I am going to speak my heart right now. I don't know whose out there, if anyone is reading but if you are I know that I have been neglectful of my blog lately. I have had quite a few guest post which is mostly due to the fact that I am worn down, tired, and scared right now. Over the past month and a half I have had dozens of tubs of blood drawn, an MRI, went through list after list of symptoms, and still don't know exactly what is going on with my body.
As I have stated before I have a pea size benign tumor in my pituitary gland near my optic nerve, but apparently my body has some how absorbed it, and it is no longer visible on my recent scans. Good thing right? Wrong? There is a possibility that during the absorption process it damaged my pituitary gland, and on top of all that I find out that I have a larger thyroid than most people. With my mothers history of diagnosis ranging from thyroid disease to marfan syndrome, none of this is a good thing.
I guess life isn't all bad, my daughters are oblivious to what is going on with me, other than the fact that mommy has been to the doctors' office quite a bit lately. They smile, they laugh, the giggle, and annoy me from time to time. I love them, because honestly if it wasn't for their joy I probably wouldn't be able to go on right now. The simpliest things make my toddlers smiles. Peek-a-boo, sitting in my lap, reading a book, playing with a long lost toy (My house is a jungle.) I wish I had their joy sometimes.
On my journeys to and from my preferred network of hospitals and medical centers, miles away from home, I have found some time to work the tired muscles in my brain by reading some good books. I finally finished Ann Petrys' The Street, which is now on my list of favorites. I am currently working on Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. I'm only a few mini-chapters in, but I have found a common thread in books that I have read lately. The main characters, mostly women, are imperfect on a voyage of self discovery. I guess discovery is apart of being human. We imperfect creations are constantly learning about ourselves and the world we live in. I wonder, are we each writing our own novel?
I'm in-between contentment and being completely pissed off right now. There is nothing that I can do to speed up the process, and I realize there are people dying everyday without access to healthcare. There are people without a family to care for, wishing there was someone by their bedside. There are people who are worst off than I am, and here I am complaining about pokes, prods, and doctor visits. I don't know how my story will end. Joy and happiness is right around the corner, I just have to get through a few obstacles first.
Peace and Love,
Najeema Iman, I AM Curly Locks