|you know, limbo.|
So it's back to the cardiologist I go. In less than two weeks, I will repeat an echocardiogram to make sure there is no structural damage that could be causing my mystery symptoms. In my mind, I'm already trying to decide which hospital will host me for my stem cell transplant (somewhere with clean air and very knowledgeable and kind medical staff). While everyone wants to roll their eyes at me, I can't shake the feeling that it still seems inevitable.
The bronchoscopy final results are in (thank you, Dr. L for sharing this information with me). The good news: everything's negative. The bad news: everything's negative. Not that I would enjoy harboring a fungal infection, but I would appreciate some answers. It is so frustrating to visit, call and email doctor after doctor, only to be referred to a different doctor. No explanations, no magic pills, no free lunch in this town, that's for durn sure. I was complaining about this to my brother the other night on the phone, when he reminded me they call it "practicing" medicine for a reason.
I wish I were just conjuring these feelings up - I wish it was all caused by anxiety. But I promised myself I would trust my body, I would listen to the aches and pains instead of ignoring them and deprioritizing myself.
If it were only time that I needed, you'd think insurance would cover that. After all, the cost of daily living is most definitely lower than the cost of chemo and radiation. Alas, no. I have to make a decision about work, and fast, as these summer days do not last forever. I'm stuck here, not wanting to make a decision that could cost me a spot in my school, because maybe all I need is a few more months to heal.
If any of you faithful readers have a crystal ball you can lend me, I think I'd be really good at Divination...