I Need Coldstone
I was perusing youtube.com because I'm not all that familiar with it and it's pretty crazy what all is posted on there. I found one of me and Kristen’s songs and wanted to post it, but I don't know how. So if anyone knows...
Today has been pretty taxing. I had my stomach scoped, but watch- they still won't be able to solve the mystery. My insipid doctor said everything looked normal and the biopsy results would be back in 10-14 days. He has the bedside manner of a low-fat reduced-sodium saltine cracker.
If going through that doesn't help find out what the heck is wrong, I'll tear my hair out. First, I went all by myself and the video they made me watch last time had me pretty freaked out. I sat in the waiting room with hardcore country people that couldn't stop talking about death and who has gotten beat by their husband. I guess it really is a country thing because my mom can talk about the most inappropriate subjects anytime, anywhere- like the dinner table. Seriously, how do you make the people sitting 2 inches away from you listen to you LOUDLY tell an old woman how you saw whoever slam her in her pregnant stomach with a shopping cart and then hear her respond that whoever was drunk and didn't make a habit of beating on her. N-I-C-E! It was like trying to ignore a charanga group in a white padded room!
I put on a robe, they tucked me in a stretcher, started an I.V., and then they wheeled me into the room where Dr. Dull and his team of nurses were waiting. I was kind of having fun with the heart monitor, noticing that I could control my own heart rate with how much I stressed. It would beep when I let it drop below 50. They sprayed the back of my throat with the most disgusting thing I have EVER tasted. Twice. It was like carbonated ass. It numbed up the back of my throat and I could barely swallow... it made me feel a little panicky. Then came the drugs. The last thing I remember is them putting the mouth strap on. I woke up in recovery feeling groggy with a sore throat. I slept for a very long time after Chris drove me home.
I've been begging my mom to come stay with me. I was livid about some stuff earlier and called her up. I can be shaking with anger and either she or my dad can say exactly what I need to hear. Chris tries, but he can only do so much with 2 years of experience- my parents have nearly 22. My parents- my foundation. I can't tell my dad how freaking much I really miss him because then he'd be even more depressed about me being gone. I wish anyone in my family would visit. It can be so damn lonely here. When I get stressed out, I feel a hundred times more isolated. It's easy for me to make acquaintances that I hang out with from time to time. I've met a lot of people that I think are absolutely fun. But, for some reason, close friends are few and far between. I haven't got anyone that I confide in anymore. Chris thinks I don't let people in, but I think everyone else just already has an established group of close knit friends. I refuse to inject myself into the other people’s lives. I want good things to happen naturally.
Today has been pretty taxing. I had my stomach scoped, but watch- they still won't be able to solve the mystery. My insipid doctor said everything looked normal and the biopsy results would be back in 10-14 days. He has the bedside manner of a low-fat reduced-sodium saltine cracker.
If going through that doesn't help find out what the heck is wrong, I'll tear my hair out. First, I went all by myself and the video they made me watch last time had me pretty freaked out. I sat in the waiting room with hardcore country people that couldn't stop talking about death and who has gotten beat by their husband. I guess it really is a country thing because my mom can talk about the most inappropriate subjects anytime, anywhere- like the dinner table. Seriously, how do you make the people sitting 2 inches away from you listen to you LOUDLY tell an old woman how you saw whoever slam her in her pregnant stomach with a shopping cart and then hear her respond that whoever was drunk and didn't make a habit of beating on her. N-I-C-E! It was like trying to ignore a charanga group in a white padded room!
I put on a robe, they tucked me in a stretcher, started an I.V., and then they wheeled me into the room where Dr. Dull and his team of nurses were waiting. I was kind of having fun with the heart monitor, noticing that I could control my own heart rate with how much I stressed. It would beep when I let it drop below 50. They sprayed the back of my throat with the most disgusting thing I have EVER tasted. Twice. It was like carbonated ass. It numbed up the back of my throat and I could barely swallow... it made me feel a little panicky. Then came the drugs. The last thing I remember is them putting the mouth strap on. I woke up in recovery feeling groggy with a sore throat. I slept for a very long time after Chris drove me home.
I've been begging my mom to come stay with me. I was livid about some stuff earlier and called her up. I can be shaking with anger and either she or my dad can say exactly what I need to hear. Chris tries, but he can only do so much with 2 years of experience- my parents have nearly 22. My parents- my foundation. I can't tell my dad how freaking much I really miss him because then he'd be even more depressed about me being gone. I wish anyone in my family would visit. It can be so damn lonely here. When I get stressed out, I feel a hundred times more isolated. It's easy for me to make acquaintances that I hang out with from time to time. I've met a lot of people that I think are absolutely fun. But, for some reason, close friends are few and far between. I haven't got anyone that I confide in anymore. Chris thinks I don't let people in, but I think everyone else just already has an established group of close knit friends. I refuse to inject myself into the other people’s lives. I want good things to happen naturally.