Posts Tagged ‘illness’

All about Dr. Hottie! His name is Dr. Thomas Nasser, DO. This part is about how he helped me start my new journey.

By now I had seen Dr. Muscles and awesome Dr. Pretty. [the psychiatrist] I truly need to find out their real names. All of a sudden the curtain opened and this very attractive man walked in my room. He introduced himself as Dr. Nasser. I looked at him and apologized because I told him they they sent me the wrong Dr. Nasser. You see his wife, Dr. Susan Nasser, is my primary care doctor. He laughed a little and said,” you must mean my wife.” All I could think of was they must be the power couple in the valley here. He explained that he was a pain management specialist and that he ran the Rehabilitation Renter at Palmdale Regional Medical Center. He had been told of my plight by Dr. Muscles. He wanted to ask me if I wanted to go to his rehab to get help. Again, for those of you that know me when I know something, I’m always right. I explained that I have primary progressive MS and there really isn’t anything he could do for me. Again, he just smiled and basically he told me, well then there’s nothing to lose right?

In this moment I had so many things going through my head. I was drugged up on morphine, and everything was still hazy about what had happened the day before. Hell this might’ve been the same day I truly can’t remember. All I  could think about was being told for so many years there wasn’t much I could do once the progression started. The new medication, for the progressive forms of MS [Ocrevus], I could not go on. Something about being too disabled. I will talk about that another time. All the while he just stood there waiting for my response.

I looked at him and said. “I don’t think you know what you’re dealing with, but yes, I would love to try it.” I told him that my insurance probably wouldn’t do it, and he told me not to worry about that. When he left the room I was scared. The pain I have on a daily basis is about a 10+. But As my fellow MS’ers know we learn to deal with it. I knew doing this was going to be hell-a painful and hell-a hard. And there was that little asshole voice saying ‘it won’t work.’ And, again, I was scared. No, fuck that, I was PETRIFIED!! Could I deal with the pain? Could it, would it, really work. NO, it won’t work!! Nothing will help!! That damn voice would not shut the fuck up!! Then somehow… from somewhere… a strange feeling overtook me. HOPE!! Real hope. A feeling that I had lost many years ago. You see hope was my mantra. Then, hope became paralyzing. Hope became a word that made me cry. But, at this moment, hope was back. I’m not a great writer, so bare with me as I try to explain the feelings that took over. I see/feel dark and light. Dark and light clouds, if you will. My cloud was pitch-black and gloomy over me. I felt the cloud ‘open’ and light enveloped me. I was shaking and tears were streaming down my face. Fifty-three years of negative forces went flooding past me and a rainbow of positivity swept over me. Maybe, just maybe, this would work. Maybe, just maybe, I could get my life back and save my family.

Now the real journey begins…

Have Courage and Be Kind

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‘Have Courage and Be Kind’ is a beautiful quote from this 2015 version of Cinderella.

I’ve been thinking of a way to approach the week after I hit my crossroads. When the ambulance dropped me off at the Antelope Valley Hospital I wasn’t sure what I was going to do or why I was there. I explained I had a bad infection [captain obvious], but I said nothing about my suicidal thoughts. So they did what they always do, hooked up my power-port, and filled me up with morphine. Then, of course, they started a treatment of antibiotics. I was in and out and of it and was feeling pretty good with the morphine. At some point, and this is where gets hazy, a doctor that I had not yet met, showed up in my room.

