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Pieces of a Puzzle- "Oh no, not again!" Sherry, my friend, shrieked on that memorable evening in July, 2002. "Remember what happened last year? Your skin graft? You need to see a wound care doctor. What are you waiting for?" She asked when she heard that I had another gash on my shin. The truth was I felt embarrassed about all my bruises. With encouragement, I went to see Dr. Brian Buinewicz. He treated the wound and I told him the saga I had told so many other doctors about my injuries, the easy bruising, the paper thin skin, the long time it took for cuts to heal, and that I was not diabetic. He looked at me, especially my face and asked, "Have you been taking steroids? Noticed any changes in your body shape? Gained weight recently?" answered , "Well, yes, my body has changed, I have gained weight even though I'm exercising and eat moderately. I just thought it was due to my age (57) and my genetic destiny. I'm beginning to look like my mother." He suggested I should be tested for Cushing's. I called my former family doctor and explained why I wanted to be tested for Cushing's. He told me he didn't think I had Cushing's, but he would order the tests. To his credit, he then added, "I've been stupid before." I responded, "I would be stupid not to be tested!". The tests proved positive and I had my adrenal gland removed in October, 2002.
It was that visit to Dr. Buinewicz's office that helped me make sense of all the ailments, and the sense that I was growing old long before I wanted. That was the final piece of the puzzle. I had led a very active life, was a working mother, had a very demanding teaching job (but then, what teaching job isn't demanding?), ran two miles every morning before work, and was involved in several community activities. I never seemed to run out of energy, that is until about seven years ago. During that time I was diagnosed with high blood pressure (by my students during a blood pressure training class!), elevated cholesterol, fell often, broke ribs, and had droopy eyelids. And there was the dishwasher gash that required a skin graft but still wouldn't heal, and severe back pain for which surgery was recommended. I sensed there was something else wrong with me although I didn't know what it was. I retired in February, 2002, I wanted to find out what was wrong with me: Why I couldn't sleep, couldn't concentrate. Why sometimes I'd see blood on my arm and had no idea how it happened. I had extra nervous energy but was easily fatigued. I continued to gain weight, yet my legs lost tone and withered. I continued with physical therapy and seeing a nutritionist, hoping I would get better.
Then that summer evening in July, 2002 I bumped the dishwasher again. I sat down and cried. I felt like I was crumbling. My husband and I had been having an argument and he stopped suddenly and put his arms around me. I don't think he had ever seen me like that. Before I sat down to write this article, I asked him what I was like before I was diagnosed. "You seemed to be fighting yourself," he began, "You wouldn't acknowledge that anything was wrong with you. And I could see how hard it was for you. And the worst was, I couldn't talk to you about it. You'd get angry." It's two years later. I am so thankful that I am getting better. In March of 2003, I had a spinal fusion. It was successful and I'm able to walk long distances. I still take 5 mg of cortef and now I'm on synthroid. I lost 30 pounds. I worked two days a week at my former school last year. We moved to a smaller house. The best part of my recovery though has been my relationship with my husband. I've learned I can lean on him and his strong arms will be there for me. I am glad to give up my role as 'superwoman' and just be me.
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