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It's been pouring rain outside all day long. Perfect writing weather.

I've had the itch to write in the back of my brain for the past week or more. But my fear of diving into it again has trumped the itch so far. I'm not sure what exactly I'm afraid of. I suppose I've been away from it for so long now, it's hard to get up the courage to try poking at it again.

I went into the hospital at the end of March. It is now the end of July. Maybe it's the idea that my motivation is completely gone. I can't even come up with a reason to pick up a book and read it. What with all of this change in my life, I've been having a hard time getting out of bed in the morning. Sometimes it's difficult to see the point when all you do is sleep, try to eat, make sure to get your four dialysis treatments in (Don't forget those!) and then go back to sleep again.

Yet, there has been this itch.

And I still don't know what to do with it. I think I'm also afraid that this whole medical experience has sucked all of the creativity out of me. Yes, that may be an irrational fear (fear itself is typically irrational) but I've been trying to come up with a reason for my complete lack of motivation to do anything that I used to enjoy.

With that though, I'll just be talking myself in circles. I want to try waiting on it a little more. Writing was the only thing that I really wanted to do. Now, I'm very afraid that that's not the case anymore.

I've been living at the parents' house since May. It's been okay. I have my own little bedroom, where I've hung up some posters and where Becca also brought me a life size cardboard cut out of Jared Padalecki. He stares darkly at me from my closet. For a while I had a scarf wrapped around his head so he'd stop staring at me while I put my underwear away.

Living at the parents' house comes with the instinctive "helping out" feeling. And I try to when I'm feeling good. Mom has a hard time going up and down the stairs, so I've been doing more of the laundry lately. I'm kind of a weakling, but stairs don't bother me at least.

I've also learned a lot about Halo and other video games through Sean. He's let me play some, and while I'm not horrible, I would be a major handicap to any online team I joined. But that never bothered me. I just enjoy blowing things up.

In return, Sean's been watching Supernatural with me. He's never seen it before, so I've been very excited about getting him to watch certain episodes. We're in the middle of season six.

My treatment is the same as I stated before. I'm doing it at home four times a day. It's not bad, but sometimes it can get in the way of things. Cecily took me down to Ashland for some of the Shakespeare festival a couple of weeks ago and I had to bring all of my stuff with me so I could do my dialysis in the hotel room. Once we were there it was okay, but it took a bit of planning ahead, which I'm not prone to. We also had to plan out or days while in Ashland around the times I needed to stop and ... dialysize.

Hopefully it won't last much longer. Next week, I'm going to start training on this machine they call a "cycler" which will do my treatments at night while I sleep (Hopefully I'll be able to sleep.) so eventually I won't have to do anything during the day.

I'll still have my catheter that goes around with me. I know what I thought of when I first heard the word "catheter" but it's not what you think. This catheter goes through a small hole in my abdomen about six inches to the side of my belly button. The tube inside drains the old fluid and fills me up with new fluid for dialysis. The tube outside is about eighteen inches long. And I have to coil it up and tape it to me in order to keep it from catching on anything.

After having that tube for almost three months now, something interesting came to mind. I thought of that line that Tony Stark says in The Avengers. Tony points to the glowing arc reactor in his chest and explains that it's keeping him alive and then he says, "It's a part of me."

That's what my catheter is too. It's something artificial that was put in to keep me alive. And it is a part of me. It's nowhere near as awesome, of course. And I doubt I could power a metal suit with rocket boots with it. Regardless, it does what it's supposed to. And it's been part of huge changes in my life. It's a part of me now. Although... maybe if I ran into Tony he could think of something cool I could do with it. :)

Hm. Maybe that writing thing will come back after all.

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abrynne

January 2015

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