"I hate this fucking disease."
I hate the fucking pain that's associated with it.
My husband was trying to say good bye to me before he left for work. Lately, he gets a bit frisky to make me think of him during the day (I do that anyway, I don't need the friskiness, although it is nice). So, this morning, he pushed down a little too hard on my belly. I saw stars. He quickly got up and practically ran out the door with barely an "I love you".
I fucking hate it. No one deserves this. He doesn't deserve it. My kids deserve a mommy that's not sick.
Even on medicine, I still get sick. True, the flares are longer in between, but they still come. Then, this feeling comes on again.
I'm not doing a pity me sch peal. I'm just venting. One needs to do that. And I apologize for the strong language.
I first got sick at age 17. I'm 33 now. I've had two hospitalizations. I've had two blood transfusions. The first transfusion later almost made me lose my pregnancy with my son because of some really rare antigen in it. I miss out on so much because I get too sick to partake in anything. I will have this for the rest of my life. There is no cure; only maintenance. Fucking great.
And, now to be shunned by my husband.
I fucking hate this disease.