Belly

Belly

According to my gastroenterologist (who is quite kind and entertains me with his bowties) there is absolutely, positively nothing physically wrong with my innards. They have run LOADS of tests on everything. He thinks it’s lupus.

Fine, I say.

But I’m terribly dubious.

Tiny shards of glass still slash around in my belly coupled with overwhelming nausea. The pain isn’t as intense as before. Or maybe I’m used to it? Pain tolerance is an interesting thing, especially when you’re always in pain.

A similar thing happened a few years ago with my appendix. Lots of random pains. Docs say nothing is wrong. Two trips to the emergency room when they THOUGHT it was my appendix, but both times it wasn’t. Then, the third time I went to the ER (good times) it was an appendicitis and they had to take it out. (The doc said I had an abnormally big appendix. Strangely, I was proud of this and asked to have a picture. I wonder if this is how boys with big peeps feel?)

Anyway, I have a sneaky suspicion that at some point they will take out my gallbladder. Until then, I suffer. Distracting, irritating pain that comes and goes and isn’t connected to food intake or meds or anything. And that’s JUST my stomach. There is still all of the rest of the lupus crap. Currently, sores in each nostril, one on my tongue, achy motherfucking hip joints, foggy brain and endless fatigue. Endless.

The crease in between my eyes is getting worse because of the constant furrowing.

Chronic pain causes stress and stress can’t be good for pain. Weird vicious cycle.

Argh.

I really don’t like to complain about it. And if you’ve seen me lately, you’d see the healthy me. The fake me.

I lay in bed now with magazines, my new laptop (hello gorgeous) and the intent to have a better day tomorrow. Or at least do a really good job at ignoring this bullshit pain. It’s date night with husbie and I want to be charming and swishy not stooped over, cranky and furrowing.

Wish me luck.