It took me awhile to convince myself to write a post on what exactly occurred in the brightly colored exam room at the children’s hospital. The reason for this reluctance was not due to the fact I was diagnosed with some tragic ailment or because I received some form of heartbreaking news. Actually the cause of my disinclination was the shame, humiliation, and the intense self-loathing I felt after I walked out of the hospital doors.
You see, the doctors still are at a lost on what is causing my increased creatine kinase and wacky blood counts. I told the doctor that after taking the 20mg of prednisone (aka the worst drug on this damn planet), I felt better . . . . but only for a little bit. I explained the drug decreased the intensity of my bothersome symptoms for about a week after taking the drug regimen , but after that they slowly began to return. I felt very ashamed telling the doctor this. Why? Because I feel like a bad patient for not completely improving and I also am beginning to fear the doctors believe I am a crazed, mentally ill female that is plagued with severe hypochondria. I know I have shared this feeling with you before, but now this feeling is incredibly strong. At this point in time, I am doubting myself so much that I am actually completely willing to admit my seemingly insane self to a psych ward.
So folks, there you have it. I am so frustrated and angry with myself, that I don’t know how much longer I can live like this.