Shattered Dreams [EDITING] - Chapter 62: Chapter 62

NADIA'S POV:
When I hear the doctor say this I am filled with a familiar feeling of anxiety. The anxiety is way more heightened than usual and it reminds me of when I have just finished a skating routine in a competition and I'm sitting in the kiss and cry, awaiting my piece results.
When you're in a kiss and cry, your body is full of adrenaline but you also are nervous as to what's to come. Although, my anxieties are always short lived because I know I performed almost perfectly and I would always get first place. In this appointment it feels different, as I don't know what direction it will go in. Will I get the diagnosis that I am begging for just like I used to beg for first place, or will I not even qualify?
"Do you?" I ask Doctor Soya nervously, not knowing what it could possibly be.
I have a bad feeling about what he is about to tell me as he didn't argue about my parents not being here and he doesn't look like he has anything positive to say. He has all my blood test results, which means whatever is on there has led him to figure out what is wrong with me. I know that I have been tested for cancer but what if there is something there that the doctors have missed, as it is not completely unheard of for them to do that. As much as I hate to admit it to myself but having cancer would explain why I have been feeling so exhausted for no reason and in the amount of pain I am in, I just wonder why it has taken them so long to find it.
Am I about to be given the worst news of my life?
"What do you think is wrong with you Nadia?" Doctor Soya asks me and it's like he knows that I am having an internal war with myself about this possible diagnosis I've managed to convince myself I have. He lets me ponder through my thoughts for a few moments and he puts me out of my internal misery when he finally continues speaking. "I can assure you that it's not what you're thinking."
"Oh, thank god." I release a breath and I feel momentarily relieved but then I remember that if it is not that, then what could it possibly be?
"Yeah, the doctors would've picked up on that a while ago but I understand that you would've had your doubts." He tells me and I nod in agreement. I'm glad he at least understands that I have no faith in the healthcare system. I'm thankful that he is being slow with me as he knows that this type of thing is bringing up a lot of trauma for me but I really do wish he would hurry up and tell me what is wrong with me, I am quite literally on the edge of my seat.
"So, what is it? Please can you tell me?" I practically beg him.
"I want to diagnose you with something called Myalgic encephalomyelitis," He informs me and I stare at him blankly, causing him to let out a little chuckle. "There is another condition that is very similar called fibromyalgia, which is more well known but with the way you explain your fatigue I think ME is the right diagnosis for you."
"That sounds terrifying." I reply, my heartrate picking up again and I remember the time Corey spoke to me about knowing someone with fibromyalgia so maybe he will be able to get me in contact with them so they can give me some tips on what to do to help as it is a similar illness to mine.
"It's also known as chronic fatigue syndrome," He adds and this name makes more sense. "We don't like to call it this anymore though because the condition is a lot more than fatigue, which is where people misunderstand the illness the most."
Hearing him say the word 'illness' makes me feel at ease, it makes me feel that all these months of having people not believe me is now finally worth it. What I am feeling is now being recognised.
"Why do people misunderstand it?" I ask, curious as to what I have in store for me.
"Because as you know, it can't be seen and the average person doesn't believe it's a real illness, much like most of your doctors don't," He begins to explain and it all unfolds in my head more and more and I begin to understand on why this has been such a fight. "I have a daughter with the same illness so I have been trying my hardest to understand it and vouch for the people with the same thing, who keep getting fobbed off by the healthcare system."
"How long has your daughter had it?" I ask, baffled to know that there are other people like me. I am shocked that I have an actual illness, even though I knew I had something wrong with me, to be diagnosed with something after months of being told that I'm imagining it is like a reward.
I was right.
Fuck everyone who said it was all in my head. Fuck everyone who was saying I was being dramatic and most of all fuck everyone who didn't believe me.
"Since she was twelve," He says in a monotone voice and then continues hesitantly. "She is now twenty-seven."
"She's had it that long?" I gasp, scared about whether this will be something I am stuck with for as long as that.
