I really can’t tell anymore.
A week ago I stopped taking the Florinef and Midodrine–and it’s been a shit week.
But I also brought a lot of it on myself.
Monday I worked out (very lightly) and Wednesday I worked out (again, very lightly.)
And then on Wednesday I only slept for two hours during the day. And I went out at 5:30pm to my mom’s house, and then to dinner at my Aunt’s. I was out for a little over five hours. I had a sleep attack on her couch and when I woke up I felt dizzy, nauseated and confused.
I spent the entire car ride home with my head out the window trying not to vomit.
The next day I stayed in bed all day, more exhausted then ever. By Thursday night I was writhing with joint pain. I took a pain killer. I took another in the morning when I woke up with a migraine. I was nauseated all day.
The weekend went pretty quickly downhill after that. I was able to go out to dinner with R.J on Friday night and crashed pretty immediately afterwards. Saturday I went for a reflexology massage to see if I could kill some more of the pain without taking any more drugs.
We had considered having people over that night, but after a three hour nap in the middle of the afternoon I woke up feeling, if possible, even worse.
I called a local urgent clinic that usually gives me breakthrough IV’s on weekends or holidays, but they couldn’t take me after six o’clock so I had R.J drop me off at another clinic.
I was already pretty strung out so the anxiety of thinking I was going to have to do the whole “I have a rare disease” song and dance was making my headache worse. Talked to two nurses who took my BP sitting down, standing up, asking me to pee in a cup until I said to just bring the doctor in.
I told her I needed an IV and that I had POTS—
And she said–”Oh! I know who you are! You’re one of Dr. Santa Maria’s patients.”
Which left me pretty stunned. Apparently they’d talked about my case.
“Well, yeah–let’s get you an IV. Right away.” And she walked me to another room.
I felt like crying I was so relieved, which if I wasn’t so dehydrated I probably would have.
I quickly got hooked up to an IV and put an ice pack on my head. Afterwards I felt like I’d eaten a full meal after being on empty for a few days. I felt like sleeping.
Today, Sunday, I slept most of the day except for a twenty minute trip to Target where I bought soup, frozen cheese-less pizza and fig newtons.
I also wanted to go to the pet store to get Happy some food, but couldn’t find a handicap parking space (or a parking space within a mile of walking distance) so R.J went in ahead of me.
I’m also still running into parking problems in my own neighborhood. Allow me to illustrate:
Slept another three hours. Blearily sat on the couch until dinner.
Just wasting time until science happens and tolerable stimulants rain down from the fucking sky.
And the most frustrating part of it all? All my blood work came back last week. Pretty much everything was normal. No infection. No raging mono. Just pure and simple chronic fatigue.
Seeing a new immunologist this week. Just let me tell you how excited I am about that.
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