File Under: And The Cow Says Moo.

At some point in all of our childhoods, we played with a "See 'N Say" toy. You pulled the string, the arrow spun, landed on a farm animal, you heard the animal sound. You couldn't pick which animal, you just kept pulling till you got your favorite one. Mine was always Cow. 

My very nice care team responded to my mail this morning, they are very responsive when you ask them very specific questions.  

The conversation went like this “To be honest, it is still not clear what is going on. I suspect that the elevated levels are from your medications BUT you do have some suggestion of liver disease and an enlarged spleen. I think, to be cautious, the best next step would be to be get a liver-spleen scan and a bone marrow biopsy. Happy to discuss in person first if you would like, or I can see you after this testing is done.”  

“Let's schedule all the tests you need and talk when you get the results back. When six of your 11 blood tests come back marked “abnormal,” and the ultrasound test is not great, I feel a bit in the dark without your skilled guidance.” 

That was me “adulting.” That was me pulling the string and hoping I landed on the Cow. 

When I saw the doc for the first time, she told me a bone marrow may be necessary. She saw me cringe, and said “I've done thousands of them, its not as bad as it used to me. With you, it ought to be easy, considering you body type.” To which I responded “well yeah, I'm so skinny, if you hold me up to the light, you can practically see them.” That was me pulling the string and landing on the Sheep.  

We're still operating under the premise that “It's more likely to be a blood disease than Cancer.”  

That's not exactly the comfort that it may sound at first glance. Neither of them are great, and I assume both of them are treatable, but still... 

This is not a journey any of us want to go on, a bone marrow still requires a drill into your hip bone, but the anxiety does not play well with my mental health.  

When asked about it, I used to say “there is a certain freedom in madness.” It's what drove me to my addiction in the first place, and in spite of the life-threatening consequences, self-medicating worked. I cared less, and I was a much nicer person to be around. They softened my rough edges, and made me feel empowered, I could take on a challenge and win. That was me landing on Dog. 

I know why people go off their meds; they either don't work or have terrible side effects. I am in both camps. I'm in the same place I was when I started on my first meds 30 years ago. I don't have the crushing Depression, but I miss the Mania. On my current meds you feel like you are in a glass bottom boat; you can still SEE the sharks when they get close, and they're always there, you just hope they can't get to you. But like they said in Jaws, sometimes you feel like “we're going to need a bigger boat.”  

I know why addicts in recovery “pick up.” Sobriety is hard. It's a decision you have to make every day. And some days are harder than others even after all these years. 

If I said what I'm facing is hard, I doubt anyone would disagree with me. And if I said that I'm ready to chuck it all, I would not be lying. I'm tired of always second guessing myself and asking "is what I'm feeling right now real?" Because I'm just tired of the way I feel right now. 

People always tell me "look how far you have come," "Look at the stuff you have faced," "You always land on your feet,"  "You're so strong." 

I'm tired of being strong, it's exhausting. 

My standard response to situations like this has been "put your shoulder to the wheel, and get through it, because nobody is coming to save you." 

Sometimes I feel like I'm doing it for other people. I  don't want to be seen as a victim and I hate asking for help. Maybe not the healthiest path, but it's worked more often than not. 

The only thing that keeps me from taking that next step is knowing the outcome. You can’t keep self-medicating for the rest of your life. In the grand scheme, addiction is worse than Cancer or liver disease, it will inevitably end in tears. I never want to end up a sweaty mess in my underware sobbing on the kitchen floor again, because the next step would have been my last step. 

 

I want is to land on Cow. All I want to to hear is Moo. 

And so I’m going to keep pulling that string till I get it.