There are people here at diaryland who only ever write about their health. And they do it in such a way that's so bloody irritatingly martyrish that I can barely stand to read them. And I'm worried that I'm turning into one of them. Or maybe I always was. So, I'm making a concious effort from now on, not to be those people. I will talk about my health - especially now, when it's really all that's happening in my life. But I will try to word it in such a way that isn't so incredibly irritating. So, I saw the hospital doctor yesterday, and I have a baseline diagnosis of some kind of inflammatory bowel disease. Which could be Crohn's, Ulcerative Collitis or Irritable Bowel Syndrome. The trouble that everyone is having is that all of my symptoms fall directly in the category of Crohn's, but the biopsies they took were negative for it. The fact that I have polyps this early in life is an early warning sign for bowel cancer at some stage - so obviously I will be having colonoscopies throughout my life. So perhaps it could be diagnosed later on (Crohn's, not cancer!) I would like to know why they can't give me treatment, assuming it is Crohn's, and see if I improve. But the treatment isn't the greatest, so they're reluctant to go down that road. When he asked how things were going, I was truthful, saying that the pain was fine unless I ate. He asked "So what ARE you eating then?" I told him the truth - a few biscuits throughout the day, and a few mouthfuls of SOMETHING for dinner. I acknowledged that it wasn't the answer, but that it was working for me at the moment, but he just got cranky and talked about nutritional deficiencies. I asked what I was supposed to do, saying that I didn't want to rely on pain killers to simply EAT, and he couldn't give me an answer except to tell me I'd be admitted if I couldn't manage more than what I was. So last night I had a smallish dinner, and, as expected, was in awful pain afterwards - which kept me awake all night and lasted throughout today. I was silly enough to try again tonight, and the pain was even worse - almost as bad as it was while I was in hospital. So, I don't know what to do. The other thing that's bothering me, health-wise, is that I just found out that I visited Emergency twice. They admitted me the 2nd time. I cannot remember this AT ALL. I can remember sitting in front of the triage nurse, and her saying to someone "I think we should get her onto a bed before she falls over", and feeling both relieved that I could lie down and embarrassed because a man waiting before me got pissed off about the priority I took over him. And that's it. The next thing I can remember is being in a dark place at the back of the ED somewhere, and having a lovely doctor looking after me, and her telling me she thought I had Crohn's, and needed to admit me. After that, I can't remember actually BEING admitted or any time spent in the ward until one night when the pain was terrible, and a friend of the family was visiting. I can remember everything from then on. But it really, really bothers me that I CAN'T remember ONE SINGLE bit of being there twice, or any of those gap periods. I must have been off my head from the dehydration. I've been told I was walking into walls and apparently I called work and told one of my friends that the walls were turning into the tv or something. I don't remember either of these things. It is the most disturbing feeling to know that you have been doing and saying things to people, and that you CANNOT remember them. It's scary to think of that lack of control. It's...disempowering and frightening. It's really getting to me, but no matter how many questions I ask about this time, I don't get any more memories back. Anyway. I need to get better. My grandmother sent my father $1000 for a computer he built for her (worth nothing). He refused to take it, and instead, put it in my account. (This is my father's way of showing affection. Presents/ money. So much easier to give than attention and praise. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate it, and the knowledge that he does it out of his love, I'm just trying to explain.) If I hadn't received that money, I would be completely and utterly broke. I have a grand total of a grand in the bank now, and no sign of health improvement to get back to work. I had about 15 000 saved up before I went away this year, as well as my car. The trip away, and time spent not working (and therefor eating up my savings) because of the anxiety and depression, and then the travelling trip to compromise on coming home, the car to replace mine that was written off in an accident while I was away, and now THIS... And it's all gone. My entire savings has just vanished in less than 12 months. I guess 15 000 isn't that much. But it was what I had... God, I'm babbling tonight. It's 12:30am and my eyes are really heavy. I think I'll go to bed...
