With A Little Help

I’m am so sick of being sick.

I think most everyone with an autoimmune disease feels like this, but last night was especially hard. I was sick again with swollen joints, all over pain that sort of makes me question why I go on, and a level of fatigue I’ve never felt – not even when The Juggernaut was an infant and I wasn’t sleeping at all. It was a friend’s birthday and a few people went out to celebrate it and I couldn’t go. Again. Because I’m sick. And broke from being sick in the first place. So I was feeling sorry for myself on an epic level. I could not get out of it, so matter what I did. ALL I saw was the negative and the poor me and the wah wah wah. WHY did this happen to me? WHY am I sick all the time? WHY isn’t my life exactly the way I want it to be? Seriously, Vivian Leigh would have been proud at the melodramatic dialogue in my head. I went to the dark side. I tend to do that. I know…I’m ridiculous.

It comes down to this: I want to feel better. I want to pain and the brain fog and the exhaustion to go away once and for all. I know I’m going to have this for the rest of my life, but it doesn’t have to be this bad all the time. There’s a treatment and I want it. I want it BAD. The total cost is not covered by my insurance (only the lab work is covered) and we are absolutely tapped out. It’s infutiating to have a solution so close and completely out of reach at the same time. One of my friends started a GoFundMe to pay for my medical treatment, so I’m posting it here in case anyone is able to help me out. https://www.gofundme.com/23z2s5g A lot of people have already and for that, I am eternally grateful.

I’m closing this post with someone else’s poetry. They can say this way better than I ever could or would.

What would you think if I sang out of tune
Would you stand up and walk out on me?
Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song
And I’ll try not to sing out of key
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends
Mm I get high with a little help from my friends
Mm gonna try with a little help from my friends

What do I do when my love is away?
(Does it worry you to be alone?)
How do I feel by the end of the day?
(Are you sad because you’re on your own?)
No I get by with a little help from my friends
Mm I get high with a little help from my friends
Mm gonna try with a little help from my friends

(Do you need anybody?)
I need somebody to love
(Could it be anybody?)
I want somebody to love

(Would you believe in a love at first sight?)
Yes I’m certain that it happens all the time
(What do you see when you turn out the light?)
I can’t tell you, but I know it’s mine
Oh I get by with a little help from my friends
Mm I get high with a little help from my friends
Oh I’m gonna try with a little help from my friends

(Do you need anybody?)
I just need someone to love
(Could it be anybody?)
I want somebody to love

Oh I get by with a little help from my friends
Mm gonna try with a little help from my friends
Oh I get high with a little help from my friends
Yes I get by with a little help from my friends
With a little help from my friends

– Lennon & McCartney

 

 

 

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There’s A Fungus Amongus!

You all know I have been sick for a while – sorry if I kept kvetching, but it’s my reality, my truth, and, let’s be real here, my blog – two autoimmune diseases with no relief in sight. Then, I found an osteopath who specialized in my autoimmune disease and offered me hope. He ran a ton of tests and it turns out, I have a chronic fungal infection in my blood stream that was exacerbated by the toxic mold in our old house. There are tiny lesions on my lungs from breathing the mold spores every day for two years, I have a white blood cell count that’s scary high, and I have to go through some drastic treatment that is not covered by my insurance to get some relief and possibly be back to my former self.

For the last two years, I have been unable to hold a job with any consistency because I am always sick. Luckily, being a freelance writer allows me a little wiggle room for periods of unemployment, but I’ve never straight up not been able to work. As a result, we are some broke-ass mofos over here. We moved out of Fungus Abbey to save money, yes, but it’s because we have no money. None. I’ve had lean times in my adult life, but nothing like this and nothing that ever involved my responsibility to other people (ie. Husbandito and The Juggernaut). I feel like a loser. I feel like I have failed. I feel like I should have just bit the bullet and gone to law school instead of following my dream of being a writer and my financial life would be better. I would be miserable, but there would be a little money in the bank. That’s worth it, right?

There are two fungi at work here: the one slowly trying to literally kill my body and the one that is figuratively killing my soul. I try to have hope. I try not to feel completely defeated every day. I try to keep my head up and greet each day with a new attitude and outlook on life. But these “tries” are covered in mold and illness and despair and I just don’t know if I can do it anymore. I am so exhausted.

So I am putting it out in the world as to not curl up in the fetal position, scream-crying, and eating my own hair. If we do, in fact, reap what we sow, I have been a real fucking dickhead.

 

 

 

A Mother of a Day

I’m sorry I’ve been MIA, my friends. A lot of shit went down in my life and I had about two weeks to reconcile…well, everything. It’s still not settled and I feel untethered, which I hate. I am definitely a person in deep need of a tether.

Yesterday was insanely awful. I woke up angry. Like really angry. The Juggernaut’s preschool had a Mother’s Day breakfast planned for the morning and I wanted to go about as much as I want to give him a baby brother or sister (aka NOT AT ALL). I had no energy to be social with anyone and really just wanted to go home and make some gluten free cinnamon toast and try to finish my newest assignment in the middle of unpacking my downsized space with a New York kitchen and not quite enough storage. GAH!

Then I went outside to sit with the other moms and kids and I saw him. The beautiful little boy who lost his mom to cancer a few months ago, sitting alone at a table, surrounded by other kids with their moms. And my bad mood just melted away. We sat down with him and shared bagels and berries and watermelon and talked about which fruits smoosh the best when you use your thumb. My lovely little only child had no problem sharing me with his friend – it was like he knew. I cried the whole way home for a mom I barely knew who had to leave her little boy too soon. I sobbed and hoped that if my little one is ever in that situation, someone will sit with him and talk to him about whatever he wants. I wept  because kids aren’t supposed to lose their moms (or dads) ever, let along when they are still babies.

I still felt sad, but connected to the world where my sometimes shitty attitude needs to get checked and balanced. And just to get me back on track with being super fucking grouchy, our car was broken into last night.

Well played, Universe. Well played.