Eyes, Doctors and Books

After seeing the eye specialist again, and talking with him and my neuro together. They believe I have a very high pressure of CFS, which is causing pressure on my optic nerves, which is causing all my vision issues which will, in fact, lead to blindness. I have to undergo more testing. Yeah.

I've been worried for years about going blind. I've been telling anyone that would listen something was wrong. I've been screaming it really loud since my incident in February. No one listened. The neuro casually decided to look into after my last visit but wanted me to be seen by the eye doc again. He noticed right away the seriousness of the problem - though he MISSED IT last Fall when I saw him.

The longer this goes on, the quicker I'm becoming blind with no chance of reversal.

Why does it take a person years and begging and pleading before someone says that something just isn't right here and looks in to it? The eye doctor was so concerned he wanted me admitted to the ER. I refused. Flat out refused. It's been like this for so damn long now. No one gave a damn. Yet, now they are going overboard. Bite me.

Doctors are a strange breed. Some will listen to you. Some won't have a clue what they are doing or even talking about. Others act as if you have no idea what you are talking about (even while describing your symptoms). And we have the awesome ones - who don't have time for you - regardless of what is wrong with you. They will tell you anything to make you go away.

I've had run-ins with them all.

The big medical companies keep saying you should have one doctor that knows your entire history and stay with them. Have they met insurance companies? Have they even met some of these doctors? I've seen doctors seem like they are heaven sent for many years. Then, out of the blue, they don't care if you are really sick, they will see you in 6 weeks. I've been through more doctors than I have friends, lovers, family, acquaintances combined.

People are pushing to get better health care. To have a more reasonable medical costs. To have better treatments and diagnosis. Yet, it's only getting worse. I've been looking for a dermotologist for ten years now. Either they aren't taking new patients or they will only take the state medical insurance. Let's hope that mole I have that's different sizes, different colors with a jagged border isn't cancer. I'm guessing it's not since I'm still alive, but it would be really nice to know.

Anyways, I also finished the book I was reading. It was good. It wasn't great. The reviews all say how funny it was - I didn't see a single funny thing in the whole book. Nothing. I saw a serious injury that, by some miracle, healed itself completely with no lasting effects at all. Yes, I'm laughing now. The chances of having no lasting effects after being diagnosed with a TBI is slim. There's always something. It could be minor, but it's there, especially for as long as the main character had issues. It wasn't as if she only had issues for a few days or weeks. They went on for months, then  just went away with nothing left behind.

I want to contact the author again and tell her how I feel now that I've finished it. I did contact her on Twitter initially. With only so many characters to write, I can't figure out how to write it out without being a blunt jerk: Ur Bk is lie. Was OK as fiction. Failed for TBI ppl evrywhre. That just sounds too harsh. Besides, it will leave her wondering why I feel that way. There's no way to fully explain my thoughts and feelings and how it was so unlikely. Just like the quiet shy girl ending up with a prince on a white horse coming to her rescue. It truly fell into that category for me.

*sigh* Maybe I should write a book about myself. Maybe I should make it clear on what it is really like. How you do heal, but it's only to a point. How there are people that are worse than myself. Then there are those that are a little better off than myself. Overall, though, no one truly heals completely and totally from this. How hard it is. How ugly and sad it is. It's not a joke - though I didn't feel it was written as a joke, but some people that don't get it took it as a joke, I guess.

Maybe I should at least try.

Maybe

Reading Tears

I love to read. It's part of who I am. I still enjoy it, even with my new me. I have been exploring free ebooks on different sites, like Amazon. If something catches my eye, I download to read in the future. So my Kindle Fire is full of books that I have downloaded. I have found several new favorite authors this way and have went on to purchase other novels by them. I don't see why people are so against such a thing. It's a great way to "test drive" a novel before putting down good hard earned cash. I gladly pay for more if the author's free novel was outstanding and will continue to do so. 

That being said, I normally see this huge list of books on my ereader. I have no idea what any of them are about by the time I get to them. I'll spin the carousel back and forth and land on something that just seems to hit the spot. Sometimes it does, other times I wonder what I was thinking. 

Today it landed on one that I could not, for the life of me, figure out what it would be about.Clearly, though, when I saw it on Amazon it pulled my interest. So I decided to begin.

I'm about a third of the way through this new book. I am struggling with it. The writing is great. The grammar and punctuation and spelling are perfect. The story line has me hooked. 

So what's the problem?

It's the story of a young girl that suffers a TBI. 

I'm trying to find out if it's based on the author's personal experience, someone close to her, or if she just researched it. 

Does it matter? Not really. You see, I am struggling with it because I get a couple more pages in and I have to stop. I can no longer see the pages with the tears flowing out of my eyes. My heart just sinks into my stomach and twists. My eyes are flooded. I'm gasping to catch my breath. 

I know this girl. I feel this girl. I am this girl. 

The things she feels, sees, comprehends and doesn't comprehend are so very real to me. It's my life. People reacting as if it's not a big deal. People not understanding. People being rude and mean. People trying to be helpful but only frustrating you more. 

I will finish this novel. I will. It might break me, but I will. I will also find out how the author can relate. I will. I need to. 

Maybe I should attempt to write about my life. It would be a struggle, but it might be the struggle that is needed. For people to finally understand where I'm coming from. With my daily struggles with simple basic things. Maybe I should.