Loops

So I had written this entire post that was published for about ten hours before I decided it was too personal to leave online for my dad's boss to stumble upon. I had visions of hanging out with his coworkers at a dinner party sometime, with somebody having background knowledge that I didn't want him to have, and me realizing this only after he says something that hints to this knowledge. Then I would have to avoid him for the rest of the evening.

Let me, instead, speak slightly more abstractly. Here is the problem: I have some medical issue that is pretty freaking sensitive. It has affected my health, my feelings of well-being, and my relationship. I have worked for over two years, and seen at least ten doctors, in an attempt to get a diagnosis. I have been falsely diagnosed with a variety of mild-to-serious illnesses, diseases, viruses, and "issues." Each diagnosis has since been proven to be inaccurate. I cannot tell you how much money, energy, and time I have spent in doctors' offices since I began suffering, and how many doctors I have had to have a follow-up visit with when treatment wasn't working.

Last Tuesday, I went to see a super duper specialist, the one who was to be the light at the end of this infernal tunnel. Her conclusion? "Yes, something's wrong. I can see that..." When I asked her what it could be the result of, she said plainly that she had no idea. Her suggestion was "psychological trauma." In other words, that this is all in my head.

I am at the end of my rope. I don't know who to turn to or what to do now, and I am really, really getting down about it.

Luckily, I have an extremely understanding boyfriend. He says and does all the right things, and I wish I could express in words just exactly what it means to have him standing by my side through all of this. I cannot talk about these problems with most people because of the nature of the condition. It's a horrible cycle of pain and shame and fear and frustration, constantly on repeat and with little relief.

I have been referred to the Mega Specialist in France. I can't get any higher up on the scale for these kinds of issues. I'm a little nervous to see her, because if she can't help me, no one can. At least not in this country, where health care is still reasonable and I am still covered. Meanwhile, I have been researching quite a bit on my symptoms and situation, and have found a tremendous relief in reading other women's stories like mine. Some had to go ten, twelve years before getting a diagnosis. I cannot imagine it, but at least I know I am not a complete freak.

It is truly frustrating when the one person who you look to for help turns around and suggests it's all in your head. It's crushing. I broke down in her office and wept. She was understanding about it, but I felt ridiculous trying to tell her that I am in no way traumatized while crying uncontrollably. I pray that my next visit goes better, and that I might be able to get some answers.