Tests up the wazoo (the wazoo being my vagina). Next appointment is scheduled for 3-11. They put me on something to stop my period. We’re looking at multiple options for a diagnosis in regards to the symptoms I’m having, so… Lots and lots of tests in my future. Lots and lots of tests today. I’m tired… and SORE. In a not good way. But I have a good doctor, who listens to what I have to say, and I’m not as scared as I was before. Cancer isn’t the first option on the table (until the second lab comes back), so THAT’S a huge weight off my shoulders. I feel like I can breath a little easier now. But I’m still sore.
So many failures and recriminations fill your heart with stalled frustration now that rumination has had time to give tongue time to taste. And you’re tastes have changed from vanilla to the strange, but as you count that change a blessing, you give pause in your confessing that those bestowed have been a curse. For better or for worse it seems, has stolen pocket holes in dreams and through those ripped up seams of jeans, you’ve seen the universe. And the end, it may be coming. May you be seen as one becoming. Something worthy of this earth. Since birth. Always pushing, pulling chafing. after stars you have been chasing, and in your grasp, you’d face them, before letting fingers loose. Your truth. It is yet to be discovered. So excavate, uncover, `fore you’re interned in turn.