Talking about it.

I went back to work for a couple of days at the end of this week, and boyoboy is there a lot going on there.  Our workplace is being audited and inspected by an authoritative organization next week, and everyone is scrambling to get ready.  On top of that we are starting to work toward going paperless; that'll be a major project for the next 6 months.  And I'm dealing with an employee who is great in many ways (reliable, pleasant, professional), however she's not detail-oriented.  I'm working with her to see if her accuracy can be increased to acceptable levels, but I'm not counting on it.  I'll be spending most of my time the next couple of weeks double-checking all her work and providing corrections.  At least we'll be able to say that we tried if things don't work out.

The bottom line is that I'd better get well and do it quickly, because there are things to be done that cannot wait.

When I went back to work I took some time out with a couple of the other managers whom I work closely with to let them know about my health situation.  I figure the people who have to cover for me or suffer inconveniences during my absence have the right to know why I've been out of commission.  I also wanted to line up their sympathies in advance in case should I need more time off.  These managers are all women I've worked with for years, who know me well.  We have mutually trusting relationships, and they know that I'm not the type to slack off because of laziness.

Two of my co-workers were concerned and sympathetic.  Interestingly, it was the one woman who has her own chronic health issues who irritated me with her response.  She felt compelled to remind me that it's important to think positive and to push through feelings like "I can't do it" and just carry on.  I found this annoying, although I know she meant well, for several reasons:

1)  The last time I pushed through my fatigue because I was thinking positively, I ended up in the emergency room because I had overexerted myself.  The hard lesson that I have to learn is to not push myself, but to listen to my body.

2)  There is an implied accusation in there that I've been a Moping Molly and need to be told to pull up my socks, keep my chin up, and put on a happy face.  While I've been situationally grouchy because aches, pains, and fatigue tend to do that to a person, I have successfully not wallowed in self-pity or pessimism (this time).  I find it condescending that this woman should feel compelled to tell me how to think or what to feel, especially when I don't need that type of reminder.  I can remind myself, thanks very much.

3)  I find any statement that sounds even remotely like "It's all in your mind" to be offensive.  Just because I don't have a diagnosis for my recurring fatigue, fever, and tender/stiff joints doesn't mean that I made my symptoms up out of the clear blue sky, due to wrong thinking.  I used to be quite depressed for years on end, and at that time it seemed plausible that my symptoms were related to the depression.  However, in the past three years I have not had any prolonged feelings of depression.  Certain elements of my job do generate some appropriate anxiety, but there has been no correlation between my anxiety and my symptoms.  If that had been the case I would have been disabled last year when I was responsible for moving the entire company to a new location.  I got through that OK with nothing more than a 2-day-long head cold to show for it.

The New Age movement has gone too far, in my opinion, with the "you create your own reality"  business.  Yes, there is certainly some truth to that statement.  But we cannot control everything in our lives with our intentions, and that kind of thinking results in people blaming themselves for things that aren't within their control.  It's not my fault that I'm sick.  Whether it's caused by a virus, an auto-immune dysfunction, or by environmental sensitivities, it's not my fault.

I spent today searching up blogs written by people with CFS and fibromyalgia, just to feel less isolated and freakish.  I know I don't have either of those syndromes because I'm not as disabled as people who earn those official diagnoses, but it still helped.  I also read on one of the medical sites that for every person with full-blown CFS there are around 10 who have milder versions of the problem. There are a lot of us, although people tend not to talk about it.  Right now, I can't not talk about it.

I'm still achey and running a low fever.  I know that I'm not well yet when I get up first thing in the morning and put my feet on the floor.  If my feet feel sore when I stand up, that means the episode isn't over yet.  It's not over yet.