I’ve been trying to write this all morning, but I can’t seem to wrap my head around it. It’s about doctors and diagnosis and treatment and meds and I don’t know what else.
People in the know tell me it can take another year before I have a firm diagnosis and treatment plan in place. After waiting nearly three decades you’d think another year would be nothing. But it’s not nothing.
I feel exhausted. I feel numb and sick, and it’s turning into one of those days when I start wondering, “What’s the fucking point?” But I’ll get over it and get on with it. I’ll trudge forward just like I always do.