I waited most of my life for my psoriatic arthritis diagnosis - to finally learn that it wasn't growing pains, or all in my head, and that I was not, in fact, imagining the pain and exhaustion.
I waited eight months after my diagnosis to finally start treatment, needing to get more diagnoses out of the way first - celiac, simple fatty liver, and pre-diabetes among them - so my doctor could figure out which medications would be safest for me to take.
Then I had to wait for months to see if the first treatment worked, then more months to see if the second treatment worked better than the first.
Now I wait again. After blood test results indicated something's amiss with my liver, my rheumatologist took me off of Remicade and ordered new bloodwork four weeks from now. Four weeks! If nothing's changed, we'll continue Remicade. If my liver enzymes are lower, we'll assume I'm one of the few who have the side effect of liver complications from Remicade, and we'll hopefully figure something else out...which will probably require more waiting.
As with anything that seems to become a theme, or at least an underlying current in my life, I will try to learn the lessons waiting has to teach me.
― Ogwo David Emenike
Passive persistence. I like that. It gives me something to think about while I passively persist.
And so I wait.