Frustration!

I hate it when frustration gets the best of me. It really has with me these past few months. It all started last May. Towards the end of May, I started feeling really bad physically. My symptoms were nausea, diarrhea, feeling tired, severe heartburn, low grade fever, pain in my abdomin, and the feeling of utter depression because the doctors I went to couldn't figure it out. Like I said, these symptoms appeared May of 06. To me, I assumed it was because finals were getting to me. It was my first semester at Hinds and I took a 16 hour load. That's hard so, I thought it was just stress from finals. That can bring out those symptoms. But they didn't go away.

School ended and I started summer. I just relaxed and tried to focus on the next semester. Well, I couldn't relax because my symptoms not only were not letting up but they were also getting worse. I was worried, my parents were worried, my friends were worried, and my church family was worried. We started out going to MEA and the doctor assumed it was food poisoning that was making me so sick. He prescribed Phenergan and told me to go on with my life.

The Phenergan worked. The nausea would let up when I took the Phenergan but it wouldn't last long. My parents never asked me what was wrong. They just assumed that whatever I had was gone. That was until one Wednesday morning I was awake before my mom went to work which is not normal for me. It was summer. I usually slept later on weekdays. But that morning, I was awake very early because the nausea and diarrhea had come back in full swing. So, I came out of my room and my mom very nonchalantly asked me why I was up so early. I informed her that I was still very much nauseated. What were her words of encouragement? "Well, go back up to MEA." Well, duh! Even I could have told her that! I do understand that I don't show my pain easily but come on. How could you not see that I wasn't feeling good? I wasn't eating, I was pale, I just laid around the house. I only worked one day a week at that time and it was at FedEx Ground in a very hot warehouse with no air conditioning. Every Tuesday, I would call in and tell her that I was sick. My boss got so annoyed that she said the next time I called in and said I wasn't gonna be coming in to just not come in at all and turn in my uniform. But I hadn't told her why I wasn't coming in until I came in the next week. I couldn't get in to see the MEA man until the following Monday. But the Tuesday before I came in to work and I told her a little bit about what was going on. She told me that that didn't sound like food poisoning to her.

That Monday, I went back up to MEA with my father. Dr. Byrd was very concerned that I was still feeling these nauseated attacks and still experiencing the diarrhea. This had been going on for well over a month by now and food poisoning, I know for a fact, does not last that long. The doctor was beginning to think that I was pregnant. But I wasn't pregnant. I am a Christian woman and I don't believe in sex before marraige. Not to mention I'm only 20 and I don't need a child. I was 19 at the time of all of these examinations. So, after a dozen pregnancy tests, Dr. Byrd was finally convinced that I wasn't pregnant. Now, he was really concerned. My fever was getting worse and the doctors couldn't explain it. So, they sent me to get an ultrasound done.

So, that was Monday and the doctor went ahead and prescribed me more Phenergan to take for the nausea until we could figure out what was wrong. Well, here's a funny part to the story. My dad and I were at Kroger waiting to get the pills filled. My ultrasound appointment was for the very next day. Keep in mind, I work Tuesday's from 10AM-6PM. I had to make the phone call that I dreaded. I remember, my father was talking to my mother and he told me to go ahead and call Gloria to tell her that I wasn't coming in to work the next day. With a sigh, I pulled out my cell and found her speed dial number. I waited until she answered. Here's how that convo went down. I spoke first. "Gloria, hi. Listen, I have something to tell you." "Okay. What's up?" "I won't be coming in tomorrow." She sighed and said "Why?" "Because the doctor is concerned because I still feel the way I do. He's sending me to get an ultrasound done tomorrow." Here's where she went off on me. "You could have made that appointment for any other day of the week. You did not have to schedule it for Tuesday. You only work one day a week. You couldn't have made that appointment for another day?" This is where I got really upset with her. Wanna know why? She worked before I did. And she only works about 2 hours a day. Her paycheck is less than mine because she would only clock about 6 hours EVERY TWO WEEKS. Well, this is where I got upset with the conversation. "Gloria, I did not schedule the appointment, okay? The doctor did. You only work two days a week and I work one. I clock more hours than you do. You wanna fire me for smarting off? Fine, but I'm not coming in." "Oh, yes you are. Or you won't have a job." "Well, if I do come in it won't be until the afternoon because my appointment if for 10 that morning."

