I’ve Always Been Crazy, But It Keeps Me From Going Insane.

Thank you, Waylon Jennings, for that gem! I think I’d make one minor tweak to it to fit my life now: I’ve always been crazy, but Xanax keeps me from going insane. So far most of my tests and come back clear, negative, etc. I have one elevated titer for a virus. We won’t be able biopsy and test for this one unless or until I have another big breakout. They’ll need to biopsy a large lesion. Catch 22! I get to find out if this is the source of my Sweet’s (yea) if I can have another bad outbreak (boo). [Insert foul language here.]!

Let’s make one more revision: I’ve always been crazy, but Xanax almost keeps me from going insane. It’s incredibly frustrating dealing with such a rare disease. 

It’s not the doctors’ faults. So little is known about it, they don’t have anything to go on. So, I get to “donate” blood to my cause own cause quite often. I even have “track” marks from all the “sticking.”

Bethesda truly has been wonderful with the exception of just a small few. I didn’t think I’d be saying I’m glad I’m here if you asked me 3 months ago. I am saying it now. I am very glad [...] continue the story

We Are All Liars!

Do you have chronic illness? Yes? You’re a liar. I’m a liar, too.

The problem with chronic illness is that it’s just that…chronic–always with us. If you could talk to your old self, the you before your illness, your old self would be freaking out about all the symptoms you’d be describing and extremely sad about how drastically life will change from pre-disease to where you are now.

You see, it’s generally a gradual onset. A symptom starts. You are forced to deal with it. You learn to manage that symptom and/or live with it. Slowly the symptom may worsen with you barely noticing it. Or, another symptom starts. You deal with it in addition to the previous one. You learn to manage that symptom and/or live with it. It’s a vicious cycle to which you adjust. Your “normal” is no longer what it was pre-illness. You develop a “new normal.” Your pain scales get readjusted. What would have been an 8 pre-illness on a 1-10 pain scale, with 10 being the worst pain ever, becomes a 5 for example.

Therefore, when family, friends and coworkers (especially coworkers) ask how you’re doing, your response may be “Fine,” or  “I’m doing okay considering.” That’s called minimizing. We all [...] continue the story

Life with Chronic Illness

My life started off “special.” I was born with an usual “birthmark.” My parents and doctors didn’t know what it was. After a biopsy when I was 10, they at least determined that it wasn’t cancer or dangerous but would grow back if we ever tried to have it removed–it grows, you see, and its roots are in the muscle. It’s not a pretty thing. I can remember wearing my modest two-piece as a little 5-year old in a friend’s yard. When she asked if we could go inside to play, her father replied, “Not until she wipes that mud off of her.” I looked all over myself. I couldn’t find mud anywhere. Then, her dad pointed to my stomach–right where my birthmark was. I didn’t want to play anymore and walked home.

Lots of my friends had allergies, but none of them seemed to have them as bad as I did. Nightly allergy shots were lots of fun as a 3-6 year old.

Many people also have asthma, but I seemed to be the only one of my friends who did. I tried to keep up with my friends, and I was able to play sports. I just wasn’t that good [...] continue the story

Painting Pain Art Gallery – Three

Breast Cancer Mastectomy

I am a woman thru and thru. I am not defined by the size of my breast. I am sexy with an A cup or a D cup. I am sexy even with only 1 breast. I feel beautiful, therefore I am beautiful. A womans beauty comes from within and not from what is on the outside. I am beautiful, see me shine, I still have one left behind, a woman I am until the end, even though I am not a ten, my beauty is here, it’s now within, I am a woman till the end. Poem by: Nancy Crowell

Laura’s Foot This morning I woke somewhere between 6:00 and 6:30 AM. I do not know the reason I woke. I had only been “asleep” for about five hours, maybe less. I went to “bed” at just about 11:30 PM. I cannot see in the mornings, so everything was a myriad of light and dark, without color. I cannot hear normal sounds in the morning. I only hear a combination of ocean roar, antique radio and television static and my own heartbeat as loud as Poe’s Telltale heart. I lay there on my bed staring up, as even rolling over to get out of bed can take ten [...] continue the story

When you look right through me

What evil disease is this, that would

steal the recognition of a loving daughter from her darling mother’s mind?

With love so strong and infinite, how could

a devoted mother suddenly go so far beyond, leaving a part of her heart behind?

 

So often you look right through me

as though I’m not here.

And as I wonder when you will again see me,

I become paralyzed with fear.

 

Each time you look right through me,

a jagged knife plunges into my already shattered heart

because although we’re together, we

couldn’t be further apart.

 

Although you look right through me

not knowing who I am, I will never forget you

or all that you have done for me.

And I will do everything I can to help you.

 

Whenever you look right through me,

please know that right here I plan to remain.

Forever by your side I promise I will be,

trying desperately to reunite us once again.

 

But the truth is – every time you look right through me,

another huge part of me dies.

Forever lost in eternity.

Unseen, like my unheard cries.

 

© Chrystal Gomes   2012

 

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