Why I Can’t Wait To Have a Needle Stuck in My Arm

No, your eyes don’t deceive you. I said it: in about an hour, I’m going to have a needle stuck in my arm. And I’m really excited.

This sounds nuts, I know. And hey, if I remembered what an IV felt like, maybe I wouldn’t be so jazzed.

But here’s the thing. This needle — this IV — represents something I’ve been anticipating for what feels like a very, very long time.

For the last 18 months, it felt like the only thing I could do was wait. What else do you do when doctors don’t know what’s wrong with you? Or, once they’ve found a diagnosis but have no understanding of it or how to treat it? It was a year and a half of doctor’s visits, but never having new information on how to start getting better.

Within the last few months I’ve finally begun seeing professionals who specialize in a suite of illnesses that include chronic fatigue syndrome. It’s felt a bit like reaching the light at the end of a long, twisty tunnel. This needle– and the magnesium that’s going to be pushed through my veins– represent the beginning of my recovery and healing journey. The real one, where I’m not just running blind.

Here’s the kicker: this may not even work. It may even make me feel worse for a while.

Truth be told, I don’t care whether this works or not. There’s no way to know until we’ve tried — and that, my friends, is a start.