I had a teacher tell me in eighth grade that I should never start a presentation with a disclaimer. Joke’s on her, because I start just about everything with a disclaimer. That’s called not being confident! I’m somehow confident enough to do new things, yet I don’t exactly approach them with confidence. Can anyone unpack that?
Anyway. It’s tempting to pre-empt this post with a disclaimer. The funny thing is…I had this site for two years, privately, and filled it with posts. Really, that happened. I used to sit in Battery Park, or on the porch, or in my favorite bakery and just write my stream of consciousness. It was a sort of test run, and honestly, writing those posts helped me…big time. I had the conversations with myself that I didn’t think I could have with anyone else. I complained here, because trying not to complain to your family and friends can really muck up your brain. I wrote about the things that worry me, as well as the things for which I was (and still am) grateful. This could not be sappier but it must be said: I learned about myself.
Today, I bought this domain name. I chose “saorza” two years ago with the help of a very wise friend (hi Josh) because I thought I was going to be traveling Scotland for a year and wanted to document my adventures. I’m like, super creative, of course, so I tweaked the Scots Gaelic word “saorsa,” signifying a combination of words such as “freedom,” “salvation,” and “redemption.” Now I did not end up going to Scotland for my MA degree as I had originally planned, thanks to *drum roll* …the reason I want to make this blog public.
I’ve spent the last five years (amazing musical) trying to solve a health mystery that is only getting weirder and weirder. Imagine someone hands you a puzzle, but it’s actually a bunch of pieces to multiple different puzzles, and then when you go to see a bunch of different puzzle experts they tell you things like “stop eating bread” or that “you’re only imagining the puzzle pieces.” These puzzle pieces are everywhere and they’re getting in the way of your whole life, and on top of everything else, more keep appearing. Plenty of people do actually see them, but no one knows how to sort the pieces.
So that’s my terrible metaphor, but really, it has been a roller-coaster these past five years and I have cried openly in too many doctor’s offices. (Would love for that to be less of a thing.) There have been so many times that I wished I could just find someone out there who can relate to what I’m going through, but I haven’t had any luck. However, I do not believe for a second that I’m the first person to go through…whatever this is. There’s too many people in the world for that! So, what you’re going to find here is a combination of me talking about the past and present of this bizarre experience in hopes that these words might someday reach the right person. Not so much for my sake but so that ideally, someone in the future may not have to go through this alone. It feels wrong to say I’ve been alone, as I’ve had in the past and still have incredible support, but man it would be great for someone to tell me there’s an explanation to all of this.
I think that’s enough for now. Besides, I have to work on a letter to my insurance company explaining that I shouldn’t owe them $48,000 just because some ER doctors thought I was having a stroke back in February.
…this is what I mean. This is just a casual task on my Sunday to-do list.
One last thing: I hope that anyone who reads this knows that I want you to laugh at this stuff. I’ve been laughing through all of this, because what else can you do? You laugh, you cry, you make the next appointment, you get 70 versions of the same bill from your local urgent care – such is life.