Now, keep this in mind. My dad is standing two feet from me carrying on a completely different conversation with my mother about what's going on. We're all upset and frustrated because we don't know what the heck is goin on with me! When my dad heard me raise my voice and get upset with her, he went into Papa Bear mode, if you know what I mean. He told my mother to hold on a second and he came to me with his hand out. "Give me the phone." He instructed me. Now, I'm a good girl. I respect my daddy. We trade phones. I'm upset but not at the point of crying yet. I get on the phone with my mom while my dad talks to Gloria. I got on the phone with my mom and our conversation consisted of her saying, "Is she giving you a hard time with this?" "Yes. She's mad because the doctor made the appointment for tomorrow. She's telling me to come in tomorrow anyway." In exact words, and I'm quoting her. I don't talk like that. "Oh, hell no, you're not. You're sick, damnit. You're not going into work. Period." "I know this. Dad's talking to her now." By this time, he had hung up on her and had now taken back the phone and finished his conversation with Mom.

Once he got off the phone, I asked him what his conversation was with Gloria. He informed me that all he said was that the doctor set the appointment and it wasn't my fault that I was sick and that I would not be coming into work tomorrow and if she doesn't like it, it doesn't matter because my health comes first. Now, I love my father to death but I'm not a minor. I can fight my own battles. But he very quickly informed me that it didn't matter. My voice was rising and that indicated that I was getting upset. And that is why he took the phone from me.

The next day, my parents and I went to the imaging place and got the ultrasound. Now, came the waiting. When the ultrasound results came in, my doctor called me right away to inform me that he saw what looked like sludge in my gallbladder. That could have been guessed because my mother had gallbladder issues when she was about 25 and I was not far off. We assumed it was hereditary that this would happen. So, after going to a gastrointestinal doctor, he told us to immediately go to Lakeland Surgical and get set up for surgery. So, we did. Surgery took place that next Friday. But that didn't help matters, for you see when they took the gallbladder out, they saw that it was working to 100%. There was nothing wrong with my gallbladder and the issues continued.

So, the battle continued. I ended up quitting my job at FedEx Ground when I was offered a babysitting job for a friend of mine. I would be picking him up after school each day and watching him until his mother came to pick him up. But in the midst of all that, I was still having the same symptoms as before. The fever had gotten better but it was still just enough to make ya miserable, y'know? It was as if I had an annoying stomach bug that wasn't bad enough to make me barf but just as annoying because you're nauseated and you have diarrhea and that fever that just makes you feel really miserable.

Fall came around and I had another appointment with my GI doctor as well as an Internal Medicine doctor. But those would come a little later in the season. I started school again and it just so happened that my first class was with a teacher that was very sweet. She was a very good listener and I could talk to her about anything. She was a real support system because my parents got tired of hearing me complain about what is wrong with me. They know that I'm sick. They know that I feel like crud but they got tired of hearing it so, I stopped complaining.

There was one day in particular that I was feeling really really bad. I just happened to be up in time to see my mom leave. She saw that I didn't feel good yet didn't say a word about it. My dad never asked questions about how I felt. He was the kind of person that you had to go up to and say "Hey, I don't feel good" to or he wouldn't ever think you're sick. This morning, however, I hadn't slept well the night before so, I was tired. And on top of that, I was still feeling pretty bad. (The doctor had prescribed a running prescription of Levsin and Phenergan for the nausea and diarrhea.) I knew this was a morning that I was running a nice sized fever. Not only that but on top of the nausea (I had gotten the diarrhea under control) I had a headache! And this was the day I had Algebra and Psychology. Both classes that I have to think in! Ugh. But the good part was for Algebra, my support system was my teacher, Mrs. Sapen.

I had taken a Phenergan and a Levsin the morning before I left for class. But I took them at about eight or so. I had class at 9:30. I leave me house around 8:30 to get to class without too much traffic of people coming in or out. (I usually would be there about 9 or 9:15) So, by the time I got up to the school, I was not only tired from the fever and nausea but I was also tired because I took two pills which cause the side effects of being tired, sleepy, and dizzy! So, I could hardly make it up the steps. But by the time I would leave class that day, I would be well enough to drive. Don't think I was DUI of pills lol. But when I got up to class, it was right about 9:30. Usually, I'd get up there earlier because I liked being the first one in my Algebra class to carry on a nice conversation with Mrs. Sapen about her children and what happened the weekend before. (All of this happened on a Monday.) But that day, I came in right at 9:30. And I was quiet. And the thing about me is I'm not a quiet person. If it's someone I know, I talk their ear off. And you put me and Mrs. Sapen together, we will talk for hours if we could. She knew about everything that was going on with me. And I told her when I am really quiet, then I'm not feeling good at all. This morning was no acception.

