It's almost Christmas, I just can't believe it. I absolutely adore the holidays, I think it's something to do with my love language being "gifts"... Anyway, I got to frolic a bit last night in the rain, skipping from store to store finding the perfect Christmas gifts for each person on my list, checking off items one by one, feeling wonderfully productive and glorious all at once. Was that the scene?
No, no no. Last night I could hardly keep my eyes open. I love the holidays, but they're killing me. I have too much to do, too much stress, and not enough time. I wanted a nap so badly last night it was going to eat me alive. I even laid down for about five minutes with the lights off, just to torment myself that much more. As I began to drift off with dreams of sugar plum fairies dancing in my head, I squashed them with the thought of my "To Do List". Very messy.
I attempted to put on my most comfortable jeans, the ones that I bought back in my "not so fit" phase, to the joyous feeling of "suck it in, let's do this"... Yes, even my fat jeans are tight, friends. I've been wearing jeans with holes in them a lot more frequently now a days. Holes where the belt loops used to be before I ripped them off the ump-teenth time I tried to pull the waist up over my adorable little pudge. For a girl who knows pregnancy won't be an easy feat, it's really mean how 5 months pregnant I look right now. I threw on an over sized sweatshirt to cover...well, everything...and ran out the door.
The rain is usually alright with me, I even like it. It's a needed change in this sunny state I live in. Those Christmases of the past that felt like a summer vacation sort of left me wanting something more. So I love it when it's a little gloomy and grey around Christmas time. But last night the puddle outside of my truck door was taunting me. I really think the puddle was there to spite me. I stepped in approximately 7 puddles over the course of my four hour shopping spectacle last night. Each one a little deeper and colder than the last. And each one adding to the sog I was accumulating in my borrowed pair of socks (thanks baby, you know you love me...)
I managed to maintain a little holiday cheer as I drove from one shopping center to the other, merely because of the Christmas music that I found on the radio. If I would have had to listen to hip hop or top 40 last night that would have been it. No one would be seeing this menopausal muffin on Christmas morning. I'd go into hibernation, mostly to save my family from "the wrath". But I took some deep breathes and listened to Nat King Cole make me remember what it's all about. And I drove on. About $400 later and only two people being knocked off my list, I started to get concerned. Not only because I was having trouble shopping for "the list" and not "myself"...but because a very familiar and daunting pain was creeping up. I started having trouble standing up straight- something I've gotten far too used to. But I wasn't about to go home with TWO people marked off the list. So I kept going, only to find that keeping going is like spitting in the face of endometriosis. Have you noticed that? It's like endo has some sort of spiteful personality. "Oh yeah? You wanna shop? You think you're stronger than me? Well here, have a little ovary pain. And maybe a touch of diaphragmatic endometriosis to remind you every minute of every day. Oh, and you're still walking? Well fine, I'll add some gas pain and trouble breathing to the repertoire." What a jackass.
I finally made it home, in one soggy and disgruntled piece. I got most of what I needed, and a little too much extra. But didn't leave myself much time for chores and sleep. After laundry, kitchen cleaning, and finishing a little arts and crafts that I needed to do, I ended up in bed around 12:30am. I had to wake up this morning at 6 again... I'm sleepy.
Numero uno problem with the tiredness right now is that I have my MRI in about 4 hours. I am a "twitcher". Do you know us? We're the ones who smack you in the forehead on the airplane right when we're dosing off. Chronic twitch does not work well with "still environments" like an MRI for instance. When I'm as tired as I am right now, I can fall asleep anywhere they let me lie down. Yep, I've fallen asleep in an MRI, CT Scan, ambulance, physical therapy, you name it. I fell asleep "stretching" with my personal trainer once. I was training really hard though, very tired. In any case, I'm worried I'm going to twitch in the machine and they'll never be able to finish my stupid MRI. I'll be doing those images for hours. "Amy, please hold still" ... "What? Where am I? Oh, sorry- slipped off there for a bit". Over and over and over again. This could get ugly.
The Lie of ‘Do It While You’re Young’: Why Every Decade Can Be Your Best
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3 comments:
Hey-there is insanity here and I can't read the whole entry-just hope your MRI went well and I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas!
When will you get the results of your MRI?
Found your blog a few days ago. Is your MRI focused on the pituitary? I ask because many of your symptoms sound like Cushing's Disease, which is very often misdiagnosed or undiagnosed as many doctors don't understand it at all.
Also, know that just because a radiaologist doesn't see a tumor on your pituitary doesn't mean it's not there. I have two children who have had pituitary surgery for Cushing's. My son's MRI was read as normal until I sent it to a skilled neurosurgeon, who spotted a tumor. But even he only saw part of the tumor. When he did the surgery on both my kids the tumors were barbell shaped and that hadn't shown on the MRI. So they aren't real reliable.
Good luck.
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