I don’t want to end up suffering a mental breakdown as Nietzsche did (watching a man beat a dead horse of all things), however I will admit to becoming increasingly sensitive over the years. For instance, I remember on one visit to get a single shallow cavity filled, the dentist had to inject me with Novocaine *8* times. Dental pain is one of the most dreadful feelings you can experience. I also made the mistake to have my teeth professionally whitened a few years ago…$500 and several useless Advils later, I’m crying in my bed desperately pleading for the lightning hot jabs to pause so I could fall asleep. I recall getting an hour of sleep that night – two would be stretching it.
I also have what is known as “sensory defensiveness,” which you can read all about in Sharon Heller’s Too Loud, Too Bright, Too Fast, Too Tight – What To Do if You Are Sensory Defensive in an Overstimulating World. This book was a godsend to a freak of nature such as myself. I had to move out of my last apartment (where my unabashed introvert self lived blissfully alone) due to noise, Noise, NOISE!!! Over me, under me, while soaking in the bathtub (under which lay the main stairwell), dogs, kids, garbage trucks, my old landlord’s stereo right below my head if I had the misfortune of staying home sick that day…studying for microbiology with earplugs inserted AND the bathroom fan blasting in a lame attempt to drown out “Stompy,” a person I’d only met in my nightmares.
At work, there are several ladies whose olfactory bulbs have gone dim. Quite dim. Let’s load on the White Diamonds, Tresor, Tabu and whatever cologne you can find that was popular in 1986 dim. When I enter the bathroom, supposedly to gain some respite from being at my desk too long, or just because I have to go, I’m immediately assaulted with a bouquet of nastiness. I’ve gotten severe headaches and nausea from it. As a result, I’m sick AND annoyed not only because it forces me out of quiet-land, but because it keeps happening. Oh and what happens when I return? My human (human? hmm) latte dispenser coworker is there, going la la la…blah blah blah…This is Jeopardy!..lalala… I’m getting a nervous tic just imagining it. Most people have gotten used to the way she is, but not me. It’s slowly wearing me down. And that’s just one voice. Another person sitting close to me sounds like a Scarlet O’Hara mated with Foghorn Leghorn. I say, I say, I say SHUT UP!!!
I believe that, were I not already plagued with whatever I’ve got, I could probably shrug some of this daily nonsense off. But since an autoimmune disease is already part of the equation, and stress is known to exacerbate symptoms, my mind just can’t help but freak out a little. Or a lot, depending on the day. If I’m uber-stressed, my joint aches will morph into an overall gnawing, burning pain. I really am trying not to be a pill-popper, but lately it’s been difficult. The pain has gotten worse to such as degree that I’ve been taking on average two tramadols per day at 50 mg each, in addition to my regular 400 mg daily dose of hydroxychloroquine. Add to THAT 5 mg of prednisone(my first systemic corticosteroid!) which I’ve been on for a couple weeks now. Subtract the Evoxac I was given a sample of for dry mouth (really, my throat), for giving me profuse night sweats. Tonight I believe I had my first side effect of wicked nausea, as I can’t rightly say it’s from another drug and because there is no way in hell that I’m, ahem, with child. Horrors. Didn’t I just quote Nietzsche not too long ago? Let’s figure myself out first, shall we? The world is too awash with bad perfume to bring new life into it. That’s assuming I’d even want to. Or would be able to (I have a wonky bicornuate uterus).
My eye doctor at the SUNY clinic proclaimed that I have all the ocular symptoms of Sjogren’s syndrome. After turning my eyes into a hippie’s dream with all the dye staining tests (Rose Bengal, Lissamine Green), I got to have thread stuck to my cornea (phenol red test) and had plenty of lacrimal gland stimulation…quite possibly the least sensual type of massage imaginable, however stimulating it is for tear production. I am happy to say that the price of Restasis magically dropped down to an affordable $50, so with my discount it was only $25. Not bad, considering it’s something I’ll probably have to use for the rest of my life. I was prescribed FML Forte to kick start the Restasis, which I’m glad I only needed for a month because of the terrible poisonous aftertaste. I was also told to use Refresh Night ointment, however it’s like sticking Neosporin into my eyes. Too goopy. I’ll stick with my Thera Tears Night drops.
I also got some more blood taken by kindly vampires, I mean, phlebotomists. Of course, my body being the confusing landscape that it is, I envision the results to be normal across the board. I’ve been under a great deal of stress, though. Horrendous stats class coming to an end, scientific editing course successfully completed (with an A and a go-ahead to aim for a PhD by my professor!) , family “fun”, work “fun” and all the other stuff life has been throwing at me. So if this doesn’t kill me, as most autoimmune diseases only hope to maim, cause ridiculous amounts of pain or just plain piss a person off, then it will only serve to add fuel to the fire.
Then again, lack of sleep negates the whole being “stronger” thing…
My Body Is Losing Its Mind 