Out of Spoons, But I Swear I'm Okay

Hi. My name is Christina. I'm a spoonie. Otherwise known to be chronically ill, juggling multi-autoimmune diseases. Further entangled by anxiety. I live my life out of spoons, swearing I'm OK. I don't look sick, so why should anyone know I am right? I tend, but really, I don't mean to aggravate my 10 plus doctors and specialists with what they call persistent determination. But I know the truth. I'm obstinate and stubborn. And I complicate my symptoms by ignoring them. 

I know, I hear you. I get it. Believe me. My pulmonologist calls me a road runner. He insists I need to slow down. He told me during our last visit to pick 2 tasks, not 10 and complete only those. He was also very clear... be more deliberate and intentional with my time.  He's not wrong. It's just not something I'm good at to be honest. I hide behind this mask, insisting I'm not sick, knowing full well I am. It's a lesson I had to learn the hard way in 2025.

Not to be dramatic, but you'd think after almost dying in November 2024, I'd have figured it out already. My doctors thought so too. Instead, I went back to work, kept pushing myself, traveling and ignoring how fatigued I was. I mean dangerously high blood calcium levels over 17 plus had to be a fluke, right? Sure, I was in ICU for almost a week. I had no muscle control, I couldn't walk, hold a phone or form a sentence. I was unable to eat, and I suffered kidney injury and shock. But I wasn't going to let that stop me. You guessed it. I told myself against my doctors and family's better judgment, I was fine. Ok even. I could handle this. So yes, I still left for Disneyworld five days later.

After that, pretty much all of 2025 became a game of what's behind door number 1, 2, 3 etc. I actually made my personal out of pocket by mid-February. Then between imaging, appointments and constant labs I finished up the school year. I helped my folks over the summer and rested as much as possible. I did pay attention when my abdomen swelled up like I was 6 months pregnant. No, I didn't dismiss my anxiety when it got worse. I learned to breathe through nightly panic attacks in my sleep. I really tried to pay attention more to my body. I just wasn't ready to admit my body was completely failing me already. But it was and in a big way. I just didn't see it coming. 

So, yes I was completely blindsided when my body and this crazy ANCA Positive/Systemic/MPO refractory vasculitis sprung their master plans on me. Plans that went beyond any of the known organs diagnosed already. Then on the night of November 15, 2024, I had a major heart attack.