Wanna know what sucks? These suck (probably nsfw). Wanna know what sucks even more? Somehow missing the memo that this was happening to me today, not a pap smear. Wanna know what sucks more than that? Actually needing bits biopsied. Even if it doesn't exactly hurt, it is is uncomfortable to a high fucking degree. Also when I finally got tipped out of the chair, the instrument table looked a bit like a murder scene. Who'da thunk, cervixes (cervices?) bleed a lot when you snip a chunk out of them, even if it's a chunk the size of a pinhead. Sheesh, I'm glad I don't have a problem with blood.
So yeah, I'm crampy, sore and uncomfortable and pretty much cursing my defective meat. I'm also not really okay above the neck. Almost a year ago I posted this. This is one of those times where the bottom two paragraphs really fucking apply. I fucking hate being all strong and stoic about my copious medical drama and not reacting outwardly to every fucking curveball my body throws at me with more than a a sigh and eyeroll, even if inside I'm terrified and freaking the hell out. I hate doing this on my own, and weirdly enough I can't fucking stand being so goddamn competent at it because if you're not visibly freaking out and having the vapors or something everyone's going to assume you're fine and leave you alone. Which is fine because on the flip side most people attempting to fuss over me tend to piss me off. On the other hand? just because the wheel ain't squeaking doesn't mean it don't need grease, you know?
Quite possibly the worst thing about all of the above was that I got up afterward, put my pants back on, made my six month follow up appointment, walked out to my car, and drove myself home. I think if the sight of copious wind damage from the storm and negotiating blackout affected signals weren't so distracting, I would have cried the whole way back instead of only halfway. And then I walk in the door and have to deal with Cara having a super bad/seizury day. Which sucks, it really really does, but today I'm especially not feeling at all sympathetic, especially since her PCA is over helping her cook dinner. Shit, today? I'd kill for someone to cook me dinner, feed me ice cream, do my laundry and tell me everything's gonna be okay.
Self-indulgent, sure... but gods, some days I wish everyone else's problems/drama/medical stuff/ability to deal didn't automatically outweigh my own to the point where I feel like shit for even admitting that I feel like shit.
I'm going to go to bed with a book and ignore the HOLY GODS WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME cramping happening below the belly button.
So yeah, I'm crampy, sore and uncomfortable and pretty much cursing my defective meat. I'm also not really okay above the neck. Almost a year ago I posted this. This is one of those times where the bottom two paragraphs really fucking apply. I fucking hate being all strong and stoic about my copious medical drama and not reacting outwardly to every fucking curveball my body throws at me with more than a a sigh and eyeroll, even if inside I'm terrified and freaking the hell out. I hate doing this on my own, and weirdly enough I can't fucking stand being so goddamn competent at it because if you're not visibly freaking out and having the vapors or something everyone's going to assume you're fine and leave you alone. Which is fine because on the flip side most people attempting to fuss over me tend to piss me off. On the other hand? just because the wheel ain't squeaking doesn't mean it don't need grease, you know?
Quite possibly the worst thing about all of the above was that I got up afterward, put my pants back on, made my six month follow up appointment, walked out to my car, and drove myself home. I think if the sight of copious wind damage from the storm and negotiating blackout affected signals weren't so distracting, I would have cried the whole way back instead of only halfway. And then I walk in the door and have to deal with Cara having a super bad/seizury day. Which sucks, it really really does, but today I'm especially not feeling at all sympathetic, especially since her PCA is over helping her cook dinner. Shit, today? I'd kill for someone to cook me dinner, feed me ice cream, do my laundry and tell me everything's gonna be okay.
Self-indulgent, sure... but gods, some days I wish everyone else's problems/drama/medical stuff/ability to deal didn't automatically outweigh my own to the point where I feel like shit for even admitting that I feel like shit.
I'm going to go to bed with a book and ignore the HOLY GODS WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME cramping happening below the belly button.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-04 11:43 pm (UTC)From:Love you. Mean it.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-04 11:54 pm (UTC)From:Here's hoping that there isn't anything actually wrong with your ladybits for them to find.
And if you ever need someone to rant at, ping me and I'll turn on Skype.
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Date: 2010-05-05 01:18 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-05 12:58 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-05 01:57 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-05 02:14 am (UTC)From:And a few more ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
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Date: 2010-05-05 02:29 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-05 03:18 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-05 06:45 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-05 04:35 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-05 05:57 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-06 10:54 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-06 10:56 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-08 02:31 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-09 05:12 am (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2010-05-16 07:38 am (UTC)From: