runlindsayrun

Oh, The Humanity

What was that I was saying about insomnia? Pay no attention to the time at the bottom of this post. Clearly, we are still dealing with side effects from The Pills. I'm working on it.

Anyway. This week, it's been all about my body - which does not work the way it's supposed to EVER, but has been a special kind of annoying to me lately.

The gallbladder drama continues... This week has been worse again, and I thought about it a little more than usual today because I know someone who's getting hers out tomorrow morning and I'd be lying if I didn't confess that I am green with envy. Is that weird? I'm completely jealous that she's getting her guts pulled out of an incision in her abdomen tomorrow morning. I realized this week that it's been nearly eight months since my first major attack. EIGHT MONTHS. Eight months where my best case scenario is constant discomfort and my worst case scenario is really, really nasty. I continue to hope that Canada will someday adopt a policy of semi-privatized healthcare because - seriously - I would LOVE to write someone a cheque to just get this done already. If that bill gets pushed through in the next decade, I'm sure I'll still be waiting for surgery.

Fibromyalgia. Arthritis. Chronic Fatigue. Blah, blah, blah... It's all kind of status quo around here. Which is maybe notable because by now - this close to the holidays - I should be starting my annual Christmas Flare. I'm working *so* hard to avoid it this year (just ask all my friends who have been permitted to socialize with me only after sitting through and then agreeing to my strict guidelines and delineation of personal healthy boundaries). Wish me luck! Them too, probably. Assuming they still want to be friends with me :)

I'll bet you thought that this entire post will be about things you already knew (and have heard me bitch about a hundred million times before). Ah, dear readers, don't be too quick to jump to conclusions. Never underestimate the evil powers of my body. Because this week - quite unexpectedly - I seem to have royally effed up my wrist. How? I'm glad you asked. And I can see why you might be wondering, given my propensity for extreme sports and drunken brawling (and combinations thereof). But the truth is that I have absolutely no idea what happened. It started hurting on Tuesday afternoon, and by today it was nasty enough that I actually went into public wearing a nasty ugly brace because it felt SO MUCH BETTER. I'm guessing that my chances of seeing my doctor in the next week are approximately equal to the chances of that lonely old Jehovah's Witness couple forgetting to make their monthly visit to us in January (THANKS AGAIN, GEOFF). So either my prayers for a Christmas miracle will come true and I'll be healed *or* I'm going to have to be on my toes throughout this festive season to ensure said fugly wrist brace will not be visible in any photos. Which should be super-easy seeing my sister is a photographer and my sister-in-law is in university studying photography.

Oh, don't worry. I totally have Real Problems. It's just sometimes easier to dwell on the ones like ugly wrist brace photos.

Labels: Arthritis/Fibromyalgia, Attack of the Gallbladder, Bitching About Nothing, WRISTSTRONG

posted by Lindsay @ 1:46 AM