Wsup nigs!
Been too long since I spoke to many of you. And sorry for constantly not replying to messages and not actually being there when it says I'm online on Windows Live, I suck.
I should have been entering my fourth and final year studying French and Linguistics at university right about now; instead, I'm entering my third year of Linguistics and my first year of English Language (which is going to make for really awkward timetabling, I'm sure), with French nowhere in sight. I was forced to drop French, despite achieving Firsts in all coursework and at least 2:1s in all exams. This is because in order to complete my degree, I am supposed to have spent a year in a Francophone country, either at a university or doing a work placement, neither of which is an option for me right now because I'm so sick.
Since just after the last time I posted here a year and a half ago, I've been sick. It started with a bout of flu, I think, and in the months after that I suffered from more colds, chest infections, ear infections, TMI-so-I-won't-go-into-it infections, you name it. There wasn't a week where I didn't have something wrong with me, so it seemed my immune system was severely compromised. All the viruses and infections backed off when summer came, only to replaced by constant and disabling fatigue, musculoskeletal pain and nausea. I saw my GP several times about these symptoms: each time, she told me that it was due to the fact that my routine and exercise had suffered as a result of all those "unlucky" viruses and infections over winter and that I just needed to push myself in terms of physical activity to put it right.
I tried. I ninja'd my boyfriend's gym membership and tried to work out twice a week before my afternoon lectures. And when that was too much for my body to handle and I ended up sitting through lectures twice as dizzy, exhausted and nauseous as usual, I tried swimming in the evenings twice a week. This had much the same effect and I'd come home at 7pm and go to sleep without dinner. I'd wake up after up to 12 hours of sleep and feel as though I hadn't slept at all, every morning - and I used to be renowned for being a morning person.
Finally, earlier this year, I got a second opinion from another GP at my surgery. She at least ran various blood tests (anaemia, diabetes and some other stuff I don't remember), all of which came back normal. She also asked me to fill out a questionnaire to determine whether or not I had depression and it was manifesting itself physically - which seemed like a dumbass thing to do imo, since ANYONE would show symptoms of depression if they're in constant pain and exhausted/nauseous all the time (my results weren't high enough to qualify as depression anyway). I left again, seriously starting to doubt myself and wondering if it was all in my head, if I was being lazy and playing the victim.
After more shake-ups at my surgery, I saw a third doctor in July this year. She read my history from the entire two years and said, simply, "It looks like you have post-viral fatigue syndrome." She explained that as there are no definitive tests for PVF, doctors are required to wait for the patient to have had the symptoms for at least six months before diagnosis (at this point, I had had symptoms for just under a year and a half) and that they have to run blood tests to rule out all other possibilities. She took more blood to run the final tests required (for Coeliac's disease, hepatitis, etc.) and said, finally, that if my results came back normal five days later, that she'd refer me to the PVF service at Frenchay Hospital nearby.
My blood came back normal. She referred me. Finally, I had a fucking diagnosis: post-viral fatigue syndrome, also known as chronic fatigue syndrome or ME. I also discovered that my first doctor, who had insisted on my pushing through this, actually exacerbated the illness and probably prolonged my recovery time, gj moron. I haven't had an appointment with a specialist yet - the waiting list is up to 18 weeks, sadly - but I am so hopeful. There's no cure for PVF: it just goes away with time, though no one can say how long it takes. But I can be given things to help to cope with it and, most importantly, be happy and hopeful because it's not just me imagining things. It's horrible to wake up and feel like your own your deathbed and have to tell yourself you're just being pathetic and lazy.
Though I missed out on a lot of university because of this, I still achieved a 2:1 overall. Sadly, I simply can't spend a year in France due to this condition and since I have no idea when it's going to back off, I can't wait. Moreover, my university closed its languages department last year, which means that next year would be my last chance to actually complete my degree. So, I've made the painful decision to drop French (thereby essentially wasting a lot of time and £4,500) and take English Language.
I know so far this has been a recap of whine; I'm annoyed at how I've been let down by the NHS and how my university education has panned out. But I'm getting on with it now and I'm actually looking forward to the start of term in September and I'm even waking up some mornings feeling like a normal person again! (I just can't get excited and push myself if I do as I'll knock myself out for weeks after.)
I had a lot more to say about life than just that, but ironically I need one of my famed naps. I'll try and post the rest soon, but don't get your hopes up given my track record of keeping those kind of promises... :p I just wanted to update y'all, it's been too long.
