Day 75

Today I am introducing you to a writing style you are probably already familiar with, but it's one I much enjoy, and desperately need to make use of at the moment. It is called "The Rant." I did not create this style, but I do believe I've enjoyed much success with it, and hopefully, the rant that follows - simply called "Stupid People," will demonstrate that I am adept with ranting.

The hardest part of having a chronic medical condition isn't always the symptoms caused by said condition. Sometimes, it's the stupidity of people you foolishly talk to about the condition. I have a cornucopia of conditions to choose from, but let's start with infertility.

There is a rule... it's unspoken, and typically ignored, but it is a rule nevertheless, and those of us who've battled infertility are well acquainted with this rule. Don't ask a couple when they're going to have kids. I don't care if they've been "married long enough," or if you think she might be passing her fertility prime. It is none of your damn business. Doesn't matter if it's your sister, your daughter, your best friend... you don't ask this question. Many couple choose not to have kids. IF they want to address that with you, they will. Some couples - like my husband and myself - try for years and go through the heartbreak of failed infertility treatments, and they don't want to have to talk about it because it fucking hurts. It's emotionally painful, and often also physically painful.

People, however, are stupid and insensitive. They ask anyway. Usually, when they ask me, they're sorry they did. I refuse to be polite and just say, "oh, it didn't work out." Nope. You wanna be nosy? Then you get to hear all about my ovarian cysts and the endometrial tissue that lines the insides of my body, swells and bleeds and causes me unspeakable pain. You can hear about how my hair is still falling out after six months of medically induced menopause - oh, how did they do that? Shots in my ass. Yeah, fun stuff. Aren't you glad you asked? The way I look at it, I am doing a service to other people in my shoes. Maybe this person will be sorry enough they asked that they won't repeat that stupid mistake with another couple.

Then there are the ones who, when you first mention "infertility," will interrupt and either say, "well, did you try the treatments?" or "maybe you should adopt." No, I didn't try any treatments. I just like to complain. Duh. All I ever wanted was to be a mother. Of course I tried the damn treatments. Four rounds and two years and I'd had it. I couldn't do it anymore. By then I knew I had not one, but two conditions and the odds of me ever getting pregnant were minuscule. Maybe to you it sounds like I gave up too soon. To me, it sounds like I was done with the monthly heartbreak of not being pregnant... AGAIN. 26 months of that was more than enough, thanks. I had to preserve my sanity, and although I am one of the lucky ones whose marriage wasn't impacted that badly by infertility, it still has an impact. If nothing else, just think about how you'd like to have specifically timed sex that ends in ridiculous ways you don't want to hear about for months on end. It's no picnic.

As for adoption, well... I have fibroymyalgia, depression, Hashimoto's disease, endometriosis, PCOS and my husband has multiple sclerosis. We're hardly ideal candidates for adoption. It's also NOT without the risk of heartbreak, and it's incredibly expensive. We're atheists, and that's also a challenge because many international adoption agencies have a religious foundation. Not to mention, I've already dealt with invasive treatments and tests to figure out what's wrong with my insides. I don't want that same invasive procedure in my personal life to qualify for adoption. We've discussed it, at length. My husband would do it for me... but it's not right for us and it's doubtful we'd qualify anyway, at least not for an infant and for many, many reasons - all personal choices we have every right to make - we don't want to adopt an older child. We don't want to adopt any child, but that's beside the point, because bring up the medical stuff and someone always says, "there are older kids who need a home, too." Yes. Maybe you should adopt one if you feel so strongly about it that you want to tell ME to do it. The bottom line? The answer to "why don't you adopt?" is also "none of your damn business."

Okay, so let's move on to fibromyalgia. I have chronic, near constant pain from this condition. I have some days that are worse than others, but I haven't been pain free for a full day in nearly nine years. I also haven't had a decent night of sleep in that time frame. It takes its toll. I recently decided, partly because of the fibro and partly for other reasons unrelated to medical stuff, that I wanted to teach high school instead of elementary school. It's less physically demanding, and in some ways, less mentally demanding. When you don't sleep well, your brain just gets, well... tired. There's no other way to describe it. Some days, just trying to think hurts.

