So. Much. Sickness.

It's been...a rough time.

It started out as allergies/a sinus infection the week before Halloween, so I had an antibiotic for that.

Except then, instead of getting better, it moved into my chest and turned into a respiratory infection, so I had to get a different antibiotic and basically lived on cough drops for several days.

I started getting better for a few days.

Then, I got the cold from hell. I knew it wasn't a sinus infection because my snot was clear (TMI? sorry), which meant there was nothing the doctor could do, so I just had to ride it out.

Except it wouldn't. end. I even got the fun sore throat and swollen lymph nodes to go along with it. And my usual regimen of Benadryl and Sudafed only seemed to make it angry.

I finally stopped sneezing a couple of days ago, but I still haven't shaken this chest pain and cough. And I've been having to do even more for my mom than usual because she got a tooth pulled on Wednesday, so she's pitiful and who really cares if I'm sick?

On the upside, my neurologist wrote me a prescription for a migraine nasal spray (who knew there was such a thing?), instead of just giving up on treating me like he was originally saying. It has the same central ingredient as the DHE infusion I did twice while I was at Campbell, so I'm cautiously optimistic. I've done it a few times so far. I haven't really noticed a difference, but my sinuses are still swollen, so I have no idea how much of this headache is also a sinus headache. That's the fun part of being screwed up on multiple levels. Ha.

Ha. Anyway, I'm tired. I have laundry to do. I just wanted to get on here and document what the past two weeks have been. In short: sick.

It's been a while.

So...oops?

I kept meaning to blog, but the past two weeks have been kinda rough, so the days kept slipping by, and it just kept becoming tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow.

Let's catch up, shall we?

We have air again, as of last Friday, so three cheers for that. That was a long two and a half weeks, but it just breaks my heart even more for what the people of Puerto Rico are going through. The timing of that definitely kept it all in perspective (most of the time).

I went to the neurosurgeon last Thursday. None of the tests he ordered showed anything, so he's pretty much at a loss for what to do or what is going on with my head. There is one more test he could do, but he's really hesitant because there's a high risk of infection, especially with me being a MRSA carrier, and we're pretty sure this test is how I contracted staph meningitis back when I was 17. Plus, he's not confident that this test will produce any results, since the other tests didn't, so putting me at such a great risk for what will probably tell us nothing seems like a dangerous idea. So I had him fax all of his records back to my neurologist, and I'm waiting for a call from him to see if he has any ideas on what to do. I can't afford the copay for the Botox (it's way more expensive than the Botox I did when I was still at Campbell), so I don't know if he has any other ideas. If he doesn't, I may go through with this other test from my neurosurgeon just to try something instead of giving up, because I am tired of being in this much pain. Otherwise, I'm kind of screwed.

Last weekend, what I thought was just allergies and my typical sinus issues moved into my chest and turned into a full blown respiratory infection. So Monday, I got to go to the doctor and get a stronger antibiotic than I'd been on two weeks before, a steroid inhaler, and meds for my nebulizer machine. Woo. Always something with me.

Most of the week flew by because I've slept a lot because I've felt like crap (as one does), but Thursday, I did make it to my psychiatrist, and she changed my depression. I haven't seen her in two months, because at my last appointment, things were going well enough that we thought I didn't need to come back in a month, but things have gone so downhill with me mentally since then that I knew I needed to change something. Luckily, she is awesome and didn't even question my request once I told  her about how bad things had gotten. I told her that I talk to my therapist every week, I take my prescribed medication every day, I do everything I'm physically capable of to take care of myself mentally, so I have to try changing meds, because I can't keep feeling this awful. So we'll see how this goes.

Hands down the highlight of the past two weeks, though, was the two hours I got to spend on Facebook video chat with Clayton today. I know I say this all the time, but I am so, so, so lucky and thankful that he is my best friend. No one makes me laugh harder or teaches me more, let alone all in the same conversation, than he does. He is one of the few consistently good things in my life, and one of the very few people that make me feel completely safe and free from judgment. I can talk to him about my relationship with God, my struggles, my anger, my frustration, especially with everything that's been going on with my head and the doctors being stumped, and he doesn't shame me for any of it. Instead, he reminds me not to shame myself, like I am prone to do. But what was different about our conversation today is that he actually put on his "Spiritual Director" hat (his words, not mine) and asked me about my prayer life and gave me some advice on how to broaden it and change my perspective on who I see God as in the midst of my current struggles. I'm used to talking through different stories and passages in the Bible with him, and he's taught me a lot about theology, but this was something totally new. And I loved it and totally appreciated it. He doesn't want me to stay in this rut that I've been in for a little while now of feeling angry at and abandoned by God. The level to which he cares for every facet of my wellbeing (physical, mental, emotional, spiritual) is very comforting and humbling.

