If there’s a way to be in abdominal pain and not also spiral into anxiety, someone out there please tell me what it is. Please.
I was up at 4:30 this morning again with intestinal distress. It was a mixed bag for me, emotionally. On one hand, I understand that the reason I still feel terrible is that this is not over. On the other hand, why is this still not over?!
When I don’t feel good, which is all the time these days, I watch Bob’s Burgers a lot. I recently saw the episode where Louise has an over-night with her class at the aquarium and gets constipated. Then I saw the Superbowl episode where Gene clogs a toilet at Jimmy Pesto’s. It occurs to me someone who writes for Bob’s Burgers has IBS.
Still no fever, which is good in all ways but the diagnostic ones.
Last night there was a family thing where everyone had calzones from Sauce on the Side—one of my favorites. Not only did I forgo the calzone to stay in bed, but I didn’t even throw myself a pity party about it. That’s how miserable I am right now. Eating rich foods sounds worse than enduring another four years of high school.
The only things bringing me GI joy right now are the Creamy Coconut Outshine bars. They’re like the pudding pops of my youth, but with coconut and without the rapist spokesperson.
I sent a message to the nurse practitioner to explain my situation last night and let her know I’ve stopped taking the hydroxychloroquine—at least until this clears up.
There are a few things that could have set me off, so I’m not ready to give up on it without a medical recommendation. However, it’s certainly not helping this present darkness, and I don’t want to needlessly develop a bad association.
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