Confessions, or SSIHD

I hate being sick. I love pretending that I am not sick. To such a degree that I was very, very, very bad and took an enormous risk and became a noncompliant patient. I stopped taking my Lovenox about two months ago. Or was it three? Or four? I don't know. I stopped counting.

I got sick of people telling me that I look fine, I am fine. "You look beautiful! I wish I were that thin." Blah blah blah. My labs were great. I needed to have a low-molecular heparin level drawn before my next refill of Lovenox, and somehow I just didn't get around to it. After all, I survived two kids, a portal vein thrombus, and two pulmonary emboli. I am lucky. I won't die of a clot. Just. Won't. Happen.

I had coffee with my friend Greensunflower yesterday, who has her own medical struggles and periods of noncompliance. She is also a critical care RN, and works in the emergency room. I confessed to her.

She smiled at me. "Look, I get it. I know it gets tiring. I know you don't want to take your meds. I know that you look fine and no one gets it. I know it's a pain, literally and figuratively. But yesterday, on my last shift, I had a patient who came in, having coded with a PE. We called the code. He was 41. I don't want that to be you. You may never have another clot, but if you do, it could kill you. Let's work on this together. Let me help."

I cried. It was wonderful to have her understand. She also explained that it's possible to be depressed about one thing, not to be depressed globally. I think I was depressed about my health and tried to bury my head in the sand, probably not the smartest thing I've done in a while. It's just hard to balance this life of not knowing, of prophylaxis, of pain, of being told there's nothing to do but hope. It sucks.

I was at the MD this week for my three-month checkup. I have been spiking a fever on and off for the past few weeks, 100.1-100.4. I ignore it. What's to do? At the office, it was 100.4. She decided to do cultures, the whole workup because of my being asplenic. And...of course, the labs show that I am healthy as a horse. Do I have a rogue virus? WTF?

I told Greensunflower again, about the labs. She said, "You have no spleen. Don't play around. One time those labs won't be perfect. Don't be so hard on yourself."

You know what I am hating the most at the moment? That I am too tired and achy from the fevers to run. Running has been my saving grace, mentally and physically. Am I really back to one day at a time?

Sigh.

Oh, and it's Stupid Shit I Have Done.

NB: I took down the post my mother wrote because she said it left her feeling too exposed and vulnerable. She is appreciative of everyone's kind and generous support.