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Updated: Jan 8, 2022

Me and my husband were walking through the parking lot to go inside to see my family doctor when I stopped in the middle of the road. Brandon looked back at me, “What’s the matter?” I stood there feeling a large amount of anxiety, so much so that I was feeling really nauseous and my heart was just pounding. “ I don’t get it. I know that this is an easy refill medication appointment. I shouldn’t be feeling anxious but I can’t help it.” I told him. “You should mention this to your counselor. It’s okay, you’ve got a great supportive doctor and we will just be in and out.” He said.

When I mentioned this episode with my counselor, he told me that this isn’t unusual for someone that has been dealt bad news after bad news and has been having a difficult time with their health. He said he has seen this many times. The body gets used to all of the negative responses that it gets stuck in this vicious loop and is on constant guard, even when it is safe. I did many charting exercises any time i felt any anxiety come, which was a lot! I had stacks and stacks of papers that I had charted and logically worked through the anxiety just like I was shown by my counselor. He told me that eventually my mind would be able to do this on its own and it would help keep the anxiety at bay.

It’s hard to admit it but my anxiety was so bad that it became all consuming. I had to have constant tabs on my husband and needed to know that he was safe. It didn’t help that he still drove the car that I had gotten in an accident in and it was a major trigger. Every day going to and from work or anytime he left the house, I needed him to text me to let me know he made it. And when he forgot or something got in the way and no text came, I assumed the worse. Anytime I heard an ambulance or sirens, I figured at anytime I would get the dreaded knock on the door telling me that he had died. I know so morbid and maybe a little twisted but honestly, that’s where my mind went every dang time which was torture.

My girls became these little human beings that I desperately grasped tightly too and I feared of accidents and bad things happening to them all of the time. Anxiety sucks. I have worked extremely hard at rewiring my brain and releasing my anxiety to God, some days are better than others but I have come a long way!

The PRP injections the specialist suggested and I had read about in my online support group, were exciting to think of the possibility but also terrifying at the same time too. It felt like this massive crescendo but there was no other option to help afterwards if it didn’t work. My girls had so much hope riding on this and I felt all of this pressure that if it didn’t work, I’d be even more of a let down. I was so scared to cross that bridge that I held off and needed to work through my anxiety to mentally prepare me for this big unknown of an experimental treatment.

I had mentioned that I had been put on this medication for my endometriosis in my earlier blog posts. I knew that it gave me side effects but not to the full degree that I found out later. Every month I would get extremely nauseous which had been going on for years but it eventually escalated to where I vomited every month. I figured it had something to do hormonally but wasnt one hundred percent sure because I hadnt had a menstrual cycle in four years.

I started to get really sick and thought that I had gotten a really bad stomach flu but eventually three days turned into almost a week of being violently ill that I had decided to see a doctor. My stomach looked like I was about five months pregnant, it was so swollen that when I pushed on it, I could manually throw up. The on call doctor looked at me and told me to stop eating food immediately and that I needed to go on a clear liquid diet for a bit. He told me that my stomach was so inflamed that it needed a rest and couldn’t handle food at the moment. He prescribed a couple of medications and I went home to rest. I did all of his recommendations and felt a little bit of relief and thought I was over the worst of it. The next morning I was horribly mistaken and still couldn’t keep anything down or in my body. One of my girlfriends brought over this get well package with all of these different things to help nurse me back to health and she regularly checked in to make sure I was okay. Another few days had gone by and things weren’t going well and so I texted my girlfriend and she encouraged me to go into the emergency to get checked out. I was thankful for her being there for me because I needed someone to give me permission to go in again and get checked out. I usually feel really silly going into the doctors and wait things out at home as long as possible. I was extremely dehydrated and so they hooked me up to an IV and ran a bunch of tests. Everything came back clear which was good but I still didn’t know what was wrong. I was sent back home with a few more prescriptions and tried to rest but my stomach was still swollen and was extremely painful. I had to run to the bathroom every thirty minutes and everything got exited out of both ends. Still unable to eat and my body rejecting bone broths and other drinks. My weight kept on dropping.