I'll tell you one thing: I would be lost without my people. That much I know for sure.

The past few days.

You know your life is kind of sad when you are as excited to go to the doctor as I was to go to the neurosurgeon on Thursday.

Too bad nothing good really came of it.

The doc was irritated because my neurologist sent me to him before doing all the tests he could have done, and I didn't have all my records from Duke and my brain surgeries, because no one told me I needed to bring them. He needs to run a bunch of other tests plus get all the records from Duke before he can tell me anything. So I have to a) get Duke to fax him all my records, b) get Duke to mail me CDs of all my scans to bring to my next appointment, c) get a bunch of labs, d) get a shunt series (X-rays), and e) get checked out by a neuro-ophthamologist. I talked to my old neurosurgeon from Duke's office yesterday, and they emailed me a release form that I can print out, fill out, scan, and email back to them, so I've got to talk to my uncle tomorrow since he's bringing me meds anyway. I'll get the labs done next Monday the 25th at my primary care. The shunt series can be done as a walk-in next time I go down to see this doc. They sent the referral to the neuro-ophthamologist who will call me to make an appointment. Hopefully the fact that I don't have vision insurance won''t prevent me from being seen. Also, usually when a shunt is infected, there is redness around it, but there's not around mine, so that's a good sign; however, he's very concerned about how sensitive I am to touch on my head, so he "hopes it comes together quickly," because it's not a good sign that I can't stand for my head to be touched. If the labs and X-rays don't show anything, all he can do is tap my shunt, which he really doesn't want to do because of my history of meningitis (Duke docs are pretty sure I got meningitis thanks to them tapping my shunt when the valve broke). Meanwhile, I get to spend another month or so in constant, unexplainable, excruciating pain.

So...that's fun.

Yesterday, Mom and Mommom left for 10 days in Pennsylvania. I was going to go, but decided that I'd rather have 10 days to myself and hopefully be able to get some job applications done. (So far, that's been a no go thanks to my freakin head.) The silence is weird, but refreshing. My aunt and uncle are leaving on Tuesday, so then it'll just be me and Chelsea in town, but I don't even have to see or talk to her every day, so it's no big deal.

Today, I woke up feeling pretty good (well, pretty good for me, anyway) so I thought that after my afternoon of sports, I'd be good to get some work done. Ha! Guess again. As soon as the last game I cared about was over, my head felt so explosively painful I couldn't do anything but sleep. I can still barely turn my head. On the upside, the Wolfpack won, so there's something, I guess.

Sigh. I'm so tired of feeling like shit.

Here's hoping tomorrow is better. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. Story of my life.

This is the point where I start smacking my head.

Yesterday marked two months seizure free.

How do I celebrate?

By getting another 72-hour ambulatory EEG. Ha! At least this one is at my house.

Heck, even the guy who did the hookup came to my house, which was pretty sweet.

So he came yesterday afternoon at 1:00, and will be back Monday at 1:00.

I mean, in general, this is fine. There's only two annoying things about it.

One: I can't shower for three days. Gross.

Two: The itchiness rom the glue reaches an unbearable level within the first 48 hours.

Right now, the only part that really itches is my forehead. There are three leads stuck to my forehead with gel adhesive and tape. Obviously, I can't scratch at them or they can dislodge (one of them came off in my sleep last night) so my only option to attempt to alleviate the itching is by hitting where it itches.

So I sit here in my recliner, smacking my head. Repeatedly.

The video camera (because oh yeah, I have a video camera in my room for the weekend to watch me) is going to give off a very bizarre impression come Monday.

Now, I continue to wait.

I went to the doctor yesterday. To my surgeon Dr. H, specifically.

It was a combo post-op/let's discuss what to do next that won't kill you appointment.

I wish there were more exciting things to update about but my life is pretty much this crap and job searching.

In short, I have to go to a new surgeon, Dr. B, because Dr. H does not do open abdominal surgeries, and there's not a snowball's chance in hell we're trying a laparoscopy again.

Dr. H is going to call Dr. B this week and inform him on my case and the whole cardiac arrest thing. She's also going to see if there's any way I can get in to see him before next Friday the 8th, when I already have an appointment set up, but that's not a guarantee.

So I'll see him, then set up a new surgery for as quickly as I can get fit into his schedule.

