Well I am on day 6 of the heaviest period ever since the beginning of time. This is so awful I cannot describe it. Going to call my doctor's nurse today because it's making me crazy.

The whole UTI/whatever it was because I doubt anyone really believes me just because the urinalysis showed no sign of infection and SO? So what? I believed I had one and that's what matters. The internet told me I had renal failure and I only believed that for, like, thirty minutes. My husband said I had a UTI in the brain. Oh, honey, that's not even possible. I was just going to say that the whole UTI seems better today.

Also, I had to wear a bandana out on Sunday and it sucked but not as much as I thought it would. Of course I only went ONE place. My sister came over later and messed with my wig and made it look somewhat presentable. And then we realized I'd put it on backwards. So probably I shouldn't wear a wig because I'm not smart enough to do so. You have to be pretty smart to wear a wig because they are mind-boggling. With the TAG and everything that GOES IN THE BACK as tags normally do. I once thought unicorns were real (and also, invisible cream. thanks loony tunes). So now you understand the kind of brain power I'm working with.

I'll still have to take the wig to the stylist because it needs a trim. I wonder if I'll actually be brave enough to wear it. What if there's a sudden gust of wind and it goes flying off? What then? I'll have to run after my fake hair. That will be so much worse than falling down every single step at the library when I was eleven.

I have myself a merry little panic attack

I got this urinary tract infection, of course. Because my body's such a shitty teenager these days and just wants to see what it can get away with. I called my family doctor over the weekend, or rather the doctor on call for my doctor, and whined about how big and slimy the cooties are at urgentcare and how I did not want to go there and wallow in those cooties what with my compromised immune system. So that nice doctor called me in a 3 day supply of antibiotics. Cool, right? Yeah except for I took all those and I am still not right. I'm better, don't get me wrong. But I'm pretty sure I'm not right.

Today I called my doctor's office and he sent me to get a urinalysis. I guess I ended up in a cootiefied place after all. I hear you laughing at me urgentcare, don't think I don't.

But back to the weekend. Well Saturday in particular when I went to the bathroom no less than 1200 times because I was trying to pee normally. And even though I never go to the bathroom 1200 times in a day, it all somehow made sense to me to do this. I ended up calling the oncology nurse at 11pm just freaking out all over the place. Because my brain switch had been flipped to GLARINGLY STUPID PANIC. That's my highest setting! It's always a treat when that's engaged. Glaringly stupid panic means I race walk all over the house like an insane person. And I think things like 'I am having multiple organ failure.' I wish I were kidding about that. I mean, here's this rational nurse on the phone saying "You've had one antibiotic, you need to give them time to work" and I'm all 'WE ARE WAY BEYOND ANTIBIOTICS NOW. We're talking total system shutdown.'

And my poor, poor husband saying things like "Try to calm down" or "you're making things worse than they are" and I'm just looking at him like he totally doesn't get it. No one cares about my bladder. My kidneys are a huge joke.

Eventually he got me to lie in bed where I pretended to be okay. Then after he went to sleep, I got up about eleventy hundred more times to squeeze every last drop of pee out of my body.

I'm out of lorazepam. I wonder if anyone's noticed?

hallelujah, it's raining hair

My hair is REALLY coming out now. It's depressing. So I thought I'd write about it. It helps when I can spread my misery around.

I cannot keep my fingers out of it. It's horrifying but I can't stop. So there are piles of my hair in all the trash cans. It looks like I've been busy building nests.