Btw, I keep non-whiney updates in my statuses on Facebook generally... Add me if you haven't already!
I should have been entering my fourth and final year studying French and Linguistics at university right about now; instead, I'm entering my third year of Linguistics and my first year of English Language (which is going to make for really awkward timetabling, I'm sure), with French nowhere in sight. I was forced to drop French, despite achieving Firsts in all coursework and at least 2:1s in all exams. This is because in order to complete my degree, I am supposed to have spent a year in a Francophone country, either at a university or doing a work placement, neither of which is an option for me right now because I'm so sick.
Since just after the last time I posted here a year and a half ago, I've been sick. It started with a bout of flu, I think, and in the months after that I suffered from more colds, chest infections, ear infections, TMI-so-I-won't-go-into-it infections, you name it. There wasn't a week where I didn't have something wrong with me, so it seemed my immune system was severely compromised. All the viruses and infections backed off when summer came, only to replaced by constant and disabling fatigue, musculoskeletal pain and nausea. I saw my GP several times about these symptoms: each time, she told me that it was due to the fact that my routine and exercise had suffered as a result of all those "unlucky" viruses and infections over winter and that I just needed to push myself in terms of physical activity to put it right.
I tried. I ninja'd my boyfriend's gym membership and tried to work out twice a week before my afternoon lectures. And when that was too much for my body to handle and I ended up sitting through lectures twice as dizzy, exhausted and nauseous as usual, I tried swimming in the evenings twice a week. This had much the same effect and I'd come home at 7pm and go to sleep without dinner. I'd wake up after up to 12 hours of sleep and feel as though I hadn't slept at all, every morning - and I used to be renowned for being a morning person.
Finally, earlier this year, I got a second opinion from another GP at my surgery. She at least ran various blood tests (anaemia, diabetes and some other stuff I don't remember), all of which came back normal. She also asked me to fill out a questionnaire to determine whether or not I had depression and it was manifesting itself physically - which seemed like a dumbass thing to do imo, since ANYONE would show symptoms of depression if they're in constant pain and exhausted/nauseous all the time (my results weren't high enough to qualify as depression anyway). I left again, seriously starting to doubt myself and wondering if it was all in my head, if I was being lazy and playing the victim.
After more shake-ups at my surgery, I saw a third doctor in July this year. She read my history from the entire two years and said, simply, "It looks like you have post-viral fatigue syndrome." She explained that as there are no definitive tests for PVF, doctors are required to wait for the patient to have had the symptoms for at least six months before diagnosis (at this point, I had had symptoms for just under a year and a half) and that they have to run blood tests to rule out all other possibilities. She took more blood to run the final tests required (for Coeliac's disease, hepatitis, etc.) and said, finally, that if my results came back normal five days later, that she'd refer me to the PVF service at Frenchay Hospital nearby.
My blood came back normal. She referred me. Finally, I had a fucking diagnosis: post-viral fatigue syndrome, also known as chronic fatigue syndrome or ME. I also discovered that my first doctor, who had insisted on my pushing through this, actually exacerbated the illness and probably prolonged my recovery time, gj moron. I haven't had an appointment with a specialist yet - the waiting list is up to 18 weeks, sadly - but I am so hopeful. There's no cure for PVF: it just goes away with time, though no one can say how long it takes. But I can be given things to help to cope with it and, most importantly, be happy and hopeful because it's not just me imagining things. It's horrible to wake up and feel like your own your deathbed and have to tell yourself you're just being pathetic and lazy.
Though I missed out on a lot of university because of this, I still achieved a 2:1 overall. Sadly, I simply can't spend a year in France due to this condition and since I have no idea when it's going to back off, I can't wait. Moreover, my university closed its languages department last year, which means that next year would be my last chance to actually complete my degree. So, I've made the painful decision to drop French (thereby essentially wasting a lot of time and £4,500) and take English Language.
I know so far this has been a recap of whine; I'm annoyed at how I've been let down by the NHS and how my university education has panned out. But I'm getting on with it now and I'm actually looking forward to the start of term in September and I'm even waking up some mornings feeling like a normal person again! (I just can't get excited and push myself if I do as I'll knock myself out for weeks after.)
I had a lot more to say about life than just that, but ironically I need one of my famed naps. I'll try and post the rest soon, but don't get your hopes up given my track record of keeping those kind of promises... :p I just wanted to update y'all, it's been too long.
Btw, I keep non-whiney updates in my statuses on Facebook generally... Add me if you haven't already!