Emergency Room Visit...Again

For those of you that know me, you know I have an incredibly high pain tolerance. I will even give myself credit for my ability to compartmentalize my physical pain in order to seek out any normalcy I can find in what is left of my life...

Unfortunately, last night I hit a breaking point. My joint and nerve pain was so severe, my body was uncontrollably shaking. My resting heart rate climbed over 100 BPM, and my fever shot up to 103.

I tried to take a luke warm bath with some "calming bath salts" (what a joke that product name is). After about 20 minutes in the bathtub, nothing had improved. As I climbed out of the tub I became extremely dizzy and ended up vomiting all of my dinner I had consumed about 45 minutes prior.

As I sat soaking wet dripping both water and tears all over the cold bathroom floor, uncontrollably shaking and crying, I just had it...I couldn't take it anymore.

I've only been on these new antibiotics for a week, yet that week feels like an eternity; a blur of mind numbing pain and suffering.

Like I said, I just couldn't bear the pain for one more minute. Each second felt like forever. I am taking Lyrica, Tramadol, Vimovo, and more Vicoden than anyone should probably take, and found NO relief, no solace, no temporary comfort.

I just needed help...so I went to the Emergency Room.

The doctor was an ASSHOLE. Pardon my language, but there is no better way to describe the self righteous egotistical man that walked into my room. When I told him what I am afflicted with, his response was "Did you recently travel to Africa"?

His comment was delivered with a snide smirk, a nasty evil looking squint of his eyes that reeked of mockery and disbelief.

I looked so pathetic there...I was dwarfed by the oversized hospital bed they had put me in, shaking uncontrollably, eyes swollen and red with tears, head hung low like a sick or injured animal...And all I could say was "No." I had no strength to fight back with a powerful remark...I was already feeling beaten and broken.

He questioned my diagnoses, questioned my legitimacy as a patient, and questioned my reasons for being in the ER. He then said to me, "Well I can't fix your problems in the ER on a Friday night in Savannah, GA"...

I am still shocked at the lack of compassion, lack of understanding and empathy in some of the doctors I have encountered here in the Southern United States. It is moments like the one I had last night that make me question my faith in the medical community.

Their job is to help their patients and to LISTEN to their complaints and BELIEVE that they are real...not to bombard a young woman, obviously in a lot of pain, with disbelief and rude comments.

I ended up using my education (thank you Cal Poly Animal Science) and explained in scientific jargon my diseases, clinical presentations, my bloodwork results and titer levels and ranges, treatments, diagnoses, etc...and he finally seemed to at least believe that I was truly ill..

They ultra-sounded my gall bladder and it was reviewed by the surgeon. My bloodwork and ultrasound came back inconclusive, however I am going in for a specialized scan as soon as possible to take another look. My clinical symptoms do suggest a failure in gall bladder function. I will know more later.

I was sent home with some Percaset and a giant chip on my shoulder.

The worst thing about this disease is the disgust the general medical community has towards those of us who are inflicted with it.

It feels like saying you have Lyme Disease is like saying you have Leprosy.....Only those of us who have seen that "look" on the doctors' faces understand what I am saying...

It makes you feel like nothing, like you are alone with your illness, completely isolated from the rest of society...It is heartbreaking.

Although last night was horrible and upsetting, it does make me feel that much more thankful to have a doctor who is taking care of me and who BELIEVES me and has found out what diseases I have and has a plan to treat them, even if he is 3,000 miles away.

When it comes to your health, you HAVE to be your own advocate...Nobody will fight for you as strongly as you will, so you have to fight for the care you deserve.

I will continue to push forward, to be unrelentless in this journey to reclaim my life. These moments of adversity will be the ladders that one day lead to greatness.

I am just holding onto hope...the hope that one day those of us with "hidden" diseases will no longer be discriminated against...

Hope that there will be a CURE.

Hope that I will be able to have my life back.

Hope that I will be able to survive this and come out the other side stronger instead of broken and shattered.

Sometimes in this world that is all we have to hold onto...A glimmer of hope in a sea of black dark swells and waves. A quick flash of light in the middle of a storm...A shining star that burns through the dark ominous clouds of doubt and depression...

But at least it is something...Hope is everything when you feel like you have nothing...