I came in with droopy eyes and slumped down in my seat. This was the day we were working on our review for a test that was coming up but she did a couple of problems on the board. And the thing with me is when I know an answer, I'll say it out loud very clearly. That was just my personality. But this day, I didn't answer a question. And this worried Mrs. Sapen. It worried her so much that when we were working on our reviews and she was walking around the room, she stopped at my desk and bent down to my level. I had my hand on my head, looking down at my paper working and trying not to think about my body betraying me in so many ways. But she bent down to my level and said, "Look at me." Of course, I minded her because she was my teacher. I looked at her. This was a day that I wasn't wearing my glasses. I had them on my desk but they were making my head hurt worse. She looked at my eyes and my face and said, "You don't feel good today. Do you?" I just shook my head. She felt my forehead and got this sympathetic look on her face. "You really don't feel good today." Again, I nodded. "Go home, hun. I won't count you absent." Of course, I tried to tell her that I was okay to stay but being in 'Mom' mode, she woudn't take no for an answer. I touched base with my Psychology professor and came home.

Of course, my dad asked me why I was home so early and I told him what was going on with me. He got this look of confusion on his face and said, "Oh, you're still feeling bad?" DUH?! Where have you been? I've been feeling this way since May. Of course, I didn't say any of this and I just told him, "Yes, I still feel this way." So, he asked me if I wanted to go back up to MEA and see what they say. I looked at him and said, "What good would that do? They haven't been able to help me before. What makes you think they can help me now?" Of course, he saw that as a smart elect remark and got on to me for smarting off at him. So, he told me to call my mom and ask her what I should do. She works up at St. Dominic so, she had connections with doctors and such. So, I called her and her reaction, if you can believe it, was just like my dad's when I told him. But she made connections with Dr. Layne (My internal medicine doctor) to come in adn see him.

So, I went in and saw him and he said that they will have to do an endoscopy and a colonoscopy on me to figure out what's wrong. And have you ever had an endoscopy and a colonoscopy? Oh, you haven't? Well, do yourself a favor and DON'T. Preparation SUCKS. You take pills that gives you the worse cramps ever (and I've never been pregnant so, I have never experienced labor but this felt like close to it.) and then when the first bowel movement occurs, you have to drink this nasty tasting, luke warm stuff that is suppose to "clean out" your digestinal system so the oscopies look right. It was so bad. But the next day, I go up there and they put me under and I get the colonoscopy and endoscopy. Now, I go in thinking "Alright, they're gonna go in here, find out what's wrong with me, and I'm gonna be all better!" Wrong. Two weeks later, I get a phone call from my GI doctor who tells me that they found nothing wrong with me! Can you see where the frustration is starting to come? Now, my parents are thinking that it's all psychological. Which is just fancy words for I'm faking it. Okay, first of all, why would I fake nausea? I hate being nauseous. I hate throwing up. I hate diarrhea. I did not just pretend all of this to get medicine. My symptoms are real. They are not in my head. I would love for them to live in my body for one day. One day to see the kind of grief I go through. The nausea. Oh my word, the nausea. Pregnant women complain about morning sickness. This is ten times worse because I've had it for an entire 9 month span. I'm worse off and it's not fun. And I'm losing the support of my parents who are getting annoyed because I'm still taking the Levsin and the Phenergan. They think I don't need it. But the nausea is bad enough. But try having a fever for the past 9 months. And then add on top of that, the medicine that I take makes me sleepy. AND on top of THAT, diarrhea SUCKS.

