Everything is Wrong With Me -or- Maybe I'm a Hypochondriac
A friend of mine posted the following on
Facebook:
Doctors in medical dramas when a patient has a
mystery
illness: I must examine every symptom and run every test!
I won’t rest
until I’ve cracked this case!
Doctors in real life when a patient has a
mystery illness:
Hmmm have you considered that you’re faking it?
I’ve never had a doctor tell me I’m faking it,
but I have had them tell me in some way or another that they can’t find
anything wrong with me... so it could be in my head, or it could be related to
one of my existing illnesses.
Then they don’t give me any advice on how to get
better.
One great example is that I’m exhausted. All the
time. 24/7. I typically sleep like the dead. I’m asleep as soon as my head hits
the pillow. I could sleep through a tornado – and yet I’m always so damn
tired. Not just “sort of” tired. Not “I need an extra cup of coffee” tired.
It’s nodding off at the wheel, can’t keep my eyes open at my desk tired.
Multiple doctors have written this off as a side
effect of hypothyroidism, which I was diagnosed with over a decade ago. I’m on
medication for it and have my levels checked fairly regularly, so you’d think
my exhaustion shouldn’t just be from that illness. Of course many people
with hypothyroidism will tell you that you still suffer from a lot of the
symptoms, even with medication. I can deal with most of the symptoms, but my
exhaustion makes it difficult to function.
I finally started seeing a wonderful
endocrinologist who has helped me immensely. When I told him about my
exhaustion he asked if I snore. My soon-to-be-ex-husband was with me at that
particular visit, and he enthusiastically said “YES, YES SHE DOES.” I had a
sleep study done and was diagnosed with sleep apnea. It turns out that even
though I remain unconscious all night, I actually wake myself up by not
breathing an average of once a minute.
Gee, that’ll make a person pretty darn tired!
I’d like to go back to my old primary care
doctor - the one who said I was tired just because I was getting older and had
kids - and shove that test score in her face.
Anxiety has convinced me that since a few
doctors didn’t take my complaints seriously in the past, it’s probably not
worth bringing up new issues now. What if they don’t believe me? What if
they think it’s in my head? What if they think I’m crazy? Then there’s the
worst possibility – what if they just don’t care?
Luckily I’ve changed doctors and have settled on
a great team that truly listens to me and takes my complaints seriously. I do
sometimes wonder if I’m a hypochondriac. Is there a word for being paranoid
that you’re paranoid about having every illness you come across??
I think it’s just my anxiety that makes me
double check symptoms of various illnesses, not actual hypochondria. If my
symptoms don’t line up, I admit I don’t have the illness. Okay, so I may check
two or three sources before accepting that I don’t have it… but I eventually
get there. Eventually.
And on the off chance my symptoms do line up
with an illness, it’s usually quite a while before I bring it up to my doctor.
First I wait to make sure it’s not just a coincidence. If the symptoms stick
around for several months, I decide to talk to my doctor about it. Not that I
mention it that first appointment. I usually go to several appointments
fully intending on talking about it, and then chicken out before I get up the
nerve to actually mention it. (See the previously mentioned list of what-ifs.)
My ADHD soon-to-be-ex-husband used to say he
thought I was also ADHD. Naturally when he suggested this, I looked up the
symptoms. While I don’t have the hyperactive aspect, I do have a lot of other
symptoms. I thought about it for a few years before I finally mentioned it to
my doctor. While I did have the symptoms, they didn’t interfere with my daily
life too much, so I didn’t think it was worth mentioning. When it got to where
I was legitimately having trouble focusing on tasks at work and reading my
textbooks at school, I finally brought it up. My doctor said it made sense and
referred me to a psychologist. The psychologist conducted an assessment and
later diagnosed me with ADHD.
I wasn’t just being paranoid! Vindication! (Let’s
avoid mentioning my growing list of predetermined diagnoses and the future of
healthcare, shall we?)
It’s hard enough to talk to my physicians about
illnesses I think I may have. What’s even harder is talking to therapists about
my past and what goes on in my head. I’ve never liked talking to therapists.
I’ve had several, and the longest I’ve ever stuck with one is a few months. I
make a lot of excuses – I have a high copay; I can’t miss work; I’m much
better, really. But what it comes down to is my constant fear that they’re
going to say I have no reason to have all these problems, or it’s all my own
doing.
During therapy sessions, if I talk about several
separate issues and they ask what else is bothering me, I often say that I
can’t think of anything else. I don’t want to bother them with too many
problems all at once. I’m pretty sure any therapists who may be reading this
right now are probably shaking their heads at me. It is, after all, their job
to listen to my problems for an hour. Try telling my anxiety that. Anxiety
convinces me that if I talk about too many problems it will invalidate them and
the therapist won’t listen to me.
I’ve decided anxiety doesn’t want me to get
better. Anxiety wants me rocking back and forth in a corner, thinking everything
is wrong with me, but too afraid to do anything about it. I’m trying really
hard to do just the opposite.
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