Teenage Angst Revisited (or, how I feel today)

Next thing you know, it'll want a coming out party

The neuro-ophthalmologist should have a sign outside his door reading "The only news you get from me is shitty news." My right eye (the bad one) is doing really well. The neuritis is healing up very well but there is permanent damage done that is irreversible. Blow one to my hitherto good spirits. But, to an extent, I was kind of prepared for this. I know that when your immune system attacks the myelin around nerves and then another part decides to try and fix it, the fix isn't good as new. It's like putting a patch over a hole in your tire instead of buying a new one. It works OK, but it isn't the same thing.

Blow two was much harder to swallow. Remember that healthy left eye? It's been all swagger and bombast the last few weeks. Four weeks ago when I saw my neuro-ophth, there were signs of some decline in this eye but I was told not to worry too much because this sort of thing happens; the good eye spontaneously declines and repairs for no known reason. No big deal. Liar! There are signs of permanent damage to my so-called good eye as well, which means I probably had a mild neuritis in it as well, which spontaneously repaired itself. The damage isn't as bad as in my right eye, but that isn't the point. The point, ladies and gentleman, is that if there was a mild neuritis there as well, my disease is active.

I find this upsetting though I'm not sure why. I wasn't expecting this news, thought I'd just saunter in and out of this appointment with some nice visual field tests under my belt and that would be that. Nope! Present disease activity! Oh boy! This will certainly influence how my neurologists decides to treat my particular form of MS and there isn't anything I can do about it so calm down, right? And considering that I'm not even sure why I'm upset about this, I figure I won't actually be upset for very long.

And that was my Thursday.

Talking myself out of angry gloom

This MS Clinic bullshit is really pushing me to the limit of my patience. I looked at their site for their number and found a patient questionnaire that is evidently supposed to be filled out and returned prior to scheduling. So why the fuck did nobody tell me this when I called, twice, to follow up? Mother fucker, I had to drop off my MRI disc and was told seven to ten days, only to follow up with a phone call and find out one to two weeks. At no time did anyone say "oh, by the way, did you look on our website and find that you have to fill out ten mother fucking pages of medical history? Oh, you didn't know that you had to go on line? Whoops!"

So I filled out those ten fucking pages and am sending it via UPS overnight so that they'll have it tomorrow. I can't understand why no one told me about it. So now I get to call and sit on hold for however long so that I can ask if there is anything else I need to do. As in anything. Because it is apparently my responsibility to research and find out what their fucking requirements are. My goddamn neurologist didn't tell me this. His assistant fucked me by telling me to hang onto my MRI disc, and no one seems to understand that a regular citizen such as myself does not automatically know what to do in order to be seen by a specialist once the diagnosis of multiple sclerosis has been made.

Between this and the fucking fucked up marriage, is it surprising that I can't sleep? And all of the fun is being drained out of my life. Today I had to cancel my flight to San Diego because I realized that I desperately need tires (sorry, Chey!) and I can't afford both. Being a grown up fucking blows.

On the bright side, someone told me I looked like I was losing weight. This is totally due to stress and nothing healthy I've done myself. I don't eat as frequently anymore due to sheer lethargy. It just seems too much trouble to figure out what to eat once I get home so I eat bread and cheese and then just give up because it is too much effort. And I'm not really exercising. I ran one day last week, did some squats and lunges on Saturday, and hauled a heavy ass table home from the liquor store. So yay for stress actually having some form of a positive effect!

So woe is me and boo fucking hoo. According to the chick I spoke to, they are hoping I'll hear back today or tomorrow. I'll start holding my breath in a minute. Oh, and it "usually doesn't take long at all to get an appointment with him because he keeps slots open for new patients."

If you don't see me passed out and blue in the face it's because I don't believe a fucking word people say anymore.

Sheesh. When did I get so bitter? Here is something to make up for this post:

Impotency of Apology

People talk about 'the power of words' a lot, about how something small and innocuous can make a major impact. They talk about how a simple 'thank you' can turn someone's day around, or how something small can devastate. But I never really thought about how meaningless and hollow things like 'I'm sorry' and 'I never meant to hurt you' could feel.

Someone I love very much turned me and a fear of mine into a joke with a third party. I'd expressed a sudden fear regarding a private issue (not at all related to MS or anything like that) to this person and later found out that they'd joked about it with a friend and suddenly that friend could make snarky remarks about me. I felt humiliated and devastated. I shook all over and felt sick. I just couldn't believe that this person viewed me in that way, a joke, someone without or undeserving of dignity and respect.

This person has apologized and stated that there had been no malicious intent. Do I believe them? I suppose. But it makes it hurt even more that they didn't think of me or consider my feelings. And even with an apology, I still hurt and I still feel betrayed and I have lost my trust.

Perhaps it would hurt less if this person weren't J, my husband and best friend.

We talked about it. We talked about a lot of things. I walked away feeling, I don't know what. Today I wonder if he views everything as my fault or if he accepts anything that I said. I wonder if he truly understands the things I tried to express. Sometimes I feel like I'm screaming as loud as I can to be heard but that I'm speaking the wrong language.

He's told me that he's 100% in this and that he loves me. I suppose I believe him but in the back of my head I keep thinking about how I've never been this hurt, not even when I felt my heart break over an ex-boyfriend. And because I was so easily turned into a joke, I feel like I'd better guard myself and not give him any ammunition.

I feel like I just can't see clearly because someone has slipped me a mind-altering drug and everything thing just feels off.

I used to think people only said things like "I don't recognize 'us' anymore" in the world of TV only. But I suddenly don't recognize anything.

Among the worst things to have crossed my lips in the last 24 hours is "can you believe that we may have to spend years and years telling people that it wasn't the MS that caused the split?"