Friday, November 4, 2011
Right now, it seems like so many things in my life are up in the air. As I try to move forward and complete homework and see friends, I move back and forth between the medical world and the real one as my bowels continue to present issues for me. I continue my home TPN, try to keep my chin up, and push away my anxiety about my uncertain near future.
This past Tuesday, I trekked to my GI, butterflies in my belly, medical notebook in hand. It felt like I was holding my breath, like my future was being held by doctors and unknown to me. I was called in to a room and eventually the doctors came in and my heart jumped in my mouth. Soon the questions hit an emotional spot and I began to tear up, and soon, full blown sobs. I tried to fight through the tears and speak clearly, but I was devastated and exhausted and in pain and had no time left for pleasantries.
I need bloodwork, and so at one point, we ‘took a break’ and I was whisked off to get poked. The lady was very nice, she rubbed my arm and said, “Don’t worry, he’ll fix you.” I began to cry harder. Even though I’m sure she meant it with the best intentions, it’s just not something someone should say to a chronically ill person. No one can fix me, not really, and that’s too much to put on anyone.
I hate taking one day at a time. I’m a planner, I want things organized, things ready, things set. But I am doing my very, very best to take one day at a time, which is a work in progress. It’s all I can think to do when the future is as blurry as mine seems to be, one foot in front of the other, a big smile, and belief in myself and my future - that’s all I can do.
And I hope that one day, all of those little steps and big smiles will do the trick and I get my future back.