|characterized by or liable to sudden unpredictable changes in attitude or behavior; impulsive; fickle|
In other words, my life. Mainly, my health. One day I'm fine, the next, I'm convinced there is no pain greater that doesn't end in a baby being born.
I've been trying to write this entry for days. I want to get all this out, but every time I sit down to write, something happens. My brain quits, or I get distracted, or the pain gets the best of me for the moment. It's storming here, and for some reason, hearing the wind make the killer rosebush scrape against the window made me want to get some of this down.
How does one introduce oneself like this?
(As a side note, I had to jump up in the middle of writing this to chase down our elderly cat, who had slunk off to spray in a corner. Every time I try to write, I swear.)
About 15 years ago, I fell (or was pushed, I don't have a clear memory) down a concrete flight of stairs. I landed on my hands and knees, with my right foot tangled in the handrail. My doctor's office refused to take X-rays or treat me in anyway once it became obvious that nothing was broken.
Since then, my body has been deteriorating, more than I expect the average body would. X-rays were taken about five years later, but they only proved that nothing was ever broken.
In November 2009, I was in a "car accident." It wasn't a wreck with another car, but it did involve my car. The van had broken down in the middle of a very busy road, and with the help of a passerby, I was trying to push it across another lane of traffic. I stepped into the car to apply the brakes, lost my balance and fell. It must be my instinct to fall onto my hands, and as I twisted, my right foot got caught in the pedal, the seat or the steering wheel. (I'm sensing a pattern here.) I heard a loud pop, and I seriously believed that I had broken my leg. Instead, I had pulled my hamstring. I couldn't sit on my butt for two days, and limped around on crutches for two weeks.
These last few months, the constant pain that I've always had has jacked up a level. It's also fairly easy for me to re-pull my bad hamstring, meaning I limp around for few days afterward.
Aside from all this, I am drastically overweight and have a family history of Lupus, M.S., Rheumatoid Arthritis and Fibromyalgia. So that I hurt is not really a surprise. My doctor has done blood tests to clear me for the M.S., the Lupus, the R.A. and anything else he can think of. There is no blood test (or even a conclusive diagnostic test) for Fibromyalgia, however. It's one of those things that can only be diagnosed by ruling out everything that it's not.
The combination of all of this has meant that I have a hard time working, which means I have a hard time paying for anything. No diagnosis means that employers have no reason to be accommodating. In fact, my last employer not only fired me for being absent so much, but they then disputed my Unemployment claim and there's been no money coming into the house for a month. I've also had to drop out of college for the time being, as they want money I don't have, despite my Pell Grant.
My Sweetie has been disabled in totally different ways for the last six years, and we're fighting to get that recognized by the government, but it's been an incredibly long battle.
So - blah, blah, blah, right? Long story short, I'm on more medications now than ever before: a high dose of anti-inflammatory, a "serotonin inhibitor," and a narcotic for pain. Dr. P also just added an anticonvulsant that was originally invented for epilepsy. I haven't started the new medication yet, since I can't afford to pick it up, so I've no idea what, if anything, it will do.
Hokay, I got distracted a few paragraphs ago and am having a hard time putting words together. Whatever the hell is going on with my body seems to also be effecting my memory and concentration. So for now, I'll end this phone book of an entry and plan a more personal introduction for my next entry - how I met the Sweetie, what am I studying, yadda yadda. Same Bat-time, same Bat-channel.