The worst part about chronic illness, besides the debilitating issues that come with it, is finding a medical professional who:

• Gives a damn
• Wants to treat the illness and not the symptoms
• Has compassion for your situation and how it affects you
• Will take any action at all besides throwing medications at you
• Believes that you actually have something wrong

I can’t even count how many professionals have dismissed me over the years when I was sick. I remember having a sinus infection that was pretty gross and I was told it was in my head and that “motherhood” was getting to me. Nevermind the mucus or me having issues breathing due to congestion, but apparently “motherhood” was my problem. He prescribed yoga and I prescribed that I be referred to any other doctor on the planet.

Now I’ve had some super amazing doctors and I’ve had some real duds that I came to believe took their courses online for an honorary degree from clown college. It gets frustrating when you are in severe pain, can’t walk, have chest pain, and they look at you like you made an appointment just to bother them. I know this because I remember one doctor actually rolling his eyes at me. Patient “care” at its best. All I ever heard was “You’re too young to be this sick.” Tell that to the pediatric cancer ward because disease doesn’t care how old you are. It hits when it hits.

For a while I just began to believe that maybe I’m just crazy. Maybe I should exercise, eat healthy, and do better with my life. So I did. I pushed myself and changed my entire life. Some days I spent over 4 hours in the gym. I felt like a rock star only much broker and no illegal drugs in my system. It sounds like I was headed to the land of healthy living and victory right?! Nope.

I haven’t been in the best health for most of my life but 2011 is when most of took it’s toll. I suspected cancer and everything that the WebMd rabbit hole took me down. Doctor after doctor. Diagnosis after diagnosis. It was exhausting and luckily at that point in time, my insurance was decent enough to cover me. It took a family practice doctor one look at me as he opened up a medical book right there in front of me to say, “Girl, have you ever had an ANA test? That’s your first step to finding out what is going on.” Hallelujah! Finally a plan of action!

The journey only began there. I had someone who believed me which felt like pure relief and sheer terror at the same time. Little did I know what would lie ahead of me and how far this would go but all I know is this: When you are at the bottom, you can only go up from there!