In Which I Spread the Word About Jenny
That year of 1995, when I was having physical therapy three times a week? I hadn't been diagnosed yet. We didn't know why I couldn't walk, why the muscles in my calves had gone from being rock hard to being complete mush, why I was in excruciating pain.
Ultimately I got diagnosed, and over time I got better. Not perfect, but significantly better. Not knowing what's wrong with you is very difficult. Doctors not knowing what's wrong with you is very difficult. Doctors generally have big egos, so if they can't figure out what's wrong, they like to say it's all in your head. Psychosomatic.
Bullshit. Sure, there are some people who are depressed and feel physically unwell. At the time less than six months before I'd gotten sick, I'd failed out of college and my grandma, my biggest cheerleader in life, had died unexpectedly. It would have made sense if I had been depressed. I might have been. But my pain and weakness were separate from that.
Am I going to die? When will I get better? Should I give up this summer? This year? Being 18? If I will get better, will it come back?
These are all questions I asked that I needed answers to. When I finally got answers, I couldn't believe them, due to the way they were delivered. My belief then, and now, is that the doctors gave me the answers they hoped would be true.
It sucks to not have answers. There's a new Little Green, but her name is Jenny, and she needs answers. Please read about her, and after you're finished reading, please do what you feel right doing with the information you will then have.
I am a bitch. I hate swiftly and easily. And I would not wish what I went through in 1995 on anybody, not even if I hated them.
Ultimately I got diagnosed, and over time I got better. Not perfect, but significantly better. Not knowing what's wrong with you is very difficult. Doctors not knowing what's wrong with you is very difficult. Doctors generally have big egos, so if they can't figure out what's wrong, they like to say it's all in your head. Psychosomatic.
Bullshit. Sure, there are some people who are depressed and feel physically unwell. At the time less than six months before I'd gotten sick, I'd failed out of college and my grandma, my biggest cheerleader in life, had died unexpectedly. It would have made sense if I had been depressed. I might have been. But my pain and weakness were separate from that.
Am I going to die? When will I get better? Should I give up this summer? This year? Being 18? If I will get better, will it come back?
These are all questions I asked that I needed answers to. When I finally got answers, I couldn't believe them, due to the way they were delivered. My belief then, and now, is that the doctors gave me the answers they hoped would be true.
It sucks to not have answers. There's a new Little Green, but her name is Jenny, and she needs answers. Please read about her, and after you're finished reading, please do what you feel right doing with the information you will then have.
I am a bitch. I hate swiftly and easily. And I would not wish what I went through in 1995 on anybody, not even if I hated them.
Labels: I'm Hurt, Interactive, Little Green
posted by Green at 6/10/2008 10:13:00 PM
3 Comments:
I forwarded the link to my email contacts and on twitter. And then read this. I am thankful they figured out what was wrong and that you have improved.
What a frightening situation especially when you are young.
Thank you for passing this around..
You are a heroine. Seriously.
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