Well, I'm off to ANOTHER doctor's appointment. I feel a mix of excitement and trepidation...common feelings for Fibro warriors. Sometimes it seems that doctors are both the answer and the enemy. While I'm looking forward to new treatments & hopefully some measure of relief...I'm not looking forward to being poked & prodded and placed under a microscope (again). On top of it, it's raining...*SIGH* I've come to hate the rain...it magnifies the pain.
My mother decided that she should go with me to this appointment. Again, mixed feelings on my part. I'm glad that she's interested and wants to learn more and be supportive. On the other hand, she seems to feel like she's supposed to administer "tough love". I'm 39 fucking years old, for Mike's sake!!! I think I know when my body is telling me to cut the shit. I really don't need anybody coming at me like a Sunday morning TV evangelist preaching "name it & claim it". Don't get me wrong, I love my mom & appreciate everything she does, but I'm not a freakin' 10 year old with a splinter!!
If I'm up to it this afternoon, I'll post an update on how it went.
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