11 Years Brings Me Here!

So, a bit of a continuation from my last post.
Most of this, is just so you know where I came from to be where I am.

About 11 years ago started a journey. One that would bring me here, but also took me to my past.
I was a lot of things, in my previous life. A lot of things that I would have to learn to accept that I was no more. Now, I am still a lot of things, just different than I was before.

I started to get sick. Ok, that's not true, I had always had a habit of getting sick. I just wrote it off to long hours, high risks, little sleep and an all consuming drive to be successful. Unfortunately, I did that for a long time, before I realized I was really sick.
Fast forward to the point that we realized there was actually something wrong. I had all the classic signs of an over achiever. Insomnia, gastric upset, gastric reflux, diarrhea, aches and pains, trouble concentrating. Cue doctors: you're just getting older, you're not so young any more, you do to much, you work to many hours. Except, I wasn't working nearly the number of hours that I used to. I was only working one job instead of three. I was also only 28 years old.
Then, then came the awful swelling of my hands and feet, intolerance to heat, sweating up a storm, the fatigue became so much worse, the GI issues were a catastrophe. I was in and out of the doctor. One doctor told me I was aging, one told me I had chronic Mononucleosis, one told me I was over worked and needed to go out on disability. By the time I was only able to keep water and plain pasta and plain bread down, we knew I had a real problem. Then began the search for a doctor. One who would not write it all off.
Once we found one that would actually pay attention, reviewed everything that had been done. He said, you need to realize you are sick. Really sick. There started tests, visits with specialists, more tests, more tests and more doctors visits.
I was becoming the "Professional Patient"
Tests started to show a lot of abnormalities. Later, we would find out that I hadn't had a normal white blood cell count in years. Later, we would also start to put it all together and realize I had been sick for a long time. Likely my whole life.
Fibromyalgia was the first diagnosis. After that, several other things started to fall. I had high Rheumatoid Factors, evidence of Auto-Immune abnormalities, evidence of perpetual muscle trauma and breakdown.
Medications came and went all in a struggle to make me feel "normal".
Surprise! I was never going to feel normal again!
Then came a wonderful Internal Medicine Specialist.
He said to me at one of my visits. "Here is my goal for you, we can't 'fix' you, there is no 'cure', what we can strive for is that you will feel like shit for the rest of your life." Me: blink, blink, blink. He continues, "But, I have to tell you, there will come a day, when feeling like shit is really pretty damn good, compared to how you feel now!"
Guess what? I still see this doctor. And every visit starts the same.
"How do you feel?"
"I feel like shit!"
"Shit feels pretty good, doesn't it?"
Yeah, yeah it does. Because I usually walk in to his office under my own power, after I have gotten myself out of bed, eaten food and driven myself to his office, sat down in a chair and actually on a good day, crossed my leg. All things, that I had gotten to the point that I couldn't do on my own, before him.
There is a great drug cocktail at work here, my husband says I rattle when I walk. But, after a lot of trial and error, there is a cocktail that works for me.
Is it perfect? Oh, no! It includes frequent bouts of dry heaves, lots of sleep, lots of lemonade to keep the taste out of my mouth and stop the dry heaves, days where the pain is excruciating, days where sleep is the only thing I long for and can't find. Days where sleep is the only thing I can do. Bad days where I need my cane to get around and go shopping. Days where I just want to be 'normal' and have to remember that 'normal' isn't what I was meant to be.
Is this the end of it?
Nope, this is just the beginning. This is just the point, where I have started to accept that it will always be like this and I have to make decisions to protect myself, my health and accept that I will always be sick.
You would think, 10 years would have made that possible.
Somewhere, in the back of my head has always been the belief, that the right drug, the right diet, the right doctor and it would all magically be better! That I would be who I was.
That's just it, who I was. Not who I am.
Who I am is a disaster, a blessed disaster. I will forever be sick. There is no magic cure, no magic pill, no magic diet.
Learning to LIVE, in spite of it all, is the hardest thing we will ever do.