The update on me and the Stanford trip
A few days ago, my husband Greg and I (that photos is us on a commuter train station bench somewhere in San Jose) went down to Palo Alto, California (a flight from Seattle that took about an hour and a half) for an appointment with a doctor at Stanford’s Infectious Disease Clinic, where they’re currently studying chronic fatigue syndrome. I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia in 2012. This summer marks ten years of living with symptoms, and five years of living with a diagnosis. I’ve never questioned my diagnosis, but I know that CFS and Fibro are often either mistaken for each other or interlinked (a lot of people seem to have dual diagnosis).
Still, I was surprised to learn that my Stanford doctor believes I’ve been misdiagnosed. I have CFS, not Fibro. The appointment was very thorough, and Greg and I don’t have any doubts about his summary. We got home from our trip last night, and today I spent the day teaching and learning yoga at my yoga teacher training program. I haven’t fully processed the CFS diagnosis, but I have feelings. Lots of feelings. I’m frightened by it, I’ll admit. My doc’s descriptions of mitochondrial dysfunction and his urging that I stop over-exerting myself in any way or risk hurting myself, was scary to hear. Will I be able to teach yoga after I graduate? Will I ever feel strong and healthy again?
Stanford is researching CFS, which is good, and they have a treatment they’re working on, that I get to try: targeted anti-virals. Long story, don’t ask me to explain it all right now, I’m super tired. But, I have a friend who went through this protocol and is feeling so much better. And my Stanford doc says that while some people experience no change from the anti-virals, others have very noticeable improvement, and some even eventually go off them after a year or so because their symptoms are entirely gone. I’ll begin the drug(s) in a couple of weeks. Yeah, I have a lot of feelings. SO MANY FEELINGS.
The update on the recent spoonie post
Over the years, my most enduring personal goal has been, “write something”. Usually, it’s this rosy little dream of standing in Powell’s and seeing my book on a shelf, and having someone else walk up next to me, reach for it, and I say sheepishly, “You know, I wrote that.” And they say, “Really? I love this book!” And then we talk for two hours and maybe get coffee, and become Facebook friends. Every few months, we meet up and get brunch, and talk about our lives.
My dreams, they are so big.