The only unnerving thing about the whole appointment was that I learned my heart was actually stopped closer to two minutes than one, but what can you do? I am alive now.

After that, I went to my regular women's health care doc at the student health center to get the referral for the new surgeon, and I begged her into giving me some Vicodin because I almost passed out in Dr. H's office because of the pain from this week.

I know July 8th isn't really that far away, but I'm so tired of living in this pain all the time. And I'm just praying that it doesn't take weeks for Dr. B to get me into his surgery schedule.

Wishing and hoping and thinking and praying and waiting.

24

So remember how at the beginning of last month I posted that the lady I'd been seeing in the Women's Health department of the Student Health Center was sending me to an OBGYN specialist/surgeon to be evaluated for endometriosis? Well, I finally got to have that appointment today.

Many times in the past when I've gone to a doctor for the first time, it was a fight to get them to listen to me and work with me instead of acting like they knew my body better than I did. So I was honestly expecting to go in and have to beg this woman to fully evaluate me and agree to do the surgery. It didn't exactly work out like that.

The whole appointment took like twenty minutes. No joke. First the PA came in, looked over the paperwork I had filled out, asked me like five questions, and then said that because I can't have an MRI because of my shunt, we should just go ahead and do surgery, so he explained the basics of the surgery and then said he was going to go get the doctor. A few minutes later, the nurse brought me into the doctor's office. I sat down, and she asked me if I had any questions about what the PA said or the surgery in general. I said no other than when could we do the surgery, and this is where it got a little hard.

She said that after looking at my file and listening to what the PA told her, she is really concerned about what could be going on and wants do to the surgery as soon as possible. So she told me she has an available slot on the 20th and wanted to know if I could get a medical clearance from my primary care before then. The 20th of June. As in less than two weeks away. She said to give her a few minutes and then she would come in and examine me, so I told her I'd go ahead and call and see how soon I could get in to get the medical clearance. Well, I guess because it's summer and most students are gone, but my doc who is usually very busy could get me in basically any time I was available Monday.

Then the doc came in, started examining me and asked if what she was doing was hurting and where. I said all over, and she stopped and basically said "Yep, you need the surgery." I put my clothes back on, walked out, got a folder of pre-admission info, was told someone would call me tomorrow or Monday with info about where and when I needed to be for pre-surgery bloodwork and whatnot, and then I was gone.

When I walked out of the building, I felt like my head was spinning because it all happened so fast. That, and I wasn't expecting them to be able to do surgery so soon. It took more than a month for me to even be seen because she is such a busy doctor, so I thought it would be a while before she had an open surgery slot. Nope. Second, I found out that the surgery is going to be more extensive than I thought it would be because they don't believe in using the lasers like I was expecting.

And also, despite the fact that I've done this so many times, it's still surgery. I like to put on a face for a lot of people that stuff like this is old hat for me and just doesn't bother me anymore, but it does. It bothers me. It's still hard and scary and overwhelming. This is the kind of thing that doesn't get easy to deal with no matter how many times you do it. So by the time I got in the cab to come back home, I was not in a great mindset.

Luckily, I had the forethought last night to have some of my brothers praying for me. So I texted two of them and called one, and long story short, I got pep talks that only my boys could give. When I got to spend close to half an hour on the phone with Tunji, we had each other laughing hysterically. Laughter really is the best medicine. Then I got a nice long FaceTime date with Clayton which is always good for the soul.

But after I got off the phone with him because we were both exhausted, the silence set in. And maybe it's just my 100% extrovert personality or the fact that silence is terrifying for this generation in general, but when I have too much silence, I get way too caught up in my head, and that's when things get ugly. After a couple hours, I was a mess. Enter this guy.

This is my buddy August. He's one of the bouncers at the bar on the block that I mentioned yesterday.  I jokingly like to call him "my knight in a shiny purple headband." He was Jesus in the flesh to me tonight and not only made me smile and laugh, but also helped me get back to a place where I could focus on the truth: God is good and faithful and loves me, and all of this is just one more chapter to add to the incredible story I've been given the chance to tell. He is one of those people that just shines the light of Christ without even trying because of how deeply and passionately he loves everyone he comes across.

God is good, y'all. God is so good. I'm so thankful that I am getting this surgery taken care of, but even more than that, I'm so incredibly thankful for all of the people who showed up today. Near and far, I am surrounded by people who are invested in me, in my physical and emotional wellbeing. These are the people who pick me up when I'm down and refuse to let me go when they see me slipping into the darkness. Second to God, they are the reason why I have the strength that people see in me. There's no way I could do any of this without my Father, but there's also no way I could do this without my people. They are my lifelines.

