Age is a Number

As time passes I realize there were valid reasons for everything they tried to teach me in school. It was not to torture me with a string of boring stuff I would never use. It was to help me make educated choices in life.

Speeding Past Fifty

Math was to have taught me basic survival; exchange of goods cannot happen without an understanding of math concepts. Indeed age is a number and I found that the negative consequences of being labeled according to one's age.

English without communication how could I convey my feelings, make request or compose this blog.

Science ah my downfall…I figured as long as I knew my body parts and where on my person they were located then why bother with all the other stuff.

Perhaps if I had more enthusiasm for science while in school than I would have started my research regarding my health issues three years ago.  Instead my research was limited to disproving what I was told since I lacked knowledge of where to begin. For two years I floundered about helplessly after being told by one doctor there was nothing wrong that was not typical for a woman of my age (yes it was a male) another doctor said these things happen as we age (a female) gave me antidepressants not because she thought I was necessary depressed but because they could possibly make me feel better. Next, when those did not work she put me on hormones. Wow! Talk about mood swings, my sanity and marriage could not survive at this rate - taking those only lasted four days! After the hormone catastrophe I somewhat put everything in a mental box marked later; what can I say I was tired mentally physically and spiritually and decidedly beaten.

Every morning I would struggle through the haze of sleep filled eyes to get dressed and drive to work. Once there everything was completed as if I was a robot on auto-pilot. I would drown myself in coffee and sugar filled junk food in an attempt to stay awake even if staying focused was out of the question. Quitting time meant I drove home and collapsed on the bed for a nap before getting supper on the table. It was a vicious never-ending circle.

There was a brief reprieve in 2012 from the middle of April to the end of May while I recovered from an arthroscopic procedure on my right knee. Recovery took longer than average which I suppose was due to my fatigue and deteriorating immune system.  I did return to work somewhat refreshed but due to the car accident it was short lived and by that time the psoriasis had started to develop on my right hand.

It was not until November that I found my current doctor. She is the one that looked beyond my age and circumstances and actually tested for relevant problems and found both my vitamin deficiencies and cardiovascular isssues. Eventually she diagnosed the rash on my hand as puscular palmar psoriasis. I feel fortunate that she has worked with me to find ways to manage the psoriasis without resorting to prescription drugs.

Since discovering that the downward spiral was not an easy fix, the natural born researcher and the reluctant scientist within me have merged to uncover fascinating details that I pray will restore my health.  I am currently compiling notes from my research including what seems to be working for my psoriasis.