I guess I should have thought that a stomach scan didn’t check for mental disabilities but I don’t know! Medical science has come a long way and I’m not sure how these things work!
Being a therapist’s kid has always had me aware of my mental… state. Like wondering if I’m going crazy or something. Questioning your sanity means you’re not off the deep end yet right? Or is my thinking that just a way for the crazy to sneak up on me? I don’t know these things but it is food for thought on why when I’m confronted with an unknown diagnosis I immediately jump to the conclusion of Autism.
It probably doesn’t help that where I live used to be a Schizophrenic ward.
As for the disease itself I’m happy to say that it isn’t fatal as long as you treat it and, though I was told I had a pretty severe case of it (including multiple holes in my intestines), I should be ok as long as I can continue to fork over the cash to continue my treatment.
Diseases are a weird thing. Basically, my immune system is such a natural badass, killing off germs and bacteria left and right, that it got a little too xenophobic and started artillery striking my useful civilian bacteria in my guts. My white blood cells are so ruthless in their purging of all “foreign” objects that they don’t care about the extensive damage to my internal infrastructure, particularly my intestinal walls.
Theoretical warfare is great and all but it sure sucks when the campaign is going on in your own body.