So I read this article on CNN that made me want to impale someone. I refuse to even link this article because it made me so mad. It’s about visualization… and how you can cure yourself. Yeah. The man who “did it” described it as seeming “woo-woo” and “Southern-Californian”. Yeah Yeah. I call it “moronic”, “dangerous”, and “hey-your-life-sucks-lets-try-this-last-ditch-effort-right-after-the-native-american-shaman”.
This guy had bladder cancer. He went into remission. It came back. He “cured himself” by VISUALIZING a healthy “cream-colored bladder lining”. He’s back in remission. Hand of god? Yeah maybe. Aliens? Maybe. But doctors everywhere, as well as myself are screaming “People, GET TREATMENT TOO”. So many end-of-your-rope people are going to opt for this instead of modern day science. If you’re dying… go for it… if you’re not… give treatment a chance too.
So yesterday was hellish. Rough. Like I spent the day/night with a panic attack. Like I called my parents crying rough. Like I wanted an ambulance rough. Those who know me? CALLING MY DAD CRYING. Yeah. ROUGH. My stomach was in near constant (on a 1-10 scale: 9) pain. Peeing? Yeah… I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to pee my meds. I was just all over tired. My whole body hurt. It was like 2007-08 all over again.
So, I was talked out of the ambulance since my hospital is highland park… going back to Condell would not help me seeing as how my doc can’t get there. But I do have an appointment-ish-lets-yell-at-Sarah on Monday and enough drugs to last me the millennium.
For some reason, on top of my other symptoms, my face is swelling up. Particularly my eyes and chin. I think it’s a reaction to one of the antibiotics… since it happened last time too. I think I’m just going to tell everyone I got botox. Today is going to be interesting. My stomach is rebelling. My body feels like how it used to after a night in a mosh pit. My head is swimming (and I haven’t even taken the *fun* drugs yet). I’m tired.
I’m also generally mad. Kind of miffed at my ex-husband. Yesterday I got home and tried to go to sleep. Tim had Noodle. He KNEW I was in the hospital all night. He KNEW I was sleeping. But regardless he called my phone 4 times to wake me up around 9 am. You know. 2 hours after I fell asleep. Why? Apparently Noodle turned off his work alarm. I literally was like “Okay, why do I need to know this? I’m sleeping!” He then showed up with Noodle at 1ish. Apparently he was going into work anyway. He decided to drop her off with me, who was not only sicker than a dog, sleep deprived and on many a narcotic. You know, instead of calling off work, or getting his roommate or someone else as a sitter. I was just like “really?”. I figured well hey, maybe he’d pick her up after work so I could get a break, and you know. REST. HEAL? Nope. I asked him if he was working today and he said “maybe”. No offer to pick up Noodle. Nothing.
So I spent yesterday laying down, crying, and dozing while my daughter chanted “I’m mad, I want to go to Daddy’s”. Yeah that made me feel real good.
You know. I know he’s not supposed to care about me. But he should however, care about his daughter. I was in no position to take good care of her. Mentally or Health wise. But it’s not his problem on his kid-free days.