MIA Apology

This has been a really rough week. As most of you know, I usually post AT LEAST once a day. I haven't posted since Sunday, and even that was written on Saturday. It had nothing to do with the holiday weekend. It had everything to do with me going into my shell, not sure I ever wanted to come out.

Last week I was taken off Lyrica, the drug I've been on since the middle of April to help the pain from my "nerve damage." As my regular readers know, it turns out I never even HAD nerve damage. So, I've spent two and a half months on a medication that I didn't need. A medication that is not only known to be hard on the body, but also to have some harsh side effects. By the time I convinced my doctors to take me off the medication, I think I experienced every side effect known as possible- including the dangerous ones that finally persuaded my regular doctor to wean me off the medicine even though he is not a neurologist. To say I am frustrated is putting it mildly.

Coming off a medication that is so strong is a bit harder than I expected. I didn't realize just how much I HAVEN'T been feeling for the last couple of months. For the first few days off the Lyrica, I felt like a truck had run me over. I literally laid on the couch and watched TV for four days straight. I wasn't sleeping, but I WAS eating like crazy. NOTHING brought me pleasure or caught me interest, except for that darn TV. Not reading, not writing, NOTHING. I was seriously starting to worry about myself. On Sunday I sat in front of the television for straight hours. Although I was very happy to get caught up on Grey's Anatomy, I was beginning to think being on the drug from Hades may have been better.

Yesterday I finally started coming around. My mom had called to say my dad was in the hospital for chest pains (he is on his way home as I type this), and I had to pull myself off the couch to get dressed and ready to go visit my dad. Seeing him, even though I was worried, gave me a refreshed outlook on life. I may not be perfectly healthy yet, but I'm ready to fight again. Daniel had been asking me to continue to fight for this last push. Get over this last hump, and I'll be home free. He was right, of course, but I didn't think I had it in me.

This morning I woke up, however, with the energy I need to get through one last ordeal. Tomorrow morning I will have the EEG test to see if my previously juvenile epilepsy has come back to the surface. I'm not looking forward to it, but to know is better than to ignore a problem. So, I'm off to the hospital in the morning for what should be the last test in this incredibly long journey.

I think I crawled into a hole rather than blogging because it seems to good to be true. For there to be such a huge difference just by going off the Lyrica seems outrageous. I am EXTREMELY angry about that. I TOLD the first neurologist he wasn't listening to my symptoms, and I wish I had pushed harder. What do I know, though. I've never had shingles before, I had the worst case my doctor has ever seen in 37 years of practice, and it turns out that I was probably having seizures brought on by the disease. I was pushed to the side by the first neurologist, though, the one with a God complex. As soon as this all becomes real, I will decide how to handle that complaint.

Life is about to get exciting. I started putting job applications in again, now that I know I'll be okay. I may have missed out on my best chances for getting a teaching position for next school year, but I've got to at least give it a shot. Too much of my life has been taken away from me already. Watch out world. Once I get started, I'm pretty hard to stop!