You can't be a phoenix without the ashes

I never thought I'd be here. I never thought that at age twenty-six I'd be sitting in my room afraid to go down the stairs because I might pass out. I never thought I'd be afraid of falling in the shower, because the hot water and raising my arms to wash my hair make me dizzy. I never thought I'd be afraid to take my dogs out because if I faint, I may lose their leashes and they might get lost. I never thought I'd drink ensures to make sure I get enough nutrients everyday because I'm too nauseous for real food. I never thought I'd be worried about my hair falling out in chunks. I never thought I'd go from being the over involved overachiever I was, to spending all day everyday in my bed at home. I never thought that I'd be the girl who sees her doctors more often than her friends. And I never thought I'd be the girl who is stuck in a body that is holding her back from doing the things she loves. I never thought I would be here, but I am.
Accepting life's limitations was never something I was comfortable with. I've always been a vibrant girl with the gumption to do what I set my mind to. That is why now that POTS is holding me back, I'm at a loss. I am doing everything the doctors are telling me to do. I drink gallons of gatorade, I keep my weight up (higher than I'd like), I eat tons of salt, I take dozens of prescribed pills, I am starting a physical therapy program, but while these all help a bit, none make me better. Nothing makes me better. I seem to have met that inevitable thing in life that I can't beat. Something was bound to stop me and prove that everyone has limitations, even me.
Now I know that sounds all "oh woe is me" and downtrodden. Its really not. Its not meant to. Its not like I'm giving up, I am just in uncharted territory here. I'm a lot like my Dad. I like to fix things. I see a problem, I fix it. If I can't fix it, I find someone who can. If no one can, it bothers me until I find something to at least make it better. With POTS, there is no fix. No cure. There are crappy treatments that make you feel worse at times better at others, but no real fix. We've established that my present status quo is probably as good as its going to get for a while. At least until I see Dr. Grubb in Toledo (the leading POTS researcher and doctor). He's the next step of my plan, to see if I can find someone who can fix it. Its just frustrating that we're going to have to wait a year to see a doctor when your life is on hold until you get to see him.I just never thought I'd be here, waiting by the phone for a call from a doctor in hopes that he can give me my life back.
It kind of lights a fire up under you. I feel this surge of desire just wanting to fix things, but have no way to do that. I wish I could fix it; fix POTS for everyone. Make it something that is in the history books as something people once had to deal with before we found the cure. Wouldn't that be cool. ;o)
I think its funny when people think I'm feeling sorry for myself, although in my poor writing, who wouldn't? I guess I don't effectively convey my feelings to print. I don't feel sorry for myself. I am proud that I am a strong enough person to get through this. I am very aware of the struggles I'm going through because of POTS, and that makes me even more adamant that I want to get better. While POTS is inconvenient and uncomfortable, its not a life sentence. It could always be worse. Its not cancer, its not AIDS, its not going to kill me. Its something that will test me, test my strength and will make me stronger in the end. I know that on the other end of this, when I'm better, I will truly appreciate and be grateful for every step I take. I fought for each one. You can't be a phoenix rising without ashes...