I always thought of blogs as being narcissistic, business related, or as my sister's, a way of keeping in touch or memorializing.

But, by necessity, I am learning a lot about myself. I find I need to get my thoughts out, and it helps me to know that someone else will read them. So I have created this little space for myself, to express the things I have trouble saying (be it emotional or physical trouble), to share what I'm going through, and what I'm learning through it.

I absolutely welcome comments. It's nice to know how people relate to what I'm saying.
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Friday, 15 April 2011

Why I'm Blah About Good News

I went to see a specialist at "The" clinic yesterday. It went well. My mom came with me, so her questions could be answered and because, generally speaking, two brains are actually better than one, especially when one is not processing things quickly. Good thing, too, because my brain was not agile enough to make the connections hers did, and when I started feeling down, she was able to tell me that all we got was good news, which is why I'm writing this now - to try to turn myself around.

The doctor was kind, remembered me, and basically said I am doing everything right. There's a couple more supplements I could be taking, but things are going as well as can possibly be expected. We are on track with her prognosis for a full recovery. Good news, right? So why do I feel so blah about it?

For starters, I was tired by the time I got there, because they neglected to tell me they'd moved within the hospital to another building so between the stress (minor) of getting there, and the longer walk than expected, I was toast. I even snapped at the nurse when she was less than kind. Ooops. Not really. She deserved it. All of that automatically put me in a bad frame of mind, which I was able to stabilize somewhat when I was with the doc.

She said stuff about cortisol and haemoglobin, and thyroid hormones. She answered all my Mom's questions, most of them before they were even asked. She was cautiously encouraging, as all docs are with things like this. Bottom line: the prognosis is still good - by avoiding a major crash I could come out of this fully. My energy levels are fairly stable. Emotionally I'm great. But I left there feeling extremely fatigued, which affects my mood, but it was more than that; I felt dejected.

I think the real problem is this: I was hoping against all hope and realistic expectation that she would say somehow even though I knew there could be no way, that I would be able to return to the school in September, that I would be able to finish my course in June, and that my life would be back to normal soon.

You see, even though I have, for the most part, accepted my predicament, I can't help wanting it to go away. And she said in no uncertain terms that it is not going away quickly enough for that part of me to be satisfied.

I can start to work part time when my energy has fully stabilized at a 7. It's taken me 3 months to get from a 3.5 to a 5. I know one of the stabilizing factors has been the warmer weather, which leaves me with the fear that even on the odd chance that I can get to a 7 by September, the fall weather will set me back again. So I need to plan on not going back to school, in any capacity, at the start of the year. Damn!

Next: my course in July. I'm supposed to be spending 2 weeks in Cincinnati, to continue my training. The doctor said that things like that are worth doing, because the emotional benefit tends to compensate for if not completely outweigh the possible physical setback. But, she pointed out, the insurance company may use it against me. I hate how much of my life is now ruled by what the insurance company thinks I should and shouldn't do, as opposed to what my doctors think is good for me. Same thing with volunteer work when I get to a solid 6.

I think, though, the biggest issue, is that I've never been good at being at home. I've really struggled with the whole concept of not "doing" anything. I'm bored, because every day feels kind of the same - you have to understand that I've spent the last 10 years in small business and in Montessori, where no day is the same as the one before. Something always comes up, there's a multitude of things on the go, and there's always a challenge. Now don't get me wrong, I still have challenges, but now most of them are internal, and I face most of them alone. It's quite a change of pace.

And now, an Expert has told me that I have many more months of this to look forward to. Oh joy. Yes, yes, I know, this is my lesson, and I'll be stronger for it and blah blah blah. Knowing it's all part of my life's journey makes it only a teeny bit less painful to swallow. Looking ahead today, all I can see is an endless stretch of time online, TV, light reading, and rest, rest, rest. It's every 13 year old's dream. It's my nightmare.

So there you have it. It's all good news. I'm doing well. Now I just need to adjust my thinking again to get myself to really see it. I'll work on that, and let you know how it went.


  1. You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in wich you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself," I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along."
    You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
    ~~~Eleanor Roosevelt~~~

  2. I don't have a quote from Eleanor Roosevelt, but I do have some words to think of. Changing the way you view things is something that needs to naturally happen when you get a diagnosis of any kind. I know that I always try to think of something I did everyday that I didn't think I would be able to do (i.e. digging a hole at Erkinder blew my socks right off). It takes a while, but I know you can do it! Remember, there are about eighteen of us (I know there are more, but 18 CMSTEPers) in your corner wishing you the very best!


  3. Well, I don't know if I could dig a hole today, but talk to me in three years... :) Thanks for the encouragement. It's nice to know you're there (understatement)!