I feel like my emotions are playing this horrible game that was was based on the black plague in England. I feel WONDERFUL and sad at the same time, because Kendra has started college. I miss her like nothing I can put into words. Her name sticks in my throat, and it will only come out in a gush of tears of pride and sadness.
My best friend in the world has stage IV Breast cancer, and she got some bad news. She is across the country and there is not a damn thing I can do for her except listen to her when she needs me. There is nothing more than I would like to do than just fly over there and just have the opportunity just to chill out with her. Laugh like we do on the phone and talk each others' ears off. Just be "normal" for a few days.
Then there is me. Sjogren's central. I go from doctor to doctor, and they all want to help. They are left wringing their hands a bit. I wrote to the Sjogren's Syndrome Foundation, and they sent me a big pack of pamphlets which I intend to hand out to all of my doctors. I gave my first one out today to my primary doctor, and she was very appreciative, because she readily admits that the disease is pretty foreign to her. I hope the other MD's are just as receptive. I feel like a rung out wash rag 95% of the time that has extremely painful bones, dry eyes, and a mouth like the Sahara Desert. I want HELP! I want REMISSION! I want to be able to walk in my yard without someone holding me up. I want to be able to take a fucking shower without needing to fucking hold on to something and wanting to take a nap after I am through! Is that too much to ask?
ashes to ashes we all fall down......