HeartStrung

Nothing can prepare you for this moment. As far as you know, it is just another day at another doctor's office. You are sitting in a room. The walls are peach-brown and thin enough that you can hear a mother and a child talking in the room adjacent. There is a poster on the wall advertising Botox injections to help manage epilepsy. There is another poster on a different wall explaining the differences between various epileptic medications. In one corner of the room, there is a laptop on a little fixed table with a cabinet underneath. On the opposite wall is a brown exam table. The paper on the exam table is crumpled in one area. Next to the exam table is another computer on a rolling desk that is hooked up to a machine you are pretty sure is used to torture people. You say out loud that you hope you never need to have done whatever it is that machine does. (In the coming weeks you will find out what this torture machine is actually used for and that it doesn't hurt yo

It's been a while. I didn't intend for it to go down this way. I started this blog with the intention to write about some of the wonderful and terrible thoughts in my head. I wanted to write at least one blog every week and I didn't want to just write about chronic illness. There is so much more inside this crazy brain. But here we are, about a year and a half since I started this and I haven't even written one post per month. Not only that, but I have very little to say about any subject other than chronic illness right now. It doesn't surprise me that my adventure in blogging has gone this way. I mean there are plenty of reasons why I don't knuckle down and write. There are many days that I can't stand to look at the computer screen. The dizziness and nausea won't tolerate it. Some days I have a hard time tolerating staring at a wall. On the worst days, the dizziness is so bad that I can't tolerate the backs of my eyelids. If the