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Created on: October 30, 2006 Last Updated: May 11, 2007
Do you fear it? Have you lost a loved one? Find yourself blaming God and then feeling ashamed? Dealing with such intense feelings, you think you will never get over? Wishing for just one more day? Sorry for things you never said?
Would you like someone to throw you a rope? I'd like to share something with you.
I am 60 now but I will never quite get over a sickness, I suffered in my late 20's. The fact is, the devil tried once again, to kill me only this time very slowly and with great agony.
Without boring you with all the reasons why, I will try to explain this weird thing that overcame me. Five doctors could not find the reasons.
When I first became ill, it was sudden and violent. I was sicker than I had ever experienced. The odd thing was that after vomiting, I only felt worse and worse.
It's truly hard to explain the sensations, as it was something akin to nothing I can relate to. It was as if every cell in my body was nauseated, constantly, day in and day out for 8 weeks straight with no let up.
When it could no longer be diagnosed as the flu, I had already begun treating the symptoms, out of desperation.
Phenagrin is a suppository drug given to children as part of prep for surgery. On top of taking a stomach tranquilizer by day, in order to eat and have it stay down, I was also taking valium just to help me to tolerate the constant sensations. At night, there was no possible way to fall asleep without drugging myself with phenagrin, in order to overcome the constant waves of nausea.
The worst part was that I was a young mother with a 10 month old baby and no help. My mornings turned into a routine of crawling on my hands and knees to the nursery, to get my baby, change her diaper and get her breakfast. I crawled so as not to disturb my body any more than necessary because as soon as I stood, there was a countdown. I had 30 minutes to get what I needed done, before the shocking wave of overwhelming nausea hit me and brought me to my face on the floor.
At night, I prepared for the nightmare of trying to get to sleep, by drugging myself. Then I would lie in the bed with the radio blarring to blot out the siren in my head, as the drug intensified the sensations for about 40 minutes before finally subsiding and I slipped into a drugged sleep. As the sensations intensified, I would bite on the blanket with lock jaw tension and whine away the minutes, as tears poured down the side of my face.
Night after night, this went on until I wanted to die. I had thoughts like,
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