Oh, how life has changed. Honestly... I wish I could be 9 again for the time being. I wish my parents took me to Disney World and all I had on my mind was to decide between going on Space Mountain or Splash Mountain. That's it. Nothing else. But wishing is silly.
I just feel so adult-like. Well, I feel like I've been thrusted into adult-like circumstances, forcing me to act like an older, adult-like figure rather than the still-learning-how-to-be-mature 19 year old that I truly am.
The day I had to be rushed off to the Emergency Room changed my entire life around. It was instantaneously rearranged in every aspect. I can't believe I spent 7 or 8 straight days drugged up on vicodin to get at least some pain relief from the excruciating pain I felt radiating in both sides of my abdomen area. I can't believe how fast I spiraled into depression. how exhausted I was at every moment of every day, never hoping to wake up the next morning with happiness in my heart because I couldn't see any hope. Any hope of becoming better and getting healthy and pain-free again was slashed every moment I felt a tiny, jagged stone moving through my body making me wish I were dead... causing weariness and suffering that I would never wish upon anyone else...never.
The struggle I have faced and am still facing to be a college student while dealing with this sickness almost made me just one to give up and drop out. To be completely honest, I was so close to wanting to just leave. And I still wonder if I would have been better off if I had... just for the semester... I don't know. I am currently seeking help from my Hixson scholarship program head, Debra Sanborn, to see what she can do to help me with my situation. I also contacted my Adviser, well, my old Adviser but the one that knows me personally and knows my past struggle with this sickness from last year. I'm learning that asking for help is not as easy as you think it would be. But I'm learning that it is necessary at times, especially a time like this. I am seriously so anxious to see what's going to happen these next few days, next couple weeks... I need help, and I am just praying they have mercy on me for this being such a horrible sickness I can't control, and give me some kind of break. I need something to help me out here, desperately.
In a conversation with Nick just the other day, I told him how I came to a place in my heart where I can seriously profess I wouldn't have things any other way. No matter how much physical pain I've foregone, no matter how weary I have become, no matter how much it sucks and I hate it... I cannot say I wish it were different. Not really. I know this is what God has chosen for me to go through, and I know I am not alone. I know my faith will get me through all of this, God never fails us. I know that in my heart. I trust that.
I had an ultrasound today at McFarland Clinic with a nice lady named Wendy in the Radiology department. No... I don't have a bun in the oven. My doctor ordered the ultrasound to check what is going on inside of me, see if I have anything else going on besides kidney stones, possibly gallstones or other things of that nature. She took tons of photos, it took a good half an hour, longer than any other ultrasound I've had (this was my fourth). Usually I've just gotten my kidneys and bladder looked at, but she looked at a ton of organs, some that I can't even remember. I do remember pancreas, gallbladder, and kidneys... but yeah, I don't know there were a lot. Nick came with me to the appointment and it helped calm my nerves. Being around doctors and anything medical makes me uneasy and nervous because I have a great distrust in doctors that goes very far back in my past.
I have an appointment with a Urologist tomorrow at 2:30. I am looking forward to the possibility of actually DOING something about my kidney stone problem, but I am also not looking forward to this meeting at all. I am going to it alone and I have never done that... ever. I don't know this doctor and they don't know me. So I have to tell them the ENTIRE story beginning from when I got my first stone attack at the age of 13. I am afraid I won't sufficiently explain my story or that I'll forget things or accidentally leave something out. It's hard to remember everything that has happened. I basically have no idea what's going to happen at this appointment and that makes me nervous.
All of these things just make me feel like I am much older than I really am. And I'm not sure I like that. Not yet. Alas, that is where I find myself.
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