A Crisis of Faith

I try so hard to believe that things will get better.  I want to believe that the Meniere’s will become manageable, that I will start having normal digestion again, that I can have a life again.

A friend of mine sent me a note on Facebook that said I was her hero, because I’ve been through so much in the past couple of years and still I can be optimistic about the future.  Well not today.

Today, I’m not optimistic at all.  Today, I can’t see past the pain and horror that my life has become.  I read on Facebook all the fun things that my friends are doing, and I’m a prisoner in my own home.

I continue to have horrible Meniere’s attacks.  It just hurts too much.  Not just the attacks, but the unknowing.  Is it going to happen today.  Is this weird feeling I’m having the beginnings of an attack.  I can’t drive any more.  I can’t even take care of my house.  Some days I can’t even get out of bed by myself.

Then there’s the digestion problems.  Today was horrible.  I ate dinner, my stomach hurt a lot.  I went to bathroom and nothing really happened, then I was standing at my kitchen sink and I lost control of my bowels.  Yes, just standing there and Wam! I had poop running down my leg!  (I can’t believe I’m actually telling anyone this.)  I went upstairs, sat in the bathroom for a very long time, then took a shower and put my clothes in the washer.  But during that time I had a complete melt down, and I don’t think it’s over.

I’m really tired of living like this.  I’m ready to just, I don’t want to say die, but that’s really what it comes down to.  I feel like I’m fighting a loosing battle.  The doctors at Duke tell me there is so much they can do for the Meniere’s…so when are they going to do it?  I know I just had the blood patches on November 24th, but since December 4th my life has been a living hell.

The digestive health doctors have no idea what is going on, and the last two tests I was scheduled for I had to cancel because the Meniere’s had control of my life.  I have a scope planned for Wednesday, where they put a scope down your throat and have a look-see.  Now if the Meniere’s will let me go through with this test, maybe they will find some answer.  I have a feeling they are just going to tell me I have IBS.  Something else that has no cure, that I will be stuck with for the rest of my life.

I want to have faith, and most of the time I do.  I’m not religious like a lot of people, but I have my own beliefs.  But that’s not the kind of faith I’m talking about.  I simply feel so out of control.

All my life when things happened to me, I always knew that I could fight back and over come.  But now I don’t have that.  I feel like I’m fighting so hard, but I don’t have the right ammunition.

Even now I want to say, don’t worry, I’ll be fine, I’ll get through this too.  I don’t want pity, and I feel like I see that in so many people’s eyes.

I can accept a lot of strife in my life.  Loosing my hearing, I could deal with.  Walking with a limp and living in pain, I could deal with.  Not having control of my bowels, I can’t life with.  Never knowing when the vertigo will hit, I can’t live with.  (I used to have signals, but now the vertigo will come on so fast.)  I can’t deal with feeling so out of control.

On top of everything, my dear sweet dog has bladder cancer.  In July they gave her 6 months to a year.  She’s still doing very well.  Right now she has a staff infection, the vet says that isn’t unusual for dogs with bladder problems, but I’m afraid it’s the first of her going down hill.  I’ve had my Sandy for over 16 years, I don’t know what I will do without her.

But tomorrow is another day.  I’m sure things will look better after a good night’s sleep, and I will once again have my optimism back.  I’m just so tired.


5 thoughts on “A Crisis of Faith

  1. Lisa Tomey

    I love you Wendy and keep you in my positive thoughts that answers will come. I wonder if they checked your colon for diverticular disease. I had bowel control issues before the surgery and now it is so much better. IBS is a problem but usually when I eat food outside of the home. I wish I could just pack up and stay with you and help you and Stuart. In my mind my arms are hugging you gently and taking away the pain and misery. Be assured that you are always in my prayers. Super HUGS to you, Stuart and Sandy.


    1. Thank you Lisa, I love you too. I had a colonoscopy a few months ago, everything was fine. They are thinking one of 3 things. An ulcer, Fructose Intolerance, or IBS. Thank you for all of your concern and support. I miss you. wendy


  2. Teresa

    I’m so sorry you’re having a hard time. I promise you’ll feel differently eventually. I’m thinking of you and sending healing thoughts, to you and your dear doggy. I’m dealing with mine living out his last days. He’ll be 14 on Jan 12 if he makes it. He’s a Samoyed/Sheepdog, and has been one of the best friends I’ve ever had, so I understand how you’re feeling about that part of the situation. Tending to him and the lack of exercise and sleep is causing the fibro to rear it’s head, but I know I’m nowhere near in your realm of distress.
    Thinking of you, T.


    1. Thank you Teresa. I really does help to know people are pulling for me. I’m so sorry about your doggy. My Sandy is amazing. She still runs around, jumps on the furniture, chases the cat… She is just so wonderful. I know she’s sick, but she doesn’t seem to know it. Still, I worry. I also understand the lack of exercise, I seem to sleep a lot, but never feel rested. (I think it’s because I’m hurting while I’m sleeping so I don’t sleep deep enough.) We’ll get through this. It’s much easier for me when I have friends like you rooting for me. thank you again, w


  3. Hi Wendy
    I am so sorry to hear that you are still struggling so much. Last summer I too was at an all time low. Every morning I would wake up still dizzy. I would dream, when I could actually sleep, of being dizzy. I actually had a dream one night that everything was upside down to me. I was so horrified in the dream, then I woke up and the real world wasn’t much different. I told my husband that I didn’t want to live anymore. Up until that point he thought I was handling everything so well, that I was strong, always hanging on to my Susie Sunshine approach. But then he knew this was serious. Its interesting how I think that was the TSN (sorry, I’m Canadian, I guess that would be the ESPN) turning point. I finally admitted that I couldn’t do it alone. That my own strength wasn’t enough. I needed more.
    We all need different treatments for our Meniere’s as we all likely have different reasons for our symptoms. Hang onto that hope. Nicki is having some success with the gent injections, I am having success with the Meniett Device. I think David S is having some success with the different meds he is on and the gent injections. I actually have a neighbour who had a full labrinthectomy and she is so much better than she was. She can even drive again!
    So please have hope. Change is coming. You are never given anything that you cannot handle, so clearly, you can handle this. This too shall pass. I wish I could think of something more inspirational but, I know this will pass for you. I know religion isn’t your thing, but I will pray for you everyday and I will have others pray for you too. Have strength, have courage, have peace, have hope.
    It’s the time of year for miracles!


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