But I can’t ask her about it…

What I normally do when I have a question about medicine, or health, or organic chemistry for that matter, is call my younger sister.  She’s a veterinarian and a maniac for knowing anything medical, the more obscure and subtle, the better.  She’ll stay up long hours on the phone with me, answering all my questions, teaching me whatever I want to know.  She’s got a gift for teaching the complicated subtle stuff, and for seeing the connections between an odd constellation of symptoms and the cause. I’m sure what’s going on with me is a crisis, despite the fact that the doctors are mostly unimpressed.  You know the docs, I mentioned them… the “You’re not dying. Go home” docs. What I should do is just pick up the phone and call my veterinary sis. I should tell her about my symptoms and ask her what she thinks the problem is.  Especially since…

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Well clearly THAT’S never going to work…

Alrighty then… I guess it’s a real problem.  And I can’t go on ignoring it. Damn it. Fine. FINE. I’m not admitting to being scared or anything… but this is scaring me. Clearly I am not ok. Not that I’m admitting to anything like having a real problem here.  But I look at what the doc says and I think… That’s never going to work. I know it’s never going to work because the only part I can do something about is the food… when I move, I hurt. So I don’t move.  Well, I don’t move nearly enough, and even knowing that moving might be the key to getting better, I don’t move. I’m a smart gal, and I’m stubborn, and I’ve fought through some pretty tough things… but this… I am defeated before I even start.  Move More ain’t happening. Okey dokey then, I’ll start at the other end.  Eat…

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Because … what if it’s really serious?

Some days, I think it might really be.  Serious. Other days, I think I’m fine.  But on the days I’m not fine, I worry that it might be serious. What if it is? What if the fact that I can’t think clearly is really an issue?  That I can’t focus? That I know my brain is not working up to par? What if the fact that I can’t do things like run to catch a door means something is really wrong? What if being on 1450 calories a day – carefully counted – and continuing to put on pounds means something is really, truly wrong? So the doc says… move more, eat less.  More grains, less fat. More turkey, less beef.  Of course he does. The doc says, your hormones are fine, you just need more exercise. The doc says, yes of course your joints hurt, you’re over 50 and overweight….

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