C’est La Vie.

So, I’m supposed to find out in oh about 12 hours or so whether I’m dying or not. Just kidding…well about the dying part. Truth is, I have no clue what the doctor is going to say tomorrow. All I know is that she got the blood work results and notes from my recent 2 visits to the ER — non-headache related — last week and the nurse that called me was really cryptic-like on the phone. She wanted to know “how much the doctor in the ER had told me” and that it was “imperative” that I make an appointment to come in ASAP, but refused to tell me anything over the phone. Yeahhhhh.


So, of course, I’m here thinking I’m gonna die or something because-genius that I am–I made the dumb decision to pull up the numbers from my bloodwork — isn’t it amazing that everything is online now and patient-accessible?? — and hit up Google and WebMD. Not the smartest move, I’ll admit. So here I am thinking that I’ve got some deadly infection or disease or god-forbid kind of blood cancer and well–it’s stupid because it’s all probably nothing. Probably. Hopefully. I mean, aside from these stupid headaches and those 2 off days last week and just that over-all feeling of being run-down–which is most likely just me running myself ragged with work and whatnot and barely sleeping–I feel fine. Not perfect, but relatively fine.


So, I’m going to cross my fingers and hope for the best, because I’ve had just about enough of doctors and the inside of ER’s and hospitals–not to mention surgeries and treatments and meds–these past 15 months to literally last me a lifetime. And if by some chance it is bad news, well then, I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and deal. If I’ve learned anything the past couple of years, it’s that life happens and it’s unpredictable as hell. You can try to slow it down, try to control how everything turns out…but you just can’t. Most of the time you’re just a rider on the damn roller-coaster…and you got to go with it, and hang on it. Or let go, close your eyes, and hope like hell you don’t fly off and end up a pancake in the grass below–that the inspector didn’t miss that loose screw or belt on his recent check, that way you don’t go out in a blaze of gore (not glory) like those people in “Final Destination” did–yuck.. Horrible, horrifying analogies, I know. But I’m reaaaalllly tired, so you’ll have to give me a break on my writing and this short, short post. I can barely keep my eyes open.


So anywho, fingers are crossed, pillows are fluffed…it’s lights out for this girl. ‘Til next time (and hopefully with a good update).

xoMESSIE

 

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