Dreams to Ashes

I feel… Weak. I just avoided stepping down from a place I would have no problem with before. I used to jump to climb things for fun. I’ve been trying to walk to keep my muscle tone in my legs, but I think in turn I’m somehow making them weaker, and more numb with every passing day. The pain never ends, the numbness is almost comical. My balance has all but left me. I try not to rely too much on the pain cream I’ve obtained to soothe my nerves. The past few times I’ve gone for a walk, I beg to whatever deity that will listen that I don’t fall. 

My neurologist is non-existent. The high-rated one I tried won’t take my insurance. None in the area are any good. I’m not sure where to turn. I’m not sure who can help. I fear I may have to start using a cane soon, and what of by the end of it all? By the time I’m finally seen, will I be forced into a wheelchair? 

Knowing all the things I love, and all the dreams I had, am I okay with the idea? No. Already, only one person close to me even cares enough to know I need help, and I feel as though I’m a burden for putting all the weight on them, even though it’s out of my control. 

Everyone else insists I’m fine, or one in particular person insists they have it too, and it “isn’t as bad” as I say it is. 

I’m tired of it. I’m tired of this. I’m just tired. Sometimes I think my dreams seem sweeter. Even with my gory, bloody nightmares. At least I could run. At least I had some form of control. At least, by the end, I could always find a way out. 

I feel as though, I am watching the life I always dreamed of, burn slowly to ashes right in front of me; and no matter how many tears I cry, the fire won’t go out.

Advertisements

Who Am I?

I was never very “fit” in the sense I was never a skinny little size 2. But I had great physical strength. At 10, I could carry about 100 pounds fairly easily. I spent a lot of time outside and loved to run. I would catch just about every illness there was and scrape my knees just as much, but I would heal quickly and everything was fine. 

When people define me, they say strength. But, I don’t think they think of emotional strength. They mean physical strength. Now that that has been fading as far as my legs go, which was the strongest part of me. I used to be able to lift my boyfriend. Now it’s hard to carry two frozen lasagnas to the stove, because my legs wobble and it’s like I’m wearing the cursed red dancing shoes. 

Unfortunately, it’s a comical jig that’s being played by a jester. Falling is usually inevitable. 

With this definition that I’ve believed, for all my life, of this strength… I feel as though I am losing myself; losing who I am. I feel as though, as the things I am expected to do throughout the day become harder to deal with, I don’t know who I think I am anymore. 

Perhaps it’s my pride stinking me like a cold whip. 

I don’t think anyone believes I am in pain. I don’t think they realize it. 
In other news, my appointment with the Neuro-Bozo was unfruitful. Go figure. I tried to call another neurologist, one that’s supposed to be much better. I haven’t gotten a call back yet, but I hope I will soon.

Face of Me

I express myself through many ways. Traditionally – with my face. And through my art or fashion. Through photography and through my laughter and tears. Through my kindness. Reminding myself that no matter how dark it is, there has to be moonlight somewhere. The single tiniest positive in a sea of negativity is the thread to hold on through the storm. I’m trying to wrap that sucker around my waist and hold on. I hope you are too.

Guess What

It happened again. I was talking to my mother and standing wheny legs decided to give out again. I think I’m getting better. Instead of crying like I usually end up doing, I just cursed my frustration. I’ll probably cry later when I’m not in the presence of my mother. 

My legs are freezing. It’s beginning to become more and more annoying.

Let’s see how long this one lasts…. Sigh…

Yesterday

So, let’s talk about yesterday. 

I went to this supposed neurologist. I get there, and he checks my reflexes and has me walk a short distance and then tells me “tests” are normal. Also, tells me that “there is nothing that can only last hours and stop.” 

Haha, no, bub. There is, I’ve read about numerous things. Amongst these “tests” he put a vibration tool on my legs and on my way out, my legs start getting sore. Like electricity was zapping through my veins. It continues to get worse until I was in tears and swallowing screams. My concerned boyfriend then pointed out that my legs were exceptionally pale, but my toes were bright red. Almost as if all my blood rushed to the tips of my toes and stayed there. 

Since then, the pain has died down a bit, but it continues to get more painful to walk. Every step I take feels like my bones are breaking crack by crack. 

I looked up this “nuerologist” on Health Grades. He had a rating of 2 stars, and according to many reviews, he refuses to touch men. Which is why I am very glad my boyfriend came back with me. 

He was rude, impatient, and didn’t like questions.

I have my nerve conduction and an MRI on my spine tomorrow morning, but something tells me that I’ll be ending up finding somewhere else again. 
If anyone has any idea what specifically could cause my issue, thoughts would be highly appreciated.
Temporary paralysis, numbness, inability to move or feel my legs mid-thigh down. No senses. No movement. Legs pale and ice cold.

When I am able to move again, a tingling feeling happens in my legs and after about 10 minutes I can move them slowly, but weakly again. Longest episode being 9 hours as of date.

Now with pain when I walk and increasing.

Don’t Know

So, according to my doctor, it sounds like my breast has gone and filled with fluid again. However, if it keeps doing it this quickly, I need to know why and what to do. 

I can’t keep driving to a place that is over 3 hours away every week, let alone 2 and 3 times a week. It just can’t be done. 

Thankfully, my boyfriend should be getting his car back from the body shop soon and he can just take me. My mother hates driving in big cities that don’t have back roads, and for some reason, all of the actually good hospitals and doctors seem to be in that area. 

It escapes me why I’m surrounded by idiots that seem to have gotten their medical license from the bottom of a cereal box, but in the worst place possible, there are good doctor’s that know what they’re doing and are willing to help you.

I can’t keep doing this. As is, there is a lot of stress going on in my home life, and this doesn’t help in the slightest.