I'm going to bed tonight with a smile on my face, and ten hours ago, I don't think I could've thought that was possible. Thanks be to God.

Call me Ms. Scratch. Minus the serial killer part.

(Criminal Minds fans will get that reference.)

My head itches so bad right now. I have an EEG hooked up to my head until Thursday morning, so that means not only do I have a crapload of glue and cream in my hair and tape all over my head, I can't take a shower so my whole body just feels gross.

But it was either this or be in the hospital for four days, so at least I get to feel gross in the privacy of my own room and don't have to have an escort every time I want to so much as go to the bathroom.

Mom gets here in one week! I'm so freaking excited. I know it's only going to get more real once I pick up my cap and gown, which I plan on doing Thursday after I go drop this machine off, because no way am I going there looking like this. I've been getting enough stares just here in my own neighborhood. Luckily, one of the guys who is a bouncer at a bar around the corner and also lives above it said he'd take care of me if anyone harassed me over it. I don't think it'll happen, but you never know. Drunk people get stupid.

In the meantime, I'll just be here chipping away at the paper and 4 assignments I have left to get done.

And trying not to scratch my head. That, too.

Putting A Name to It

Disclaimer: If you don't want to read a post about my lady parts, stop reading now.

I got my period right before my 12th birthday, and from the very beginning, it's been awful. I mean, absolute hell. Instead of it being a 1 week on, 3 weeks off thing, it was 3 weeks on, 1 week off. I once had one that lasted 56 days. Straight. Yeah.

I was on birth control for a while, until my neurologist thought that was playing into my migraines and took me off it when I was 17. Back to the hell that was my period. Birth control never did much for my periods, anyway, but the little bit of help that I got was quite noticeably missed when I went off the pills.

I went to a gynecologist back in NC, the one who had me get an ultrasound and go on a med back in 2011 because the lining of my uterus was too thick. We talked to her about the possibility of endometriosis because of the symptoms I was having and the fact that Mom had it (there can be a genetic component to it), but she was just sort of like "Eh, you're so young, let's not worry about that for now."

So I put it out of my mind. I told myself the pain I got every month was simply because of my lack of a thyroid (thyroid issues can also play into the whole mess). And then I got distracted by other health stuff.

But when my endocrinologist up here told me that she thinks I have mild PCOS and that I should get checked out at Women's Health before I graduated I went. My cramps had reached the point that they make my thighs hurt, and I knew something was wrong because it's not supposed to be that bad. But I refused to tell myself it was endo because I just really, really didn't want another thing to deal with.

I went back to see my doc there today because she had told me she wanted to talk to me about alternative forms of birth control since I can't be on the pill because of my migraines and seizures and the IUD wasn't going to work because it was too painful for me to handle being put in there in the office. Well, within five minutes, she started talking to me about how she suspects I have endometriosis and wants to send me to an OBGYN surgeon so they can schedule a laparoscopic surgery to see.

At first, I was just sort of like "Okay then" but as she was sitting there looking up doctors to refer me to, I just accidentally exclaimed "Damn it!" And she immediately knew why. She said something to the effect of "Yeah I know. With your medical history, I'm really sorry you have something else to deal with."

And that's basically what I was/am feeling. But I called Mom and told her all about the appointment and she said, "Well, if this is what it is, you've been dealing with it anyway. Now it just has a name." Which is true. She and I have suspected I have this for years, we've just never gotten a diagnosis. And if I have this surgery, then I can know for sure and treat it, which could significantly improve my life from how it gets every time my period hits. And that's awesome.

But I'm frustrated. Frustrated that I've got to go to another doctor and deal with another surgery, as minor as it is, and figure out how to treat another health problem without interfering with the many other problems I have. Frustrated that, once again, it feels like I can't catch a break, that as soon as I get one thing under control, something else to deal with pops up and it just never ends.

I was getting frustrated with myself earlier, too, because I felt like I shouldn't be upset about this because I'll finally get answers, but Clayton, God bless him, made it make sense when he said, "If my leg was hurting for months and then I found out I had cancer in my leg, I wouldn't be happy about it. I don't think you should be furious, but don't expect yourself to be happy, either." I'm not furious. I'm just tired and frustrated.

The most frustrating part is that I have to wait until June 9th to even see the surgeon because that's the first new patient appointment she had open, but thankfully, since I'm not graduating until September, I have full access to my student health insurance and all of that. So at least there's one good thing.

