tests, tests, tests

Test. When most kids my age hear that word they probably think of school, right? You take tests at school on topics you learned, to make sure you really did learn them. Except, when I hear the word test, my brain immediately pictures a doctors office. I cringe at the thought of a needle going into my arm. Tests. Bloodtests, MRIs, cat scans, sonograms, EKGs, echocardiograms, I’ve been through them all. I am used to it.

People think I’m crazy for how often I’m at the doctor, and how often I have to go through another test, but honestly, it feels normal to me now. Which yeah, makes me sad that this has to be my normal. This last week has been crazy for me. I’ve been a mess, it has been awful, but here I am.

Yet, I still get nervous for any and every test I go through. Awaiting the results, that is, is a whole different story. A story that always concludes with let down. The tests either show nothing, and I’m left with no answers, or they show something, but no one knows why. It seems like an endless cycle at this point, no matter what results I get, I expect to be let down, everything ends up left unexplained.

Last week, I found out I have a heart condition. Just another add on to the list of weird things wrong with my body, that still have no explanation. This one though, may lead to something. I have a bundle branch block in my heart, and what could be a cause of that you may ask? Lyme. That scares me. I saw my mom go through a years worth of treatment for this disease, and it was hard for her, so I have no clue how I’d be able to do it.

My body has lots of problems, and they all love to affect each other. I have leaky gut, so my stomach isn’t healthy enough to take antibiotics a normal person diagnosed with Lyme would take. I will have to go through this all functionally, the hard way. I got tested the other day, and don’t even want to know the results. No matter if it’s positive or negative, I will still be broken. I would love to finally get a diagnosis, but Lyme? Really? That’s a hard pill to swallow, that I’m really not ready for.

But here I am, ready or not I will get the results, and it will be hard. Just like every other test. All I can think about is what if. What if it’s not Lyme? What if it is, but that’s not all? My mom keeps telling me if this is the answer, I could be a completely different person in a year. Which yeah, that’s great to think about, but all my mind is going to is the journey it will take to get there. But hey, I still have no results, so here I remain.

As the tests go on, I am losing more and more hope. I wrote this all last week, but I feel I should add my findings from just yesterday. Apparently this irregular heartbeat I have comes and goes, making it even more confusing. The doctor said he sees less than one patient a year like me. Yep, just what I wanted to hear. The worst part is, the doctor doesn’t know why or how I have it, plus there’s nothing we can do about it, technically my heart is still functioning fine. On top of that, in his opinion, this makes the possibility of Lyme less likely, which I’m still trying to figure out whether that is good or bad news.

After the appointment I got to the car and started immediately crying. I now have a heart monitor hooked up to my chest, and more tests ordered. Yet, all I took from that appointment is that I have another problem, that can’t even be fixed because there’s nothing to fix, in the doctor's eyes that is. I’m filled with disappointment, but still cannot give up. I’ve learned that often doctors truly don’t know it all, and often miss things, so I will hold on to every bit of hope I have.

Whenever I tell people my story, they feel bad for me, say they could never imagine going through this all. However, almost everyone follows up with, “How do you always seem so happy?” I’ve always come off as a pretty upbeat, happy person, even with my anxiety and depression, it’s just how I am. I feel guilty, when people point it out, or praise me for it, because I would not consider myself happy. I’m not, but I put on a pretty good show. Which people don’t think much of until they hear my story, and hear what I am going through. So yeah, I’m a fake.

I’ve gotten pretty good at masking how I’m feeling, which is both good and bad. When I go through a day, looking all happy and joyful, I’ve learned people have the tendency to think since I seem good, there’s no way I could possibly be so broken. Little do they know, I get home from school and am then bedridden. Or I make excuses to get out of hanging out, because I don’t have the physical or mental energy to do anything. They don’t see that when I leave races or practices early, I go home and cry, I cry until there’s nothing left. So yeah, I can get through the day with a smile on my face, but that could not be farther from the truth of how I’m really feeling.

I am used to pain. I am used to being let down. I am used to sickness. Somehow I wonder how I’ve made it this far, how I’m still alive. How I’ve made it through all these days feeling this bad is beyond me. It’s hard sometimes to want to keep going, but I’ve been finding ways to get through it. I am sick, and I hate that I am, but everything has a reason.

My mind has been a mess lately. I have been receiving news on top of news, none of it being good. I admit it, I'm really struggling. I feel awful, because when I get like this, I shut people out. I have not been talking to my friends, I haven’t even been going next door to see my cousins. I have no motivation for anything on top of feeling sick every living moment. I really don’t want to be a sob story, but dang, this is getting really hard.

I keep beating myself up, I feel like I owe more to my friends. I do this so often. I get in a bad spot, and push everyone away. I know they are worried about me, I know they care. I see their texts pop up on my phone, asking me if I’m okay, saying they miss me, yet I don’t respond. Trying to talk to people is very hard, especially my own friends. It’s easier in my mind to just ignore it all, as bad as I feel about it. But, my true friends still stick around, which I am so extremely thankful for, more than they will ever know.

It feels impossible to find the good. I know this all is happening for a reason, God has a plan and I just have to keep pushing, but I’m exhausted. Everyday I need to search harder for reasons to be thankful, and that hurts. I want to be thankful to be here, to be living, but it’s tough. I know lots of people have it much worse than me, which is why I feel guilty for even thinking this way, but it’s honestly how I feel. I am struggling to change it.

So, there’s my life, an update I guess. I’ve learned I tend to have a different thinking of things than other kids I know, which is good and bad. With all of this being said, I still wouldn’t change a thing. I don’t want to be sick, but I know I will make it out and I will be able to use everything I’ve been through for the greater good, some day.