I Love Cardigans

It's starting to get colder here, that time of the year when sweaters you haven't seen since last winter are pulled out of the closet. I pulled out my favorite cardigan today - dark red, large flat buttons, two front pockets, I love it. I've worn it so many times it's worn out alright - but still, I love the feel of it, the warmth of it. Why is it so difficult to find good cardigans these days?

I found a note in one of the pockets. It was a note I'd written myself before going to see the doctor - I wanted to make sure I'll remember to tell her all the symptoms I've been feeling for a while. The note, tattered and torn at the edges, said:

"Sweats and tremors, especially night sweats
Head zaps, like a short circuit or rusty chainsaw buzzing in the brain
Hot flashes, burning sensations of the skin
Depression for most of the day
Insomnia, few hours of sleep, poor quality of sleep"

This was a year, or over a year ago. The doctors said it wasn't supposed to last more than a few weeks. Now my doctor tells me the withdrawal wasn't supposed to happen in the first place, and that it's supposed to be over in a few days.

Isn't someone supposed to inform my body and nervous system that they're not supposed to make me feel so sick? I think they don't quite get it, even though they're supposed to.

For over a year I've been dealing with this. For over a year I've been battling this torture. And all they can do is tell me it's not "supposed to" happen. I know I'm supposed to trust my doctors to take care of me and heal me.

I don't.