Ahhhhh...I'm determined to start posting again...I decided this on my walk this morning.The walk that I took after sleeping 11 hours and having a cup of coffee with non-fat Half and Half (say it like Bernie Mac in "Bad Santa"), and a cup of grapes and an orange. Now, I'm back from my walk (about an hour) and living the life. It's November, 11 months from my last post (I've thought about posts, and even started a few, but I'm nothing if not inconsistent!), I'm sitting out on the deck, in the sun with an egg sandwich and Irish coffee. The Irish coffee contains coffee, Bailey's and Jameson...if I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna do it right, the egg sandwich is nondescript.
Anyway, 34 years ago (right after I was married), after an adolescence of undetermined, undiagnosed health issues (nagging, annoying, inconvenient, but not life threatening), I went for my third round of allergy testing (my first was as a child for chronic ear infections, the second as a teenager for angst). No reaction to the first series of skin testing....no reaction to the second series, done at the same time even though one usually has to schedule a second visit, because, seriously, I am not having any reactions!!! After this, the doctor, shaking his head because he was so convinced he would see some breakthrough revelation, and I'm obviously NOT cooperating, suggests he do an intradermal test, injecting a small amount of some sort of substance (alien DNA?) under the skin of my forearm...the purpose of which, is to find out if I have an autoimmune reaction, thus, in fact, proving that I am allergic to myself! I walked around for a week with a softball sized hive on my arm....
I'm thinking this was the precursor to the rash of autoimmune diseases that are diagnosed today...some I believe legitimate, others I relegate to to realm of Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny. I really do believe (as in my case) that there is a basis for feeling crappy a lot of the time....but, no excuses. I think, often, that American society makes it difficult, if not impossible, to live life according to one's abilities...life is rough if you're not physically gifted. A hundred years ago, I probably would have self-destructed about 10 years ago....but, I don't have to clear the land, build my home from the timber, grow all my own food, bear my children in the back bedroom, fight off Indians, and/or work in a sweat shop...I have access to penicillin and nourishing food, clean sheets, and satellite TV. We all operate under differing, diverse limitations. I'm not seeking a diagnosis or miracle pill...just permission, my own, to live within my capabilities. This is kind of hard.
I want to do it all. Twice. Everyday.
So, - not particularly pertaining to anything I've just written - what I'm going to try and do is post a bit everyday. Part diary/journal to document the physical, mental and if necessary the emotional barometer of my daily life, or maybe just whatever nonsense comes to mind. I'll try to make it interesting...otherwise, I'll get bored and stop!
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