My mother asked me the other day when I’ll get better, if it is CFS, and what can the doctors do?
I don’t know, I said. They can’t do much. I guess I just have to be careful.
Which is the truth as far as I’m concerned. There are some therapies, if it’s that, but I won’t be put on any more flipping drugs. I’m sorry. I can live with pain if I know what’s causing it. I can find workarounds for the sleepiness, and there are always assistive devices to let me navigate the world without spending stamina. What I absolutely will not do is become hooked on opiates or go crazy on Cymbalta or something equally pleasant. I do not want a repeat of the Remeron debacle. No stimulants and nothing that will kill my appetite completely. Nothing nausea-inducing. Actually, it might help if we looked into drugs that would make me hungry. Those I would consent to try.
I’m not exactly straight-edge like my friend Mana, but when it comes to whatever this is, I just can’t face the prospect of one more pill.