Happy belated Thanksgiving. The weekend was really tough to get through but alas it is now Wednesday. I have 6 days remaining until I am finally able to see the urologist and then on Thursday, the surgeon, to set a date for my gallbladder surgery.
My parents have been phoning every day since I had my endoscopy to see if I could get in sooner with anyone and be put on the cancellation list, only to be faced with constant busy signal and unanswered answering machines. Whenever the telephone rings here, I pray that they’ll find some room for me, but after the clock hits 5 pm, I know another day has defeated me. Yes, I know I should have been thinking that it’s one more day down instead, but I can't always find that strength right away. The only slight comfort I have now is that both professionals I'm seeing have good reputations and so maybe in some twisted universe, this is all worth the wait.
Some days, the hope that I muster just starts to dwindle away. I try so hard to rebuild myself to get through the night time and prepare for the next day that it's become so mentally exhausting. I’m getting tired of crying all the time, but it seems like the only way I can release what I’m feeling inside. Add in the physical pain and at times I feel like I've hit rock bottom. The one day I actually felt the worst, my brother happened to show up with some faux pink flowers and a unique colour-changing vase and a Sagittarius prism. It brought a smile to my face, not for the actual gifts, but knowing he was thinking of me.
On that note, I'm ready to go back to sleep, in hopes of waking up to another day gone. The count down continues...