I know it's a good thing to put a name to 12 years of pain. And I'm sure that I'll get to the point of focusing on that soon. But I wasn't expecting to have to deal with this today, so for now, I'm just frustrated.

And that's okay.

This is how good God is.

Prayer works, y'all. Prayer works. 

I had my biopsy today. I was expecting it to be a miserable experience, but it wasn't too bad for someone sticking a needle in my throat three times. 

But here's the awesome part: I wasn't expecting to get any news today at all. Not only did the pathologist in the office look at it before I left, the doc came in and told me that her initial analysis says this thing in my throat looks to be nothing more than a lymph node. A LYMPH NODE. 

They'll have to do a full examination of the cells over the next week, but the doc said their pathologist is really good so her initial analyses are usually correct. 

My endocrinologist made me believe this was definitely a tumor, so in no way was I expecting news this good. 

I am so, so thankful to have had so many people praying for me. This is the biggest personal experience of prayer so clearly working I've had in a long time. 

God is awesome.

Anything

This week, I've been looking for anything I can consider a bright spot. I need to do it to keep myself from completely slipping into that dark hole. I was so happy to only have two seizures all of last week, and then I had five in two days this week and I got knocked off my feet again. So these bright spots, they keep me moving forward.

Hugs from my Spiegel guys.

Singing for Clayton on his birthday Tuesday, and the text he sent me in response to the post I put up on Instagram for him.

Emma getting into NYC today.

The Anima Series getting their Kickstarter fully funded. (!!!)

A good appointment with my neurologist today, with more hope than we've had in months.

Encouragement from Ashley.

Managing to stop two seizures from coming on. A big surprise.

And Jay, my sweet British love. We were talking on Facebook yesterday, and I was being honest about how I've been feeling down lately, and he wrote back "We should have a Skype date this weekend. I bet I can make you smile." I told him thank you, that that was exactly what I need, and he said "Anything for you, honey xx."

That interaction reminded me all over again of just how lucky I am to have the friends that I do. Friends who would do absolutely anything if it meant they could make my burdens easier. Friends who will say or do anything necessary to keep me from giving up when they see me slipping. Friends who are hundreds or thousands of miles away but love me and support me like there's no distance at all between us.

No matter what is going on, they are my one constant bright spot in the midst of this hard life.

Progress. Finally.

So I had two more seizures on Sunday. God bless my friend Christian, that's all I can say. He's starting to feel like my guardian angel.

After that, they decided to admit me and kept me hooked up to a video EEG again because 7 seizures in 8 days is just not okay.

We finally FINALLY got some answers. It turns out I have a mix of epileptic and non-epileptic seizures. The epileptic seizure happened in my sleep, which is crazy because that's the first time I've heard of that happening.

So it's back to therapy for the non-epileptic seizures, and it's gonna take more trial and error to figure out what to do for the epileptic seizures, but at least with it marked on video and EEG, Friedman has something to go on.

I'm so happy there's finally progress. And also, I have a doctor who was determined to treat me no matter what kind of seizures they were. Which is vastly improved over the treatment I was getting in NC.

Sunday night to Thursday morning, that's where I was. I got out and spent basically all of Thursday sleeping. Hopefully things will get better from here. Friday will be a bunch of errands and phone calls.

Last Day of Class

It's official! I finished classes for the second semester of my Master's program today. So all that stands between me and completely finishing my first year here at NYU is three papers, and those have to be turned in by next Thursday, so the end is in sight! I love it!

Also, I may or may not have been working on one of these papers through my evening class today, because listening to that man talks seriously bores me to tears. Everything he says just drips with condescension and I can't deal with it. I definitely put "No" on the "Would you recommend this professor to a friend?" question on the survey. #icannottellalie So I worked and got several pages done. Yay me.

In other news, I finally got to have an appointment with my neurologist today, and we got a medicine plan in place to taper up this new med to maybe finally get these stupid seizures under control. Only time will tell, I suppose. And as it turns out, it's not him I have a problem with, it's his annoying NP, as she wasn't there today and I liked him just fine. So there's an interesting realization for me.

Isn't this pretty?

I didn't realize until today just how bad off the lower half of my right calf and my ankle and foot are. Because yesterday, I just thought I was sore. Today, it's like all of that is just one giant bruise.

And those were taken before I put my ice pack on it and my calf turned greenish-purple.

Also: notice the awesome sock tan line...

