abrynne: (Default)
[personal profile] abrynne
I just read through my last post. Wow, that is depressing. Justifiably so, but still...

Instead of going to get my blood cleaned three times a week, now I do my treatment at home. I have to drain and fill my peritoneal cavity (It basically holds all of your organs. Yes, everybody has one.) with a special solution, which pulls the toxins and extra fluid out of my body. So I drain the bad stuff out and then fill up with a fresh batch every time I do it.

It took some getting used to. I started on this about a month ago. That was a really hard week, when I first began the training. But I got used to it. I'd say that's been the biggest idea behind this whole process, "You'll get used to it." I can't say how many things I've had to "get used to" within the past three months. But that statement has yet to be proven untrue.

"Home" is also very different now. I moved out of my parents house when I was twenty-four years old, back in 2007. I'm thirty one now, and back in the house with Mom and Dad, and the youngest bro, Sean.

Like with anything else, there are pros and cons to this transition. There is usually someone home with me, which is nice. (I've had a hard time with being by myself since I got out of the hospital.) Yet Sean takes over the TV downstairs almost immediately after coming home from work.

I'm really grateful though. I've been completely dependent upon them since I moved in here, Sean included. He brings the boxes of supplies into my room when I run out; Dad's taken over my car payment and insurance; and Mom's gone to every appointment with me, she brings me food and helps me with my laundry.

I would not be surviving without them.

What's frustrating though is I feel like that's all I'm doing. Surviving. I haven't written a single thing since this insanity began. I don't draw anymore; I just sit and stare at Netflix. It's understandable. But I can feel my brain getting restless because my body is still weak and requires a lot of rest.

I wake up in the morning, thinking of things I want to do. It's usually just simple things - wash my hair, put some laundry in, maybe get out my sketchbook - and, like yesterday morning, my body stopped me. My blood pressure dropped dramatically that morning, and I didn't even have the strength to make my bed. Cec had bought tickets for a One Republic concert ages ago, so I had no choice but to try and rest before it was time to go to the concert last night. Thankfully, I was able to go and didn't have a hard time. It was a great concert.

Maybe that's just what I'll have to do. I need force myself to get back into the things I liked to do. It's so easy to get complacent and just not care anymore.


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January 2015

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