It's only natural for things to come full circle, so I shouldn't be surprised that I'm sitting here in bed, shaky, nauseated, tired, and achy, just like when I first started to feel sick. I've been through this incredibly long process of actually finding good doctors and getting diagnosed, and here at the end of my "medical-mystery" phase (and the beginning of the PCOS meds phase), I seem to feel even worse than I did two years ago.
I am sure that things are going to be just fine. My body will adjust to all the meds, my various organs will start performing their proper duties, and eventually I'll be able to function just like a normal person, instead of making weak attempts to leave the house and having to sit down every few minutes instead of managing a walk through the mall like a normal person.
You may be able to tell I'm a little grumpy. I do normal things each day. Being sick isn't stopping me from saving babies or climbing Everest, but it is stopping me from doing the important things: doing laundry, shopping, taking care of Tim, rocking my job, and seeing the people I love. It's taken me until today to get Tim a present and give him a birthday dinner, and I barely managed that.
I need to start blogging during the day again—these late-night posts are sounding really whiny.