Tales from the Girl Crying in the Bathroom

Arthritis is a funny thing.  Some days, it's actually a blessing. Others, you feel suffocated. Like you're buried... In over your head...

At the appointment with my rheumatologist last week, we discussed my seemingly "normal" MRI results and decided to forward it on to a pediatric neurosurgeon. My doctor said it was highly unlikely that anything would be found, however - I received just the opposite of nothing... I finally received answers.

Monday was a day from... Uh... Let's just go ahead and say... The gutter. I had a job interview, babysitting, an eye doctor appointment, and then a coffee date. Not too shabby, so I thought.

The roller-coaster began after I got home from my interview. My mom told me that she talked to the neurosurgeon who has officially diagnosed me with moderate degenerative disc disease on top of juvenile arthritis. *Cue the pre-break down here.*

The job interview went well, the little boy I pick up afterschool had a fabulous day, I got a few sweet surprises in the mail, and my eye doctor appointment was quick and easy. After a busy night, I was reunited with one of my good friends when we met up for a coffee date. 

So, it's all okay, right? Funny how things change so quickly...

We hardly sat down and started talking when my nightly nausea kicked in full swing... And I mean hardcore swing.

I ran to the bathroom on two different occasions. And, without sharing too much unnecessary info, it was disgusting. It was puke. And it was pure acid every time. EVERY TIME. I was shaking like a leaf, so I decided I needed to leave early. My bed, a bucket, and a cold washcloth were calling my name...

The night continued like that and I woke up Tuesday morning in so much excruciating pain because my stomach was completely empty. There was nothing left. I slept in, showered, attempted to eat, and headed off to class.

If there's one thing that's stressing me out right now, it's school. The people. The exams. The homework. I'm good at handling stress... I'm good at staying motivated. But, I'm also human. And there are days when my body simply cannot pretend it's all okay anymore.

To put it simply, I was a hot, HOT mess on Tuesday. I ran out of my English class bawling. I stood inside a bathroom stall bawling for 10 minutes. I didn't finish my homework. I stayed after class and had a heart to heart with my teacher... Complete with LOTS more tears... 

But, I finally feel better. It felt so good to get it all out.

And even though I'm in the same predicament as I was on Monday and Tuesday night... I'm experiencing and I'm learning... I'm toughing it out. I'm holding on. I'm fighting.

I'm not saying I won't be the girl crying in the bathroom stall ever again. 

I'm saying that God is still bigger... And I'm saying that I refuse to be reduced and/or defined by these debilitating diseases.