Yeah. Like I always say, there's a reason my parents didn't name me Grace. It's like they knew. I'm hoping these are all just swollen bruises, and that nothing is seriously wrong in there because...this is a big city...yeah.

Needless to say, thank the good Lord I have a doctor's note telling my bosses to let me sit down at work, because I definitely never would have made it through work today.

Also a great point of gratitude: my cortisol test came back normal. We'll repeat it at the end of April, but for now, it looks like I am in the clear. I'm so thankful for the army I had backing me up through all of this, the ones keeping me in check and being confident when I freaked out.

I was absolutely beat today, so it's time for a good night's rest. I've got a lot of school work to do tomorrow.

So. Um. Yeah.

So apparently I definitely have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I heard it as a possibility years ago, but now the bloodwork my endocrinologist just did apparently proves it.

I also might have Cushing's Disease. I don't even fully know what that is but I have a blood test to confirm the diagnosis next Thursday. Then if that is positive I need to have some more tests done to see if it's caused by a tumor.

Having a diagnosis or even a possible diagnosis to years of problems is something to be thankful for. But the word tumor kind of scares the hell out of me.

The good news of today is that I got my complimentary dance lesson scheduled for Monday. So I have that to look forward to.

Smiles

Smile 1: My class was canceled today. Don't know why, don't really care.

Smile 2: I found out why I'm in pain. My thyroid levels were off again, so I had to go see the endocrinologist again today. She's very condescending and snappy, but she gets the job done. Well, the explanation is multi-faceted: I've been taking iron tablets on order from my primary care doc and she either didn't know or didn't bother to tell me that iron tablets can mess up the absorption of the thyroid med, the Prednisone I was on for a month because of the terrible asthma attack completely shut down my adrenal glands and they're just now restarting, and my primary care doc tapered me off the Prednisone too quickly. All three of those things together sent my body into a bit of shock. I should be back to normal within a week or so. Hallelujah.

Smile 3: So when I was coming back home to the apartment after that, I was in a really good mood. I was lip syncing and dancing to "Uptown Funk" on repeat the whole way, and truthfully, I did not care what I looked like. Well I take the 6 to the F to get home, and when I got to the F platform during my transfer, this guy stopped me and said, "Excuse me, I'm just curious what you were listening to on the 6 platform. I saw you singing and dancing and you just really made me smile because I felt the joy from you. You really brightened my day." I love how even in just being a goofball lip syncing and dancing to a song while walking home, I was able to make someone's day a little better. Don't tell me God can't use the small stuff.

It's late. I'm tired. I actually have to go to class tomorrow. Good night.

Always

I only slept from about 2:45-7:00 this morning. The pain in my hips and legs make it impossible for me to get comfortable in any position, even in my precious recliner, so sleep has been limited since this started.

At 8:32 I got an email from my friends at The Anima Series titled "I will bless the Lord." This is an excerpt:

Making the choice to love, bless, and praise Him always, even when we don't feel like it is the sign of a mature faith. So bless the Lord today. Bless the Lord always. He never changes, and that means He is always worthy of praise.

I didn't realize until tonight just how well-timed that message was.

Long story short, while my doctor was able to eliminate some of the scariest things as possibilities for my pain that has continued to get worse, she couldn't tell me the cause. Of all the things she tested in the bloodwork she took on Friday, every single one of them came back perfectly normal. My muscles aren't breaking down, I'm not even close to having diabetes, my kidney and liver functions are great, I don't have the slightest sign of an infection anywhere in my blood...I didn't know I could produce medical results that good, basically.

But this soundly stumped my doctor, whom I greatly respect and trust. She even went to go consult her director because after she read the results aloud, she looked at me and said, "I...don't know what's going on." The end result was she took some more bloodwork to test hormonal imbalances and check my thyroid levels (which I needed to have rechecked anyway) and all that stuff, and if that all comes back clear, she's going to refer me to a neurologist that specializes in nerve issues, because after talking with her boss, the only other thing that they could come up with is nerve misfirings.

I didn't make it out of the exam room before I started crying. I just really wanted an answer because this keeps getting worse and I'm miserable. AND I got a phone call this morning and I have to go in for my first day of training at Walgreens tomorrow so I was absolutely terrified about making it through that in this much pain. So I got panicked.

