In a crowded elevator
“Can I give the Doctor pot to speed up my blood test results?”
small chuckles. Weird looks. A woman answers after the silence.
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“Well, I think it does, it’s been a while and now they have my pee. How long is this gonna take?”
“Not sure, I’m not a doctor hun, maybe about a week.”
“..hmm…what about cookies? I’ll deliver in a short skirt.”
Going down from the 5th floor. Small chuckles. No more responses.
To my surprise, my blood work is fine. My pee is fine, which I must add that peeing in a cup without a penis has got to be the most difficult thing in the world. Thank God for squats.
Yet, my thighs of steel are not the issue here.
No one knows what is wrong with me.
Everyone tells me something different.
Everyone tells me it’s in my head and the pain isn’t real.
I’m going on my third doctor this week. Back to regular doctor the week after to punch him in the face, and then an eye doctor to see if my wonky eye has a blood clot.
Pain and numbness that comes and goes for years, blurred vision when I get in this state, complete fatigue, and I lost 13lbs in a couple of months without changing my diet. Yeah, I’m fine right? I can’t really feel my toe here and there but I’m insane. The pain is so bad I missed 5 days of work…oh and my gums bled by themselves too while I was having this “attack”..but hey, those blood tests said I was fine.
I found so many people thanks to Google who have my same symptoms and no cause. That have thought it was their heart, like myself, that thought they were diabetic, like myself…and nothing.
Well, to all the people out there that live in their own body, they know what they feel.
These people are not crazy.
To the people who have been misdiagnosed several times, keep searching.
To the people who are skeptical why we keep looking: It’s not that we want something wrong, we just want answers. Peace of mind to prove our sanity.
To the people who think nobody believes you, well…I believe you.
Just because you can’t see it or prove it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.
I’ve named the support group “Donkey Balls” for whatever anybody has and has no name, just say “I have Donkey Balls”, say it proud, then eventually they will shut-up.
To the people who come up to me and ask me how I lost so much weight and keep poking how sick I look, well I’m fine, I just have Donkey Balls.
I honestly think if I gave my doctor pot he’d tell me what I wanted to hear.