It's difficult to cram all that I am supposed to be into words, especially now. I am scheduled for surgery soon, for a disease I thought only happened to other people. It doesnt help to tell you that I am also a physician, and definately should have figured this out a long time ago. And yet here I am, fitting my life into a box the way I have asked my patients to do, scared and vulnerable as the next human.
It started with depression and anxiety- but I was in medical school, so everyone said 'get used to it, that's what happens'
then the weight gain. I went from a 4 to a 14 in under a year, and gained 2 cups sizes- but I was about 30 at the time and everyone said 'get used to it, you are just getting older, everyone gains weight'
then the acne. I had never had skin problems. and psoriasis. and weak nails. and everyone said 'get used to it, that's not uncommon, lots of people are that way'
and the high blood pressure. and everyone said 'well, lots of people have that'. at 30? but it wasnt TOO high, so ok....
and the high cholesterol? and people said 'your diet must be bad'. my diet is excellent, ridiculously so.
there were more signs, so many more. but I felt like I was whining. everything was explainable, and came one at a time. I tried to accept that the body I lived in was mine, but it just felt wrong.
my obsession with controlling my weight led to a mostly vegetable diet of LESS than 1800 calories a day for many many moons, and my weight was creeeping up. I was running 20 miles a week, and finished a half marathon and my weight was still creeping up. I exercised so much I got shinsplints- and they were not healling! after 6 weeks of ibuprofen, ice, elevation and rest, and they weren't better. in fact, I had gastritis now. concerned that somehow I was just not getting it, I went to a sports medicine doctor. He took a WHOLE history, and didnt ignore symptoms based on the fact that I looked 'normal' enough compared to REALLY sick people. He heard what I had myself refused to put together.
So it comes down to this: I was either crazy or right- and either way the endpoint sucked!
if I was crazy, I was an unmotivated, weak-willed person that likes to complain about how thin I used to be, how much more I used to do. I was doomed to need medical correction of a myriad of problems that made me feel like I was trapped in a body that wasnt even mine.
if I was right, then there was something seriously wrong with me. and that meant I really was sick and may spend a long time trying to fix something, or worse yet, have something that could not be fixed.
I guess I am right. They found the tumor on my right adrenal gland, my cortisol is elevated and I have too little ACTH to be measured. So its the knife for me, scheduled for June 20th. I'm vindicated in my beliefs, but at this point I am not sure if it wouldnt have been better to be crazy.