Marshmallow Scars

I’ve been pretty sick for a while, and I finally browbeat my doctor into doing some tests and finding out that I have PCOS (polycystic ovary syndrome). It’s pretty much exactly like it sounds. I’ve got one large cyst and a bunch of tiny pre-cyst formations on my ovaries. My oldest sister had the same thing, but she experienced pain and other issues, so she had a hysterectomy. I haven’t been having pain, so I’m going the medication route.

My meds KILL my stomach because I’m not used to them yet. Even taking them with a meal only slightly lessens the problem. It’s not as bad as when I first started taking them, but it’s still a nuisance. Tomorrow I get to start taking the main pill two times a day rather than once, so I will enjoy another long period of feeling like some evil little digestive-tract-dwelling elf is in there burning out the lining of my stomach with a blow torch. Happy fun times!

That’s where I’ve been. It’s not an excuse, but it’s been very difficult to be positive when I’ve been dealing with copays and deductibles and bitchass doctors with their heads up their asses. All I’ve felt like doing is whining, so I’ve not really been doing anything at all.

The only things that have been keeping me sane is playing Mafia Wars on facebook and rereading a bunch of novels that I had boxed away.

(and not in the good way)

Monday – came home sick from work.
Tuesday – still felt like shit, but went to work
Wednesday – felt a bit better, but work sucked
Thursday – felt okay, but work sucked even more
Friday – woke up feeling like someone had beaten me with a stick while I was sleeping. Came home to take a bath and relax, had neck/back/shoulder intersection seize up.

It’s, um, rather difficult to do anything at all but stay frozen in one position and not move ever. Which I can’t handle. I am going CRAZY and it’s only been a couple of hours.

so, yeah. My weekend is pretty much guaranteed to be a wash.

I have been using this Tag a lot more than I would like.

Okay, I probably wouldn’t go that far.

Blackmail would not be out of the question, though.

Why can’t all of the items I need and want in my new apartment just magically appear there, so I don’t have to actually move them?

That would be really, really nice.