A few months ago, I found out a family member, barely 40 years old, had open-heart surgery. Say WHAT, now? Yeah, if anything will make one stop and smell the roses is coming face-to-face with mortality and possible loss... Then there's my impending visit to see what changes, if any, have occurred in Uterine Fibroid Town.
Everyone keeps telling me, "stop with the What-Ifs until you get results" but you know what? I have kids. And debt. And many pending projects. I need to have a plan A, B and C at the ready. If my fibroids have gotten significantly bigger, I will most likely have the myomectomy. Just typing that makes me sad, especially when thinking of the money I spent on naturopaths and holistic counselors to avoid that fate. But I need to be prepared for that outcome; that's how my brain works. I need worst-case scenarios planned out to help me sleep at night. I just need to lose my shit before I can make myself feel better.
So for the next few weeks, if I seem a little less accessible or enthused with what's going on in your life, you'll know why.
Now, please excuse me while I go eat my feelings...fuck a bikini summer: I want empty calories NOW!
*smooches...wishing the weather would get better & fix my mood*
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the sun would definitely lessen my stress levels. BLERG.
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