What does the future have in store for me? If only I knew, or had even the smallest inkling of what may lie ahead.

And it’s these thoughts that are keeping me awake tonight, with David snoring next to me, exhausted from working the Browns game tonight after his shift at the hospital and having to get up in 3 hours to go to back to work. At least it’s FRIDAY.

I worry about money. We’re mostly ok. It’s painful not getting a full paycheck. I had to borrow from David’s bank account to pay the mortgage this month, since anesthesia bills and pathology bills from my surgery in July are rolling in. Not to mention our pharmacy license renewals, liability insurance renewals, and professional organization membership renewals all happening at the same time, which is close to $1000 altogether. Our hot water heater has been trying to kick the bucket since April, but we’re trying to hold out long enough to be able to afford the transition to a tankless system. Getting the new roof this spring did a real number on my bank account, followed up by the surgery in Atlanta. We haven’t been this broke since we got married. It’s rather disheartening.

I have an appointment with a rheumatologist in two weeks to get worked up for an inflammatory arthritis of some kind. It hasn’t bothered me in awhile, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t still something going on. So that could be another diagnosis, another pill to take, another condition to monitor.

I worry about my brain surgery in three weeks. The things that could go wrong. The things I hope go right. I would love with all my heart for this to be the final answer in getting me better so I can return to being a normally functioning human being, able to work regularly and able to have babies. Perhaps no more violent headaches or migraines or severe bouts of dizziness?

I wonder what that would be like. To get through a day without a headache of some kind, or without any dizziness. To not have my pelvis feel like a blast furnace from the adenomyosis. I no longer remember what it feels like to be normal. These symptoms have been a part of me for so long it’s hard to imagine my life without them.

Will I really be pain-free? Is that even possible? Dare I dream of it? Dare I dream of being active again? Of being able to leave my house? Of being able to work? Of being able to have a baby?

It all seems too far out of reach to be possible. I’ve been bit before. I don’t want to set myself up for more disappointment now. I’ve already been disappointed more times than I care to think about.

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