I’ve been struggling the past couple of weeks while dealing with all of my various broken bits. I was floating along alright prior to the flu kicking me while I was down. It feels like the wind has been permanently knocked out of me. I have another appointment with my doctor tomorrow for a general assessment to make sure I’m still getting along okay outside of ’round the clock care. I’m doing my best to stay hydrated, and to keep a steady stream of nourishment flowing into my gut. My stomach has other ideas, and generally isn’t too excited about the prospect of food, but I’m fighting it as much as it’s fighting me. Fuck you, stomach! It’s 4 days til Candyland, and you won’t ruin my mission to face plant into a pile of heart-shaped candies.
It can be difficult to judge if I’m making progress overall when I’m in the middle of an extra dose of illness, and also when progress happens so slowly that I’m unaware of it. I never know how to answer a simple question like, “are you feeling any better?”
How I’m feeling is so subjective, and is usually more linked to my mood than my health. I’m not saying my health doesn’t have a big impact, but if I’m feeling ill AND depressed, chances are I “feel” 10 times worse, regardless of my physical state.
I think I feel better than I did a year ago, but if I look at from a pure health perspective, some things have gotten worse. I’m not sure if it’s simply due to waiting so long to get the Crohn’s under control, or if it’s all because of medications I’ve trialed over the past few years. If I were to simply stop taking my medication, a large part of me believes I might actually feel better. I felt pretty awful prior to my diagnosis, but the only thing consistent exposure to healthcare has done for me is make my conditions clinically worse overall, and give me a raging case of white coat anxiety. The former could be coincidence, or not.
I’ve become so reliant on doctors to be the gauge of how I should be feeling, that I’ve lost some of my natural intuition when it comes to the state of my body. I don’t see much progress happening, outside of a most decidedly less pissed off set of intestines. At least it’s something. If only I had the patience to be more patient with myself and the process of healing. It took years for these problems to manifest, so it makes sense that it’ll take at least that long for them to be remedied. Hurry it up, already. You’re cramping my style.