A fair chunk of my life has been consumed by health – visiting doctors, seeing naturopaths, doing tests, embarking on these crazy health protocols, and then there’s also the actual time spent being sick, being too sick to live a functional life. Strangely I’m not mad or angry about any of this either, and in saying this don’t get me wrong either, I definitely don’t like it, it’s more so something that I’ve just had to learn to take in my stride – despite how hard or painful that has been at times. Also, I guess I’ve had no choice in a lot of it.
So, that’s kinda my practical everyday thinking about my health, but there is one element of this whole debacle that remains a pretty shitfull dark cloud. You see, even to this very day I have no clear cut diagnosis, so with that I’ve never known exactly what I’m dealing with. Like I’ve never had anybody sit me down and say, ‘you can’t move because… blah’. Or if someone has (which has happened a couple of times) they have been proven wrong over time. So sure I might have lyme disease, maybe a few other opportunistic infections or flaws, but essentially I’m still Area 51. There are still more questions than answers.
Hence, my chronic demyelinating poly neuropathy (which is the technical big scary name that I’ve been branded with), well it’s origins could be compared to those of electricity. But, again strangely, over the years I’ve kinda liked this as I’ve never had a devastating prognosis to deal with or been worried about a specific timeline. And in another way not knowing has left me with hope. But to keep talking in circles, on the other hand a firm diagnosis could offer positive treatment options. Now this is an internal debate I’ve been having for years and years, do I keep looking for answers or not?
And about 3 maybe 4 years ago, after exhausting just about every health channel known to man (and spending an absolute fortune, and going through both emotional and physical distress) I stopped caring about pursuing a diagnosis (or even new treatments options for that matter). I was just so sick of all the bullshit. I thought 15 years of longing and trying was enough – and I was sick of the personal toll. And I never saw it so much as giving up, more so being fed up. I mean if some new revolutionary treatment arose I’d be there with bells on, only nothing has surfaced. No shit, I really do feel like I’ve exhausted every reasonable option, and I’’m still not that keen on taking pot shots with things like stem cells. Actually I’ve heard that (for a few people in my predicament) they have really fucked some shit up.
Anyways fast forward to the present day, someone very close to me has talked me into revisiting the whole diagnosis and testing thing. So, about 6 months ago I started seeing a brand new neurologist, and already I’ve done heaps of tests and they’ve all come back negative/normal. But up next is the nerve conduction test (where I get electric currents put through my arms) and then another MRI (which is going to be an absolute logistical nightmare to get me into the thing). Fun times ahead. Neuro testing sucks. And again the strangest thing, I don’t really care about any of this or even the result. At this point I am totally doing this for somebody else.
Have a great day.