No diagnosis.

Well, I shouldn't say that I'm surprised. As I walked into the doctor's office yesterday morning, I looked at the business card that said "Gastroenterology" on the top and realized that maybe this guy wouldn't have the answers I was looking for. However, since he was the last person I saw about being completely wiped out in June (when it may well have only been an infection of some sort, because my liver levels were through the roof), I figured at least he would send me for some tests to play the Elimination Game - we're looking to cross out any liver disease and anemia with the bloodwork he sent me for today. I have an appointment with a new endocrinologist next Friday, and if I still don't have any answers, I'll likely be going back to a specialist, hopefully in chronic diseases.

Honestly, the more I think about going to the doctor, the more I wish I could just bypass the Elimination Game and get to the part where they diagnose me with chronic fatigue syndrome. I've always been impatient, though. And maybe it will prove important to go through all of these tests to rule things out because hey, I just may wind up having something that is testable, diagnosable, and curable! However, recent webmd-searchin' and book-learnin' have taught me that not only do my symptoms match with those of CFS, but that doctors don't always know how or when to diagnose it.

Hopefully, a diagnosis is just around the corner, but until then, I'm set to head back up to Noho for a little bit and then onto Canada. I'll be taking it easy as best as I can with the people I want to see most, which, even sans diagnosis, will definitely be the best medicine.

Having a good week!

Seems I don't really write in here unless I'm stuck in bed, and it's a good sign that I haven't written in a while! My week has been great and has included seeing a lot of people that I love, who have helped immensely at keeping my spirits up. I finally have a set doctor's appointment on Monday, where I will hopefully get "official" answers as to what's going on. Seeing as how my last diagnosis was a sinus infection, I know that I have enough evidence to make a good case for CFS, if nothing else shows up in bloodwork.

I've been keeping a daily journal of how I feel day-to-day, and my goal for tomorrow is to make it so I can see things that happened over the course of a week, since it's been over 5 weeks since I first crashed. That should also definitely give me some credibility when it comes to getting a diagnosis on Monday. Not to mention that my daily range of motions still doesn't feasibly rise above being physically alive, awake, alert, enthusiastic for more than two hours a day, tops.

I will keep you posted!

Labour of love

This past week has been crazy. I moved out of Massachusetts and back into my parents' house in New Jersey, part of my car's radiator burst because it didn't like us trying to force it out of the ice hut that had built up around it while I wasn't driving, and my girlfriend officially finished her college career, which ended up quite nicely with us spending a couple lovely days in New Jersey when her flights kept getting cancelled.

Although we kept things pretty low key, I still wound up crashing super hard after she left today. On a scale of one to ten, with ten being fully functional and one being a vegetable, I was at about a two for bits of today.

When I get completely crashed out like that, I feel like my brain can't make the connections that it needs to. Everything takes longer; walking, if I can even get myself to that point, is laborious to the point of needing to rely on walls and other people to keep upright. Talking is more of an interesting display, as I can usually only spurt out several words before my brain cuts off my mouth's ability to keep going. The words are still going in my head, but my lips just won't make the sounds. Sometimes, I turn into a broken record and stammer out the last word a couple times, hoping the rest will follow, but to no avail.

Thanks to Wonderful Girlfriend, who is also known to crash pretty hard and has helped me recognize some of my triggers and how to prevent things from getting worse, noticed that this interesting display of brain-mouth fail often follows extreme hunger. However, when I get that conked out, I can't even sense that I'm hungry.

Luckily, now that I'm home, I don't have to worry about starving to death, since my mother always makes sure that the house is fed. I got up from the couch and got to the dinner table (a feat in and of itself), but facially declared that I wasn't hungry and was mostly confused as to how I was even sitting at the table, let alone with a heap of macaroni casserole in front of me. I didn't yet feel hunger, and even let my mouth try to babble about what I had been watching on TV. When that idea crashed and burned, I tried, slowly but surely, to bring a forkful of food to my lips. It finally reached my mouth, still no hunger, not feeling it... BANG OH MY GOD I HAVEN'T EATEN ALL DAY I CAN'T BELIEVE HOW HUNGRY I AM!!!!!!!!!!!!

Needless to say, I finished dinner with a lot more vigor and even managed to speak coherently about halfway through.

It's super past my bedtime, and this is a propos to nothing, but I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has shown me kindness, patience, and/or care as I figure out what to do with all of this. It means so much to me to hear how you're all doing and to know that you're thinking of me. I think I'm just going to take a completely stress-free week, which includes not feeling obligated to be social, but know that I'm still around, I'm thinking of you, too, and I'm going to be so happy to have lots of fun, low key things for us to do together when I work up the energy to be able.