This has not been the most fun blog to read lately, I know. I apologize for that--life has just been a bit challenging and this is where I go to spew about it. (Well gee, now that I wrote it as spewing, I am sure you're more eager than ever to read it. . . )
My doctor's appointment is in 90 minutes (finally). I have my list ready. Heaven knows, I am ready.
I am a frustrated woman, I must admit. The ankle and foot pain HAS improved, thank goodness, but honestly, last night it took me almost two hours to get to sleep because I would lay there, and one by one, my joints would hurt. First one ankle, then the other. First one shoulder and then the other. And my back and hips ached terribly. If I tried to roll over, I would gasp the whole time. I dread having to get up to go to the bathroom. I just want to fall into bed and shut down for some hours. Joseph and I's bed is a sanctuary . . . a place to go to for refuge, relaxation, comfort, security. In recent weeks, I feel my worst in bed, struggling to find a comfortable position to sleep in and then STAY THERE until morning. I am sure I am sleeping about 4-5 hours a night tops, which helps nothing of course. I find myself being bitchy during the day. Yesterday, I went upstairs, laid down on the bed with a heat pack, and just CHILLED (yes, I know heat--cold, I get it.) I felt like I would snap otherwise.
So yeah, I'm ready. I'm ready to be able to work all day without having to work around pain. I am ready to tackle the new year with energy and hope and confidence.
Gee, that poor doctor has no idea what she is in for when she walks into the room today. Poor woman.