My migraine, neck, and back issues have been flaring up on and off ever since my bad MRI experience almost two weeks ago. I feel like I’m not getting anything done and am struggling to get the bare minimum of my daily routine done. All this has me feeling depressed and has killed my enthusiasm for the new book I started writing.
The logical side of me knows the pain will eventually subside, but while I am stuck in this misery it feels infinite and everlasting. Chronic pain wears you down, destroys creativity, and can stomp all over your goals – at least anything short term. I hope I’ll be back to normal someday soon.
First off, I want to thank the person who made a supportive donation to my blog through Paypal today! I believe this is the second donation I’ve received that way and I really appreciate the support! If you are interested in ways to support me, please check out the Support My Blog page on this website.
Also, I got some good news today that I don’t have to do the second part of the MRI that went disastrously last week. That is such a relief. I was afraid if I did the rest of the MRI it would just trigger another migraine. The MRI results I did receive were pretty good, with no seeming worsening of my cervical issues! Thank goodness!
I did have to visit the GI doctor today and found out I need to have an endoscopy, which I am nervous about, but I realize it is important if they are to find out why I am having such horrible bouts of esophageal pain and difficulty swallowing. At least I will be sedated for the procedure and hopefully won’t feel or be aware of what they do. My appointment for that test isn’t until next month, so at least I get a little break from medical tests.
That headline is not an exaggeration. First off, my MRIs went bad. I had MRIs for my brain and neck scheduled last night, both with and without contrast. I didn’t even get to the contrast part because the first part gave me a migraine, triggered severe neck pain, and gave me a major panic attack. I was almost sobbing by the time they got ready to give me the contrast, so they sent me home.
I left feeling embarrassed for not being able to keep myself from crying in public yet again. I also felt feelings of failure as I couldn’t do something as simple as completing two MRIs. Now I have to contact the neurologist that ordered the tests and tell him I wasn’t able to make it through and see if he wants to make separate orders for the contrast part. So, I might have to go through it again soon.
Also, we ate at a local restaurant yesterday that served me some bloody chicken. I didn’t notice right away because the blood pooled beneath the chicken breast. Anyhow, last night I got really sick and had to sleep with a trashcan beside me. I took both Mylanta and Zofran and nothing helped the nausea. I suspect I might have gotten a little bit of food poisoning from the underdone chicken.
At least I’m not fighting down vomit anymore, but still feeling nauseated and sick. Understandably, all this has made my mood rather blah too. I just want to huddle under the covers and hide from reality right now.
Yesterday I saw my psychiatrist. We spent a lot of time talking about the dark, morbid interests I have and whether those might be contributing to my depression and anxiety. I’ve always been drawn to studying the dark side of things, whether it be the occult, serial killers, suicide, the dark side of history, horror movies and books, or psychopaths. I know these interests may not be the best things for my mental state, but they are all things that fascinate me and it is hard for me to resist things that fascinate me.
At one point in the conversation, my psychiatrist asked if there were any happy interests I have. I told him I love cartoons, but then I told him one of my favorite cartoon movies is Anastasia, which he pointed out is about the mass murder of the royal family lol, so maybe not so happy after all.
Today I have an MRI scheduled on my head and neck to try to figure out what might be causing my recent migraines. I’m really not looking forward to it. I hate MRI’s, especially on the head and neck because I feel really claustrophobic and hate not being able to move for so long.
If Edgar had a muse
to hassle and abuse,
why not I?
Enter those raven’s wings
and all terrible things
from finer days gone by.
I finally passed the 1k mark for blog followers! Thank you so much to everyone who has supported my efforts and made my life more full and rich! You guys have no idea how much you help my mood and keep me going! If it weren’t for the encouragement I get for my poetry and art on here, I’m not sure I would create as much of it as I do.
THANK YOU!!!! Love you all ♥
The past few days have been rough. My back went out again, so my upper back and neck have been causing extreme pain again. I think the gluten free diet isn’t really helping much, as all the things I thought it was helping have suddenly flared up the last couple weeks. My GERD has been awful to the point I’ve had trouble swallowing again, the night sweats are back, and I seem to be having a widespread inflammation flare-up again.
I know I shouldn’t have put so much hope on the diet to solve all these issues, but I feel like I’m so desperate for something to make me better that I often put high expectations on each new treatment idea, hoping it will be “the one”. Of course, I probably need to accept that since I have Ehlers Danlos (a genetic connective tissue disorder), that nothing is probably going to be that cure-all I have been hoping to find.
How I wish that there was a cure to whatever is going on inside me. I often long for one of those scanners like they have on Star Trek that could easily pinpoint exactly what is going on and what the treatment should be without being invasive. I guess I was born too early for that. We might be headed that way technologically, but it is probably well off on the horizon.
(Art for sale on my Ebay store)
For my own poor health
the truth must be told –
my mother, I remember,
was heaviest, the faintest –
sinking the small pulse
of life within me.
I later roused myself –
dreaming over the cool
night air in the suburbs.
I turned again to
my mother, my sister –
but I was the sole
of the family.
(Poetry by Maranda Russell)