Around this time two years ago I was at my doctors feeling wiped out and unable to shake off … well … what? “I dunno … I’m just not … right … not quite right somehow … you know?”
I had all the routine blood tests, some repeated, none of any concern to the 3 (or was it 4) doctors I saw. So I started a health kick as this lethargic feeling must be due to being out of shape – right? Hmmm.
Around this time a year ago, I was forced to abruptly stop my efforts to get back to working full hours as I was hit with (what I now know was) a monumental relapse in my ME/CFS. Fighting to get back to work had only made me more ill than ever – not helped by not knowing what I was really dealing with.
This time last year I happened to see Dr H and she gently suggested perhaps this wasn’t just a prolonged recovery from Glandular Fever – perhaps this was Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. She gave me some reading material, told me to see if anything sounded familiar. She gave me a sick note to carry me over Christmas and suggested I go back in the New Year if I still felt unwell and made a double appointment to discuss things further.
I was innocently hoping it was just a cold and a couple of weeks off would have me back on my feet. Ha!
So this time last year Growler and I started to have private discussions about “what if it IS this CFS thing …” but decided to say nothing to anyone else until we had a confirmed diagnosis. I wrestled (we both wrestled) with the idea that this crappy health of mine was not going to disappear overnight or allow me to fight through to recovery in any way that was at that time familiar to me.
Two years ago I knew there was something wrong.
One year ago without knowing it I worked my last day in the office and uncovered that what was wrong was no longer in doubt.