No explanation

There is no good explanation but I don’t have an ulcer.  I’m glad, of course, but there is something satisfying about giving my maladies a name.  I found out  I had bipolar and thought, “Of course.”  It was through tears.  I will never forget my call to my dad.  I called him on his office phone and blurted out, “Daddy, I have bipolar.”  and he said “This is Fred Seymore”  again.  (obviously not his real name.)  At that point, I knew, through tears, that this all was real.  If I told my dad, it was real.  If I had a name for myself, it must be real.

I was on a pay phone (remember those?) off of one of those very wealthy little towns in the middle of our large, metropolitan area.  I am crying in to the phone.  I tell him to call mom.  I hang up the phone to go to the hospital and some guy in a great big truck offers me to become more than friends.  I declined.

Things got a little complicated and sketchy at that point.  My trip to the hospital was relaxing and useful.  They didn’t cure me but I came out with something I hadn’t had for a while – that thing would be hope.  That diagnosis -note I didn’t say ‘label’ made me believe one day I could be better.

So, when I thought I had a ulcer, things were good.  I had been throwing up as much as six times in two weeks.  I had nausea most of the time.  Once or twice I was met with severe abdominal pain.  It was way more painful than my epidural free birth-experience.

So, I went to the radiologist and I drank some alka-seltzer type medicine and I was told not to burp.  Then I drank this thick, barium treat.  My stomach looked like a large jelly fish.  The doctor was funny, vivacious and carefree.  She was the one who told me I had esophageal spasms but not a whole lot else.

So, my new option is probably going to the drag oneself from specialist to specialist.  I will get more blood drawn.  I will probably throw up randomly.

The truth is, I don’t have that kinda time to manage another illness.  I don’t want to spend hours in waiting rooms, screwing with my diet and staying away from whatever foods.  I have an inkling that fruit juice might make me sick and I’ll quit drinking that, but am not prepared to cut out fruit completely.

That’s all for now,

Malakoa

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