Okay, the thread title is a bit of hyperbole but I used it to illustrate a point. PsA has turned me into a cyberchondriac.
Prior to PsA i felt invincible. I had my problems in life like anyone else but I always, ALWAYS had my health. It was my suit of armor. It was what enabled me to get through anything and almost always have a positive attitude. The thing I hate most about having PsA is that it robbed me of that.
I have gone down the rabbit hole of googling symptoms more times than I can count. I've wasted days at work when I should have been productive, worrying that I might have this or that. PsA cracked my armor and over the years it's begun to fall off piece by piece so that now, rather than feeling invincible, I feel I'm always on the verge of something terrible. Every ache or pain that won't go away I'm convinced, despite knowing better, is something terrible. Usually cancer. As wonderful as being on Humira has been, and as much good as it's done me, the spectre of cancer comes along with it. Not because my odds of getting cancer have increased by much at all. Studies have shown that absolutely not to be the case. It's more of a mental thing.
And it's the mental aspect of having this disease that I've struggled with the most. I've gone from rarely ever seeing a doctor to seeing one every couple of weeks, it seems. What's that lump on the side of my neck? Why do I have this left side head pressure? Why does my testicle ache? Why am I having to urinate more frequently than usual? Why is my blood pressure high for the first time in my life? What's that pain in my chest? And on and on and on. I feels like a marathon of health issues I can never quite get to the end of.
I keep thinking that I'm nearly done. That I've dealt with nearly ever issue. But then a new one crops up and it more trips to the doctor. I never struggled with depression before in my life. Never ever really understood it. But lately I find I'm down in the dumps more often than not.
I have one more issue to deal with and my hope is that by summer maybe, MAYBE, I'll be at the end of all the doctor appointments. I'd really love a few months of simple peace and living life. Like I used to. Just to be able to live a while without worrying that something was wrong.
That's the thing they don't tell you about PsA. Yes, it takes a physical toll but the mental toll is so much worse. This was kind of a rambling stream of consciousness and I'm not really sure what my point is. Maybe I just needed to vent for a bit. But this is where my head is at right now. And I hate it. And I thought getting out might help a little.