery time and my doctor reaffirmed that
not to long ago.
But,
thru all the pain, tears and terrors, I am still going. Once again
raising a teenager. I have a Boston Terrier who is a natural alerter and
is my seizure alert dog. Not to mention the comfort I get when I am
incredibly stressed. Another little gift I have been diagnosed with is
OCD because I am home so often and I obsess over everything. I can’t
drive because of my seizures and I feel helpless and locked down. Most
of the most serious of all my diagnosis’ have been during the last 2
years.
My
therapist tells me I can’t save the world. My husband gets upset because
I keep trying to help people at the risk of my own health.
I
just have to be who I am. I love them. And I know that when it comes
down to it, I will make a difference.
 I
refuse to let it beat me.
I’m
only 51 and I’ve too much more to do
Love
& Light,
Lee
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