Just at the time that I had one of those awful birthdays that ends with a zero, I was diagnosed with this weird auto-immune disease called Sjogrens Syndrome (pronounced show-grins). It was kind of depressing being old and having a syndrome in the same week.
Sjogren's is this bizarre thing wherein my immune system has decided that my very own body is the enemy, in particular moisture-producing glands. So with fervor, I am attacking myself. I've done that verbally for years but I guess my body decided that it wanted to get into the act too.
The first symptom and one that caused me to go to the doctors was that I had a mouth that was as dry as the prairie on a windswept day. At first it felt like I was thirsty but drinking water didn't help. A few minutes after finishing a 50-liter bottle (well, maybe 1 liter) I would feel as if my mouth was dry again.
I of course googled "dry mouth" and found a description of Sjogren's Syndrome . When I went to see my PCP (primary care physician) I told him I was pretty sure I had Sjogren's. Since I have previously told him I thought I had ebola, hanta virus, and bird flu, he laughed at me. Ha! I showed him. When he sent me to an ear, nose, and throat guy ($200 for about 8 minutes with me) he suggested that I might have...guess what?...Sjogren's Syndrome. Hell, I could have saved my insurance company a lot of money.
Well, of course, one specialist's diagnosis isn't enough. The ENT guy sent me to the rheumatologist guy. It turns out that Sjogren's is frequently associated with arthur-itis, a disease that has plagued my poor little fingers and hands for a couple of years. Guess what the rhematologist told me? I have Sjogren's! The nurse removed 7 or 8 liters of blood from my arm (okay, so I'm a bit prone to exaggeration!), I peed in a cup and I'm waiting for a final diagnosis.
I have lots of the symtoms though: Raynaud's Disease (my fingers and toes turn as white as fine-quality bond paper when they get cold), the aforementioned arthritis in my hands, dry mouth, and dry eyes.
Of course, I had to go to the eye doctor because of the dry eyes. I feel like I have sand in my eyes most of the time. It's fun. I pretend I'm at the beach when I'm driving and can't see oncoming traffic.
Okay, so the upshot of all this doctor-visiting, blood-letting, pee producing stuff is that I can't spit or cry. That's major. I never actually did spit in my pre-Sjogren's life but I always knew I could and that made me sleep better at night. My sons even taught me to spit properly when they were teenagers. Now I couldn't spit if my life depended on it. Oh, the trauma of it all!
The crying thing is really bad. My oldest son was quite delighted when I told him I couldn't cry. "Ma, that's always been overrated anyway." He and his brother hate it when I cry. They are boys (oops, men) and crying throws them completely off balance. I like to cry. I cry at ads on TV, whenever I watch Steel Magnolias, and whenever I think of the kids as little boys (they are massive men of 37 and 34 now). I am very sentimental (one son called it mushy but I disagree). It's terrible not being able to cry. Now I whimper, and I have to tell you, whimpering is not cathartic and it annoys the cats.
I am returning to see my PCP next week and I am so excited about telling him that I WAS RIGHT! In fact, I should demand a refund for my last visit there since I diagnosed my own self. I wonder if he'll re-check me for the ebola and bird flu. I've been having these weird symptoms. Oh no, maybe it's botulism from that bad spinach that's out there. I don't remember eating spinach lately but it's probably a hidden ingredient in chocolate or something.
I tell you, a girl just has to be very aware of her own symptoms these days. And God knows, I am, I am...
rate
email
print
link to this page
Comments: 29
I wish the very best for you. I also don't want to allarm you but there is a genetic predisposition for autoimmune responses. Keep a close eye on those boys (OOPs man children) of yours.
Never mind a refund! You need a degree! You know way more about this stuff than any old doctor.
Honey, your humor is amazing in this piece..... sorry your luck is not with this one, but your funny bone is intact and overactive.
Fav line? "Of course, I had to go to the eye doctor because of the dry eyes. I feel like I have sand in my eyes most of the time. It's fun. I pretend I'm at the beach when I'm driving and can't see oncoming traffic. "
Oh, Girl, you are good hope you can beat these symptoms,
I'm being tested tomorrow for my very own autoimmune disorder (can't let my son steal the show, now!), and I anticipate the dr. will be mentally rolling her eyes at me, too (esecially after my, "I think I have an ulcer" self-diagnosis that didn't quite pan out). I, unfortunately, have no sense of humor about the whole situation. Yet.
Your sense of humor made it so much easier to keep reading and learning, but I always have that post-reaction of "Why do these things happen to such lovable people??" (sigh)
I've noticed "sandy eyes" just recently, and now you have me thinking I ought to ask my doctor about them. Hm.
Your sense of humor will keep you sane and strong for the challenges -- giving in to fear and worry never helps -- so if there is a way to beat this, I'm betting on you!
Jackie - at least you two can't blame your AI stuff one me ... unless I am just not diagnosed yet! ;^)