Mother

You called me yesterday afternoon. In a few minutes you could tell something was wrong. After badgering me about it, I told you I was in pain. The annoyance in your voice was clear. You told me about your problems. Everyone has issues you reminded me.

I struggled the rest of the day. I wanted to head to the ER but I didn’t have the money. I also didn’t know what to do and wanted suggestions on making me feel better. I called you. That was a big mistake. When I told you I was still in pain you said, "not again". "I’m tired of all your health problems". "Enough is enough!!" you yelled at me. You accused me of wanting attention. You told me the hospital would write in my file that I was crazy. "The pain is in your head Monica".

I hung up the phone with you. I will never call you again. I will never speak to you about anything important again. No matter how many times you ask. No matter how many times you pressure me into admitting something is wrong. If I tell you what’s going on in my life, I’m complaining. If I tell you everything is fine, you say I’m lying.

I realize you don’t understand what it feels like to have the health issues that I do. You have been blessed with good health. You go to the doctor a couple times of year. You take only one medication. Since I was 2 years old I’ve been in the hospital. I have severe asthma, allergies, a blood clotting disorder, and connective tissue disease. I take 12 medications a day. I would give anything to be a healthy normal person like you. If you were me for one day, you wouldn’t survive the entire 24 hours.

I don’t trust you anymore. I don’t even love you right now. I’m tired of being a burden to you. I realize I’m not what you wanted or expected of a daughter. I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment.

Tu hija,
Monica

July 13, 2007

This is probably one of the most difficult blog posts I will ever have to write.

On July 13, 2007 I woke up excited. Mi esposo and I were going to a Def Leppard concert with two of our close friends. I had always wanted to see them in concert. I'm a HUGE fan of 80's hair bands. That morning I woke up and got out of bed. I fell on the floor when I tried to stand. I got up and tried to take a step and fell again. Strange. My legs felt like jelly. I called to mi hija and mi esposo. We all thought is was funny and that I would be fine shortly.

I wasn't fine. After a few minutes we all knew something was terribly wrong. I had lost the ability to walk over night. Mi esposo rushed me to the ER. The staff ran several tests and discovered my CED rate was almost 200 (that's really bad, it's supposed to be around 20). All my blood work was off. I was admitted, given all sorts of medical exams and more testing. After a week I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder called Undefined Connective Tissue Disease, UCTD.

UCTD happens when your immune system attacks your connective tissue. In my case it attacked the muscles in my legs. I suffered severe atrophy of those muscles and had to take lots of Prednisone (a steroid), pain medications, and Plaquenil (to calm my immune system).

This is a disease that cannot be cured. In my case it was brought on by extreme stress. I'll briefly explain what was going on during the middle of my 2006-2007 school year.

In January of 2007 I was verbally and physically assaulted by someone I work with on a regular basis. He accused me of something I did NOT do and hurt me at work. I told my principal at the time, who has since been fired for misappropriation of school funds, and she took a full report. Nothing was done. It was my word against his best friend, the woman he was sleeping with and of course his version.

I was told by the administration not to go to the police or I would lose my job. I am the only health insurance carrier for my family. I had no choice. I needed my job, so I 'sucked' it up and continued to work with this person. It was a nightmare. I was always waiting for something else to happen (I still am). I had to talk mi padre and mi esposo down on a weekly basis from taking any sort of action against him.

Fast forward to the present. I still have UCTD. It affects every part of my body and was partially to blame for the cardiac event I suffered on Tuesday. I have to use crutches on a semi-regular basis and take 8 pills a day to keep me going. I have a permanent handicapped placard on my rear view mirror. I'm still here though. I'm still trying to smile and be my old self.

Taking one hour at a time,
Monica