I'm Katie. Almost 23. I probably should've been a doctor after all of the medical trauma I've been through, but I still can't handle seeing/hearing/smelling people throw up.
I have a tendency to either really get along with my doctors or make them question their profession.
For awhile, whenever I walked into the Emergency Room, they stopped taking my information because the admit nurse remembered me and they had my information on staff.
A few of my doctors have taken to asking me "so, which medicine do you want for this round" instead of actually prescribing me things because they know that I know myself better than they know me.
I have my bad days--I cry, a lot. I actually cry a lot less than I used to. But I know what it's like to first get diagnosed, or to go from doctor to doctor without answers (uh, who am I kidding, I'm still there). I don't think that I'm an "overly strong" person, I'm just realistic about the cards I was dealt and after almost seven years of hell, you lose your ability to to see yourself as a strong person--it's merely the life you live.
I'm here to help. I want to help. I realize that nothing I have is life-threatening (at least nothing they've found--how's that for optimism?) but this is my life. 24 hours a day, I fight nausea. 365 days a year, I fight some sort of pain. I don't get a break. There is no cure, there are merely different ways of dealing, and hoping that some way of "dealing" works for a short period of time.
Ever wonder if maybe it is all in your head? If you're just making it worse by even thinking about the pain or trying to treat your ailment? Been there, felt that.
Ever had your friends or even family members tell you to stop being dramatic when you cringe in pain or don't want to get out of bed because you feel so miserable? How about being the joke ("Oh look, Jimmy looks as miserable as Katie")...yeah, I've been there, too.
Have you had to quit something you love because your body couldn't handle it anymore? Because it was just physically too much and your body said no? My heart goes out to you because that's been my life, too.
So, really, I get it.
Talk to me. I'll share my struggles. This is my story. What's yours?