I tried to talk about the exam in therapy on Tuesday. But I couldn't. I mean, I talked enough for her to understand and to see that I was awash in flashbacks, that I was re-living, not remembering. But I couldn't talk about it. And I need to. I realize that even more having watched a show about someone with PTSD. In two weeks, when I go back, I want to try again.
I am weary of living frozen in filth.
My therapist asked me to spend at least 5 minutes a day in positive interaction with another person. Yes, well, I want very much to avoid other people. I do because I feel the fraud. I feel I cannot be me, be as I am, and so I pretend that all is well. I have so very little in me to pretend. It is exhausting and too many other things in my life are exhausting.
Wednesday, I had my kidney function tests, which were, for once, better. The hard part about this is that I have been off of Celebrex for a month, now. I am quite worried that I will not be able to go back on Celebrex once I finish the prednisone. As of now, I do not have a post-prednisone pain management plan. I don't know if I will be put on immunosuppressants or if they will work for me the way the prednisone is. I just know the rheumatologist does not believe that I should remain on prednisone long term.
More waiting.
Friday morning, I had a missed call from one of the cardiology nurses. When I called back, I absolutely lost it, in my very soul, when she told me that the note on my chart was that I just need to schedule the MRI.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
I'd been hearing for over a month about how my cardiologist was working on getting the appointment scheduled! I was floored and it took everything I had not to start yelling in protest. I did say that this was insane. And after questioning I was to make an appointment for a few minutes longer, I hung up.
It was a long while before I was calm enough to try calling Parkview Scheduling. In a nutshell, after much time on the call, I learned that the obstacle was that the paperwork by my cardiologist documenting that I was able to have an MRI was not in my chart. Paperwork that could have been done any time between my appointment last January and now! I lost it again, even as I thanked the scheduler for getting the MRI department to finally say why it was that I still could not make an appointment.
I asked to have my cardiologist call me.
He did not.
No one did.
I still do not have an appointment.
Still at my wits end over the MRI runaround that I've been dealing with for months and months and months, I headed to my monthly GP appointment, worried about discussing the kidney tests results and relieved that I would be able to talk with her about other things I am battling. Imagine my dismay when I learned that I had missed my appointment, it being at 3:00 PM, not 4:00.
I was stunned.
And devastated.
And distraught.
I turned white and started battling pre-syncope as my pacemaker began to start its prodding. The receptionist looked at me and then went to talk to my GP. She is off on Tuesdays, bust staid that she would meet me at the office in the afternoon if I were free then. "Of course!" I answered. However, I immediately felt stupid for getting the time wrong and for bringing my GP in on her day off. I wanted to say that I would just wait until December, but I couldn't get those words out of my mouth. Instead, I asked to have my gratitude passed to my GP for creating another appointment for me.
So, today, I determined to follow my therapist's other suggestion: do something physical that engages the senses and pay attention to the latter whilst doing so. You know how much I like to DO SOMETHING from time to time. I decided that my something would be refilling my larder with sweets and snacks.
I was able to make these cranberry muffins without eating one. All twelve went into the refrigerator!
I LOVE ME some deviled eggs! These are a bit mustardly, but I do not mind.. One of these days, I am going to work on just how much mayo and mustard and sweet pickle relish I like and write down a recipe so that I have a guide. Still, I've never made a deviled egg I wouldn't eat. Readily!
I set out all the eggs that I would be using, dividing them according to recipe. I had the butter and the single egg that I needed for the cookies on the counter with the mix box. However, I whipped them up on the other counter. The counter where the two eggs I needed for my beloved baked oatmeal were sitting.
Two eggs in a one egg mix make for super flat, cake-like cookies.
SIGH.
I have spent over three decades ruining chocolate chip cookies, be they from a mix or made from scratch. I have never made a proper cookie. This was a chocolate chunk mix that I was certain would be just lovely, being Krusteaz. It was one of my Christmas present mixes from my realtor. I am not looking forward to showing her my mess-up.
At least I have no problem making my beloved baked oatmeal. Again, I put them all into the freezer, save for the one for tomorrow's breakfast that went into the refrigerator. I could eat at least three or four of these every time I make them. And every morning, However, I stick to just one. Funny that I cannot fathom life without baked oatmeal. Two years ago this December my life changed with that simple recipe!!
I am not much of a baker. In part, this is because I do not really understand how the different evening agents work. In part, this is because I oft make mistakes whilst to trying to follow a recipe. In baking, mistakes can be worked around with good results. However, in the precision of baking (the things I adore) precludes making substitutions without serious repercussions.
At least the containers in my freezer for tasty desserts are finally full!
It was good to be productive today, to get something done. I woke, walked on the treadmill, cooled down, showered, and napped. After my nap, I had dinner, fed Amos, and then napped. Two hours later, I awoke and set out to bake my way through the evening.
It was good not to sit in darkness.
Thinking.
Feeling.
Drowning.
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