Last night was my support group meeting. I had a fellow support group member [well she's more than that...my friend] pick me up from home and take me, plus she took me home after. She's an inspiration. I have always admired her strength.
We had a great turnout for our meeting, lots of people and even a new member [btw-which was a little weird], but I guess we are all weird in our own ways.
I was pretty hungry because I haven't been all that good yesterday, crying at the doctor's office and just the stress alone. So I encouraged my friend to have fish & chips [like I was having]. The service really sucks at this meeting place, actually the meeting place just sucks in general. We had our meeting and the facilitator, plus my friend made baskets for every member of our group [so thoughtful]. We continued to do regular stuff, figuring out fundraising, 9 News Fair, selling Lupus bracelets, garage sales, etc. I didn't feel so good. I had started taking the new drug for my seizures [Keppra], plus I just ate. My head was hurting so bad, but I didn't want to get up to go to the bathroom and miss out on anything. I started to feel really sick & could smell everything in the whole establishment. I finally got up and went to the [gross] bathroom. I had diarrhea [pleasant, huh?], washed my hands, went back to the meeting, then next thing you know...I feel like I am about to pass out again, my head is really hurting now. I get up the second time, as I was walking to the bathroom, I felt it...started running and couldn't quite make it, but vomitted in the sink. Ugh! I thought it was over...and I was quite disgusted to see my dinner regurgitated in front of me...I tried to get it to go down the sink. Next thing you know, I am vomitting again [really feeling bad now]. It is the like the never-ending vomit. Then I wash my hands, try to leave the [gross] bathroom, ran into a stall and had diarrhea [yet again]. I finally make it out of the [gross] bathroom, embarassed, not knowing what to do...I whisper into my friend's ear telling her that I had vomitted and I couldn't clean it up. I felt really terrible. She asks if I am ready to leave, I give her that look like "yes, I am!" We leave, she drive to Starbucks to get a pick me up & graciously gets me a bottle of water, then takes me home. I finally get home...and only my doggies are home. I run upstairs to the bathroom [yet again] calling out for my daughter to help me. No one answers. I call my husband's cell phone, they were at my sister-in-law's place, which is just down the street. They come home and my daughter takes my temperature it is 96.7. I have no idea what that means? I pass out. I wake up this morning in so much pain, my veins are burning, like they are on fire. I cried. My husband wakes up and massages them...they feel a little better, but still hurt considerably. I couldn't find the thermometer, so I assume that was a sign that I needed to go to work. I got ready and my husband put my bag, lunch and everything I needed in my car. I drove to work, barely making it, I know that I am not supposed to drive, but today was just extremely hard for me. I finally get to work [yes, I know] my husband put a plant in my car that I wanted to bring to work and he said "promise, you'll have David get the plant out of the car for you." I said sure. Well, I didn't keep it. I got out of the car and picked up my huge purse, my lunch bag, my cane [oh, did I forget this part?], I had to wrap up my left foot because it hurt so badly & finally used the damn cane to help me around. I think I am totally embarassed to use it, so I try not to. Okay, back to the damn plant, so I grab the plant with my other hand and drag it up to my office. I was not well. I get up there...take a Vicodin, my head wants to explode, but it doesn't. I ate a whole bunch of fruit, had hot chocolate, took all my [damn] pills. I started to have a nose bleed [of course, cause I'm wearing white], then my head is really pounding, so an hour and half later I take a Vicoprofen & I am really wanting to pound in my head now. I finally tell my office manager that I need to lay down and did so for about 15 to 20 minutes. I get back up...I feel terrible. I had already called my neurologist's office twice and left him messages and have yet to hear back from him. Am I just really imagining this? I am starting to feel like I am. I truly want to die. Why do I have to suffer so much? Why can't I get that peace that I truly ask for? My friend from Saipan writes to me via email, concerned, she has been trying to get a hold of me by phone and has been unable to reach me [honestly, I'm just not answering], so she has been writing me emails, asking if I am okay. I keep responding that I need time to reflect. She writes me another email today, asking if it is okay if she comes to visit me in April to just visit with me & I cry again. I write her back and tell her that honestly I can't give her an answer, sorry.