I couldn’t handle talking or anyone talking to me or any noise. Lying still was excruciating and I would just roll side to side in writhing pain. The rhythm of pacing the floors is what I did for hours but it caused extreme pain in my pelvis, legs, feet and joints but I couldn’t help it, I had to keep moving. Another few more days of this and I was getting scared, I tried to just carry on and tried walking my daughter to school which I was so weak that I felt like I was going to faint. I knew it wasnt safe and had to ask a friend to take over with taking her to and from school. It was really disappointing because I even missed her very first day ever being put into the school system, I didn’t get to see my baby girl off at school. My body was so depleted and we decided to go back to the emergency. The front desk nurse said that my pulse was a bit weak and that I looked very dehydrated. They tried to draw blood but it didn’t work because of the dehydration. They wrapped me up in warming blankets and gave me water to drink and eventually hooked me up to an IV. The doctor I was given told me that he felt I was going through drug withdrawals from my pain meds and that’s why I was so sick and so he treated me poorly. He made many promises of things to help me but never came through on them and just sent me home. I hadn’t had any pain meds for weeks and I took only a low dose only when needed. I was confused and embarrassed. My husband keeps a log book on when and how many pills I take, “There’s no way that this is drug withdrawals.” He reassured me.

(my youngest daughter made this for me when I was sick and she put it on the wall so that while I laid sick on the couch I could look at it. And I did, I would read this over and over)

It now had been three weeks of being trapped in this hell and I went back into an on call doctor to see what their opinion was. The last time I was in the emergency, the doctor had gotten a scan done on me and had found a 14mm gallstone and talking to others that experienced a gallbladder attack, it sounded like maybe that’s what was going on. I talked to this young doctor about it and he said what I was experiencing wasn’t related to the gallstone because no inflammation or blockage was indicated on the scan. He told me that it was probably enteritis and it could take another ten days to get better. I shouldnt have but I hung onto the ten day theory and when I still wasn’t better by then, I felt like I was losing my mind. I still hadn’t eaten anything and was withering away. My weight continued to drop every week.

The song “Good to Me,” played over and over in my mind and I would utter the words with tears streaming down my face, in desperation, as I paced the floors.

I cry out

for your hand of mercy to heal me,

for I am weak,

and I need your love to free me.

Oh Lord, my Rock,

my strength in weakness,

come rescue me oh Lord.

You are my hope, and your promise never fails me,

And my desire is to follow you forever.

For you are good, for you are good,

For you are good to me.

For you are good, for you are good,

For you are good to me.”

I was back and forth, in and out of the doctors office with my puke bucket in hand and in desperate need of relief and help. Each time an added prescription, soon I was on seven different prescriptions that had added side effects that I dealt with on top of this awfulness. I finally talked to a doctor and said, “Is there any point to these meds, is it making me worse? Please, please help me.” He told me that I was chasing my tail and recommended not taking the medication except one of them. He told me that doctors aren’t good at stomach issues and my best bet would be to see a naturopath and so that’s what I did. I honestly felt like I was sitting at deaths door. ”Please heal me and if you don’t plan on healing me, than take me now. Please, I can’t handle living like this. I’m suffering.” I’d pray and pray but I felt like I wasn't being heard. I didn’t think my suffering could get worse but gastrointestinal issues brought it to another level. With gastro, you can’t bite the bullet and pretend to be okay or take pain meds to help take a little edge off. You can’t leave the house and there is no faking feeling good. My mental health wasn’t doing well at all and I was scared to be left alone and told my husband that someone needed to be home with me at all times. This one evening I just lost it, “Can you hear me! Do you even care about me?“ I pounded my fist into the kitchen counter and yelled even louder at God. “Where are you? Is this all that you want for me, for me to constantly suffer!"

I lost it in the naturopath’s office from being exhausted from being so sick, not eating still and not sleeping well. I begged him to help me and he recommended this supplement type drink that helps soothe GI issues. I started off with 1/4 teaspoon in a little bit of water and immediately I could feel my body responding positive to it. This was my life saver and eventually I tried adding food but my body still rejected it.

Our church family surrounded me and my family with so much support, love and prayer. There were meals and women that would come to my home and pray with me, elders that came and anointed me with oil and covered prayers, friends that would sit with me and cry with me. Friends that brought gifts and notes and friends that faithfully helped take my girl to school everyday. The love that was poured out was so beyond words and we are very grateful for our church family.


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