You've likely noticed that things here in the Jar...well...they've been quiet.
Have I been abducted by aliens?
Did Jake blow up the house?
Has my computer suddenly died?
My health has really taken a dive these past few weeks. I have dragged myself through days at work, only to come home and literally crash on the couch; unable even to get up to fix myself something to eat. My hands have been so painful that it's difficult to type three sentences, and it's even more difficult to find something to say. I have sat and tried many times to type something funny, something lighthearted, something interesting, and every time I end up giving up. By the time the end of the day comes and I get here, I just have nothing left and end up feeling frustrated with myself and so tired that I can't even concentrate on writing a coherent sentence.
My husband has held my closer and gently stroked my hair, my son has brought me tea and given me extra hugs and kisses. My heart breaks sometimes, just looking at them. I know they're scared to death, and to be honest, so am I. I feel so incredibly guilty to be placing this burden on them-this fear that something really, really serious could be wrong with me. So I don't tell them much and just push on through the crushing fatigue and the pain, trying to do the normal "Mom" things like fixing dinner and throwing in a load of laundry; even though it's been glaringly obvious that even that has become difficult.
I know they see it. I see how they look at me with thinly veiled concern, and I finally had to ask them to stop asking, "how are you feeling?" six times a day because honestly, the answer was just always the same and I hated crushing their hope that I'd say, "GREAT! I feel WONDERFUL!"
Because to be perfectly honest, I feel like I've been fun over by a logging truck. Slowly. ALL the freaking TIME.
While life has had some normalcy-school, work, laundry, chores, there's been stuff that just isn't normal; like the MRI I had to have on Sunday.
MRIs in real life are far less fun then on House, and the doctors aren't as cute or witty either. Of course it was also much less dramatic, thank God. I didn't seizure or suddenly leak some bodily fluid, nor did iron deposits suddenly rip apart my organs. I laid there for an hour and a half, listening to the machine beeping loudly like some half crazed alarm clock, and composed my grocery list in my head. All while trying not to swallow and ignore the fact that my right eyebrow was suddenly incredibly itchy.
Why is it that you never notice swallowing until you aren't allowed to do it? Then suddenly it's all, "Oh my GOD I must swallow NOW."
I half expected the technician to come running out all dramatic like and say, "Oh my god, get the girl to oncology, she has a brain tumour!" ....but he didn't.
They said it could be 10 days-2 weeks until I know the results, so now I wait.
I hate waiting.
So for my regular readers (all 3 of you), my posting is going to continue to be sporadic over the next little while, or at least until things get back to normal and I finally have something left at the end of the day.
Who knows; things may never really get back to normal, but I can hope, right?
Or at least keep my fingers crossed.