It’s 4 AM here and I’m up listening to a webinar on phenols, aldehydes and ketones for my aromatherapy class. I can’t seem to find enough time in the day for myself, so I’m making time by getting up at 4. It gives me an hour to myself before I have to get kids up for school. Just sipping my coffee and catching up with you guys. Tomorrow (or today?) is my second appointment with the new psychiatrist. I haven’t received my referral to ECT in the mail or heard from him about it. I really wish he wasn’t dragging his feet about this, and I hope this doesn’t mean he’s not on board with it. I don’t care if he agrees with it or not, it’s what I want and need, I don’t want to switch docs, but I will. I’m ready to stroll in there today and put up a good argument for it. A little continuity of care in my life would be great, the bad thing about switching docs every time we move is they think they have to see it all for themselves. I don’t have time for that shit. Read my records, listen to me as a person with valid opinions and go with it. My mom even offered to go in there with me. I don’t know, she’d have to miss work, but a second voice telling him I just want to be a functional person again, and that I haven’t been for years, may be beneficial. I’m worried she will flake, so I am not getting my hopes up. I’ve got family willing to help me do this, this is my chance, I don’t see another opportunity to do this in my future, with the move coming to Washington and all.
The upcoming disability hearing has me tossing and turning, it may be why I am really up in the middle of the night. I have all my hopes and dreams for the future hinged upon the positive outcome of two different things completely out of my hands, the hearing and the ECT. If one of them falls through or doesn’t work I’m f&#@ed. I need a backup plan, something to ease my worries and give me an out. I’m hoping that’s where the aromatherapy class comes in, hoping there’s a future there. Although I would be perfectly happy working at Subway, a nice little aromatherapy shop, working at the counter would be nice. Nothing stressful, no making blends myself but a little cash register and some lotions and potions on the shelf that I know about, it might be nice. I’m not about to set up shop on my own but maybe I can work for someone else, someone mellow and earthy. Dreaming here, I know, but in an ideal world.
I know my moods not well when I go on WebMD to see what I’m dying from. I’m a little embarrassed that I told my MD that my pancreas was eating me from the inside out, but she took it in stride and checked my panels. I truly deeply (madly) believed that was happening. I’ve moved on to other venues now, silent myocardial infarctions and kidney failure. The idea I have is that I am not actually fat, I’m in kidney failure and it’s all retained fluid. In my mind I know it’s not true, just like I know there are not cameras everywhere, but a piece of me does believe. Speaking of the cameras, they are bothering me again. I’m struggling to relax in front of a camera, can’t pick my nose in the car or anything. Showering is difficult and as I’m having a hard time being naked, I haven’t weighed myself the right way. I’m up two pounds with clothes on and that’s discouraging. It’s not out of control yet, I’m not duct taping cracks and holes yet but public bathrooms are out of the question.