Last week I was fairly certain that I was getting wildly ill.

So certain that I went to see a doctor.  Which — while seemingly counter-intuitive for a person with an autoimmune disease  — is unusual for me.  I see enough doctors on a regular basis that voluntarily going is not high on my list of things to do.

I was convinced that I would be reprimanded for not having gotten a flu shot.  Told I had the worst possible version of the flu.  And subsequently spend a week (minimum) near death.

Nope.

I was told I have allergies.

Yeah.  Anti-climactic.  And also, infuriating.  Allergies are the worst.  Just … awful.  There’s no real cure (sort of like the flu, right?) with the added benefit of coming back seasonally to torment my head, my balance, and my sanity.

And here’s where I’m at, nearly ten days since ‘diagnosis’, post-steroid treatment, and saddled with the prospect of squirting sh*t up my nose indefinitely — I’m depressed.

Health is such a tricky thing.  My health is compounded by the added bonus of multiple sclerosis, chronic, low-grade inflammation and a myriad of other, delightful maladies associated with the former.  But health — for all of us –is tricky.  Navigating it is sort of like taking a leap of faith on a wing and a prayer.  Hoping that what works for the majority also works for me.  Trying desperating to interpret the messages my body is sending me — messages sent in a foreign language that I do not speak and can only vaguely de-code.

Always in the back of my mind are the following (thank you, Dr. M).  Is this MS? Is it aging? Is it nutrition? Is it digestion? Is it a reaction to my medication? Am I getting ‘normal’ sick? What did I eat that I shouldn’t have?

Maybe I’m tired all the time because I’m worrying all the time.  Because I’m working so effing hard to be as healthy as I can be … and still, sometimes, failing.  What a letdown.

And our health system (let’s separate it from health insurance momentarily because — woof — I cannot tackle that thought process tonight) is a mess.

Acute illness and chronic illness are treated … the same?  Here’s the diagnosis, here’s the drug protocol.  Come back in three months and let us know how you are doing.  Thanks and have a nice day.

But wait….  Acute illness can be treated — usually swiftly and effectively — with modern, western medicine.  But chronic illness?  Why aren’t we talking about food?!? Why are doctors trained with only 16 hours of nutritional education?  Why have we abandoned that which saved us for centuries?  Because it doesn’t make us money?  Because drug companies can’t produce it, market it and profit from it?  Because I can grow lettuce in my back yard?  Is that why it isn’t a factor anymore?

And functional medical doctors — the ones who do believe in food as medicine,  and whole body wellness — yeah, they aren’t covered by insurance.  Because that would be crazy, right?  Helping people get better and reducing medical costs would be bad, right?

Writing this blog post won’t change anything.  Systems take more than angry words to topple.  And if there isn’t a better alternative … why destroy what exists?  I’m just frustrated, I’m tired.  I would really like to not feel completely off balance and woozy every moment of every day.

Ce la vie.  Such is my life currently.  God Bless America.

xox, g