HI Y'all.
Today I went shopping. Trying to find something on this god awful blob of a "figure" of mine. If that's what you want to call it. Not that it wasn't horrible before this week, but now the Solumedrol and tapered prednisone doses are already wreaking havoc on my already marshmellowy goodness. This shopping trip was an horrid EPIC FAIL of a trip. I got some stuff but it still looks like utter and complete crap. My boobs are gigantic (don't even know what size anymore - haven't bought a new bra yet) and jiggly. My tummy reminds me of a big dodge ball and my face looks like it ate itself, regurgitated itself right back up and re-ate itself again for dessert.
And of course, b/c of the prednisone taper again, my ankles are swollen from being up shopping for 3 hours and they are sore. To top it off, my back is still hurting, but the medication that the family doctor here in town gave me for the pain has been shot down by the transplant team. Can't take it. Interacts with the steroids. GREAT. So, now I will be pitied with a bit of pain meds come this week for my back. But i have to wait until Monday and call my coordinator back to get relief from this pain.
Tomorrow evening, Chris is supposed to come into town. We are going to Winston to eat dinner for Valentines. (a day early) But hey, look out the window. It's fucking snowing. Great. I hope that doesn't ruin my weekend plans. If it does, it figures. This has been a fucked week.
I'll end this little post by telling you of a wonderfully gratifying experience I had this afternoon when I got home from shopping. I sat down, kicked my feet up to rest my weary, sore and swollen cankles and proceeded to cough. Well, as this wonderful cough errupted from the depths of my shiny new lungs, I promptly pissed myself a little bit. Right through my pants. For serial, ya'lll. There was like a 2-3 inch patch of pee on the cushion of the couch. How rewarding for a day's worth of depression and self hatred. FML.
I'm going to quit having a pity party now. Like I always, say, It' could ALWAYS be worse. and at least I'm still here and breathing! Peace and chicken grease.
Today I went shopping. Trying to find something on this god awful blob of a "figure" of mine. If that's what you want to call it. Not that it wasn't horrible before this week, but now the Solumedrol and tapered prednisone doses are already wreaking havoc on my already marshmellowy goodness. This shopping trip was an horrid EPIC FAIL of a trip. I got some stuff but it still looks like utter and complete crap. My boobs are gigantic (don't even know what size anymore - haven't bought a new bra yet) and jiggly. My tummy reminds me of a big dodge ball and my face looks like it ate itself, regurgitated itself right back up and re-ate itself again for dessert.
And of course, b/c of the prednisone taper again, my ankles are swollen from being up shopping for 3 hours and they are sore. To top it off, my back is still hurting, but the medication that the family doctor here in town gave me for the pain has been shot down by the transplant team. Can't take it. Interacts with the steroids. GREAT. So, now I will be pitied with a bit of pain meds come this week for my back. But i have to wait until Monday and call my coordinator back to get relief from this pain.
Tomorrow evening, Chris is supposed to come into town. We are going to Winston to eat dinner for Valentines. (a day early) But hey, look out the window. It's fucking snowing. Great. I hope that doesn't ruin my weekend plans. If it does, it figures. This has been a fucked week.
I'll end this little post by telling you of a wonderfully gratifying experience I had this afternoon when I got home from shopping. I sat down, kicked my feet up to rest my weary, sore and swollen cankles and proceeded to cough. Well, as this wonderful cough errupted from the depths of my shiny new lungs, I promptly pissed myself a little bit. Right through my pants. For serial, ya'lll. There was like a 2-3 inch patch of pee on the cushion of the couch. How rewarding for a day's worth of depression and self hatred. FML.
I'm going to quit having a pity party now. Like I always, say, It' could ALWAYS be worse. and at least I'm still here and breathing! Peace and chicken grease.
1 comment:
nice post. thanks.
Post a Comment