Almost every day there is at least one moment of doubt whether this autoimmune diagnosis is valid. While I am on this roller coaster ride and long forgotten (i.e. absent for a couple of days) symptoms come back seemingly out of nowhere to viciously attack me, my imagination runs wild and the dreaded "what if it's..." pops up uninvited in my head screaming at me, especially at night in our lovely quiet neighbourhood without a noisy car, bus, train, plane, unruly cats or late night pedestrian to distract me.
So I juggle likely explanations about drug side effects and delayed efficacy, the hot weather, wrong food for dinner, menopause etc. around my head until I eventually fall asleep.
For some time now headaches have come and gone, increasing in intensity and a good day now is when the panadol kicks in which it rarely does. Yesterday all I could do was walk up and down in the garden trying to distract myself counting my breath, the roses in bloom and picking the first ripe raspberries - to no avail. In the end I remembered that one patient in my room at the WKH in November told me that she always drinks an espresso for her headache. And it did help but I felt/feel like shit nevertheless. Doctors now want me to monitor time and strength etc. of headaches which obviously sends me into a fizz as I try to figure out why they are concerned.
And there I was not too long ago telling myself how lucky I am that I don't have migraines. Whatever hit me yesterday was migraines' big sister.
The thought that I have been carrying this noisy dizzy vertigo exhaustion in my head and body for over nine months now (half time of my sick benefit) and that in less than three months ... fills me with panic and I end up weeping for my losses: working, cycling, walking, running, dancing, careless and thoughtless daily activities like boring household. Oh shit. This can't be it. No way. Come on, think of something. Quick.