First, an apology. I apologize for the last few days of downer posts. Summer time was rough, and autumn time has not yet lessened in the frequency of hard days. Bad news has been common, and progress has been slow.
Second, an explanation to the above apology. See, I write about these things here because it makes processing the information easier for me. Once I write everything down and send it off into the void, I can revisit the problems as a more or less objective reader. Sometimes I pretend that I didn't write the post -- sometimes I sit back and take apart the grammar and the sentence structure, as I would in the writing center. And then I read it again, this time focusing less on the words themselves, but more on possible solutions that might come to mind.
Third, an update. I again have something that I need to write about.
Dark-thirty of this morning found me up and ready in my kitchen awaiting my friend who would drive me to the specialist's office. I set up an appointment two and a half weeks ago, and this morning brought the scheduled time with it. Saying that I was nervous is an understatement. However, I was not quite scared to death, as I was fully alive and thinking about all of the "what ifs" in my mind.
I shouldn't have been so nervous. Everything went well. Every person I talked to, from the receptionist to the nurse practitioner to the phlebotomist, was kind and helpful. Rather than telling me that I was doing something wrong and causing me to feel guilty for my lack of knowledge about my body, they each helped me feel comfortable and relaxed. Their focus was on giving me information that I can use and walking me through all of the possible solutions and outcomes. Yes, medications were prescribed, and yes, lab work was required, but it wasn't as frightening as it has been in the past.
The appointment went well. I, however, don't feel well at all. The number of tests the nurse practitioner wants to run necessitated quite a bit of blood -- I ate before and after blood was drawn, but I'm still a bit shaky. There's also the fact that the results might show some serious problems, ranging from a bit serious to serious enough that I don't want to think about it.
And so I try not to think about it. But it's hard. It's hard not to be worried. It's hard not to be scared. Everything is going to work out just fine, I'm sure. I'm still scared, though.
It doesn't help that I've been having a hard time eating anything again lately. Almost every time I make or purchase a meal, I dump it, give it away, or put it back. I can't seem to eat anything. It's not that I'm not hungry -- I just don't want to eat anything. Every once in awhile, I can't eat. Food sounds so great, but if I actually try to eat it, I feel like throwing up (or do throw up). The headaches occur more frequently as well. Most likely it's due to the lack of appetite -- not only do tummies complain when they're empty, but heads want to be sure you're aware as well.
It's probably stressed related. I don't do well with change -- things keep changing quickly and adapting is hard for me. And now, more changes will be taking place. I won't mention them all here -- there are many. There are medications to be taken on a set schedule, particular foods and drinks needing to be on hand at all times, and the nurse practitioner kindly but firmly informed me that while my school is important, homework will need to take a back seat to getting sleep. She's not worried about my physical activity, but she is concerned about the amount of sleep I get. Let me just say, she's not the only one!
Everything will be okay. It really will. For now I need to force myself to eat dinner, finish some homework, and go to bed. Besides, I have something to look forward to tomorrow night!
And so, dear World, things are okay. Life really is good -- it's better if there's a way to express the inner most thoughts and feelings. At least it is for me.