Post by Kathy on Nov 4, 2002 0:21:56 GMT -5
Well, this is incredibly personal, but ya said you wanted stories so this is a contribution. 
I wrote this in complete frustration a few years ago. Thankfully I did eventually get a diagnosis, didn't really change much, but things are better.
The little dialouges stuck into the text are actual conversations I had with my friends and family. The story isn't in chronological order and probably doesn't make much sense, but it served its purpose. I just wanted to vent.
Quest
By: Kathy M.
5/30/00
I had been to quite a few doctors by this time. Each one told me a different story. One said I was eating the wrong food, the other said my symptoms were caused because of childhood trauma. When this doctor told me I needed my gallbladder out, I wasn’t surprised. It seemed like just another random stab at an explanation for my symptoms. So, here I was spending the first day of spring break in the hospital.
“Ya know, I never thought I’d live to be 21. I thought surely I would have destroyed myself by now. You can have my guitar if I die, okay?
“Alright, but you’re not going to come to your untimely demise any time soon.”
“Probably not, but you can have my c.d.’s too, okay?”
“Okay.”
I don’t even remember the first doctor I went to, but this one was memorable. There we were, me, my mom, and the doctor seated in the smallest closet of a room I’d ever been in.
“The test shows everything’s normal, there’s nothing wrong with you physically. I would say that your symptoms are probably caused by childhood trauma and stress. I see it all the time.” Unfortunately my mother hadn’t. Considering she was unaware of said trauma I can’t blame her for thinking he was a quack. So, they had it off like two jackals as I did my best to keep the doctor from spilling more of my secret. Thankfully though, my mother has selective hearing, and when the story was retold to my father she left out any mention of trauma. My secret was safe.
“A man came into the shop today and said that Adam is gay. Is this true? Did you know about it?”
“Yes.”
“You knew! Why did you lie and pretend to be his girlfriend? You were pretending. He thinks you’re ugly and disgusting. You know he could never be attracted to you because he likes men. That’s got to be the biggest slap in the face to you. Your boyfriend is a f*g**t, and you knew about it! You’re not gay are you? Cause if you are you’d have to leave. You understand that? I’ve got three other straight people in this house that I have to protect.”
I guess I first became sick when I broke up with my boyfriend and I found roaches in my kitchen. I kept thinking that I just had a virus, or that I was under a lot of stress, and that this like all things would pass. Before I knew it my whole life had changed. I stopped going out with friends and family. I ate less and less. I became depressed and rarely left my house except to go to school. Like a caper in the night, illness stole my life, and suddenly I woke up rubbing my eyes asking, “who was that masked man?”
“You have gallstones.”
“Okay, is that what has been causing my symptoms?”
“Not necessarily, but it’s possible.”
“So, now what?”
“Well, we can remove your gallbladder. Even if the stones aren’t causing your symptoms they still need to come out. Schedule a time for surgery whenever it’s convenient for you. It can wait a few weeks if you’re busy.”
I leaned over and threw up into the bucket the nurse brought. bloomin' heck my gallbladder. Here it was spring break and I was in the hospital tossing my Demurral laced cookies. My dad said, “It could be worse”. He was right; I could be gay. Never the less, I was minus one gallbladder and my symptoms didn’t change. In fact, they got worse.
So, with my scarred belly and breasts I go out into the world searching still, if not for a cure then at least a name.
I wrote this in complete frustration a few years ago. Thankfully I did eventually get a diagnosis, didn't really change much, but things are better.The little dialouges stuck into the text are actual conversations I had with my friends and family. The story isn't in chronological order and probably doesn't make much sense, but it served its purpose. I just wanted to vent.
Quest
By: Kathy M.
5/30/00
I had been to quite a few doctors by this time. Each one told me a different story. One said I was eating the wrong food, the other said my symptoms were caused because of childhood trauma. When this doctor told me I needed my gallbladder out, I wasn’t surprised. It seemed like just another random stab at an explanation for my symptoms. So, here I was spending the first day of spring break in the hospital.
“Ya know, I never thought I’d live to be 21. I thought surely I would have destroyed myself by now. You can have my guitar if I die, okay?
“Alright, but you’re not going to come to your untimely demise any time soon.”
“Probably not, but you can have my c.d.’s too, okay?”
“Okay.”
I don’t even remember the first doctor I went to, but this one was memorable. There we were, me, my mom, and the doctor seated in the smallest closet of a room I’d ever been in.
“The test shows everything’s normal, there’s nothing wrong with you physically. I would say that your symptoms are probably caused by childhood trauma and stress. I see it all the time.” Unfortunately my mother hadn’t. Considering she was unaware of said trauma I can’t blame her for thinking he was a quack. So, they had it off like two jackals as I did my best to keep the doctor from spilling more of my secret. Thankfully though, my mother has selective hearing, and when the story was retold to my father she left out any mention of trauma. My secret was safe.
“A man came into the shop today and said that Adam is gay. Is this true? Did you know about it?”
“Yes.”
“You knew! Why did you lie and pretend to be his girlfriend? You were pretending. He thinks you’re ugly and disgusting. You know he could never be attracted to you because he likes men. That’s got to be the biggest slap in the face to you. Your boyfriend is a f*g**t, and you knew about it! You’re not gay are you? Cause if you are you’d have to leave. You understand that? I’ve got three other straight people in this house that I have to protect.”
I guess I first became sick when I broke up with my boyfriend and I found roaches in my kitchen. I kept thinking that I just had a virus, or that I was under a lot of stress, and that this like all things would pass. Before I knew it my whole life had changed. I stopped going out with friends and family. I ate less and less. I became depressed and rarely left my house except to go to school. Like a caper in the night, illness stole my life, and suddenly I woke up rubbing my eyes asking, “who was that masked man?”
“You have gallstones.”
“Okay, is that what has been causing my symptoms?”
“Not necessarily, but it’s possible.”
“So, now what?”
“Well, we can remove your gallbladder. Even if the stones aren’t causing your symptoms they still need to come out. Schedule a time for surgery whenever it’s convenient for you. It can wait a few weeks if you’re busy.”
I leaned over and threw up into the bucket the nurse brought. bloomin' heck my gallbladder. Here it was spring break and I was in the hospital tossing my Demurral laced cookies. My dad said, “It could be worse”. He was right; I could be gay. Never the less, I was minus one gallbladder and my symptoms didn’t change. In fact, they got worse.
So, with my scarred belly and breasts I go out into the world searching still, if not for a cure then at least a name.
