Over ten years ago my life changed drastically. I went from working fulltime, as I had done since age eighteen, to not having a job and no way in the foreseeable future of getting one
A mysterious sickness had taken over my body. Doctors could not explain to me what was happening. I lost sixty pounds in less than three months. I was passing out at work. I became dizzy, nauseated, and disorientated very easily. If you touched me I would scream in pain. Panic attacks were coming at me left and right.
A typical day became, wake up, get ready for work, sit in my car, and start shaking. I dreaded calling into work to say that I would not be coming in that day. I hated being at work and letting them know I had to leave for the rest of the day. Some days I would make it into work and others not.
I had already been through four major back surgeries. I knew what pain was. I know how pain tastes. Being young when I had my first back surgery showed me how people only see what is on the outside of a person. While recovering from any of those back surgeries I would get nasty looks from older people when I pulled into handicapped parking spaces.
Once I came out of a shop and the police were talking to a van parked next to my car in a disabled parking spot. The family in the van had seen me pull up, park, and get out of my car. They had called the police on me for illegally parking in a handicap parking space.
I walked out of the shop, saw what was happening, and I asked the police officer if something was wrong. The whole family glared at me behind the windows of their van. The policeman politely told me that nothing was wrong. I made my way to my car and overheard the man arguing with the Officer about me.
Turning around I walked back to the van and proceeded to explain that in the last six months I had had a back surgery that went very wrong in the operating room and I was deemed disabled. I then spent six long months upstairs in a very small bedroom taking pain meds, sleeping on icepacks, and playing mind-numbing video games.
To have another back surgery to see if the doctor could fix what he had messed I had to wait six months. (I was not going to be in that much pain for the rest of my life.) Lastly, I explained that less than eight weeks ago I had my third back surgery and I was finally healing. I then thanked him for caring, got back into my car, and drove home.
When I say I am no stranger to horrible mind-numbing pain, I mean it.
From the age of eleven I delt monthly with having endometriosis. At the time no one knew this, even me. I knew about endometriosis because my Mom had it. She could not have children. My brother and I were adopted for that reason. In my mind being adopted meant I could not have endometriosis.
Having endometriosis at a very early age teaches you to not let your body get the best of you. You learn to deal with pain at an early age. You learn that some months your body will not let you leave the house. You adapt. You roll with what life has to offer. In my late thirties, I finally had a hysterectomy and never looked back.
My son is a miracle in more ways than one.
The mystery sickness, I now found myself with, made me angry. I am still working on anger issues to this day. The mystery illness has a name called fibromyalgia.
My son, @Ecoinstant, saw his Mom losing her spark for life. He did the best he knew how to try and make me care about something. He never gave up bugging me to learn to blog. I owe him for making me want to live in the world again.