I didn't want to say this before, because I hate complaining like a wimp, but I have been feeling like utter puke for the past while...like...two weeks.
I mean, this entire year started out in a rather crappy way. We had to move, I ran over the sweet stray cat we were taking care of, I had to give up my own baby to the shelter, we were trying to find housing in this awful market, and I was still learning to cope with the diagnosis. Still am, in fact. People and their interactions with you change a lot when you find out you're sick. I mean, like...chronically, and it's not always in a good way.
I got really terrible grades again this semester. I mean, I got a B in Mortuary Science, but C was my highest grade in the other classes. Man, my lowest grades used to be B's at Snow. I mean, I failed a 1 credit class, but my GPA was stellar. I don't know what's happened.
So anyway, crappy year. But then we started going to church literally only because the bishop said he wanted to see us. And then it just became habit. We really liked seeing him. And, cliche, but our lives got better after we started going to church. I know, everyone says that, but I actually saw the difference. I thought we were happy, but after going to church, we just started being happier. Maybe it was the spirit, maybe it was the fact that someone cared about us so much (the bishop really liked seeing us and was so nice), maybe it was feeling like we belonged (kinda, we're still the odd couple in the ward), but things changed for the better.
I've been learning to actually deal with the shock of my diagnosis. At first, I inadvertently ignored my feelings, because I was too happy to be vindicated. Every doctor ignored me and dismissed my concerns, but finally one of them said to get a CT scan. He was blown away and hadn't even heard of PKD, so I doubt he was expecting results, but I was just so grateful that he listened to me! Still am! But it was time to face the music: this isn't going away. It was bad news.
It's often hard for me to feel bad for myself because we know someone who suffers from Cystic Fibrosis - which is a nightmare. But then there are days where I feel it. I feel sorry for myself. I get so sore after working like...2 hours. I always thought it was my weight, even when I was 154 pounds. I have the pain and the fatigue. But I'm not even sure it's PKD yet. I think it's just the depression. And I know it will get worse. My stomach will get bigger and bigger, my back will hurt more and more, the kidneys will squish other organs and cause issues, they'll begin to fail and cause other issues, and it's all just the worst.
That's the worst part of PKD. Not the aneurysms, the kidney failure (and all it's fantastic symptoms), the heart issues, the hernias, the UTI's, the pain, or the fear of what's to come, it's the fact that it's progressive.
Anyway, it can really knock a girl out. Knowing that things will get worse. Pressuring yourself to enjoy your already-ailing body while you can because it will deteriorate from there. I mean, many PKD people stop working in their 30's because of the pain. I feel like I'm pushing myself now and I only work like...maybe 9 hours a week! Why even go to school?
Anyway, now I'm just trying to get into my program and that's a lot of stress. I'm just stressed! Marriage is awesome, but it's work sometimes. School is a HELL of a lot of work. Having my anxiety is taxing to say the least, and my body is breaking down. Everyone wants me to be happy and hang out and do this and do that and I just want to stop. I just want everything to be done and I want to live. I am relatively healthy now! I want to enjoy life now! In a perfect world, I'd have a small, beachfront house in Oregon and live with my husband and my cats, and be a part time coroner technician.
But alas, I'm sick. I will never stop being sick. No matter what. And I guess all of this nonsense has amounted to snakes in my dreams. Many types of snakes everywhere. This time there was a flood coming and we picked one up and it flared out some cobra things and spat acid. None of them attacked us.
According to dream interpretations, this could mean many different forms of: you're overwhelmed. And I am. I really am.
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