The Story
In November 2015 I knew something wasn't quite right with my health. I started having perceived increased thirst from dry mouth and had tons of eye floaters. I tried letting it go but it never left, in fact it got much worse. The house of cards from stress from my job, lack of sleep, and poor, poor diet all came crashing down on me and my health.
On December 14th, 2015 I woke up feeling like I was literally dying. My skin was cold and clammy, the skin on my hand stuck to my bones, and I felt dehydrated and very weak from my dry mouth. I kept drinking Powerade and water to quench my thirst but it didn't get any better. Instead I had to go to the restroom every 20-30 minutes from the constant fluid intake from my perceived thirst. I begged my dad to take me to the hospital. I couldn't explain it--I just knew something was wrong. And I am terrified of hospitals, I wouldn't just beg to go to one on a whim. The intake nurse told me I had a low grade fever when I was looked over. That made sense. I was so cold all over and shivered every now and them. I wondered, "am I dying?". After a two hour wait in the waiting room I was finally seen. Unfortunately the doctors there had no answer for me, and I was diagnosed with "psychogenic Polydipsia" (unexplained constant thirst) and "Polyuria" (constant urinating). I was released and told by the nurse to "suck on ice cubes" to help my dry mouth. I have no complaint for the doctors, they are there to treat emergencies--but the thing was, I felt so deathly ill I thought I had an emergency.
I walked out from the ER doors a new person. I was frightened, confused, and feeling all alone.
The drive home was somehow a little comforting. My dad had forgot how to exit the town we were in and so we drove by a large golden field of land with the view of the sun setting that cast a ray in the windows. I asked God in my heart, "God, am I going to make it or die? Give me peace..." and I felt a strange peace inside as I watched the field and sunset we drove by.
With a little Googling, I looked up my symptoms, not knowing what else to do. Dry mouth.
Sjogren's,
I read the signs and didn't really think something like autoimmune could happen to me, at least not yet. I know my Mom had thyroid issues and Grave's, but hey! I'm only 22 and don't smoke or drink!
A few days went by...and I woke up with pain in my knees, ankles, and finger joints. My fingertips and toes felt like they were going to freeze off even though the room wasn't that cold. I even looked at my right index finger and saw it had fluid retention. And I had terrible, terrible fatigue. Flu-like fatigue even. My face was pale and limp. I took a photo of myself to see how bad I looked, and I saw something very alarming--it was a clue.
I looked up my symptoms again. There was only one thing that matched all my criteria.
Lupus.
I was terrified. Reading the signs, seeing the outcome, no cure, etc. I was freaked. I am only 22. How could this be happening to me? Was God punishing me? Was I going to die?
I went to a family doctor that following week and fearfully listed my symptoms and how I suspect it was Lupus and the doctor I saw ran an ANA (Anti-Nuclear Antibodies) blood test that would show whether or not my body was attacking itself. He also ran a Sedimentation Rate and a C-Reactive Protein test along with it. I anxiously waited for the results, hoping it would come back positive so I could get on medication and prevent my body from killing itself further.
The ANA came back negative--which meant any hope I had of being close to getting diagnosed with Lupus was crushed. I knew right then it was only going to get worse before people would start to take me seriously. My family didn't believe me either. I felt all alone and very, very scared. It was here me and God would become friends again, because He was the only one with whom I could talk about what I was feeling without being chided that "it's not Lupus" or "you're just being anxious". I couldn't blame my family for their feelings, though. All my life I had been quite the hypochondriac, always thinking I had some serious but made up illness--why should they believe me now?
HOW DID IT GET THIS WAY? WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME?
I am not sure how I got this way. Although I have a great theory.
On December 14th, 2015 I woke up feeling like I was literally dying. My skin was cold and clammy, the skin on my hand stuck to my bones, and I felt dehydrated and very weak from my dry mouth. I kept drinking Powerade and water to quench my thirst but it didn't get any better. Instead I had to go to the restroom every 20-30 minutes from the constant fluid intake from my perceived thirst. I begged my dad to take me to the hospital. I couldn't explain it--I just knew something was wrong. And I am terrified of hospitals, I wouldn't just beg to go to one on a whim. The intake nurse told me I had a low grade fever when I was looked over. That made sense. I was so cold all over and shivered every now and them. I wondered, "am I dying?". After a two hour wait in the waiting room I was finally seen. Unfortunately the doctors there had no answer for me, and I was diagnosed with "psychogenic Polydipsia" (unexplained constant thirst) and "Polyuria" (constant urinating). I was released and told by the nurse to "suck on ice cubes" to help my dry mouth. I have no complaint for the doctors, they are there to treat emergencies--but the thing was, I felt so deathly ill I thought I had an emergency.
I walked out from the ER doors a new person. I was frightened, confused, and feeling all alone.
The drive home was somehow a little comforting. My dad had forgot how to exit the town we were in and so we drove by a large golden field of land with the view of the sun setting that cast a ray in the windows. I asked God in my heart, "God, am I going to make it or die? Give me peace..." and I felt a strange peace inside as I watched the field and sunset we drove by.
With a little Googling, I looked up my symptoms, not knowing what else to do. Dry mouth.
Sjogren's,
I read the signs and didn't really think something like autoimmune could happen to me, at least not yet. I know my Mom had thyroid issues and Grave's, but hey! I'm only 22 and don't smoke or drink!
