As someone who suffered with chronic fatigue for nearly a decade, I know how downright devastating it is when you’ve started to recover, and all of a sudden fatigue barges in again uninvited, like a bunch of teenagers gate crashing a party with a six pack of Bacardi Breezers.
Sleep has become my number one fantasy and I lust for it like a porn addict does double d cleavage. I snatch sleep in my relentless schedule whenever I can, collapsing into bed, and caressing my sheets and pillow like I’m being reunited with a long lost lover. Oh Tontine, I do love thee so. Please let me stay here in your arms a little longer.
As a writer, it isn’t often that I’m lost for words. But today there are no words to convey the anger I feel for how the medical system has failed Theda Myint and her struggle with chronic fatigue syndrome.
After doing endless rounds of medical appointments, being poked, prodded and tested for every disease known to mankind, and forking out money you simply don’t have to swallow more tablets than Amy Winehouse on a bender, it’s inevitable that you may start to give up hope.
The cause of this mystery illness is still largely unknown and not adequately treated by most medical professionals. Treatment also varies from patient to patient – but one thing is common to all. Hope.
I can relate to Theda Myint’s struggle with Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (ME), or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome as it is known, because I used to have it. Oh, is that that illness where people pretend to be tired so they don’t have to work?
Is it just me or are you feeling like it’s a big push to the finish line right now too? I’m treating my to do list with complete contempt and I wish my week was over before it’s even started. Not for what I have to do, but just because I’m ready for a holiday now. Like right now. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been a great year, in fact, [...]