Road to THE Diagnosis

It took so many years to get diagnosed with Lupus. I was a sickly young adult who turned into a sickly adult. I was getting medication for my latest symptoms. I mean, if my doctor's knew that I had PCOS and endometriosis, I would be aware of my irregular periods, severe pain, excessive bloating, infertility issues. Put me on the pill...like now! My doctor's did not discover I had PCOS until an ectopic pregnancy and a miscarriage. My endometriosis was not discovered until my hysterectomy at 39. Before this, I already had another ectopic pregnancy and another miscarriage. So after my rainbow (IVF) babies were born, which is a baby born after a miscarriage, stillborn, or neonatal death, the surgery was a realistic option to rid me of that physical pain. All the small symptoms never added up to THE diagnosis.

I was on my third trip to the hospital because of my latest cruel symptom. After all the tests came back normal. The ER doctor sat next to me and listened to my entire medical history. Everything and a bag of chips. The ER doctor suggested that my primary doctor test my ANA. ANA blood test looks for antinucler antibodies in your blood. He brought up Lupus. Once I was discharged, I was on a mission to find any and all information on Lupus...Toni Braxton and Kristen Johnston...oh, that sounds bad...ok, that sounds like me...yes, that just happened...ugh, it had to be! If my primary doctor tested my ANA various years ago, so much of the trajectory of my life would have been altered or changed somehow. Isn't that some Back to the Future stuff?

I think about that...what if? what? what if? Here I am. I hear Christmas music. I hear conflict rising in my two girls' voices. I hear the guitar. My parent's are watching Caracol, Colombian network television on high. Dang, Chica, my beautiful big puppy, snores really, really loud. Here I am. I live in a really noisy fun house.