Yet Another Pity Party

Or, just a continuation?

During the past few months, I've started this post several times. The words would float in my head, or I'd start typing, and then I stopped, or deleted. I told myself, "Come on. They don't need or care about yet another whiny post because you don't feel good." But today things got worse. And I figure, if there's anybody reading that has health problems that maybe wants to hear someone else's story, or commiserate from afar, it's worth it. So if you're not interested in my frustrated-scared-sad-resilient-defiant-angry post about my health, read no further. 


A week or two before Christmas, I developed what looked like some tiny blisters on my palms. I thought maybe there was something irritated on my tablet or gaming controller. Because I'm compulsive, I popped the sacs and picked at the thicker skin. I guess that's not really relevant, but it shows the mental state. Soldier has repeatedly yelled at me to not pick at it, but I can't help it. I've literally been picking, saying in my head "just fucking stop" and I couldn't. 
I hoped it would go away on its own (my standard practice) but we saw Dr. Dad in Law at Christmas, so I asked him. He said it was just some eczema and I just needed some cream. Well, time passed, and he tried to prescribe the cream...but because healthcare is SO GREAT here, I couldn't get it. 

Finally about a month ago I went to see a doctor, who prescribed some less good cream. I went through two tubes and it didn't really help. I should mention that by this time, it has spread ALL OVER. It's on my arms, my legs, my feet, my back, my stomach, my scalp. Thankfully (and maybe oddly) not on my face. I keep saying my body looks like a meth addict took over. 
So finally I went to see a dermatologist. Actually today I saw both the rheumatologist and dermatologist. I figured I might as well get it over all at once and it was tough. The plus side is the rheumatologist gave me steroids to knock out the swelling before this cruise we're about to take. The minus(?) side is that my medication may or may not be working and we might have to try again. I also have to decrease the dosage of my other meds so they don't ruin my eyes, so I'm nervous about that. 

Then came the dermatologist. My expectation had been that it would be a quick, painless appointment where she'd just give me a stronger cream. Instead I ended up with a chunk being taken out of my back because she's concerned it might be lupus caused by Humira. Let me tell you, I'm gonna be real fucking pissed if this medication for one autoimmune disease gave me another autoimmune disease! I also just really didn't like the appointment...I felt like she was judging me a lot. 
So I now have to wait a couple of weeks to find out if I have lupus. And at the end of the day I ended up with a chunk out of my back with a single stitch and both elbows bandaged up from blood draws. Yes, I had to get blood drawn from both arms from both doctors. Maybe that's not super uncommon, but it made me feel bad. Also one of them has apparently bruised way up my arm which is inconvenient. 

I absolutely hate doctor days. It's so frustrating, and infuriating, that all this shit just keeps happening. Like my immune system goes crazy, so it needs to be shut down, which opens me up to everything else. Okay, which I'm still banking on it not being lupus...because I don't want that. And then it's so exhausting because I worry about whatever is going to happen and then have to process all the new information and worry about that. 

It's now night time and I've cried, drank some wine, taken a bath, and talked to Dr. Dad in Law (who I wanted to just tell me that the dermatologist was dumb but kind of didn't). I'm so tired. My body is tired, my mind is tired, and all of the pokes and cuts and bruises are making themselves known. The worst part is that the stress and worry makes it all worse, but (at least for me) there's no way to not worry and stress. 

So, again, this post was very whiny and woe is me. But if anyone else has any similar issues, I hope there's some sense of camaraderie or...something. This shit sucks. And...well I don't really have a good ending for this. I'm very tired and sore and I'm hoping this won't keep me from getting some sleep tonight. And I'm really hoping I don't have lupus. That's just an inconvenience that I don't want to handle.