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.

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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.

Trouble

Today, I can already tell is going to be a problem. Last night I couldn’t get to sleep no matter how hard I tried because I was in so much pain. This morning, my legs still hurt, but are wobbly, yet stiff and heavy feeling. 

Yesterday I was tripping through the store. Things I progressing, and I don’t like it. It makes me worry that my next “episode” -as my mother calls it- might be permanent. 

I can no longer feel the ground I walk on at all, even when I attempt to stomp my feet. Down here in the boonies, that’s quite dangerous. My foot got caught in a hole recently and I had to use mostly my arms to get it loose. I was walking my big dog, who helped by sitting next to me and waiting. I think he thinks we can help each other through our “illnesses” as I see many people call polyneuropathy. 

My pooch might have epilepsy. He had a grand maul seizure once and I’ve been giving him medicine every day and night. Not one since, but he seems to be concerned with everything after the incident.

Next week I go to see the incompetent doctor my primary sent me to once again, to gain any results and papers I can. Then, I will be calling a well-rated neurologist in my usual doctor-stop of 3 hours away. 
I’ve done research both online and in a few books. I plan on obtaining more when I get the chance. These doctors aren’t going to tell me that nothing is wrong. I’m sick of hearing it. I’m struggling every day just to hope I can still move in the morning. If that was them, they would be raving at anyone who would listen and demanding something for it, and then compensation for the length of time to get it. 

How many times do people have to console me from the ground before someone admits something is wrong? Is it that difficult? I didn’t even know I had polyneuropathy until I kept reading in my records “has history of” and got curious. Now, on a race to figure out when, why and how, many doctors are going to be finding me as a demanding annoyance. A ghost that constantly calls and pokes and checks up on every little thing. 

Doctor’s today need to learn that they work for the patient, not the other way around. Do not hold back information, do not say nothing is wrong just because you don’t know how to deal with it or don’t want to. It’s about the patient’s health. Not your paycheck. Get over it.

Nightmare

My nightmare last night was strange to me to say the least…

It started out with me being surrounded by children (all not mine, I’d like to add) and another woman, who was helping. We were all outside this large building star gazing and watching fireworks. 

Suddenly, in the street, I see a dark figure. I go over to tell the woman about it, and the man came over insisting he was two of the children’s father. The woman was on the phone, trying to get a hold of the police. Suddenly, more men showed up and started yelling that they get off the phone. I grab a nearby blunt object and tell the children to run inside and lock the doors and windows, and not to look outside. 

I remember hitting the man claiming to be a father with the blunt object once before I was scooped up and carried inside. It wasn’t someone I didn’t know, and I was calm, but when I heard the other men yell to let them in, I realized I couldn’t move my legs. The kids huddled around me and clung on, we were in the basement and I heard faint sirens. Then I heard a crash, and I forced myself awake.

When I woke up, it was more like tremors than shaking. I’m still trying to catch my breath. I still feel a little scared. 

And it doesn’t help today is the anniversary of a loved one’s death… 

But what could this nightmare mean?

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.

Broken

 I’m not sure what happened. He was sleeping on the couch and then went into convulsions. My family managed to get him to come to and he was fine for a full minute. 

That’s when all hell broke lose. He lunged at my mother and my sister had to grab him by the collar. He was biting and snapping and he got my sister on the arms. She got him locked up in a room by himself and we called the vet. 

My father and second-eldest sister are taking care of it now. My niece and nephew are with their biological father because we wanted them safe. All of my other animals are locked in a separate room where they are safe.

I am currently sitting in an Emergency Room and my sister just got called back. I feel broken. I raised him from a puppy the day I rescued him out of freezing rain. He was my butterball. 

I’m not sure what happened because nothing changed in the times before it happened. He’s an inside dog and came in no contact with anything that could have caused this. His food hasn’t changed, either.

I don’t know if I can handle this on top of everything else. My neurology appointment is in 2 weeks. I just healed up from surgery. 

I am worried about everything now. 

My sister got him outside. He’s calmer now. But I can’t take the chance. I don’t know what to do. I can’t bring him inside. I can’t handle this.