As I strive to give you a clear vision of this journey with lymphedema, I felt it necessary to go back to the beginning, my beginning with lymphedema.
Someone at my church approached me and ask "are you ok" with a dumb founded look and my ever pleasant smile, politely I said yes, I'm doing well, why did you ask? She said she noticed my legs and mentioned that she had an aunt that suffered with "swollen legs". I replied well I do have fluid in my legs but I'm on fluid pills (diuretics) and all is well. She said she would pray for me, well I trusted her and who am I to turn down prayer right? Well some time passed and my mother asked the same question, I'm fine was my response, thinking that it comes with the territory. Well a few months has passed and I was in aqua therapy (for a totally different reason) and I walked pass a mirror and saw my legs. My reaction was wow, when did that happen? I know this sounds bazaar but that's how it came about. I spoke with my Doctor and she increased my medications (diuretics). Now it has been about six months since the initial approach and there is little to no change. My room mate at the time, woke me up at o-dark thirty in the morning and said you have to see this. I turned on the Discovery Channel and a duplicate of my legs were on the screen. I grabbed a pen and paper and began taking notes, needless to say this was way too much for me to handle. I made an appointment and gave the information to my Dr. and from this I received testing and was officially diagnosed with what I now know as lymphedema.
I felt relief because, I now understood why I could not loose weight, why diuretics and elevation did not help. So where as I should be happy, the frustration actually increased, because I was told there was nothing that could be done about it...I had to "live with it". Well that didn't settle with me either. Eventually I received MLD and wrappings and within a year (almost to the date) I was back in treatment again. This isn't all bad because I began to network and learn more about not only the condition but about the way I consciously and sub-consciously was handling it all.
I became more withdrawn, and less out going, was this due to shame or embarrassment? probably! It's not a pretty sight. I began to see people walk out of my life (not because of my diagnosis but really bad timing) I have mentioned before that I am not one to ask for help, well that is a thing of the past, because I cannot make it on my own, I just can't. I still cry but as I sit alone no one hears my tears and that's ok, so I tell myself.
I have learned so much in the past couple of years. Other than the fact that no man is an island, I've learned that I am a strong woman, I learned that nothing last forever but Gods love, I learned that although I cry, the tears eventually dry. I realized that I have a self protective wall so big around me that it not only shields me from others but it also shield others from others me. I've learned that music is my haven...I can hide in it, celebrate in it, cry in it and enjoy it for what it is. I realize how the birds must feel to always have a song, a song of peace. God is so good he knew I would need it, he speaks to me through music and I receive. I had a high pain tolerance (physical pain) but I claim that no more.
Hence the beginning, the rest is history
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