angermeans

I joke all the time about how, because I already have MS, I am immune to other illnesses.

The reason that I joke about this is because, on some level, when one has an incurable illness, one may begin to *actually* think that the worst has already been done to them.

MS will pretty much cripple and kill me – so it really wouldn’t be fair or statistically reasonable for me to get some kind of other illness.

… or so I would like to think.

This week, I was proven wrong.

A couple of days ago I found myself standing on the side of the road in Port Coquitlam, crying harder than I have in a while – which is saying something.

Cars were streaming past me, everything was grey with smog and concrete, and for once I didn’t have a Kleenex in my purse.

I am surprised that I made it out of my doctor’s office before my body began heaving with tears. I am proud of myself for that.

It turns out that after having told all of my doctors (that’s at least three or four that I see on a semi-regular basis) about certain symptoms for over three years – that none of them had actually understood what I had told them. They all assumed, or at least made no indication other wise, that all of my symptoms were MS related. They were all wrong.

In addition to multiple sclerosis, I has been confirmed that I also have IBS (irritable bowel syndrome).

My doctor was very quick to tell me that IBS is:
a/ incurable.
b/ there are no medical treatments that he would recommend – because he says that they are all only marginally effective, they are expensive, and they have heavy side-effects.

My doctor is not skilled in the area of bedside manner. I have known that for a long time. But his parting words “You’ll just have to live with it” is what put me over the edge.

Live with it?

Fuck you.

In my five years with MS I can safely say that they have not given me any drug or treatment that has helped me. Some treatments have done nothing. Other things have made my health worse. Nothing has made my day-to-day life any better. I have had to rely on my own treatments in order to cope and manage. And now it looks like it will be the same way with this.

It’s all still sinking in – but you can imagine that I am going through all of the initial stages of shock/ mourning.

I feel angry and scared and lonely and frustrated and irritated and exhausted.

< deep breath >

Live with it.