Appearances can be deceiving with a chronic illness.  Looking at a person you usually can’t even begin to see what they are going through.  Sometimes even your doctor can’t see what’s right in front of them.  Sometimes you have to spell it out for them.  Especially when you have a lot of symptoms and medical problems, I’ve found it extremely helpful to bring your doctor a printed list summarizing your medical history and list of symptoms broken down by category.

This serves another purpose as well.  When you have an unexpected and most unwelcome flare of autoimmune pancreatitis pain, you can distract yourself by making it into art while you wait for your pain meds to kick in!

Head over to Wordle to try it out for yourself (and feel free to link me in the comments).

Right now I’m waiting for some extra pain meds to kick in.  I’m trying to tapper my Prednisone dose down from 25mg a day to 20.   It doesn’t seem to be going well.  After dinner that telltale Autoimmune Pancreatitis pain started up for the first time since I was in the hospital last.  Not good.  I’ve also been running low grade fevers in the afternoons.  I suppose I’ll be putting in a call to my Rheumatologist tomorrow.

I also need to call my Internist for an appointment to check out what seems suspiciously like a sinus infection.

And I have a handful of other medical related calls to make (including some especially dreaded ones to my insurance company).  It’s enough to make me want to go hide under the covers and go back to sleep.

I always tell people that you have to be your own advocate, but it can be downright exhausting under the best of circumstances let alone when you are sick.

But I, like so many others, don’t have anyone else to do it for me.  So I have to be my own advocate.  I have to stay on top of these phone calls and appointments and lab results and new symptoms.  But lately it just wears me down and out.  It’s a lot of stress and a lot of effort.  Mentally and emotionally.  It’s all in the details, and so much is at stake.

It shouldn’t be this way though.  When people are sick they should be able to just focus on getting better and not navigating through medical bureaucracy and red tape.  It scares me to wonder what would happen if I became completely to ill to do it for myself.  Who would advocate for me then?  There are so many people already in that very situation.  I shudder to think what kind of care they are getting.

There must be a better way.

In the meantime, I do what I have to do regardless of the brain fog making it hard to think straight and the fatigue making it hard to keep my eyes open.  Because I’ve learned that even though being a professional patient is a full time job, you don’t ever get to call in sick.

Today is the first day of National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week, and it has me thinking about thinking about both the visible and invisible aspects of my illnesses.   Nearly a year ago now my invisible illnesses became a lot more visible.  The pain from my arthritis became so severe I could no longer walk or even stand.  I was forced to use a wheelchair for my mobility.

Before the wheelchair (and the walker that came before it), my illness was completely invisible.  At the time I found it completely frustrating that no one could see that I was sick.  People assumed that what they couldn’t see couldn’t possibly be serious.  Sometimes people assumed that what they couldn’t see wasn’t even real.  Now I wish I could ditch the wheelchair and still pass myself off as “normal” when I wanted to.  I feel like now my first impression always inevitably includes my wheelchair.

But despite this very visible symbol of my illnesses, I feel more invisible than ever.  It is very hard to go out in a wheelchair, and I am usually too tired and in too much pain to do so.  As a result, I am mostly home-bound.  I am literally invisible to the people in my life I used to see in person.  Out of sight.  Out of mind.

But though I am invisible to most people in the physical world, I am very visible in the virtual world.  Through this blog my illness is not invisible at all.  It is there for people to see plain as day.  Through this blog the invisible becomes visible.  Here I can let you see the things that most people can’t.

Here the joint pain, the numbness in my left side of my body, the severe dryness, the low grade fevers, the debilitating fatigue, the pain when I swallow, the nausea, the stomach pain, the rib pain, the muscle weakness, the tremors, the migraines, the involuntary muscle moments, the memory and concentration problems, the seizures, the sleep apnea, and the obsessive compulsive disorder all become visible.

Here too, the emotional toll is no longer invisible.  The worry, the loneliness, the anxiety for my future, the grief for how things once were, and the sadness for the friends I’ve lost along the way all become visible.

And I especially hope that lessons I’ve learned, the inner strength I’ve found, the faith in myself, and hope for the future are not invisible here either.

National Invisible Chronic Illness Awareness Week is held annually in September and is a worldwide effort to bring together people who live with invisible chronic illness and those who love them.

A virtual conference in held at www.invisibleillnessweek.com and the blog is updated a few times a day during August and September.

Bloggers are welcome to participate anytime, but are encouraged to unite efforts during August and September to increase awareness online and share their experiences as well as encouragement. A badge is available that says you are blogging during the actual awareness week.

Start a blog on Novel Patient Community today and blog about your chronic illness in support of the awareness week!

Just a quick update to let you know I’m alive.  I’m back in the hospital since Thursday.  My fever came back and my pain got worse, so I was readmitted.

We’ve been trying to figure out the right combination of antibiotics to kick this kidney infection I have.  It just is being really stubborn.

In the meantime, I’ve been dealing with the normal hospital drama.  Allergies and latex intrusions.  Things not happening in a timely fashion or at all.  For instance, I’m fresh out of IV sites.  I’ve had 12 IVs so far.  And number 12 is hurting.  My doctor ordered a PICC line for me yesterday.  I still haven’t received it.  So now I might need to get IV number 13 just to keep getting my IV antibiotics.  IF they can find a place to put IV number 13.

But I’m hanging in there.  Trying to stay postive.  Because what else can I do?  Right now I’m looking forward to take out from my favorite restuarant for dinner.  When your in the hosptial its the small things like that that make a big difference.

I am thankful for internet access and my laptop.  They are keeping me sane.  I am thankful for my own pillow.  I am thankful I’m not even sicker than I am.  I am thankful that I like my doctors.  I am thankful for my mom and sister and dad and caregiver Melissa who have been visiting me so I don’t get too lonely.  And I am especially thankful to all my online friends who keep my company 24/7 and are always there when I need them!

Being in the hosptial sucks.  But it does put things into perspective.