Famous last words from the lab tech Friday. Don't be fooled. While I may not be peeing in glow in the dark colors, to say that my body has been off all weekend would be the understatement of the year. I imagine that this is what having that "not so fresh" feeling must be like.
Anywho, another weekend of insomnia and low energy fun has came and went. The highlight of the weekend was the Baseball Pizza Party that I had with Greg Diasshole. I decided that Round Table Pizza couldn't be that much worse for me that radioactive chemicals, so we got a large pie and some breadsticks and watched Cody Ross go deep twice as the Giants took game 1 from the Phillies in the NLCS. More importantly than the game or the pizza, Greg was the first guest of my own I've had since moving into my grandparents apartment as a result being sick. While the apartment really isn't all that big, and I'm long past the age of wanting to throw ragers in any of my living spaces, it changed the atmosphere of living here. Don't get me wrong, the apartment is nice, comfortable, and I am not complaining about the situation I am lucky enough to be in at this time (because who the fuck knows what I'd be doing without it), but it most definitely isn't my own place, and I wouldn't feel right subjecting my grandparents to the rough and tumble socialization that often is a bi-product to my friends and I being us. It's amazing what a good friend, some junk food, and decent baseball can do to one's PMA.
Other than that, I'm another fun holding pattern of waiting for someone with the answers to find time to let me know what those answers are. Would it kill a hospital to have someone stick around these test sites that can offer insight or even decode data so the sit around and wait while puking time gets cut way down?
Speaking of which, if the HIDA Scan yields no results that lead to action, I have no idea what I am going to do with myself. I have been left to sit around and twiddle my thumbs between bathroom visits since August and I'm at the end of my rope. If all that fucking agony and pain was for nothing, I'm going to need to be put in a straightjacket and locked in a rubber room. Yes ladies, I get that childbaring is gnarly, and I'm not trying to get into a "who's pain is worse" pissing contest, but Friday morning was fucked up. I just now have started to feel all right.
So basically the rest of this week is one giant countdown until Friday at noon. Extreme conditions call for extreme responses, and in this case, I am so sick and stressed that Southern California looks like good times. It will be nice to give myself a break, my grandparents a break, recharge the batteries, and return inspired for getting the new plan in life rolling.
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