I Can't Feel My Foot, But It Itches: Adventures In Sickness

I haven't been feeling well lately. The symptoms are vague (except for occasionally not being able to feel my foot, save the unmerciful itching, but I don't think there is a name for that), but I am miserable, and spend most of my energy trying to sleep, trying to stay awake, or trying to eat. This feeling (not the foot part) overtakes me several times a year, usually just after I have started making progress toward a goal; the dragging end to many of my beginnings. I think this is coincidental, as it happens so often, by the time I have regained some kind of human functioning and stepped toward progress, it returns.

I have semi-joked about having Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (the "Sick and Tired" episode of The Golden Girls pretty much sums up my life with doctors, except for the end where Dorothy finally finds someone competent), but have dismissed the notion as hypochondria. Every time I get into this state, the idea resurfaces. Having an already diagnosed chronic illness makes it far less like that I will be diagnosed with another one, even if it makes it more likely that I have one. Autoimmune disorders like company ( and migraines seem to be their BFF). Doctors don't believe women with unverifiable symptoms.

I can deal with the pain, I spend almost every moment of my life in pain. The issue is the lethargy. My brain races with things I want desperately to do, but there are days I cannot get out of bed, and nights when I can't get up off of the couch to go to bed. The situation has become downright Proust-ian, except that I am usually too tired to write, and I'm not a literary genius. Overlooking those small details, it is uncanny.

Toxic

I am convinced that there is toxic mold growing in my bathroom, next to the shower. Roughly four o'clock in the morning seemed a good time to tackle it. Because I am me, I went for it, then looked up instructions only after realizing that I should probably be wearing a mask and gloves. Did I mention I'm allergic to mold? I feel a bronchospasm coming on, and am not really sure what to do next. Maybe I should sleep on it, and hope I wake up.

Attention Deficit... Hey Look at the Shiny...

For years I've thought I had something similar to ADD, but never really researched the topic. I only knew the most discussed symptoms, and believed some of what I experienced did not fit. Because of the descriptions of the disorder from people who have it, I decided to finally look up some information. Once I wandered back to the computer, I took the quick assessment available here. According to the site, anyone who experiences 10 or more of the symptoms listed likely has Attention Deficit Disorder, and should be checked out by a doctor. I have 21 of the listed symptoms. So, maybe I do have ADD, or maybe I should stop using diagnostic tools I find on the internet.

If Boober Fraggle Had WebMD

One of my favorite TV shows as a kid was Fraggle Rock.  In fact, as soon as I finish watching all of The Muppet Show, I think I will be seeing Fraggles for awhile. My obsessive nature led me to the Muppet Wiki where I can follow along with the episode guide and determine the puppeteer behind, or below, each Muppet. (Yeah, I know it's a bit much, but if I like something I like to dive in and learn as much as possible.) While I was clicking around one day I stumbled on Boober Fraggle's page and realized that aside from taking joy in laundry and being overly superstitious, I am the human version of Boober Fraggle.

A bit about Boober from the character page at Hensen.com 

According to Boober, anything that can go wrong surely will, and when it does, it will inevitably happen to him. Boober denies that he is a hypochondriac; he claims he is just practicing the symptoms because he’s bound to get the diseases. But Boober’s negative attitude has a big plus – he can see real trouble coming a mile away, a useful attribute in a land of eternal optimists. 

While I fancy myself an optimist, I am always prepared for the worst, convinced that it will happen, because it usually does. I think that inner Boober is what keeps me alive, keeps me safe. But, if I'm honest I'm a big ol' Boober with a touch more optimism. That's not what I wanted to talk about though, my favorite bit was the part about denying being a hypochondriac.