jmfargo: (me)
[personal profile] jmfargo
IMG_0044 It feels weird to be sick and to talk about it without being told I'm a hypochondriac. Oh, maybe sometimes a little problem is blown up in my mind into a bigger deal than it really is but for the most part every time I've stepped into a medical test to see if there really is something wrong with me I've been vindicated.

Extreme pain two years ago that had me knocking my head against the wall a year after feeling the exact same pain in the exact same way?

Turns out I had appendicitis and that my appendix showed that it had been in distress for a long time. Probably over a year. The pain I had felt a year before in the exact same place? Probably an appendix attack that only luckily calmed down enough to not explode and kill me when it was misdiagnosed.

Chronic stomach aches, nausea, problems with my stomach since I was a teenager? Well, the surgeon who removed my gall bladder last year had been doing this for over 20 years and had never seen so many stones, or stones that large in his whole time of doing surgeries, meaning that it had probably been a problem since, oh, I was a teenager and just never diagnosed.

Pain in the middle of my stomach, right above my bellybutton? A weird bulge above my navel that I'd had for years? Yup; hernia. An untreated hernia I'd had for years. Seriously. Then when that same place started hurting a few months later I dismissed it as all in my head. They were checking me for diverticulitis when they noticed a problem with it. Turns out it had reopened and they had to put some mesh in. And I had been trying to ignore the pain because it was all in my head.

Keeping all that in mind, why is it that now, when I have a confirmed case of diverticulitis and another flare up over this weekend that had me in bed almost all Sunday with the pain, I still feel like I'm making it all up?

Logically I know it's because my pain was dismissed for most of my life. I was told flat-out that I was making it up. I'd wake up sick every morning as a teen and as an adult later on and I was told that I was faking it or that it was stress, nothing physical, that I had to tough it out and learn to deal with it by my parents and later my ex.

But I should be able to fight that with logic, right? I know that I'm sick. That this is real. That I am absolutely not making this up in any way. I've had 3 flare ups since we moved out here, with this one being the worst. I have scans to prove it, doctors backing it up by telling me, straight-up "You have diverticulitis" and then showing me the proof on the tests they did, the pictures they've taken on multiple occasions. It is real.

Yet I doubt myself.

I feel like I shouldn't go to the surgeon that my doctor wants to send me to. I shouldn't bother him. It's probably just me blowing things out of proportion just like I always do. Except that I don't, according to every medical test I've taken in the past few years. But I do because I'm sure I do. Absolutely certain.

I'm having some other problems. Scarier than diverticulitis. I don't really want to talk about it because it's triggering issues to lots of friends of mine. It's possibly nothing. It's possibly something. My main doctor thinks that it's something I should at least look at but the specialist he sent me to told me it's all stress. All stress.

Of course it's all stress. Of course it's all in my head. Of course it is. Because I made it all up my entire life, right? Because that's what I genuinely believe even when I feel the pain or have the issues I'm having. It's all in my head and I'm just really good at making it all up so strongly that I believe it's real. He's a specialist so he must know what he's talking about.


This post was supposed to be something different but this is what came out.

I'm scared. I don't want surgery. I want it all to be in my head. I want to be making it up. I want to go talk to a therapist and straighten out my head, get it on straight so that I just stop making up all this bullshit pain and other stuff. That's, somehow, the easier route here. It's easier for me to believe even though I'm feeling the pain and experiencing the issues.

How fucked up is that?


Scared and angry. Not just scared. I'm angry that I've gone my life with these problems and not had them fixed until now. I'm angry that my body feels like it's betraying me. I'm angry that my brain is so messed up in this regard.


And I'm tired of being scared and angry so I'm going to stop for now. I'm just going to stop thinking about it. Double blah.
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