Confession #2 – I worry…

9 Nov

A lot! I don’t mean that I worry about my illness, don’t get me wrong I do. I worry about how many more years I will have left with full mobility before I am forced to use a cane or wheelchair, and although I joke about being able to use the handicap parking spaces at Costco and by passing the lines at Disney World, I wish I didn’t even have to ponder a day when that would happen. I just hope to be able to give A many more years where she isn’t affected by the burden that I now carry with me daily, by my need to not overheat my body in fear of another relapse.

But I have also been consumed with worry since the moment that the pee stick showed a plus sign the morning after Halloween. The worry kept building and building until my family starting calling me paranoid and crazy….oh you gotta love European families, and i decided enough was enough and sought professional help. I am now on anti anxiety meds which make it so much easier to cope with everyday obstacles that many don’t view as obstacles. Now when A catches a cold or a stomach virus I don’t feel like my world is about to collapse and that A will somehow end up in the hospital with some weird virus that no one can detect until it’s too late. I’m now able to sleep through those nights…apart from when i am rocking her or soothing her back to sleep. I can not tell you all how important it is to reach out for help when you feel like you are coming undone and you are beginning to lose yourself. Don’t be ashamed to ask for help…I have had to do that more than i would have liked in the past 6 months since my diagnosis and I am eternally grateful for the support system I have in place that can step in to help us with A when we need an extra set up hands because mine just can’t handle to load.

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