This week's Tuesday Morning's Scribute to 10am:
(Yeah. It's too easy, but also just too hard to resist.)Note: Thinking ahead,
this was my scribble-prediction
before the treatment,
which was sheer spine-ripping hell.
But I can say, slightly cringing,
it still applies.
It's just now,
I'm honestly filled with more of a feeling of sorrow
for that ex-boss than anything else.
And that is the truth.
And that's the last I'll ever say on that.
Got some updates at itp wtf for those keeping up with this whole thing. And I'm starting a new blog as a storage-house for positive research bits for anyone like me searching for "What To Do to Get Better with ITP." The more I look around for information, support, or tips, the more I've found ITP is such a shruggable unknown, and it's hard to find any positive notes on it. People are scared. And trust me, so am I. This disorder is flat-out terrifying. With ITP, the only thing that is sure is that you are out of control, in the hands of a doctor, and "ITP Happens." I thought I was compassionate before, but empathy pain apparently can stretch your soul as wide as the sky. ITPer's need daily headcandy just to get past the steroids alone. Besides, whaddya expect. The labmonkie research chemist daughter in me needs to poke around for more info. It's called Very O+. Yeah, I'm gooby. You knew that!
By the way, have I told you today you're awesome? Awww. Well. Ya are. Say "Thank you, Valium." He's so sweet. Smooch.
Special smooches to Tara, Bushra, Meredith, PasteBomb, Bart/Mamie/Hannah, and The Angry Czeck (whom I applaud for his unsurmountable surliness and abilities to read through my painful haiku-style soy-jerky posts, so you see, it is my Tao to only add this level of frustration to your supreme angriness, but you don't have to thank me).
1 comment:
Hey, girlie! So good to see you posting again. Just read your post over at the other blog, and all I can say is daaaaammmmn! You faced some real medieval torture crap, and I'm so sorry to hear it. My own stint in the hospital nine years ago left me with the same kind of mixed feelings: From "Oh my god, these people have no idea what they're doing. The treatment for pre-term labor involves having me lie nearly upside down?" Versus the gratitude and appreciation for all the nurses who were there on Christmas Day and New Year's Day and especially the nurse who took time to wash my hair. Makes me nearly cry today just thinking about that. The bottom line: Hospitals suck, and I'm so glad you're out, and I hope you're done with that, and I hope and pray that this treatment works. Can't wait to talk to you again soon, and please tell your mom thank you for calling me with updates.
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