And so it begins…

He was completely shaven, bald as a billiard. Tanned skin and quite good looking. It was very obvious the man takes very good care of himself. But, then he pissed me off…for a minute. He proceeded to ask me why I was there. WTF, look at my pee bag dude, it’s dark as fuck. Yes, I said that. He then asked me ‘why I did not go to my doctor since obviously it had been this way for a while’. I just looked at him like, seriously?!! Then he kept asking me over and over again, why was there, why now, why was I there, why now!!! Those who know me, know I do not like to be pressured or put on the spot. So I looked at him like he was fucking crazy and an asshole for asking me that over and over again. Then, he asked me again, ‘WHY ARE YOU HERE!!! I snapped, and 21 years of my MS diagnosis came out like verbal diarrhea, 21 years of frustration came pouring out. I was screaming at that point… ‘Do you want to know why I’m here, do you really want to know!’ I was screaming and crying telling him, “FINE… I wanted to kill myself is that what you want to hear. I was 32 years old with 3 babies under 3 when I was dx’ed. Why did God forsake me?!! Now I’m 53, and my kids have never known me well. Now, I’m paralyzed from the waist down and for the last 4 1/2 years years completely bedridden. Now my arms stopped working. I told my my family when my arms go, I’m going too!! I could hear my daughter asking me if I was going to go now? My family is dying because of this disease because it has taken over my house. My family will be better off without me! I’m a burden and all the doctors did was throw me in bed and drugged me up and ripped open my stomach because nobody wanted to help me. Instead they threw a colostomy and a urostomy bag on me and left me in the bed to die. My husband is dying inside my children are dying inside because nobody gave two shits about us, no doctor wants to really help us! I didn’t go to the doctor because I can no longer afford a caregiver and I had no one to drive me!” As I was screaming I didn’t realize that there were about 20 people in the room and people walking by. I just kept screaming how I was thrown away and nobody cared. It was easier for the doctors to just put me in bed because that’s what primary progressive MS does. You just progress and then you die. I’m sure I looked a sight, as I was ugly crying. I know that snot was running all down my face and most likely in to my mouth. I know, I know…TMI! This guy called me on my shit, no one does that!! And how did he know? How did he see my pain and how did he know I wanted to end my life? How did he know why I was really there?

Then, silence. I was breathing so fast and looking around the room. Some were crying, some just looking at me like they wanted to hug me. Someone handed me a lil’ box of tissues. Then his voice broke the silence. He said, “We’re going to make you happy again.” I looked at him like he was crazy. Didn’t he know, I have primary progressive multiple sclerosis, there is nothing he can do to help me or make me happy again. He smiled and said he’d be back. A few minutes later a woman entered the room. She was the psychiatrist on call. She looked at me and said, “You never sleep, do you?” I looked at her and said, “No.” She looked at my file saw that I was on Effexor and explained she would leave me on that, but she was going to add something else. Something that would, help me sleep and make me happy again. I looked at her like she was crazy too. I didn’t think they understood what they were dealing with. Dr. Muscles [I’m trying to find his real name] came back in the room to see how I was doing after my meltdown. I just looked at him and said, “Thank you.”

The next doctor he sent my way, changed my life!

Part 3 tomorrow. Sorry if my writing is not perfect. I never said I was a writer. LOL

Have Courage and Be Kind

 

I started this blog with the hopes of chronicling my MS and my thoughts, etc.. Im realizing that with Primary Progressive MS, there is not much to chronicle. There are no more medications for me to try; hell there are no medications for PPMS. Wait, I’m lying. There is ONE possibly coming to a drug store near you, winter of 2017. But, not for me. Yes, it will be the first medication for PPMS, but I don’t qualify. My EDSS score is too high. I’m between 8 and 8.5. In other words, I’m too far gone! Well okay then.

I sit/lie here 90% of the time. I’m not even sure where I’m going with this entry. I’m not even sure why I’m even blogging it. Maybe out of boredom. I guess this is my personal diary that I just happen to share. A place for me to come back to and ‘remember’, the good and the bad. A place for me to vent. A place where I can say whatever the fuck I want.

I just wish I knew how to get my thoughts out of my head and onto here. A jumbled crazy ass rollercoaster is the only way to explain my thoughts.

“Outlook is grim”, has been the description of two doctors regarding my life now. Well no shit… But, did you have to say it out loud!! RUDE much. 😛 And, I know I know, anyone can die at anytime. They could walk out of their house and get hit by car. I get that. That would be easy. We start dying the minute we’re born if you want to get technical. Picture yourself  lying in bed 24/7 while your body slowly but surely dies daily from illness. It’s not for the weak. With PPMS, there is NO cure, NO remission, NO parole. So, the next time you want to use the ole. “well anyone can die just from blah blah blah”…don’t!! Above all… DO NOT compare one illness to another, especially if you, yourself, do not have said disease. You will never ‘get it’ unless you ‘get it’!