When I got back from the doctor, I called the three people I turn to first, also because I knew they'd want to know: Austin, Mom, and Clayton. Luckily for me I called Austin first and caught him in the like 3 free minutes he had before work. And he was my encourager and supporter, as always. He's so good at reassuring me, just being there, and he will just listen to me vent if I need to cry. Mom is my reality check; she reminded me that I've dealt with a lot worse and therefore will manage to suck it up until we get this figured out, and that from what I told her of the doctor appointment it sounds like it's either steroid withdrawal (which the doctor said is pretty unlikely at this point because it keeps getting worse) or fibromyalgia and both of those are manageable. Clayton is my prayer buddy. He's the one who will pray over me when I don't know how to put what I'm feeling into words. No matter what, we end every conversation in prayer and every time we finish, I feel my body, mind, and heart settle down.

It was when I was talking to Clayton that I actually remembered that email from this morning. In that moment, I became so grateful for how my perspective changed in just 3 conversations. I cried in the exam room that I knew He was there and I just wanted to have some peace, and He gave it to me in spades. What else could I ask for?

I don't know what is going on in my body right now (but really, what else is new?), but that doesn't change who God is. He's good if I'm out living my life, He's good if I can't get out of bed. I praise Him because He is good when things are working out, I need to praise Him because He is still good even when things feel like they're falling apart. God is always good and always faithful, so He always deserve praise. It's that simple. I hope I learn to remember that always, in good times and in bad.

Faithful You have been, and faithful You will be
You pledge Yourself to me, and it's why I sing
Your praise will ever be on my lips, ever be on my lips
Your praise will ever be on my lips, ever be on my lips
-- "Ever Be", Bethel Music

I sing out and remind my soul I am Yours. I am forever Yours.

I went to the doctor today to try to get to the bottom of this truly terrible pain I've been in for the past week+. I kept waiting for it to get better and go away, but instead it just got worse, so I broke down and went to the doctor because I need help.

In true story-of-my-life fashion (at least that's how it feels), it's either nothing or something really, really bad. She said it could simply be a bad reaction to coming off the Prednisone that I was on for a month, but the words "fibromyalgia" and "rhabdomyolysis" were also tossed around a good bit as possibilities. You can click on those links and do a little bit of reading if you don't know what they are, and you will quickly see why we really, really do not want either of those to be the answers. She took a bunch of bloodwork to try and rule them out and told me to come back on Monday.

So now I get to wait. I get to wait until Monday and try not to get caught up in my own head with fear. I was so hopeful that this semester would go more smoothly than last, since I actually got to come back to school and my shoulder got fixed and was doing so well until this pain started. And now I'm scared that I'm going to have to deal with something else big and painful that's going to stand in the way of me surviving up here. I'm supposed to start my new job at Walgreens next week. How am I going to do that if I can barely handle standing up right now? It feels like my body really is falling apart, and I"m only 22.

But then I opened my Bible tonight to continue my nightly reading (though I missed the past few days from the sleep deprivation), and what's the first thing I see? John 9:1-3:

As he passed by, he saw a man blind from birth. And his disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" Jesus answered, "It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him."

Whatever this is, and everything else that I've dealt with in the past, it's not God punishing me. It's not because I'm a sinner, God loves me so I know that He doesn't want me to hurt, but He can absolutely use this for His glory and my good. I just have to hold tight to the promise that He is exactly who He has always claimed to be.

I read two extra chapters tonight to make up for missing the past two days, and when I got to Chapter 11, I found verses 21 and 22 in the story of Lazarus:

Martha said to Jesus, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you."

Martha was upset because she lost her brother, but she still chose to trust Jesus and his power. And if Jesus had come earlier to save Lazarus from dying, the people would not have been able to witness the miracle of him bringing a dead man back to life with nothing but three words. Bad things happening to me, that's not an excuse for me to turn my back on God. It's a reason for me to come closer to Him than ever before.

Two years, ten months, and one day ago (was it really that long ago? wow), I made a promise to give my life to the Lord. A God as faithful as He is deserves a faithful follower. God is the only reason I'm still alive right now; my only option is to trust that He's not done with me yet.

I told God that I wanted whatever He has for me, good or bad, all of it. Now is the time to live up to my word. Whatever Monday brings, my God is the same as He was yesterday, last month, and the day I got baptized.



If my heart is overwhelmed, 
and I cannot hear Your voice.
I hold on to what is true
though I cannot see.

If the storms of life, they come,
and the road ahead gets steep,
I will lift these hands in faith.
I will believe.

I remind myself of all that You've done
and the life I have because of Your son.

Love came down and rescued me.
Love came down and set me free.
I am Yours, I am forever Yours.
Mountain high or valley low,
I sing out and remind my soul
I am Yours, I am forever Yours.

Sometimes I even amaze myself.

