Please just let me grieve my diagnosis. I'm in shock while simultaneously being sad, angry, and frustrated. I'm feeling rather blue. I'm feeling rather pissed. I'm feeling a lot. And most of it is not very good. Because even though it was the diagnosis I was expecting, it doesn't change the fact that it sucks. And it doesn't change the fact that it's not fair.
Five days ago, I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis. One day ago, I found out that my triathlon days are numbered. In fact, this whole Ironman thing is probably a terrible idea. So you know what? I'm feeling rather down. And that's okay. I won't feel like this forever. I know that. And you know that. But right now, I do. Because right now, I'm grieving. Because right now, I've been knocked off kilter, and I'm trying desperately to find my footing again.
And while I love you all, and I appreciate your trying to help, I don't want to talk about the "theories." I don't want to talk about the "alternative treatments." I don't want to know about the wishy-washy "research" you found on the world wide web. I don't want to know why putting chemicals in my body is the worst. I don't care what you think. I don't care what you "know." I simply don't care. I promise I will someday. Just not today. And probably not tomorrow.
I promise I'm doing my own research. I promise I'm trying to do what's best for me. I promise I'm working on my strength. And I promise some day (soon or maybe not), I will reach the "acceptance" stage of my grief. And I will undoubtedly want to know all about what you know or find. But in the mean time, I know better than you do what's best for me.
So, please, just be a kind smile. Just be a listening ear. Just be a shoulder for when the tears come. Just be a hug. Just be a friend. That's all I want right now. I will let you know when I'm ready for more.