I can because I may have it, the systemic kind. It's a long story I'm too tired to tell right now. It was quite a day at my new doctor's (yes, ANOTHER doctor) and then at the lab for blood tests that have to be shipped off to the Mayo Clinic. And tomorrow, I have to collect pee for 24 hrs so that can be shipped off to Mayo, too. Mayo has been the recipient of a lot of my body fluids this past year, just in case no one was wondering.
The crazy thing is that I researched this myself, sent a note to my rheumatologist Sunday night telling her why I thought I might have a mast cell disorder and first thing this morning her nurse was telling me they wanted me to see the Immunologist pronto. This was followed by a call from the Immunologist office saying one of the three doctors in that specialty could see my today if I could be there in an hour and a half.
She didn't need a lot of convincing to make the preliminary diagnosis--not just based on other conditions already diagnosed, but perhaps even more convincingly, because I had a full-blown freakish episode in her office due to lingering perfume in the elevator. Sometimes, other people can't even smell the things that make my system short-circuit. It's hard not to feel like a freak; it tends to make one withdraw even before one becomes incapable of anything else.
That's all it takes--any "chemical". Or most foods, heat, cold, sun on my skin, wind on my face, bright light, noise, stress, any clothes that aren't made of the softest natural fibers washed over and over to remove excess dye....That unavoidable stuff will provoke my peripheral neuropathy at best; trigeminal or glossopharyngeal neuralgia at worst. And along with this constant bone pain, muscle spasticity, fuckityfuckfuckfuck.
But the funny thing is how two different neurologists almost literally killed me. But that's another story for another night, perhaps after a day of PeeingForMayo. It's not going to be nearly as much fun as WankingForScience. I feel quite positive in that prognostication.
I swear, I don't whether to kill myself or go bowling.