The Land of Denial

I don’t do sick well.  (Nice pun to start the entry, eh?)  To be ill is to be a burden.  I mean, really it is my job to work with sick people, not be a sick person.  I’m not one to get a cold or a simple virus, oh no, when I get sick I do it with gusto.

 

I’ve been known to catastrophize and then minimize my symptoms.  I’ve also been known to think that I have made up my symptoms.  I begin to think I’m a hypochondriac or worse, I begin to self-diagnose a la the DSM-IV.  Surely it’s better to have malingering disorder and be crazy than to actually need surgery, right?  Typically I go through the illness and then after wonder if I exaggerated symptoms. 

 

These are my typical thoughts:  Did I really need that knee surgery? (Even though I kept dislocating it every time I swam.)  Did I really have that much pain to be prescribed painkillers and go to the ER? (Even though I was sent for an appendectomy and kept inpatient for 5 days.)

 

My current, and yes, greatest is:  “Did I just imagine the blood in my urine?”  Surely I’m making this up right?  This all began last Friday night when I seriously stared into the toilet bowl for about 5 minutes wondering if I was supposed to be having accompanying pain.  I gave it another hour.  Nope, still blood.  Huh.  I began to self-assess.  (This is a dangerous proposition for someone who is used to medical trauma and knows that the nurses make fun of the stupid reasons people think they need the ER.)  Yup, I had an airway, circulation and I was breathing, ok so I must be fine! And then doubt set in.  I know!  I’ll call my doctor boyfriend (never mind that he lives 2000 miles away)!  He didn’t seem that concerned so I waited until morning when I asked my Mom.  She was extremely concerned.  Ok, so my ER viewpoint is a bit skewed, I’ll admit it. 

 

Long story short, I have been in and out of the doctors, on medication, finally felt the pain, given more pain meds, had blood work, CT’s, referrals to specialists, etc..  I’m really not supposed to be at work right now, but I keep thinking I’m not that sick.  They aren’t really certain what is wrong with me except that my tests are all abnormal.  (I keep thinking they will say, “We didn’t find anything,” but they don’t.)  Ok, so it’s a little scary because my Grandmother just died from bladder cancer and my boyfriend already saw his ex-girlfriend through a kidney transplant.  But really, I don’t feel that sick. 

 

What does really settle in is the emotional piece.  I think I’m different.  Other people get sick, I don’t.  I’m not certain how much to share with people.  Apparently I look sick (keep getting comments), but I can’t stand the pity.  I’ve seen chronic illness cause divorce, bankruptcy, grief, and dependence (whether on the medical system, loved ones, or medication).  I don’t want any of that…then again, who does?  (See, this is where the catastrophizing piece comes in.)

 

I tried staying home Monday.  I was tempted to go out and garden, so then I felt guilty that I stayed home.  I could hear my Mother’s voice, “If you’re sick enough to stay home, you are sick enough not to go play.”  However, when I spoke to my doctor she thought I should be home.  (Doing what?!?) 

 

I don’t have a solution…they haven’t come up with a medical test for that one yet.