new doctor!
I went to a new doctor yesterday, which is great considering I haven't had one outside of the Austin Regional Clinic in years. the clinic is fine for when you have a cold, but the fast-food/revolving door style of care is no good for bigger issues. I really like the new doctor, she asks lots of questions and is observant and funny. she also is thoughtful when writing anything my insurance provider will see, to make sure things will be covered. I go friday morning for a full battery of blood testing that she warned would be a 3 hour ordeal. this is my nightmare, as apparently my veins are minuscule or ironclad and most phlebotomists have to torture me to get any juice out. anyway, the doctor seems to think most of my recent issues match a particular syndrome, and is positive we can improve things. I will know more in a few weeks, and that is a relief!
I'm trying to wrap my head around this, because for 15 years now my (wonderful, amazing) mom has been telling me there's something wrong with me (in her blunt, unsympathetic style) and I have been hearing it the wrong way and been taking it personally. Now I have pulled my head out of the proverbial sand and see she may be right, and more importantly, it might not all be my fault. I mean, yes, the Fiesta Burger at Dairy Queen doesn't help, but it is not the sole cause of my issues. I hope.
I finally got around to asking my boss for one day off a week to spend on my own work and house-hunting, and here my first upcoming day off will be spent bleeding slowly into tubes, and then probably going to work anyway. I don't like this at all, but we do what we must because we are women who can't say no.
I'm trying to wrap my head around this, because for 15 years now my (wonderful, amazing) mom has been telling me there's something wrong with me (in her blunt, unsympathetic style) and I have been hearing it the wrong way and been taking it personally. Now I have pulled my head out of the proverbial sand and see she may be right, and more importantly, it might not all be my fault. I mean, yes, the Fiesta Burger at Dairy Queen doesn't help, but it is not the sole cause of my issues. I hope.
I finally got around to asking my boss for one day off a week to spend on my own work and house-hunting, and here my first upcoming day off will be spent bleeding slowly into tubes, and then probably going to work anyway. I don't like this at all, but we do what we must because we are women who can't say no.