Haven't interacted much lately but I've been following along with posts in this forum. I am no closer to finding out what is going on with my body. In the meantime, my mother - recently diagnosed with MS - is deteriorating rapidly. My symptoms now parallel what hers were at my age. And like her, multiple doctors have assured me that I do NOT have MS. In fact, they all seem quite certain that there is no physical cause of my symptoms. So, I'm crazy.
The thing is, so was my mom. She was deemed crazy, too. A hypochondriac. A hysterical, weak-headed woman. So was my grandmother. But my grandmother was eventually diagnosed with MS. And now my mother has been, as well. So despite all of the reassurance I get from doctors telling my I'm a nutjob, I'm still scared.
My mother's diagnosis came very late in life. I wonder what her quality of life might be like right now if she'd been able to get treatment earlier? She's fighting against using a wheelchair but truthfully she needs one, badly. This week's drama is her glassopharyngeal nerve failing. Her doctors are working to fix the situation as best they can but as of a week ago she cannot swallow solids. And as of yesterday, she can't speak.
She called me last week, when she started choking on everything, when she could still speak, to remind me of her advanced directives. NO feeding tube or artificial nutrition of any kind, ever.
I am deeply heartbroken to watch what is happening to her. And a childish, selfish part of me is near mad with the fear that this may be what I have to look forward to.
I hate doctors so much right now. I loathe them. Useless, ignorant, superior, condescending [profanity redacted by author]. I want to scream at all of them.
The thing is, so was my mom. She was deemed crazy, too. A hypochondriac. A hysterical, weak-headed woman. So was my grandmother. But my grandmother was eventually diagnosed with MS. And now my mother has been, as well. So despite all of the reassurance I get from doctors telling my I'm a nutjob, I'm still scared.
My mother's diagnosis came very late in life. I wonder what her quality of life might be like right now if she'd been able to get treatment earlier? She's fighting against using a wheelchair but truthfully she needs one, badly. This week's drama is her glassopharyngeal nerve failing. Her doctors are working to fix the situation as best they can but as of a week ago she cannot swallow solids. And as of yesterday, she can't speak.
She called me last week, when she started choking on everything, when she could still speak, to remind me of her advanced directives. NO feeding tube or artificial nutrition of any kind, ever.
I am deeply heartbroken to watch what is happening to her. And a childish, selfish part of me is near mad with the fear that this may be what I have to look forward to.
I hate doctors so much right now. I loathe them. Useless, ignorant, superior, condescending [profanity redacted by author]. I want to scream at all of them.
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