better day
Monday wasn't as bad as I predicted. My new Doctor seems okay... not as personable as Dr. Lane (or Ringwald, or Sanders, for that matter), but a decent guy. He ordered some bloodwork and told me to see him in three weeks. If it's something like anemia or diabetes, he can help me get that squared away. If nothing shows up on the tests, I get a referral from him to see a neurologist. Meanwhile, I'm supposed to be carrying around a little notebook to record symptoms and times, so he can understand better what's going on and look for patterns. Non too shabby. I don't even remember squirming much for the phlebotomy; all I remember is this little stress ball brain thing on the cart, which I made sing "I Only Have a Brain" to my beloved Liam.
Even officially quitting my job was pretty painless. My last day is the 24th. I've gotta quit being such a drama queen about everything in advance. Life really isn't as scary as I sometimes make it out to be.
Honestly, health issues aside, life is pretty damned good right now. (For starters, I just realized I'm not on a Huntington computer, so I can say things like "life is pretty damed good right now.") Mom and Dad are coming up in a couple weeks, and offered to take Liam and me out to some really nice Mexican joint that Grandma and Grandpa do business with. Uncle Dick is marrying a truly outstanding woman. I've gotten to talk to Annette a great deal more than usual lately, and I'm finding myself increasingly happy for her that her and Jacob's wedding plans are proceeding nicely. I'm finally at peace with the idea. And in a few short minutes, Liam will be here to swoop me up and whisk me away for a lovely evening of snuggling and watching Frasier. Sure, I'm a little anxious about health shit, but I don't want to ever convince myself again that I've got it bad.
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