Addison's Disease explained a lot, but not everything that was wrong with me, and certainly not my pain. I had to keep begging for answers, and for help, but it was a struggle to find capable doctors who knew anything about just this one, rare disease, and who didn't dismiss all of my symptoms. Most often, I was told that these extreme, life-altering physical problems were psychological, even after I had medical evidence of Addison's Disease, and after I provided my medical history, and provided my psychiatric records, with normal, trauma-related diagnoses such as PTSD. I was told that I was not in pain, but that I was a drug-seeker instead. I was told that I had no physical illnesses, but that I had a conversion disorder (Freud's female hysteria), a psychosomatic disorder, or Munchausen syndrome. I was sent to psychiatric wings, with no evidence of psychosis, when I entered hospitals with empirical medical emergencies. Meanwhile, my emergency symptoms of Addison's Disease went untreated, and all of my other, strange symptoms grew worse. By 2014, I started to lose hope, and I expected to die. I couldn't work, I had no money left to live on...and I lost everything:
In 2015, I had to enter nursing care, but I had become so sick so quickly, that I couldn't plan for my possessions. I didn't have any living family (my cats also died in 2013-2014), and all of my friends had melted away. I had to dispose of my personal records, pictures, and special items. Then, I had to ask charities to come to take all of my property, antiques, heirlooms, a lifetime collection of books, music scores, CDs, LPs, and cassettes, and rare harps and instruments that were made for me. I sold my piano for a fraction of what it was worth, for my cremation fund. That money was extorted by two strangers, who, in my desperation, had offered to help me, and then demanded my money in exchange for my remaining possessions, which they were holding after a hospitalization. Those few, bare necessities, now damaged and soiled, are in a closet-sized storage unit, which I can't pay for. My car, which I had kept so clean and cozy, and loved to drive, was repossessed. My last home rental became an eviction. I had nothing left, and my hope was broken.
But I persisted, and I ended up between hospitals and nursing homes. Slowly, I began to be diagnosed ... with multiple rare diseases. Some of my other diagnoses are Polyglandular Autoimmune Syndrome Type 2 (Schmidt's Syndrome), Multiple Autoimmune Syndrome, Postural Orthostatic Tachichardia Syndrome (POTS) Dysautonomia, Myalgic Encephalomyelitis, Mitochondrial Disorder, Systemic Lupus Erythematosus, Secondary Sjogren's Syndrome, Madelung's Deformity with Ulnar Impaction Syndrome, Central Pain Syndrome with Fibromyalgia, Multilevel Spinal Disease, Hyperacusis with Subjective, Objective, and Pulsatar Tinnitus, Keratoconus, Hidradenitis Supperativa, and Connective Tissue Disease with Recurrent Dislocations and Vertebral Subluxations. I had to start adding attachments to my medical ID bracelet. I was finally diagnosed with so many, rare conditions, with still unanswered questions, that most doctors now will not accept me as a patient because my case is too difficult.