I tend to draw the attention away from me. Now, on top of the nausea and crap, I've had stomach bugs, two in the last 3 months actually, that add on to my frustration of feeling like I'm gonna barf. But a bombshell was dropped on our family this past week. See, two weeks ago, my mother and I simultaneously came down with a stomach bug that lasted us for about a week (5 days.). Well, my dad was feeling puny and dizzy much like our symptoms two weeks ago. A week ago Sunday, my nephew and his parents were in town. My nephew is 14 months. Well, Sunday, (I got hit with the virus first so, I was over it by Sunday) my mother stayed home because she still had the bug. She stayed home from church. Me, on the other hand, I had to be up there to teach my kids Sunday School and run the infants nursery like I often did. Dad is the video director for the church so, he had to be there as well. Beth and Sean (Will's parents) were not awake yet but Will was by the time it was time for me to get ready for church so, I went ahead and got him up and dressed and we packed him in the car and Dad and I took him with us to church. I took Will with me and Dad went up to the sound booth. Now, keep in mind, though my virus was over, the same nausea I felt every day was still felt now. But this morning was no exceptation. I felt so bad I thought I would barf right there in the church parking lot. But I stood still for long enough and my stomach calmed enough for me to get inside and sit down.

Church went on and I was stopped by a good friend of mine named Wesley who quickly informed me that my dad wasn't feeling good. His words to me were, "Why did you make your dad stay when he's so sick?" Well, this was the first I've heard of this. I looked at him with a confused look and replied, "I didn't know he was sick." I found him and he didn't look good at all. I asked him what was wrong and he told me that he was dizzy and he had blurred vision. Well, scared for Will's safety, I asked him to let me drive home. Of course, he refused but I was watching very closely the road so he wouldn't hit anything. He came close but never did and we made it home. I quickly informed my mother that he wasn't doing too good and that was that. Mine and my mother's assumption was that he had contracted the same virus that had plagued both me and my mother. And that was that.

The next day, he went up to MEA to see what was going on. I had class that morning but when I got home, I had a message on my answering machine. I checked it and it was my father telling me to call him. Of course, I did right then and I got his voice mail. So, I still didn't think anything about it. I thought he'd tell me that he needed me to clean the kitchen because he was stuck up at MEA or something like that. Well, he called me back about five minutes later. This was our conversation. I spoke first. "Hello." "Hey." "Hey, what's up? I had a message from you on the phone." "Yeah, I need you to put a load of clothes on the wash for me." "Okay, I can handle that." "Okay, do that for me. Thanks." "Wait, what'd the doctor say?" There was a pause before he asnwered. "I'm on my way to the hospital." I had to grab the wall after hearing this. "What?! What's going on?" "I was just told I have diabetes." "Well, my word, Dad. Way to drop a bomb here. So, where are you going? St. Dominic?" "Yeah, I've already called your mother. I just need you to put on those clothes."

That was the extent of our conversation. But right after I got off the phone with him, I called my mother. Here's how our convo went. "Hey, did you know Dad's on his way to the hospital?" "Yes, he called me right as he found out. His level when they checked it was 567." I almost passed out. That's coma level if you don't know. "What?! He didn't tell me that." "Yeah, but calm down, honey. He's okay." "He's not okay." "Okay, he will be okay. Look, call your grandfather and get him to bring some stuff up to the hospital for him. I'll call him and tell him what room number." "Well, what about me? Am I just suppose to stay here and wait?" "Someone has to stay home to manage phone calls. Plus, you'd be bored up here at the hospital. Just wait until tomorrow. Chances are he's staying the night because his level is so high." "Okay." That was the extent of our conversation. So, I gave the list to my grandfather and he took everything up to the hospital.

The initial shock didn't hit me until the next day. I got up early (this was Tuesday morning. I didn't have class until about 11) and drove up to the hospital. Oh, but that's not the only thing that happened. On my way up to the hospital, I get pulled over! Without thinking or paying attention, I didn't see the police officer until it was too late and he clocked me going 70 in a 55. So, he pulled me over and, of course I was upset. But I still couldn't cry. You would think that something like this would cause me to be upset. He came up to my window and this is how that conversation went. I spoke first. "Hello, officer." "Hey there. What's your hurry? You were going 70 in a 55." "My father's in the hospital and I'm trying to get to him to see him." "Okay, let me see your license and proof of insurance." So, of course I mind him, not wanting to get him mad. He went back to his car and I guessed checked my license. He came back with the ticket. "First ticket?" He asked. I nodded. "It's not as bad as you think. You can call this number and you take the driving course and it won't go on your insurance. This is a warning. Next time, I'll pull you over and give you a ticket that you actually half to pay." I thanked him and made my way up to the hospital. I was in better spirits because the officer told me that I didn't have to pay anything. So, I told my parents about my ticket and other than a "Don't speed again" speech, they were okay with it.