A few days went by...and I woke up with pain in my knees, ankles, and finger joints. My fingertips and toes felt like they were going to freeze off even though the room wasn't that cold. I even looked at my right index finger and saw it had fluid retention. And I had terrible, terrible fatigue. Flu-like fatigue even. My face was pale and limp. I took a photo of myself to see how bad I looked, and I saw something very alarming--it was a clue.
 |
| Aha! A butterfly rash! |
I looked up my symptoms again. There was only one thing that matched all my criteria.
Lupus.
I was terrified. Reading the signs, seeing the outcome, no cure, etc. I was freaked. I am only 22. How could this be happening to me? Was God punishing me? Was I going to die?
I went to a family doctor that following week and fearfully listed my symptoms and how I suspect it was Lupus and the doctor I saw ran an ANA (Anti-Nuclear Antibodies) blood test that would show whether or not my body was attacking itself. He also ran a Sedimentation Rate and a C-Reactive Protein test along with it. I anxiously waited for the results, hoping it would come back positive so I could get on medication and prevent my body from killing itself further.
The ANA came back negative--which meant any hope I had of being close to getting diagnosed with Lupus was crushed. I knew right then it was only going to get worse before people would start to take me seriously. My family didn't believe me either. I felt all alone and very, very scared. It was here me and God would become friends again, because He was the only one with whom I could talk about what I was feeling without being chided that "it's not Lupus" or "you're just being anxious". I couldn't blame my family for their feelings, though. All my life I had been quite the hypochondriac, always thinking I had some serious but made up illness--why should they believe me now?
HOW DID IT GET THIS WAY? WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME?
I am not sure how I got this way. Although I have a great theory.
I got my first job in August 2015 working at a local grocery store as a cart-pusher and grocery sacker for shoppers. I was so excited! It was the first time I would be making money--my own money--and I had the promise that I was finally getting out into the "real world" and learning how to do things. I hoped I would have opportunities to witness for Jesus and shine His light while I worked with the people who shopped there. And while, I did get to shine His light in a way, I started to not really enjoy working there right away. Going out into the hot sun to get shopping carts and the constant walking back-and-forth from the store and parking lot wore me out badly. When it was time to come home my feet and heels would ache so bad, only a hot bath could soothe them. I would have to wake up at hours I was not used to and feel like death warmed over--and I couldn't go home to rest. I remember one day I was so run down and sleep-deprived I went to the manager in charge and asked if I could go home early because I was tired and she just chuckled and said, "we're all tired honey". I knew then I had only myself to blame. The world wasn't going to revolve around my needs--even if I fainted right there while bagging groceries! So I pushed myself on, not resting and constantly going out into the sun, wearing myself out. I thought this was just was working was and I was going to have to get over it. Little did I know then I was running down my body, over-charging my immune system.
I have anxiety issues, so being out and about surrounded by strangers for 6 hours a day drove me bonkers. I would be so anxious before going to work I would have painful loose stools after I woke up and had a racing heartbeat while getting ready in the morning. And since I usually woke up an hour before I had to be there, I didn't have time to eat anything, and I couldn't eat even if I tried to because of my killer nerves--I couldn't swallow anything without it getting stuck in my throat. What little food I was able to put in my body would just come back out 30 seconds later on the toilet anyway. There would be days when I didn't eat anything at all and just went to work and bought a chocolate bar and a soda hoping it would give me energy.
The one hour lunch breaks they gave me were spent under a shady bunch of trees near the end of the parking lot with--you guessed it--a chocolate bar, soda, snack-pack from the deli (that contained grapes, cheese, turkey cubes and crackers) or sometimes I would walk over to the Jack-in-the-Box next door and and order a sourdough hamburger with curly fries and a large root beer. I wanted to cram as much food into me as possible before time was up to go back inside. When my dad and brother picked me up we would go to Sonic or Jack-in-the-Box again to get something to eat for dinner, and I ate it up! My mother passed away in 2014 and so fast food had become a kind of common thing in our house now. Fast food, pizza nights, TV dinners, soda--all were a staple in my daily diet. The only fruit that would grace my mouth was from a "fruit" smoothie at a fast food restaurant, or the 1/4 cup of grapes from the deli snack packs I bought for lunch when I was at work.
The one hour lunch breaks they gave me were spent under a shady bunch of trees near the end of the parking lot with--you guessed it--a chocolate bar, soda, snack-pack from the deli (that contained grapes, cheese, turkey cubes and crackers) or sometimes I would walk over to the Jack-in-the-Box next door and and order a sourdough hamburger with curly fries and a large root beer. I wanted to cram as much food into me as possible before time was up to go back inside. When my dad and brother picked me up we would go to Sonic or Jack-in-the-Box again to get something to eat for dinner, and I ate it up! My mother passed away in 2014 and so fast food had become a kind of common thing in our house now. Fast food, pizza nights, TV dinners, soda--all were a staple in my daily diet. The only fruit that would grace my mouth was from a "fruit" smoothie at a fast food restaurant, or the 1/4 cup of grapes from the deli snack packs I bought for lunch when I was at work.
So I guess, the simple answer is, after months of over-exerting myself and eating sugary, processed food, I wore my immune system down to the point it broke down. I noticed it in very subtle ways until the bottom fell out.
In late November I noticed my mouth was feeling extra dry, like I needed more water. I had just clocked in at work and guzzled as much as I could, thinking maybe I was just dehydrated. Maybe I wasn't drinking enough for all the time I spent sweating outdoors getting shopping carts! Then one day at work after eating my fast food lunch and taking a break outside, I noticed the sun was extra bright to me, almost burning my eyes! I thought, "hmm, the sun must be extra close to the earth today!" and got back up and fetched more carts. This was the second sign.
We don't always understand why things happen, but if we trust God, we have the hope that in the end, He will make all things work for our good.
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