The pain is there, inflammation too, but doctor’s are clueless, what should I do?
I have an invisible illness that has taken hold, slowly crippling my way of life. I had my dreams ahead of me, a future to look forward to. I was in the gym getting myself in shape, discovering that I had a love for running. I was studying for the LSAT, getting ready to start a new journey, one that I had been looking forward to for many years. Master’s degree down and Law school in my future, perfect for my type A all in type of personality. I’m no wimp. I like to get my hands dirty. In fact, I’m a bit of a micro-manager. I rather do things myself, I have high standards, no one will do it as well as I could. But all that has changed. I’m not who I am anymore. I have an invisible illness.
Probably one of the most difficult things with an invisible illness is not what I suffer with daily, but the doubts in my doctors eyes, the suspicion, the questions. How do you prove what you feel when pain can not be measured? When holding up your phone in bed causes your arms to throb, cleaning causes your body to flare up in pain, weighed down by invisible weights pulling you towards the floor. Just walking up the stairs with those heavy weights is enough to make me pause and rest, draw in my breath, and gather my strength. Noises smothering you till you just want to crawl in a quiet dark hole and let your mind be at peace. Movements overwhelming, filling your vision till you just want to shut everything out and rest.
I’m hypersensitive. I feel every ache in my body, my bladder only slightly filled yet the sensation is every present, a tiny gas bubble searing it’s way in my insides, my heart beating against my breast, a tiny hair irritating my cheek, the way my breast squish against my bra, the artery pulsating in my stomach, my dry eyes, painful joints, aching muscles, horrific stomach pains day in and day out. I feel everything. Surrounded by a sea of sensations waiting for my next escape. The drugs dull the pain, the sensations, the heavy fatigue, pushed at bay for a few hours relief until the effects wear thin and the feelings return.
I have an invisible illness, one shared by many but never the less, ignored and pushed aside, treated as though it is a disease of the mind and not physical, physiological or neurological in nature as the symptoms suggest. Remember when epilepsy was a mental illness, locked up in an institution because doctors didn’t know how to handle what they couldn’t measure? History repeats itself. Rather than telling the patient that technology has not caught up with the process, they blame them instead for PTSD, anxiety, somatization, and depression. Anxiety may be my cross to bear, but logic rules my mind. Can they not handle defeat? Do they not know that they are not infallible, not all knowing and all mighty?
One day they will look back and know. They failed us. They denied us, ignored us, and left us to rot. They had no answers, but they will…one day.
Please share, comment, or like on this post. Most of my posts are just for myself as writing helps with my frustrations, but I think my story represents a large number of people in this world. Even a quick comment to say hello! I just want to see if this post is being seen, if you can relate.