When life hands you lemons…
… shut up and eat them. This has always been my approach. Put up, shut up and get on with things. Don’t incite conflict. Don’t argue too much, just… take the damned lemons and enjoy.
I’m a little fucked up right now ladies and gents, you’ll have to pardon me. I’ll probably end up closing this post.
Angry young woman at the wheel. What kind of doctors look at a young teenager who has almost doubled her weight in a matter of months and not wonder why? What kind of doctors tell this girl she just needs to cut out the junk food and excercise more. What kind of specialist mutters “You probably can’t have kids, never mind” without making eye contact and then sends a 16 year old on her way? How many doctors did I see? How many of them looked at side issues - bad back, bad knees, weak ankles, weight, and blamed me - they all of them BLAMED ME.
It wasn’t my fault.
How many times did I cry in front of a doctor? How many times did they reduce me to tears telling me I was just a lazy, fat girl. How often did i plead with them to understand? That bloody dermatoligist telling me if I ate less McDonalds I wouldn’t have a problem. I sat in her waiting room crying in front of strangers, crying in front of the nurse who was tkaing my blood because that doctor TOLD ME NOT TO LIE TO HER. I haven’t eaten McDonalds since 1998. Oh, wait, once since then, but still. She didn’t believe me.
And I wasn’t lying.
And so i get a diagnosis, finally. After14 years i am finally NOT a freak of nature. These things ARE real, and there is a reason for them and I am so relieved, and so optimistic that i gobble up the medication, totally oblivious to the effect it is having on me. After a while, after too long, i notice - really notice - that I am miserable to the point of wanting the whole damned world to go away and am bitching at people constantly. I mention this to the doctor “Oh don’t worry about this, this is the only treatment”. So I stop. And figure I’ll just get on with my life anyway.
No one told me weightloss would be harder, no one told me feeling full after a meal was harder, no one told me anxiety was part of this, not one fucking doctor in 14 fucking years. And this bloody THING lurking inside me LOCKED ME AWAY FROM THE WORLD and it makes me feel ugly and alone and I am alone.
I am, at this point, incredibly lonely.
So on the 18th of this month I start it all again, the blood tests and the other tests and this and that and questions questions questions and I’m scared to death of it all because what if they blame me again?
It’s not my fault.
It’s not.
Yeah, I’m just whining, but I have some big adjustments to make, not all of them medical. Michelle tells me one step at a time.
I think my world is ending. At this point, I would eat the lemons and smile.
August 6th, 2004 at 5:38 pm
Well, bless you many times over for your courageous stand to take your life back into your own hands! We have many different paths, yet none go through life without ONE major challenge which victory WILL bring about your soul’s liberation. And I’m not thinking of Death’s Passage here, but of the brilliant sense of self-achievement for a job well done.
I DROOL for lemons!