When it'sa matter of life or death which do you choose?
This article was written by Ronda Behnke; story was from a young woman who wanted to remain anonymous. Names and some information have been changed to protect confidentiality.
It was the summer 5 years ago. The sun was shining, temperatures were moderate, humidity was low. But to me, none of that mattered. I had less than 3 months to live.
It wasn¡¯t a usual diagnosis: multi-system organ failure. It even took medical specialists months of testing to determine that they didn¡¯t know what was wrong; but they knew the results: all my organs were failing. The cause was unknown. The prognosis: I would die within 3 months.
How it all began
I would say I was a healthy child. I only remembered going to the doctor a few times when I was younger¡ªboth times for some sort of accident: once I fell on a large nail that stabbed me in the buttocks; the other time was for a fall that caused a gash in my head. I never remembered any times of having to take medicines until I went through puberty and developed asthma¡ªthen I became aware of drugs, hospitals, and needles. Overall, however, I managed to stay generally healthy. I even saw the medical system as being great and became a Registered Nurse.
But I was never truly happy; still, I wasn¡¯t exactly depressed either. I just saw life as something that I had to do until I died. I had been raised in a religion where it preached that the end of the world would come soon and only the members of that religion would live on. So, I saw no future beyond waiting until the end of the world. And, since I had left that religion when I was 16, I figured I wouldn¡¯t live through the destruction.
So, I went on and on, day after day, waiting for the end of the world. The older I became, the more I doubted the religion¡¯s prediction. So, I married and thought of some kind of future; still, the end of the world loomed in the back of my mind.
But having had no dreams or beliefs of a happy future, I was not happy. Having come from an abusive home, I continued that pattern by marrying a man who was different in that he didn¡¯t abuse me, but he was similar in that he disregarded me in many respects and put himself as the focus of everything. Having taken care of my family during my youth, I continued that pattern with my new husband.
The more neglectful he became, the sadder I found myself becoming. I sought counseling to teach me how to manage and be a better wife. The counseling helped somewhat, but each counselor told me that my husband was also a part of the problem and he would have to change too. He refused to change or see a counselor (as it was just my problem) because he felt he could do no wrong.
I began to have spurts of nausea. At first they were here and there, a few times a month. As I truly had no tolerance for nausea, I sought medical care pretty quickly. I was studying natural medicines at the time, but I knew of no herbs, vitamins or minerals that could stop nausea in its tracks. So, I looked at medical drugs for the relief. The drugs worked well, but I soon noticed that the nausea increased in frequency to where it was several times each week. I was eating less and becoming sadder as time went on.
The Downhill Slope
After several months of frequent nausea, I decided to return to my medical doctor to determine the cause. He was unsure of the cause, so the only course of treatment was more nausea medications.
As I continued to lose weight due to inability to eat well, I went to a Naturopathic Doctor. She stated I needed a liver flush and about $200 worth of supplements. I informed her that I couldn¡¯t keep any food down, so the supplements wouldn¡¯t stay down either. She encouraged me to try, as the ¡°muscle testing¡± never lies and it showed that I needed the supplements so I wouldn¡¯t get sick on them.
So, I tried. After the first dose, I was so intensely ill with nausea and vomiting that I couldn¡¯t do anything for several days. I stopped taking the supplements after that first dose and cancelled the next appointment.
In the meantime, I began to see how neglectful my husband was. He loved his computers and would let nothing interfere with his time with them. He told me that I could have all the medical tests I wanted, get hospitalized, and see doctors, but I was not to bother him or expect him to visit me in the hospital or go with me to get tests.
I also began to look at how he was with me even when my illness wasn¡¯t a concern. He was the focus of everything. We went nowhere unless he wanted to go. He refused to travel, refused to see movies he didn¡¯t want to see, refused to buy presents for me but would spend a lot of money on ¡°toys¡± for himself. I had only a few acquaintances and a couple of friend who weren¡¯t his friends. He didn¡¯t want me to tell anyone I was sick; he didn¡¯t want people to distract him from his time with his computer. I was not allowed to tell his parents either. He also didn¡¯t want me to get attention for being ill, as he stated I was ill just to get attention and take him away from his computer.
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