Today I'll be spending the day at the hospital, having my boobies manhandled and covered in lubricant. This is not as much fun as it sounds, honest! As well as all the manhandling, lubricating and scanning, I'll be pedalling on an exercise bike, hooked up to all sorts of monitors and wearing a mask, until I collapse. Literally until I collapse. That part is maybe more fun than it sounds. Maybe not, it's pretty horrible really, but it's kind of fun to REALLY exercise since it's not something I'm able to do normally. Today I'll have highly trained medical professionals on hand to resuscitate me if I collapse more seriously than they want me to.
Last time I did these tests, about five months ago, it marked the beginning of THE HORROR. The results were not good and the proverbial really hit the fan. If the results are even the tiniest bit worse today, the bullet I've been dodging will be coming to get me right between the eyeballs and I've been finding everything pretty hard lately, puffing and panting and swooning, so I'm preparing myself for the worst while hoping for the best.
The thing is, hoping isn't really what I'm doing at all. I think what I'm doing is wishing. Does "hope" imply some belief that things really might turn out that way? I think it does and I'm lacking that belief. So really I'm wishing that things would be different from how I fear they are. And I don't have much faith in the power of wishing any more. Ugh.
Yes, I'm fed up. The last two-and-a-bit years have been a constant fight and I've been fighting and fighting and fighting for so many things, day-to-day and life-changing things, and sometimes I'm not sure I have enough fight left in me. I've been keeping going and going and going, but I feel like now I need something to go well and just give me a break for a while, something to start feeling hopeful about.
In the meantime, I suppose I'll do my best to enjoy all the lubrication, sweat and masks and, to be honest, I'm up for the fight of the bike test - a short, sharp burst of determination makes a nice change from the constant slog my brand of fighting usually consists of. See? Positivity. Oh, yeah...