I haven’t written lately. My fevers are back and having a rough patch. I finally had a laundry list that I felt was worthy to go to the doctor. When you are sick like me you try not to bother your physicians with the day-to-day bullshit.
My primary care doctor is amazing. She is very kind and understanding but I hate making her feel impotent. Most doctors do it to help people and when you have chronic illness there aren’t many tools in the tool box for us and I imagine that the doctor doesn’t get the warm fuzzy they would get in actually curing someone. It would equate to a band-aid on an axe wound.
It appears the concerns I have are valid. Some masses have been found in different parts of my body. Another surgery has been scheduled and I have some diagnostic testing in other areas.
When they call several doctors into a procedure and tell you stuff- it is a blur. When they say the C word your life changes. Did they really say that? Am I dreaming? Scheduling surgery? What just happened?
I have been sick for so long with no solution. Is this the solution? I know the C word has a solution. Pragmatism and mathematic principles take over. That one scary word is the least scary of my worries. It is a problem that has a potential solution.
That does not stop the feelings of fear and loneliness. The need for hope. A hug. Words of reassurance. I need my mom. Every piece of literature I have been given says to have a great support system. Where the hell do you get one of those? Does insurance cover it?
I need a support system that doesn’t taper me out of their lives when I am whatever the fuck justification is convienent. Why are the sick cast aside? Left alone. What about my children? I am all they have because of me. I am cast out and so they are too?
All of this trendy mindfulness. Weeding out what is “too much work” has made us a society of selfish assholes. Life is messy. Reality television has made family drama a competition. What is this teaching our children?
I hope that my children learn compassion despite the actions they witness outside of our home. I pray that they understand that people are not disposable because of something out of their control. Illness is not a choice.
I keep getting smaller and smaller. My world is getting smaller and smaller. Worst case scenario for me is that even after treatment, I will still be sick.
My hopes tell me that this is the answer. That maybe I will be all better after this. I want to be all better. I want a band-aid and kiss the boo-boo. Magic.
I will try to pull it together and have something inspirational or a recipe soon.