That same pain kept me hunched over in a ball while I spoke, clearly and concisely, at each scheduled conference call, yet I ignored it while I drove clear across town for an event or meeting.
The pain was then followed by aunt Flow. And she never left. The pain, or aunt Flow.
Actually, Aunt Flow decided to stay in my newly expanded abdomen that was only reviled by my post-surgery girth. Truth be told, my stomach might be fatter that my post-surgery gas-expanded girth. But I digress.
I can't sleep.
I can't sleep simply because I am weak, and a bit scared of yet another doctor visit, medical exams, and a diagnosis that will be followed by the inevitable procedure. Surgery if you may.
I can't sleep.
I can't sleep because my husband, who usually ignores the pills and turns the other way when I cry because my body expands and shrinks without control, took tomorrow off; to join me for yet another doctors appointment.
And, while he sleeps and snores in unison with Chatito, I can't sleep. Not because I am scared - but because I am tired of being sick.
Do you know what it's like to have zero control over your body? I do. Everyday.
I can't sleep, because as anxious as I am, I also want whatever it is that is making me morph into a 90-year old woman one day, while the mirror lies and tells me I am 30, to meet me in the middle and give ma little wiggle room to somewhat enjoy my life. Or at least, to be given the tools to control it.
So far, I am batting a pretty low average and loosing this health battle. Be it a plant-based diet that only makes me hungrier, or a low calorie diet that doesn't offer the vitamins I need, I've also attempted acupuncture, chiropractic care, and anything else under the radar: Eastern and Western, hoping for a health turn-around. To no avail.
I've learned that it's a lifelong battle that everyone seems to have an opinion about, but no one can personally relate to. So I keep my complaints to myself or blog about them. Like today. Because, I can't sleep -