Fibro is fun because a lot of people don't believe in it still (including my grandmother, though she refuses to just outright say it - or at least she doesn't believe *I* have it). Researchers still really aren't sure what the hell it even is, how it is caused. Which makes treatment options sort of a shot in the dark, really. There are only three FDA approved treatments. One is Lyrica, which did literally nothing for me or to me. Nothing good or bad... I had no reaction to it (which is good because at least it means I didn't have terrible side effects). The other two are both antidepressants, and to be specific, they're SSRIs. I can't take SSRIs. They give me terrible depression (ironically) and cause extreme anxiety attacks. That said, out of desperation at one point, I did try an SSRI called Elavil. The smallest dosage possible made me sleep for 17 hours (and it was a heavy, hard sleep - not restorative at all). I also tried gabapentin, which is a drug chemically similar to Lyrica, but it's generic and use of it to treat fibro is "off label." It helped the pain some, but made me crazy - literally. I was angry, hostile and miserable. It wasn't worth it. I also tried physical therapy, but the therapist wanted me to go down to a center that has a pool. Which would be great, except driving there would take an hour - and driving is one of the more painful activities I can do. My doctor agreed that driving an hour for a 45 minute therapy session I then had to drive an hour home from would just be silly and counterproductive.

So, we've established what I've done for the fibro. At this point, all I can do is get through my days with the various medications that help (like Xanax, Vicodin, Flexeril). I use them as little as possible, but when I need them, I need them. I make no apologies for that. But because of this, when I finish my Master's degree, I plan to look into some of the online charter schools for employment. My grandmother had asked why I was changing to secondary education, and I was explaining all this to her, and she (stupidly) asks, "don't you think that will ever go away?" Uhm, NO. I've told her this before, but I said it again... there is no cure for fibro. I've exhausted the known treatment options. I deal with the pain. I try to live my life as best I can... but if something like working from home can make my life easier, why wouldn't I do it if it's an option??? But you have to know my grandmother to know that it wasn't just an innocent question. It was heavy with unspoken disbelief and accusations. She clearly either doesn't believe in fibro or (more likely) doesn't believe I have it. Which is also really, really frustrating to deal with... and it is stressful, and fibro and stress aren't happy bedfellows.

Which brings me to the main point. People are stupid. I mean, does she think I'm just sitting here in pain not even trying to do anything about it? Part of the issue is probably that I don't complain much, especially to her. Which makes it less likely I could *really* be in so much pain. Now, let's just analyze the source of this unspoken criticism for a moment. Seven years ago, she broke a crown in the front of her mouth. There is still a gap there because she's too terrified to deal with the dentist. She has needed glasses my entire life, but says that her eyes will get "worse" if she wears them, so instead she squints and scares the crap out me whenever I consider she still drives (oh, and mind you - I've worn glasses since second grade. I've had my eyesight improve twice in the past five or six years. Not by much, but still.). Her feet have caused her extreme pain for years, but she doesn't go to a doctor to get inserts made that might help. Next time she says, "don't you think it will ever go away?" I might come back with, "do you think you'll ever get your tooth fixed?" ARGH.

She's not a "bad" person (not that I believe in "bad" and "good," per se). But this aspect of her personality is frustrating and downright pisses me off at times. Just because you are unwilling to do what you need to do to take care of certain issues (like missing teeth), don't assume I am also unwilling. If there was a magic wand that could take away my pain, I'd wave it and say the spell. Unfortunately, no matter how determinedly I point my wand, and no matter who convincingly I shout, "reparo!" there is no magic to fix me. I'm broken. I deal with it... if *I* can deal with it, you should certainly be able to deal with it, and just be glad it's me and not you.

They say mean people suck, and while I concur, I also think stupid people suck, and frankly, there are times when I'd prefer actual malicious intent over stupidity. At least then I can attack back...