At times, my mind will disregard my body and spirit just to have its own way. This was one of those times. So, my body responded in kind – it fell apart. From the middle to the end of 2005, I felt horrible. I was so tired. Crazy of me to think I should still try to find a job at this point. I just could not connect the dots between this new array of symptoms and the only thing I knew was wrong (those dang fibroids). I blamed the symptoms on everything else. Oh, I must just be out of shape or not eating properly or just not getting enough sleep.
Why was I so stubborn? I was forever telling loved ones to “GO TO THE DOCTOR” if they didn’t feel the least bit well but me? Noooooo. I maintained this drained state for months. Almost no energy. Stayed on my couch just about all day every day. Very still. If I sat up too fast, my heart would race. Going upstairs or just walking down the hallway left me gasping for air. To cobble together my remaining patches of sanity, I stayed on my laptop. Spent many hours researching geeky science stuff. Found tons of papers to read. I even discovered whole textbooks online. My computer was my lifeline.
So, what FINALLY made me get off of the couch and crawl to the doctor’s office? Two things. I felt faint just about all of the time and my vanity kicked in. I’m normally not one to focus on the superficial but I looked into a mirror one day and saw Zombie #13, an extra from a very bad horror movie, staring back at me. My body won. My mind was forced, kicking and screaming, to go to the doctor.