Later that day, I went on to class and when I got home, I looked for the ticket to take care of it and call the number. I couldn't find it. So, I called Flowood Police (that was where I got the ticket) and explained my situation and everything. I was quickly informed that I would have to pay for not only the ticket (which was about 165 dollars) but for the class as well and after that then I can take the class and get it off my record. Now, wait a minute. That is not what my police officer told me. He told me that because I was under 21, I could take the driving school course and I would only have to pay for the 40 to take the class. Of course, I was upset and because I couldn't find the ticket, I feared that my parents would be furious and kick me out of the house or something. So, I casually went back up to the hospital and told my parents. They were less than thrilled but then we remembered that a good friend of ours is a police officer. So, my dad called him and he told us that it was not right that I had to pay for both the ticket and the class since I am 20 and not yet 21. But he needed the ticket number or the officer's name to take care of it. Well, I couldn't find it.

That night, my dad was able to come home. Mom was a little bit behind us. I got home first and destroyed my car looking for the ticket. I took apart my purse and my room looking for it and I couldn't find it. Well, that sinking feeling came into my stomach now. I heard my dad pull up. I slowly walk out of my room and he sees me. "I need the ticket." He said to me. Here is how that conversation and reactions were. "I can't find the ticket." "I need the ticket. You need to find it." "I can't find it." "What do you mean you can't find it? I need it. Go and find it." "I can't find it. I've looked..." I couldn't get that out and he went off. "It can't have just walked away. Get out there and find it now." "I CAN'T!" "Don't yell at me." He started to say something else but I held my hand up abruptley and walked past him towards my car. "Hey, wait a minute! Get back here NOW." By this time, I can't hold back tears. I come back to the kitchen, and tell him "Dad, I can't find the ticket and you won't believe me! So, I'm going out to my car to look again. Please, just let me go and look!" And I stormed back out and he didn't say a word. My mom is pulling into the driveway by this time. I open my back door and start shuffling all of papers and such. My dad wasn't far behind. But not to yell at me. To help me find the ticket. I am upset and I'm crying at this point because the pain and every other emotion has now hit me full blast and I can't hold back what I'm feeling anymore. The pain of my unsolvable disease, finding out my dad has diabetes, and now on top of it losing a very important ticket had finally hit me and tears from back in May have finally come out.

Well, we still couldn't find the ticket and I get out of my car frustrated. I start back up to the house, still crying slightly and my dad called to me. I turned and walked to him and he got me in a bear hug and I just let go. Tears from months and months came out on my father. And I'll never forget his words. "Hey, what this is isn't something to cry about, okay? This is no big deal. You wanna know what's really something to cry about? Finding out you have diabetes." Of course, the ticket wasn't the only thing I was crying about. That was just the straw that broke the camel's back. (And even as I'm typing what happened that night, I'm crying because it brought back memories of that night.) I nodded to him and said, "I know."

There's been a lot of things that have happened to me. And I do understand that when you have a disease for a long time that no one can solve, sometimes the focus goes away from you. I do understand that. But the frustration of everything just came out in full swing and it was hard. Really hard. It was probably the hardest news for me to swallow. And of course, I don't want to bring attention back to me because of everything that's going on but I still have an unsolvable disease. I mean, diabetes is horrible, I know. But at least he knows what's wrong with him. No one can figure out what's wrong with me. And that's frustrating. And it makes me want to cry so hard every night. The nausea, the diarrhea, the fever, everything. It's not fun. And I just wish that the doctors would figure out what is wrong. I have no support anymore. My parents just shrug it off as my being dramatic. I'm not being dramatic. And I've never gone this much detail in my life. But this was important to me. Because once May 2007 comes around, I would have whatever this is for a year and it's still unsolvable. No, instead, the doctors I go to make me take pregnancy test after pregnancy test. If I was pregnant, then I would have had the friggin baby by now because I've gone through this for an entire pregnancy. Come on, people, get the hint. I'm not pregnant, I don't have manic depression, and this is not psychological. This is real. And it sucks. And I just wish someone would understand. The only one that would actually listen and sympathized with me I haven't seen since I got out for last semester. Now, I don't have anyone. And it's frustrating and tiring. I want this solved! And God bless you all if you read this entire thing.