Last Friday, Colleen and I made another trip down to Baltimore for her regular appointment with her specialist. (The more you drive down to Baltimore, the faster it appears to go. The interesting thing about travelling to Maryland is that the hardest part going there and coming back is actually New Jersey. Delaware is so small that it barely registers on Google Maps, and you really don't drive too far into Maryland. When one comes home from Baltimore, you feel this sense of relief when you see the "Welcome to NJ sign". Then you realize that you are still nowhere close to home) Anyway, the trip was again worthwhile, as Colleen is again attempting a few things to try to get herself some relief from her condition. She has doubled her dosage of Mirtazapine, and will also be at least temporarily trying Xifaxan, which has recently been given approval by the FDA for IBS-like disorders. As I have said many times, we have no idea exactly what Colleen has - so a lot of this stuff is trial-and-error. While the marijuana pill didn't do much to help her, the Mirtazapine has helped with the mental side of her disease, which is definitely a good thing. The drug has released some of her sense of hopelessness and given her more energy to get back into some exercise routines. This shouldn't be considered a cure, because the problem is still there. But when you are chronically ill, the mental side needs to be treated just as aggressively as the physical side. To date, other than some extra tiredness, this particular drug has not shown the side effects that she experienced with other drugs indicated to help treat that side of the equation.
As always, Dr. Clarke (and his assistant) were very responsive to Colleen's needs and questions. If you can find a doctor with better bedside manner, I would love to meet him. Because Dr. Clarke is a a saint - the perfect combination of knowing what he is talking while keeping you at ease, and making you feel comfortable asking questions.
This whole experience over the past several years brings me back to an old adage you all have probably heard one million or so times in your lifetime. Repeat after me: "Everything. Happens. For. A. Reason". No matter what happens in your life, you will probably have at least one person tell you that - and you yourself have probably mentioned it a time or two as well. You spilled gravy on your best shirt? No problem, because everything happens for a reason. You have a peanut allergy? No worries - when you break out and can barely breathe, just remember that it is happening for a reason.
I sometimes would even think that when I got sick many years ago, that it happened for a reason - so I would understand better when my wife was to get sick only a few months after I was "cured". It is a good way to rationalize things, of course. A good way to make an excuse for why I got sick It had nothing to do with something going crazy inside my body - it was because it would make me understand when a loved one also got sick. Sure, it may have taught me perspective - and most definitely put me in a mode where any time I hear of an illness from friends, family, friends of friends, coworkers, etc...I can instantly find the compassion, the sadness, and everything else. But here is the thing about that: Would I not feel the same if I never got sick? If Colleen never got sick? Of course not. I may better UNDERSTAND what someone is going through on SOME level, but the feeling of empathy wouldn't be much different.
There are a few ways to look at this old adage. One way is by simply stating the obvious: Of course everything happens for SOME reason. If your computer breaks down, something caused it to happen. If your shower no longer has running water, there is likely a reason why. But it is not likely some spooky, unseen thing that causes it - a gremlin didn't come into your house and shut off your water to prevent a flood. He certainly didn't jump into your computer because he was sensing a fire hazard. Something simply FELL APART and needs to be fixed. The same is true when you become ill, whether it be the rather mundane common cold or something much more serious than that. A ghost certainly didn't cause it, and I doubt those with pitchforks have any real reason to attack you with something while not giving it to someone else. (Isn't that something? Not only does one have to deal with being sick - they have to deal with the possibility that an unknown spirit hates them so much that they made them sick!)
In the end, when you become chronically ill, or whatever malady you may face in this crazy world, just remember that what happened to you is not because you are hated - not because the world is against you - and certainly not because of anything you did wrong. It didn't happen for a "reason" that can likely be rationalized in any real way. In the case of Colleen, the medical reason could have been a "simple" bout of food poisoning gone terribly wrong, as her first and original illness felt like a stomach flu - a stomach flu that went into remission for three months before deciding to come back permanently. It may be connected to a bout of the shingles she experienced. It could be a wide variety of things - that may never be known.
But I can almost guarantee anything that it wasn't some part of a grand plan. You don't get sick for five years due to some great person's weird, diabolical plan to take away a large percentage of your life to make you come out of it better in some way. I can almost guarantee you that anyone who is sick would rather just live their lives than be taught a strange lesson through human torture.
No matter what your illness may be, or what the prognosis is, or the feeling of hopelessness you may or may not have - just remember that it doesn't speak to who you are as a person - doesn't speak to your soul - your illness doesn't define your past, your present, your future, or your legacy. You define that yourself - you define that through your heart, your soul, your brain, and how you treat others.
And when someone perfectly healthy tells you it is all happening for a reason? Just smile, and actually show compassion - for they seriously have no idea what it is you are going through. And hopefully they never will.
