What do you mean, "Slower?!?!

So, I had my 3rd Dr.'s appointment yesterday with Dr. Drunk Raisin at California Pacific Medical Center's Health and Healing Center (his last name is Draisen but I always think of little drunk raisins...whatever those would look like) and the hammer came down again. My body is so completely enter twined with my emotions, that ANY sort of procedure that causes me stress, will send my adrenal system into hyper drive, causing me to one, two, or all three of the following things...1. Have a total emotional meltdown. 2. Have a "flare up" of break through pain with fever. 3. A migraine of epic proportions, and throwing up within the first 30 seconds of waking up. Sometimes chills, Renaud's flare ups, sweating, hyperventilating...blah, blah, blah. So now, we're slowing down my healing even more. Try to convince me more that I don't have Lupus...but everything else has to be ruled out, and they cant even get to the ruling out part yet. Yeah, that's how sick I am.

That dull consistent thud you might be hearing is my head hitting my laptop. I am so frustrated because I want MY LIFE. My life how it's supposed to be. My life with a diagnosis and a way to treat it.

Here is the good part, though. Now, stay with me on this one 'cause it's going to get a little "touchy feely", literally.

Since I can remember, my mother never showed physical affection for me. She would hug only when I hugged first, and it would be the dead fish sort of hug that you expect from a woman who blames her only child for totally destroying her life. I, however, am a very touchy feely person, although less so now because it can hurt when someone rubs my skin or hugs too hard.

Now, my sweetie knows exactly how to rub my back when I go into meltdown or flare up mode. My dear, dear, dear friend's Jessica, Aileen, and Angie (My F.A.N.G.s Girls) somehow instinctively know how much pressure to use, where to put it, and how long I need it. That 4 (hopefully 5 with the Healing touch and massage woman) people in my life know this is nothing short of a small miracle for me. The right touch soothes me, calms me, allows me to breathe, allows me to let go, allows me to sleep. Last night being a perfect example of me going into meltdown mode, my sweetie knew to rub my back until I stopped rocking back and forth and started to breathe.

Dr. D.R. gave me a new supplement and recommended a woman that he trusts implicitly with my care. She specializes in Healing Touch and Massage. The way Dr. D.R. explained it to me: Like a still pond of water, the surface tension is static and unyielding, until some ass throws a rock in it and destroys the stillness...well...the pond is me, and the emotions and "crud" from the outside...well...that's the ass with the rock.

My sweetie has learned how to relieve a lot of pain in my calfs, ankles, and feet by massaging in long, smooth, even strokes, and focusing gentle pressure to points that needed it (I have no clue how he found them but he did say he could feel them and he couldn't explain how) and it actually felt good. This woman is going to take care of me and in 4 weeks, I check back in with Dr. D.R. to see if it's time yet, to move forward with the tangled mess that is my mind, body, and spirit.

This, of course, is in conjunction with my guided imagery guru with the soft pink fluffy energy and therapist, Leslie.

I know my mother issues are playing a huge role in this. I never got the physical love that I needed from her, and I'm not exaggerating when I say never. My sweetie knows all about it. If my life was in shambles, her response would be "So, I guess we're not having dinner tonight? *SIGH* Fine." or "Oh, you were in the hospital last night, well, we had to do everything ourselves." Some women were never meant to be mothers, mine is one of those. It's been 5 years now since I have spoken to her and that's a wonderful thing because it allows me to heal from the abuse both physical and emotional that I've endured.