My anxiety got all out of whack as soon as I laid down last night, so I didn't fall asleep until after 3:00 this morning and then had to get up at 7:00. Ugh. 7:00 isn't even fun when you're well-rested.

I went and got an EEG.

Then had a check up with my neurologist. They upped my seizure med again because of the one seizure I had in early December, and it looks like I'll be spending at least part of my Spring Break in the hospital doing another one of those video EEGs where they force me to have seizures. Ugh. So much fun.

Then I went to the post office and finally mailed back the wrong size phone case that I ordered.

Then I went to the pharmacy and got a med I run out of tomorrow.

Then I ate lunch and watched Chicago PD from last night.

And THEN, I finally got to take a nap for a little over three hours. Which was glorious.

I messed around for a bit after that, ate dinner, watched some TV, waited for the girl who was subletting the roommate's room to come pick something up she forgot when she moved out.

I texted with Mom while I was trying to start working, but she was in a good and weird mood tonight so she was very talkative which meant my phone was going off every 10 seconds which is not very conducive to work.

But then the Wolfpack game was starting, so she got busy. And I worked while checking the live stats every two minutes. We lost. It was stupid and totally avoidable. Oh well.

And guess what...I finished Paper #2 tonight! Actually I finished it and emailed it in right before I started this post. 30 pages, 7,500 words, in four days. Basically 24 hours ahead of schedule. I can't believe I pulled that off, but as Emma told me, I've got one hell of a work ethic. :)

Now I only have the shortest but most difficult paper left, but I am very very tired now, so I'm not going to think about that right now and instead think about the fact that I'm proud of myself for getting two of three papers done in eight days and a whole day before I expected to have them both done.

Good night, world. I need some sleep. Hopefully it won't be so difficult for me tonight.

The low and high of Monday.

Low: Okay, remember that neurologist that postponed my surgery? Well, today, I opened up a $700 bill from him...Yeah, because nobody at any point bothered to tell me that he doesn't take my insurance. As if I ever would have taken the appointment if I had known that! Especially because the surgeon's assistant called me as I was heading to that appointment with another doctor who was willing to do the clearance for me. And now my surgeon's assistant was all "Well I don't know if anyone else is going to be able to clear you now because he's the only one that has seen you at this point." Well, too freaking bad because I don't have $700 to pay this bill, let alone another $700 for a second appointment. At least this time we have two weeks to figure it out, instead of two days. I just have to have this neurology clearance before I have the full physical pre-surgery clearance on November 12.

High: But I have a good update in regard to my loan problem! I got an email from someone I had contacted for help, and she sent me a link for a page on the NYU website that has a whole list of private loan websites. So there are a lot of options still open for me and a whole lot of possibility! Seeing that made me feel a whole lot better.

The rest of the day? Meh. Same old. Class, food, reading, doctor appointment, trying to stay awake.

On to tomorrow.

SMH

That's text speak for "shaking my head."

So I'm getting more annoyed with the neurology people I'm now a patient of by the day.

Last week, in an attempt to appease me as I sobbed in pain, anger, and frustration, the doc and NP told me that they would set me up with a pain management doctor to help me survive the next four weeks until I'm allowed to have surgery. That was the one good thing they did or said that day. I was busy trying to stop crying listening to the NP sound totally condescending, so by the time I went to check out, the receptionist lady was already on the phone and asked me what time I wanted for the pain management appointment. She wrote down the address and time and I was on my way and didn't think anything more of it because I was just really happy to get away from them.

Fast forward to this afternoon for my appointment. The imbeciles did not send me to a pain management doctor. They sent me to a rehab doctor, a doctor whose job is a mix of diagnosing injuries or helping people get back full function post surgery. NEITHER OF WHICH I NEED RIGHT NOW. So I don't know if they lied to me or they're just stupid or what.

The silver lining of wasting an hour of my life waiting to see a doctor I shouldn't have been seeing anyway is that the woman felt so sorry for me for the bad directions and for the pain she said she clearly saw that I'm in that she wrote me a prescription for Vicodin that will last me at LEAST until I see my surgeon next Wednesday. She was very kind and didn't talk down to me or act like she knew more about me than I do or anything like that, which was a nice treat compared to the neurology people.

So maybe I'll sleep for more than four hours at a time tonight for the first time in weeks now that I finally have something to at least take the edge off the pain. Vicodin doesn't help much, but it's better than nothing.

I'm really, really glad I don't have anywhere to go tomorrow. Mostly because I have a whole lot of reading to do. Ha. Go figure. But for now, I sleep.