It has been so many years since I was first diagnosed with anemia. A routine trip to the doctor’s revealed the reasoning behind my constant fatigue and yellowing skin. Neither my mother nor I had seen the difference of coloring in the palms of my hands until then. In addition to the basic information on anemia being told to my mother and me, the doctor casually but warningly slipped in that the lack of red blood cells in my body could eventually lead to leukemia. That is if the anemia was not taken care of properly. That sounded a lot worse at the time than it does now. Now that danger only seems like a tiny threat. There are many ways to get better from, such as iron pills and certain foods. Every inch of my body detests iron pills. For the one week I decided to take them I felt like an eleven-ton boulder. I felt so strongly about them that I never took them again. I really do like the foods that were suggested as an alternative to the iron pills. Lentils, beans, spinach; I eat them all the time. However much I eat those products none of them quite worked for me, the anemia has never gone away.
I will admit there are some days worse than others. There are times when the yellow coloring from the anemia is noticeable in my face or the color of my palms. There are days when I want to cry or scream because no matter the hours I spend asleep or in bed, nothing will stop me from being so uncontrollably tired. Sometimes I feel like it has so much control over my body that my mind gives up trying to take control.
I remember a time when my anemia was at it’s worst. Every other day I would think, “This is the most exhausted I have ever been in my life I am sure.” I miserably woke up and would impatiently waited until I can go back to my bed. The process of my decreasing energy had been so long and slow I processed it as just growing up. I am no doctor to say that it was not just growing up. Maybe it was my imagination taking the dramatic tone up a notch and creating a more than drastic excuse for my fatigue. I just remember it being the worst time for me.
My mom or boyfriend would look at me when I was feeling especially down and I could see the questions printed all over their faces. The same worried expressions towards me became routine and I could not help but to look at them angrily and roll my eyes in return. When they finally ask me if I’m okay I often became aggressive and lashed out at them, “I’m fine! I’m just tired.” My mom tried to force iron pills down my throat. She would yell, “This is scary! You can get cancer! Do you not understand that?” You never imagine a loved ones concern becoming such a large annoyance. I finally started taking care of myself after those fights. Although I’m still very anemic I feel a lot better than I did back then. I still feel really bad about scaring the people I care about.
I will admit there are some days worse than others. There are times when the yellow coloring from the anemia is noticeable in my face or the color of my palms. There are days when I want to cry or scream because no matter the hours I spend asleep or in bed, nothing will stop me from being so uncontrollably tired. Sometimes I feel like it has so much control over my body that my mind gives up trying to take control.
I remember a time when my anemia was at it’s worst. Every other day I would think, “This is the most exhausted I have ever been in my life I am sure.” I miserably woke up and would impatiently waited until I can go back to my bed. The process of my decreasing energy had been so long and slow I processed it as just growing up. I am no doctor to say that it was not just growing up. Maybe it was my imagination taking the dramatic tone up a notch and creating a more than drastic excuse for my fatigue. I just remember it being the worst time for me.
My mom or boyfriend would look at me when I was feeling especially down and I could see the questions printed all over their faces. The same worried expressions towards me became routine and I could not help but to look at them angrily and roll my eyes in return. When they finally ask me if I’m okay I often became aggressive and lashed out at them, “I’m fine! I’m just tired.” My mom tried to force iron pills down my throat. She would yell, “This is scary! You can get cancer! Do you not understand that?” You never imagine a loved ones concern becoming such a large annoyance. I finally started taking care of myself after those fights. Although I’m still very anemic I feel a lot better than I did back then. I still feel really bad about scaring the people I care about.
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