When the Doctor diagnosed me with Meniere's Disease, I had only a small inkling of what I was in for. At first I felt relief. Finally I knew knew what was wrong with me and that it wasn't something that was imagined in my head. Now I'm not sure what to feel.
I promised I would never lie on this blog, so here goes.
My life sucks.
I went from fully independent, fully functional, fully mobile to being unable to drive, sleep, get around and do simple tasks. I force my self to eat because I must, not because it fills hunger. It's hard to eat when you feel like throwing it right back up. My world is sloshy, tipsy and the headaches are unbearable. I'm considering on buying a cane. It's hard to get around when things like walls and door frames are always a colliding hazard.
I'm finding it difficult to be a mother.
This one kills me. Happy, dance in the kitchen mom is gone. Go on vacation and hikes mom is put on hold. Hell, it's all I can to do to make dinner and sit through it without passing out. "Race you up the stairs" has turned into "I need you to help me up the stairs". My bone crunch hugging boys don't dare touch me anymore for fear they may make it worse. I'm having difficulty writing my books, siting to paint or doing anything that I love and crave for creative release. The light has turned of in my head and all that is left is fog.
This isn't curable. There is no fix. And worst of all, it isn't terminal. I so wish it were. I'm 33 and I feel like I am 80. How long am I going to live like this? Another 30, 40 or 50 years? Endure to the end never sounded so eternally long! It's as if God said, good job, girl! You're so healthy and strong! And Satan replied, Not so fast. She can't have it that good.
How am I going to live with this? I'm not sure. Somewhere there has to be an answer, some sort of relief that isn't a .9mm shot to the head. Until then, I'm going to keep forcing food down my throat.