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Most of you probably know, but for those of you that don't, I've been sick for quite a while now. Actually, I've been sick for about seven months now. It begun at the end of October last year when my intestines essentially ceased to function. After a few months, that was sorted out. However, I'm still stick. So I routinely see a doctor for the medical side and a psychologist because being sick plays havoc with my anxiety issues.
The other day I saw my psychologist. It was a pretty interesting session I guess. We talked a lot about coping mentally with being ill, accepting my predicament and finding ways to continue to find meaning in my life since it's become pretty... well boring. What was particularly good though, was that he thinks it's extremely unlikely that my illness is a result of continued anxiety. I later saw my doctor. That was less interesting. Just a routine appointment where he renewed my scripts for my nausea and anxiety medication, filled out a form so the government knows I'm incapable of working right now and then he proceeded to tell me that he thinks that I'm making myself sick subconsciously.
So, why am I telling you all about this? Because I have always really appreciated honesty and always felt better after venting my frustrations. I can't think of a situation that's more ironic than my doctor thinking I'm insane and my psychologist thinking I have a physical illness - nor one that is more infuriating. My health has been gradually improving thankfully, but I'm not thrilled about hitting yet another wall in my recovery because nobody can agree on what's wrong with me. On the plus side though, the absurdity of this situation has provided me with a great deal of amusement and at least I'm not getting worse.
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The Perfect Irony
Most of you probably know, but for those of you that don't, I've been sick for quite a while now. Actually, I've been sick for about seven months now. It begun at the end of October last year when my intestines essentially ceased to function. After a few months, that was sorted out. However, I'm still stick. So I routinely see a doctor for the medical side and a psychologist because being sick plays havoc with my anxiety issues.
The other day I saw my psychologist. It was a pretty interesting session I guess. We talked a lot about coping mentally with being ill, accepting my predicament and finding ways to continue to find meaning in my life since it's become pretty... well boring. What was particularly good though, was that he thinks it's extremely unlikely that my illness is a result of continued anxiety. I later saw my doctor. That was less interesting. Just a routine appointment where he renewed my scripts for my nausea and anxiety medication, filled out a form so the government knows I'm incapable of working right now and then he proceeded to tell me that he thinks that I'm making myself sick subconsciously.
So, why am I telling you all about this? Because I have always really appreciated honesty and always felt better after venting my frustrations. I can't think of a situation that's more ironic than my doctor thinking I'm insane and my psychologist thinking I have a physical illness - nor one that is more infuriating. My health has been gradually improving thankfully, but I'm not thrilled about hitting yet another wall in my recovery because nobody can agree on what's wrong with me. On the plus side though, the absurdity of this situation has provided me with a great deal of amusement and at least I'm not getting worse.
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