The Dr. Mr. Fancypants had me go for CT scans yesterday, of my head (sinuses) and chest (lungs), to see what the disease is doing. My appointment was for 5 PM. On a Friday. There's nothing more discouraging than having to be at the hospital when everyone else in the world is on their way home for the weekend. On top of that, I'm so tired these past few days that I'm having trouble paying attention to anything.
In fact, I'm so tired that I can barely take care of myself. Today I'm kind of grumpy that I'm a band widow, and I'm missing my RRBF, but it'll all pass once I get some sleep and rest for the majority of the weekend. My only plans are to watch bad TV (24 on DVD) and read. Oh, and to do my abridged versions. I'm so behind!
Isn't my life thrilling?
You know, the worst part of days like this, disease days, is honestly thinking that it might be easier just to let the Wegener's have its way with me. I know it's not a rational thought, probably a side effect of the maddening prednisone, but today I'm even too tired to think about fighting.
But that'll all change this afternoon. I've got one more IFOA reading to go to, and I'm hoping that it'll perk me right up.
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