aproclivity

My note from the universe today said:

When "bad" things happen to "good" people, Kim, it's often because they want to become even better teachers, guides, and helpers to those precious souls who will one day need them to be their rock.

Plus, today's bad is always tomorrow's boon, no matter who you are, no matter what has happened, and no matter how weak the coffee was.


I'm tired of bad things happening to good people, even if my position as a good person is always up for debate. I'm tired of dealing with this shit. I can legitimately barely move today, and I'm having a hard time even holding up my laptop. My arms and chest and legs just... don't want to move. It's like I'm needing to force the muscles and nerves double and triple hard to work together to form a cohesive bond. It's like there's this huge disconnect between everything in my body, and it's taking longer and longer to send signals between them.

And it hurts. It hurts so fucking much. It hurts to talk, to yell, to sing, to lift up anything, to type, to walk, to eat, to sigh, to sleep. All I want to do is sleep, but it hurts even to do that. Typing hurts and worse it's hard. Normally I can type in my bloody sleep, but right now... right now it's painful to press my fingers into the keys and it takes so long. Normally I type between 80-100 words a minute. Right now I'm probably averaging forty or so.

I'm still stuttering. It's worse later at night when I'm tired. It's so funny how the pain and the stuttering are connected. When one is worse, the other is worse too. It sucks. And I have to fucking pack and move in the next week and I have no idea how to do it. I don't think I should go back to school. I'm going, there's no doubt about that, but I really don't know if I should. I'm just gonna have to keep trying.

Ugh, keep trying. I'm so sick of needing to do that. I want things to be easy and smooth sailing. I just want everything to work. The speech therapist wants me to go to Boston, but I need to see my PCP before we can do it. I see her on Friday, which was the first appointment she had even though I called her on last bloody Monday when things started to get bad.

Keep getting worse. I'm very worried. I'm not like suicidal or anything, but like... I'm not having a good feeling of time at the moment. I'm sure it sounds melodramatic, but given how things have progressed in the last week... I think you'd feel the same way.

I'm home it sucks. I want my kitty. I want to breathe.

So hot. Can't breathe. Going to Italian anyway.

So yeah, so awake right now. I do not have a brain tumor! So, in other words "it's not a tumah!" *Said of course in a total Anhuld voice. Instead, I have hypothyroidism and a vitamin D deficiency. So, yeah, simple blood test, pills and in a few days I should be feeling awesome again. Well, by awesome I mean my normal self. My vitamin D was so low that they couldn't even detect it. So, I'm on pills and was told to "go out into the sunshine for christ sake." My goal? To sit in the sun while I smoke my whole clove. Two birds, one stone. Anyway, yeah. Not dying, not killing. Drinking vodka energy drinks so I will likely be up for a while. Fail. Long day. School in T-10. Woohoo.

Heard from the Doctor, and they want to see me to go over the 25 tests they did. Friday at 7:30 in the morning. Or earlier. WTF?

I am...practically homicidal at the moment. This is fucking absurd. So, in April, I went to the Doctor complaining of the same old story that you guys have already heard. I've been dealing with loss of muscle control, loss of cognitive functions, losing words, my hands clamping up, having severe muscle tremors and being overly tired constantly despite how much I do or do not sleep. It was so bad I actually visited a doctor, which is something I hate most in the world. She thought I had sleep appenia and set me up for a sleep study. The first sleep study date was in July. The 14th of July to be exact. I know they told me that I didn't stop breathing and everything was all normal, but if this was the reason everything was supposed to be happening, the next step would be something like calling me.

It wasn't. She got the report and signed off on it THE DAY AFTER THE TEST. She got it the fucking next day and signed it and NEVER CALLED ME WITH ANYTHING, NEVER CHECKED IN TO MAKE SURE THAT I WAS ABLE TO USE MY HANDS PROPERLY OR WALK WITHOUT HAVING MY MUSCLES GIVE OUT OR TWITCH OR FIND SIMPLE WORDS. But no one did, and it wasn't until I FUCKING CALLED THEM that they set me up an appointment. The appointment isn't even until next week which means none of this shit is going to be dealt with until after I go back to school. I'm so fucking livid you don't even know.

So, I called the doctor's office yesterday and today to see when the fuck I'm supposed to have the sleep test. They ended up finally calling me back and telling me that they'll be calling me tomorrow (one week from when I've seen the doctor) with the study day which will probably be at least a month away which means at least five weeks before we hear whether or not this is what's wrong with me. So, at least five more weeks of this. I don't know if I can deal with it. Fuck, I'm crying. I hate this.

I don't know what happened. I can't stop coughing. I've taken a double dose of the cold stuff and I still can't stop, so I can't sleep. God fucking damn it!

I broke my tea/soup cup with tea in it. It cracked and exploded while it was coming out of the microwave leaving me nothing to make tea in. Fail. I now have no tea and no cup to make more. I hate my life, and my throat hates me.

So, the small sore throat that I had earlier has now bloomed into really ow of a sore throat, and I think I may have a fever and swollen glands. This sucks; this sucks ass.