When your doctor sighs and says he’s sorry

When your doctor sighs and says he’s sorry…
Then you have to know your appointment is not going to go as well as you had hoped.
Yesterday when i woke up, I found that my entire right side was in agony.

Added to that, I realised I could not move my right hand properly. I couldn’t close it or open it reliably, and I didn’t seem able to hold anything in it.
Not to panic, just go back to sleep. This is what I told myself and this is what I did.
Hours later, still in pain and distressed that my sugar was struggling to come much above 4 (again, we want it at around 6…even 7 after eating, which I had) I dragged my miserable self to my doctor.
This is the hallway where I waited to be seen.

Behind these doors were the answers. Or so I had hoped.

What I got was a sympathetic hand rub. And a sigh. And a, “I’m sorry, but I just…don’t know what else to do.”
One day I’ll talk about the diagnoses- multiple- all of which are theoretical shots in the dark, because the bottom line is that I remain a medical mystery. But that day is not today; it can’t be. I just can’t, today.
I give myself until the weekend to rally back, but for right now I’m going to sit here in the shallow end of self pity and swish my legs around a bit. I won’t go all the way in. Just a little bit of toe dipping and suchlike, as I try to gather my strength and my faith about me for the fight ahead.

BS&S- Bad News Cookies
I have no idea what’s in store, but I know one HECK of a blog will be born from it. Perhaps even several hecks of blogs? We’ll see how it all plays out.
Courage friends.
Courage Natz.
And just for today…all the cookies you could possibly want.




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