Well, I guess I have some happy news to report. It’s not really ‘happy,; I guess but I’m happy with it. Although, being me, I wish would happen more quickly than what’s scheduled.

—- I got to be patient.

My beautiful mother accompanied me to the lung doctor today. And I’m scheduled for my first lung biopsy!

Sure, it might not be a thing most people would be excited about but I am. It’s a step forward. It’s learning more. Rather the results are good or bad, it’ll help solidify action.

Never being a “wait and see” type of person, I’m over the wait and see. Let’s just see and get going.

That’ll be in under 30 days although I requested a move up if there’s a cancelation.

I think primary care Dr. P has agreed that an inflammation test. I think I’ll be tested for ankylosing spondylitis as well.

But there are still some challenges on the horizon, like having my thyroid checked. For some reason, I was told it needed to be rechecked. Then, the doctor’s office said I don’t. But I know I do.

There’s the whole seroma thing going on. Wound Care said they’d refer me to a specialist but then didn’t. Still, it’s draining.

I need to get all of this straightened out so I can finally be referred to potentially get hormone shots for my bones to prepare me for spinal surgery correction.

It sounds dreadful. Yes, I know. But I’m thrilled for some reason.

I guess it’s a form of distraction. It’s a demented form of self-care. It just makes me feel better and that there is less dread since I’m taking action.

And maybe….. just maybe… it’ll mean that thoughts of last year’s ER visits, psyche wards, and hospital stays won’t become reality.

In a way, it’s very pathetic that I want all of this to happen, sometimes with the very worst outcomes, to feel I’m at my best.

Unabashedly, I’m craving the positive attention, the care, and (in a way) actually being controlled.

I didn’t like the hospital and dreaded the psyche ward from last year. But I became addicted to the support, the community, and the feelings of being loved and cared for.

It’s rather unsettling but I can’t seem to help it.

I don’t want to feel alone.
And, I guess, I have to abandon some sort of control in order to fulfill that craving.

But, since I’ve tried and failed, maybe this is what I need to become better.

I need to literally walk through fire.