I can think of only one way to start this post, and that is by simply saying: Fuck.This.Shit.
I know, such an eloquent way to start a post. Sorry. I don't want this post, or any of my posts really, to come across as, "oh look. Another privileged, spoiled, white girl crying and saying 'oh poor me' when in reality she's just a spoiled brat with no concept of the struggles of the real world". Maybe I'm stupid for thinking of that but that's how I feel, and I never want people to think of me as that kind of person. Maybe deep down that's how I see myself, I don't know.
I guess I should start by bringing you up to speed on my health stuff. On the 16th I started my iron transfusion treatments and by the time I left the Oncology center, who knows how many hours later (5? 6? Something like that), I was feeling worse than I did going in. Even though I had transfusions back in '08 they still had to run the test to make sure I wasn't allergic to anything, so that's why it took longer. They immediately started me on the saline to flush my veins and keep them open. Ten minutes later they started the bag of Benadryl that drips along with the iron to (theoretically) keep an allergic reaction from happening. Another ten minutes went by and then I got the test dose of iron. I think it took about twenty minutes to go through that bag and then they had to watch me for thirty minutes after that to make sure I didn't have an allergic reaction and then they finally started the transfusion. With the Benadryl still pumping. They told me not to fight it if the Benadryl started making me sleepy but I can't fall asleep in public places if I'm surrounded by people I don't know (seriously, I've tried numerous times). Since I couldn't fall asleep I started feeling really sick, like I had really bad motion sickness or something. It was awful. When I had my second transfusion on the 23rd I asked them if I could have it without having the Benadryl drip since it made me feel so sick. Thankfully they said we could try it that way and they gave me something for nausea so my second transfusion went way smoother. I have my third transfusion tomorrow, how lovely.
The blackout spells are still happening. The number hasn't increased and they still only last for a few seconds, but I know it's not a good sign. I haven't told anyone they're still happening aside from doodle buddy though, what's the point? I almost had to go home from work early, again, today because of them. I was fine, for the most part, during first service. I felt funny and a bit woozy but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. And then I had a blackout spell fifteen minutes into second service and I thought I was going to be sick. And now I feel like shit. Mom thinks I'm faking, shocker, because I went Black Friday shopping with Kim and was fine (I just went to hang out, not shop). "That isn't something that comes and goes," she said, "it's either there all the time or not at all". Um, no. That's not how it works, it DOES come and go sometimes. I've felt fine since my transfusion last week until today. Whatever. She started ranted about how I "might as well get used to it happening" because we can't afford for me to get treatments and I might as well just cancel my appointment with the gastroentrologist because we basically "don't have insurance and can't afford it".
She also thought that rant would be the perfect time to tell me I should just turn my car over to the bank because I'm "going to lose it anyway". Something went catastrophically wrong with Dad's work truck...again...so the money he was planning on using to help me get my car payments caught up had to go towards fixing his truck. So I'm SOL I guess. And now I'm sitting in my room crying...once again, feeling like a failure as usual. Like our financial problems are due largely in part to me. Once again we're in a position where we can't afford for my brother to see his specialist and we can't afford the testosterone treatments he desperately needs so he'll probably go through withdrawal yet again and that's bad for all of us. For once, just once, I'd like to be reminded what it feels like to be proud of myself for being on top of my finances. Or on top of my life in general really. In all honesty my self-esteem level this semester has shot down into the negative level. And that worries me. But it's whatever, because I can't do a damn thing about it. Anytime Mom catches me having a breakdown she tells me I'm being dramatic, peppered in with a few "I told you so's", before she manages to turn it around onto herself. Oh, so when I'm having a mental breakdown I'm just being dramatic and I'm not trying "hard enough" to fix my situation but it's totally opposite and okay for her to do it. Because that makes complete sense. I already feel miserable about everything, I don't need her making me feel worse.
I planned on writing about other things that have been going on, like Nana for example, but I can't bring myself to do so. As usual my nerves are shot, my eyes are bloodshot from crying and I need to fix that before Mom sees, I feel like I'm shaking even more than I was when I started this post, and I feel like I'm shutting down big time. I don't know what else to say. Goodnight all.