WELL IT SURE FEELS LIKE IT. (Thanks, Parks and Rec.)
For the past month, my health has been wonky as fuck. I’ve been to the ER twice – once for my stomach when I lost all appetite, wasn’t eating very much, which made my stomach hurt a lot and my digestive system a nightmare. CT was done, which showed a mass on my liver, but no other reason for me to be in pain.
The liver thing, according to the medical community, is called Focal-Nodular-Hyperplasia, a collection of tiny blood vessels in the liver – and it’s believed to be benign. I got an MRI done, and it’s a large-ass fucker, but otherwise, it won’t kill me (followup on this is in four months).
I went to the ER again – this time for my head. For a while now, I’ve been getting burning headaches – that’s not really an apt description because it doesn’t feel like a typical headache. It’s like my scalp is on fire. Like if someone put a cigarette out on my head. I feel like they typically get worse the more stressed I get – and y’all know I don’t get stressed EVER – buuuut, then I got a fuckin’ migraine, and then the left side of my face went numb twice in one week and I was like, “ZOMG STROKE!” … except that it wasn’t, no one knows what it is, my CT was fine, the MRI I got done was fine, the autoimmune tests came back fine, everything’s fine, fine, fine.
My body, in general, just burns. I, she-who-does-not-take-off-of-work, took two days off. I would have taken today off, too, but um, hello, money. But the burning is relentless and irritating, and sleep mocks the ever-living-fuck out of me. My leg and foot have also decided to join this game, by becoming swollen and hurty, and I’m having a weird time with balance as of late. I stand still, but I sway. I sit still, but I sway. I’m like an unsteady tree in a gentle breeze… which leads me to recant everything terrible I’ve ever done in this life, ever, because I must be paying for something in a previous one.
Anyway.
Tomorrow I have four doctors’ appointments, and if we’re lucky, maybe one of them might have a bright idea. I’ve tried to write this post for over a week now and I kept putting it off because it wasn’t funny enough or laughable in some sad way. But sometimes the sad’s just gotta be put out there, regardless of whether I can make a joke. I am trying my best to remain positive throughout all this health stuff (because, despite my anxiety’s protestations, I am breathing right at this very moment). I also started anxiety meds again (Buspar for a few days and that was a big ol’ NOPE; now Paxil, which I’m maybe irrationally terrified of, but terrified none the less – and yes, I guess it is possible to have anxiety about your anxiety medications?).
Have a good night, friends. Be kind to yourselves.
I Swear Too Much 