"Ah, yes, let's get back to talking about your diagnosis shall we?" He offers and I nod in agreement because my previous settled down anxiety is now begining to rise again at the information of his daughter. I have handled being like this so long and I have fought so hard to get to be able to sit in front of a doctor believes me but I don't think I will be able to handle suffering for any longer. Yes I came here for a diagnosis but my main hope was to get a way out of this nightmare.
I need it all to end. If I have to carry on like this for much longer I think I may end up dead.
I've always been scared of the idea of death, the idea that there is a constant oblivion after we die but it sounds like eternal peace from the life I'm living, an escape from my hell hole of a reality. I am asleep for most of my existing life now, I may as well sleep for eternity, I will feel a whole lot better than I do now for it.
"How long will I..be like this?" I hesitate on my words and his expression turns sympathetic, as he nows all about what I am going through because of his daughter.
"I can't answer that one because it's different for everyone, just like everything else," He begins, writing notes down as he goes and I hope he will give them to me after because I won't remember shit about what he's just told me. "We have a thing with this illness where if you have had it for five years or more than there is a high chance you won't ever recover."
My eyes widen at the thought of being like this my whole life, I can't imagine the intense suffereing that will bring me because if I think going through this for a few months is awful, then being bed ridden for years must be hell on earth. I have no idea how many people suffer from this around the world but I hope it's not too many as I can't let myself think about how many people are like this.
"Five years?" I ask, shocked, wanting him to explain further.
"Yes but that doesn't mean you won't recover there are resources out there that can help you; such as therapies, physio, pacing- although it's not recommended anymore. The main thing you need to listen to though is your own body. It will tell you when it's had enough and you shouldn't push that," I nod along to what doctor Soya is saying as I take it all in. "I must tell you though, even if you do recover from this, most patients don't recover fully enough to go back to their pre-disease level of health or functioning."
"So, essentially I will always be like this?" I ask, picking at my fingernails as I await to hear my fate.
"I can't answer that for you as I have no idea but you must never lose hope because that is the one thing you have to rely on with this disease." He infroms me and I sigh because all my hope went out of the window weeks ago.
"What test gave it away that I had this? Why wasn't it picked up sooner?" I ask him, wanting to know how he has come to the conclusion of this when no other doctor could.
"Like I said earlier, it is very misunderstood by most doctors so they wouldn't of thought of it as most of them haven't even heard of the illness," He answers my second question first before continuing. "And as for the testing, there is no specific test that will tell you if you have this or not, it is more of a ruling out process. Blood tests, MRIs and things like that will show us that there is nothing peculiar going on that we are missing and so if your symptoms line up with this then we will diagnose you with this, which is what I have done with you."
"So, it's not a real illness?" I ask as my mind wanders over the idea. If there is no test that can tell if you have it and it is just a case of ruling evey other illness out then is it just something doctors will diagnose people so they can stop going crazy in their own head and have something to say that they are ill when in reality the doctors don't believe we are ill at all?
"It very much is a real disease, Nadia, I've seen first hand how it efects someone," He tells me, sounding stern. "I am not here to lie to you, I am not here to give you a diagnosis because it's what you want, I am here to help you get the help and resources you need because the world is against people like you."
"People like me?" I question, not really understanding his point here.
"People with a chronic illness."
Hearing him tell me I have a chronic illness for the first time fills me with some sense of dread, which feels stranger then any feeling of dread I have had since waking up with tonsillitis that one morning. I got the diagnosis, I got the answer I wanted so I should be happy, I should be thanking him for finally figuring out the issue, but to know it is chronic makes it seem even more real. I am happy with the outcome of getting a diagnosis but it's not what I wanted to hear. I wanted to be able to get better, I wanted to be able to be the figure skater I've dreamed of being since I was a little girl in front of the television, I wanted to be able to live.
Receiving this chronic illness digagnosis feels like it's a death sentence. It's not terminal so I know I'm not actually going to die physically, but mentally I know this will kill me. The word 'chronic' hangs over my head like a stormy cloud as Doctor Soya explains what a chronic illness is to me and all I am hearing is that I will have to wake up with this thing wrong with me everyday for the rest of my life.
