Reflecting Upon The Significance Of A Diagnosis

For the last 13 months, my focus has been on getting a diagnosis. Looking at the state of my health, it makes sense. I am sick and I don’t know why, therefore I need an answer; a diagnosis. Should getting a diagnosis be the most important thing I am working toward in my life right now? Well that’s what I am trying to figure out.

Is a diagnosis going to solve all my problems? I think I’ve unintentionally linked ‘diagnosis’ with ‘cure’ in my head because I have this stupid idea that a diagnosis is going to take all my problems away. I know it won’t, but I have somehow glorified this in my own head. Realistically, all a diagnosis will do is confirm what I already know – that I am sick. Basically, I am looking at a diagnosis of something that is probably life-long, and hard to treat. There will most likely be no cure and limited knowledge on the illness.

Is this me being pessimistic or realistic? I am still not sure. All I know is that I am protecting myself. If I keep telling myself that I will be cured and I will be at full health again, I am opening myself up to a world of disappointment – and I don’t want that. I’d rather be at peace with my fate and be pleasantly surprised than hold onto false hope and be shattered.

Why is there so much pressure on me to find a diagnosis? I don’t even believe that some of my potential diagnosis’ exist! I think doctors eventually give up and put you in the ‘too hard basket’, giving you a generalised disorder that can never been proven. I also know that diagnoses can be wrong and once you’re marked with one, doctors will stop looking for others. You will go to them with symptoms that are unrelated to your diagnosis and you will be dismissed because you already have a diagnosis and clearly, you’re just being greedy for wanting another.

Would it be nice to know exactly why my body fails me every day? Of course, it would. But will knowing this make it any easier? Probably not. In my mind there is this gold shimmering light around the word diagnosis that I am starting to question. I think I have accidentally convinced myself that a diagnosis is the end of my problems, when in reality, it is the beginning.

What if I get a diagnosis and nothing changes? I’ve focused all my energy on reaching a diagnosis, I never considered what would happen after that. In my head it feels like it will be the end of the fight. But I know it won’t.

Am I just looking for validation? Perhaps. Maybe I want to scream it from rooftops for every doctor, friend and stranger who doubted me to hear. Maybe a diagnosis is just my way of saying ‘fuck you’ to everyone who told me it was ‘all in my head’.

Why is a diagnosis more important than adequate treatment? I understand it’s hard to find treatment when you don’t know the cause of the problem but we can only try, right? If a doctor could treat my symptoms and not explain why I had symptoms to start with, would I be ok with that?

So many questions that I am still figuring out the answers to.

But still, I do my best to find rainbows amongst all this darkness.

 

 

 

 

 

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