Scary part is that sometimes I really believe I’m going a bit mad. Seems par for the course…

madhere

Just when things seem to be getting better, BAM, it hits the fan. This why I can not ever be the shiny happy positive person others want me to be. And I try, but fuck a lot of that!

Unleash the flying monkeys!!

I’ve left 2 messages for my primary care doctors office manager. My doctor turned a specific issue I’m having over to her. We spoke when I was at my doctor a few weeks ago and she was supposed to get back to me. Nothing, nada, nil. I’ve called twice and left detailed messages for her to please call me back. And, I used my nice phone voice. Nothing, nada, nil. The issue is quite a big deal for me. What has happened in the last 30 years when it comes to doing what you say in the workplace. FUCK!!

Unleash the flying monkeys!!

Now, to get my pain meds, you always need a scrip every month, no refills… all thanks to the wonderful druggies out there that abused the medication, and the doctors dumb enough to believe them. Normally I go pick up the scrip at the office with a quick check in every month. So, I called yesterday to see when I can pick it up, and they said they’d talk to my doc and call me back. Bahahaha, you guessed it, no call back. I’ve been going to my neuro for 19 years. WTF. So I called back and they said my doc will be calling me back. I have a real illness that causes real pain. To bad I can’t fake it, maybe then I’d get the medication I need. FUCK!!

Unleash the flying monkeys!!

Why, just why… Come on Universe, cut me a fucking break. I have an aggressive form of primary progressive MS. NO treatments available to me. I’m bedridden with double stomas, degenerative disc, muscle spasms, tremors, constant numbness,  and unable to do basic things like roll over in my bed or even sit up. I deal with severe anxiety and depression, complete and utter loneliness. What fucking more do you want from me? Sometimes death sounds very inviting.

Unleash the flying monkeys!!

But, fuck you, I’m not a quitter. And now I’m just pissed off. Do not mistake my disability for weakness. My mind still works and is smarter than you. Look out, here I come!!

Too late!! mwahahaha

Too late!! mwahahaha

Oh what a World…

fuckuend

 

done

 

MS is an evil bitch! For the first time in a very long time I’ve been feeling “happy”. I haven’t felt this way in quite some time. I learned many years ago to downplay my emotions. It always seemed to go bad when I’d mention the “H” word. lol Like the other shoe would drop if I even thought of it. And, BAM, it seems to be par for my course. The MonSter, that is MS, always jumps in to harsh my mellow. And the bitch is jumping on a trampoline right now. I’ve been doing pretty good. Home Depot is going to get my window issues fixed [knock on wood] and life in general is good. So, I should have expected something to happen. I always expect the worst and then when the best happens I get giddy. 😉 I know that seems like a bad way to look at things, but for me, it keeps me sane. Well, I tried looking for and expecting the best this time, and damn if MS didn’t pop up and mess my shit up again. I was actually feeling less fatigued and wanting to do things. But, no, she had to pop in and remind me of my ‘disability’. I’m feeling drained and out of sorts. Depressed and tearful.

I hear the saying, I have MS, but MS doesn’t have me, all the time. But, um, nope… MS does in fact have me. For me it’s all about how I handle it. I can fall apart and give in to it, or keep fighting. I chose to fight. I have PPMS [primary progressive]. My MS is no longer ‘invisible’. It’s out there and in your face visible. I am in the 10% group with my PPMS, and many have no idea there are different types of MS. This page, here, quickly explains the types.

Beotch!!

Beotch!!

I’ll get through this and keep pushing forward, but sometimes it gets so frustrating. I’m going to throw my pity-party for now, and everyone is invited! 😛

my mantra

my mantra

Now I am going to try and find that ‘happy place’ again. I may have lost the battle to MS, but I will win the war!!

Peace!!