My Therapy

Last week I had some appointments at the U - a little more intense than usual. The doctor who is running my clinical trial happens to be a genius who makes me nervous due to the fact that he will soon be replacing a vital organ from my open chest cavity. Its always weird for me to talk to him about my poop, my weight, and my unwillingness to schedule my overdue colonoscopy. Dr. Genius never laughs at my jokes, which irritates me . I always wonder how you become successful in life without being funny, but I find that very few people at hospitals are funny. I have favorites though. For example, the EKG guy is nerdy hipster who's hair reminds me of Sideshow Bob. I bet he is funny, but I will never really know.  I made it through the dreaded liver biopsy administered by a Doogie Howser aged doctor, who told me he likes to leave before the patients start to feel the pain that follows the procedure, so I guess that was kind of humorous. We got to rest for a day and then headed back to Huntsman for my MRCP which can only be described as the simulation of being buried alive. Every time I go into the "tube" I think about the story line on Days of Our Lives where Carlie is buried alive in a coffin by her evil husband. At least she had a live TV stream in there.

By the time we came home on Friday I was exhausted. Mentally and physically drained. I tried to catch up on all the things that I missed, but failed, as usual. I woke up Saturday morning and was thrilled to be able to restart a new medication I have been begging my local doctor (who laughs at my jokes) to let me try. I won't mention it by name, but let's just call it "legal meth for really tired people." I must preface this by telling you that I am taking no less than 20 pills a day, so what's one more? The new medicine was amazing - I was able to stay awake throughout an entire day!! I have to tell you - I have literally been praying for this for a VERY long time. My fatigue has become such an annoying part of my life, it felt amazing to be able to make it through an entire day and to get things around here done. I made big plans for my new life. A fancy chicken dinner I was going to make from scratch, an organized pantry with different bins and baskets. A Masters Degree.

When things seem too good to be true, they probably are. After 2 weeks of cleaning and cooking and organizing, my body rebelled. I woke up to a neck full of hives, a giant left ear, and a clown nose. I checked the side effects of my new drug and cried when I saw it. All of my symptoms were a blaring red flag - medicine must be stopped immediately. UGH. I cried all day. Even though I had only felt good for a few weeks, those weeks were precious to me. They reminded me of what I had been missing for years. I cried more, and I'm not gonna lie - I'm crying right now. I struggle with the fairness of my situation - even as I see people in much more complicated and sad situations. I am selfish and petty because I just want to clean my kitchen and make it through a spin class without getting nauseous. I tell myself that I'm the worst because at least I have legs. True story.

I admit to being a weak person with many flaws. I like to tell everyone about them so that they know that I ALREADY KNOW.  No need to talk about me or my flaws. I have it under control people.

Its weird though. At the end of each day I lay in my bed and tell myself that I can't take one more thing on my pile. No more money troubles, or marriage troubles, or kid troubles, or leaking pipe troubles. When I push on the brakes of my van I pretend not to hear the squeaking, because I CAN'T PUT ANYTHING ELSE ON MY PILE. And then I wake up in the morning and I start over. I am invincible at 6am. I am a hot mess with one giant ear and a clown nose at 10 pm, but I guess if I'm still breathing then everything is as it should be.