Warning: This post will be a total pity party. I try not to use my blog as a negative outlet but I need
to give my poor husband a little break. You've been warned.
Today I had my post-op appointment and found out the cyst that was removed is benign. Yay!
I saw the pictures and it was gross. So gross I almost couldn't eat lunch. So gross I had to post it on Instagram to show everyone how gross it was. I'll spare you guys.
So that is all said and done. Last week I felt like I had more energy and more motivation than I've felt in a long time which I attributed to the lack of foreign blob in my body. This week it's back. I've probably cried more this week than I have the last couple of months. I'm just so tired of this.
Tired of waking up at not wanting to open my eyes because I dont know if I'm going to feel sick that day. Tired of new symptoms popping up like weeds. Tired of being sick and tired. I honestly don't remember what it feels like to be 100% and that scares me. I told Tim last night that I feel like he got a bad deal. Like marrying me was comparable to buying a lame racehorse that would eventually have to be put down. He puts up with so much. Do you know what it's like to spend your days with someone who is sick, or afraid of being sick, or anticipating getting sick? He does. I try my best to always tell him how thankful I am for him and what a great husband he turned out to be ( I'm not surprised, he was an amazing boyfriend too).
Before last year I had never even had blood drawn, since I was a baby of course.
Now I've had tests, needles and tubes, extractions, procedures, anesthesia (too many times in a year), and pills....oh the pills. Don't get me started on those things.
If I could go back to this day in 2009, when we first started dating, I would tell myself to slow down and appreciate the little things.
That day was probably one of the best. I had never felt so happy with someone, and happy with myself. If only I could've bottled it up just to take a sip or two on the days that were about to come.
I'm finding myself asking, "Why me?" all too often. I would be overjoyed to just have to deal with anxiety and depression again. That stuff was minor leagues compared to this! I get angry with myself because I am so blessed with the wonderful life and people that I have. That should be enough. I just want to be well enough to enjoy this time I have here. God has a purpose for this. I'm not sure what it is, but I can't question him.
Whew! That's my rant. Hopefully I won't have another one for a long while.
If you've made it this far I congratulate you on your patience and endurance :)