A while back, I had a blog on that bastion of irrelevance call MySpace. I planned to turn that electronic documentation of my painful descent toward mediocrity into a memoir. Mediocrity achieved, I’ve since removed it.
Had you read it, you would have seen a person who made her first ever campaign contribution to John McCain, become a fervent, if incoherent and inconsistent Obama supporter.
Trending: Fire Fauci the Fraud
Don’t worry, I didn’t vote for him. I didn’t contribute money or time to his campaign, either. My support consisted of getting into arguments with the couple of openly racist persons in my life and posting the equivalent of “OMG, Obama is, like, tha bomb, yall!” to my blog. I am fairly sure my enthusiasm swayed no one. Nevertheless, I feel I owe the universe an apology and an explanation.
The main theme of my MySpace blog was pain. Back then, I was falling a lot, my brain felt like 5 lbs of cotton candy, and I was in constant agony.
After a series of tests to rule out things like multiple sclerosis, I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia syndrome, or FMS. You probably know a little about FMS from drug ads on TV. I assure you they do not do it justice, and that the side effects list is a joke.
May cause sympathy to leftism and susceptibility to nonsensical sayings like “Hope and Change!
I was on five different medications to combat my various symptoms. Several of them together cause fatigue (in addition to the standard FMS fatigue) and hallucinations. I would see wisps of smoke, flashes of electricity, and oddly, hamsters.
I also saw Obama and, after a while, found him a likable guy. I thought he was intelligent, with a bit of eloquence, though I completely failed to see the teleprompters during his DNC acceptance speech. If you thought that people who voted for Obama might be on drugs, well, you may be onto something.
When Obama won, I and my (at the time) boyfriend of seven years thought America had made the right choice. America was finally post-racial! There was a young, fired-up guy in the White House about to shake things up. While medicated, I believe that Obama had great ideas and unlimited energy. Just say no!
As time passed, I was unsatisfied with my condition. I was still able to work, but I was not able to do anything else, even on five medications. I would come home and basically drop dead for the day. I had assorted pains and migraines, and still wasn’t thinking very quickly.
I went from snappiness of brain to sogginess. The meds were making me replace words with other words. For months, I had Thanksgiving Day and Valentine’s Day confused.
My friend found me a new doctor who didn’t take insurance, so he actually had time to sit and listen to his patients, as he knew he didn’t have to cram in Medicare patients at $15 a pop. Lo, it turned out I also have celiac disease—damaged intestine caused by gluten (a wheat protein).
For those of you who think celiac disease is something only rich white women with time and money contract, you are partly right. It is a disease of genetics and is concentrated in females of northern European descent. I am one such female, however I am not even remotely rich, and I certainly don’t have any time.
Damaged intestines don’t digest food very well, and hence nutrients don’t make it up to the brain. Once I cut gluten out of my life, my pain started to dissipate. I was less hungry all the time. Most importantly, my brain came back. Interestingly, as my brain got better, my irrational adoration of Obama dwindled. I was also able to stop taking all of my fibromyalgia drugs–every last one.
My brain really came back. Instead of saying things like “They really ought to give Obama a break; he’s new!”, I started saying things like, “Oh my gosh, did you see that? They cut that clip to make the Republican sound like a jerk. If you saw the whole thing on Youtube, you’d know. How can they get away with that?”
Now I’m not saying that all the rich white Leftists that voted for and continue to apologize for Obama suffer from rich white people diseases that have made them lose their minds. I’m just saying it’s possible!
See your doctor…ASAP!
Contributor: Kevin Jackson (c) 2010 The Black Sphere, LLC
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