I've been begging for the suffering to end for weeks, little did I know that it was just the beginning of it all.
I seriously don't know what hurts more, having this diagnosis happen, or thinking about all that won't happen because of it. I have a diagnosis yes, but I lost a piece of myself with getting it. I thought it would make me feel better by having an answer but being given an answer that says there is a high likelihood you will never get better isn't a relief at all.
"Why me?" I choke out, the emotions in me finally seeping through the cracks.
"There is no answer to that, other than you had a infection and your body had a harder time dealing with it than it would to another person," He tells me sympathetically, getting a box of tissues out of his drawer and placing it in front of me, an action I assume he is used to doing in this room. "I know it's a lot to take in, Nadia but I will speak to your parents and we will arrange for you to get the support you need."
"Thank you." I force out, not really being able to say the words. I quickly get my phone out and send Corey a text, explaining in short detail what I've just been told and tell him how shit I'm feeling about it. I should be wanting to run out to my family but Corey is the one person I wanted to tell first, for some reason I feel as though he will understand it a bit better than them.
Doctor Soya gets up and opens the door, revealing my parents and brother sat in the waiting room staring at the door with anxiety ridden faces. They perk up when the door opens and they take one look at the expression on my face before rushing in to comfort me.
"What did he say?"
"Are you okay?"
"Tell me everything."
Multiple voices speak over eachother and they all blend into one the more they keep asking me questions. I tune them all out as Doctor Soya goes over everything with them as it is not something I want to hear again so soon, and I feel them tighten their grips on my shoulders the more he explains it.
I don't want to hear anymore, I don't want to have to watch the three people closest to me weep at my misery as the doctor tells them my new life sentence. I stand up, ignoring the calling out of my name and leave the room, not caring if they are following behind me or not.
I put my airpods back in my ears, silencing the world around me and I sit back in the car, waiting for them to take me home.
Willem comes rushing out without my parents, so they are still inside speaking to doctor Soya, and he sits next to me, not saying a word. He just puts his hand in mine across the middle seat and we sit there as we both cry silently at my fate.
My parents come into view, both of them dabbing at their eyes in an attempt to hide their emotions and they sit in the car, driving us home without saying anything.
I think everyone is too scared to speak.
I think that my parents and brother are taking this harder than I am. I have been feeling like this for so long, knowing it was real so I have had to come to terms with it. They didn't know, they just had to go with what I was telling them, so I think now that I have had an official diagnosis they feel like they have been punched in the face. I knew that they doubted me and they just kept taking me to appointments to keep me happy so they are feeling guilty and emotional. They are emotional because they have lost their little girl to an illness.
I imagine it's every parents worse fear to have a sick child, who is stuck in an abundance of pain and they can do nothing but watch along as it's happening.
I let go of Willem's hand to get my phone out to see if Corey has replied and Willem looks in my direction and I ignore it, not wanting to see the look on his face because I let go of his hand.
I look at my phone and see that Corey replied almost immediately after I texted him, almost like he was waiting on my text message.
COREY: Don't give up, your story isn't over yet. The stars still shine for you. 224.
In my message when I told him everything I said to him about how much I can't cope with this happening to me, how much I can't cope with being like this for the rest of my life so to see his reply made me smile. It made me feel like maybe this isn't the end of the road for me.
I smile at how much he believes in me and head back inside. I head straight to the stairs and ignore everyone else in the house.
"Nadia." Someone shouts up after me but I push the voice aside and go straight to my room so I can think back to the events of that appointment.
I have about five years until I know if this will be with me for the rest of my life or not. Until then, I need to find a way to co-exist with the pain. I can't let it consume me, I need to be stronger than it. I have five years of not knowing and everything is pointing at the odds being against me but I haven't given up yet and Corey has reminded me that I shouldn't any time soon.
I am Nadia Marsh and I will never give up.