I never thought that I am going to share this personal story of mine here, but whatever, here it goes …
So I have been having trouble and problems personally for over a couple of months now, and I was really not doing well handling it independently. So, I started writing about it, sharing it with my pens and papers, and sometimes my computer. It sucks that I cannot tell it to anyone because I hate the feeling of being a burden or anything. Also, I’m sensitive as fuck, so yeah.
Anyways, One-night at the end of February, I was really freaking out because I cannot sleep, and I cannot stop overthinking about my condition. I gave in and talked to my best friend about it. I know she’s not very compassionate because she always tries to cheer me up, but I feel that I do not need to cheer up. I need someone to listen and just be there for me because the hell is going on about me. But I really love her, and I always appreciate every little thing she does for me.
So, I finally decided to go and figure out what is wrong with me. It was Monday lunchtime. I missed my 3-hour long class so I could do IT. I have been shaking, and I have been having second thoughts about going in, but I realized I cannot manage another night without knowing what is wrong with me.
I went in. It was embarrassing, and I feel ashamed for doing it but taking it all aside, I have to know my condition to take care of it as early as possible. I took a test. It was horrifying waiting for the result, but the result is more morbid than I expected when the doctor called me. Yes, I expected less morbid because I know my body, and I know everything I do. Also, I am not really the type of person who has expectations to avoid disappointments. But the hell I did because I am too confident that the result will be NEGATIVE. But the result was POSITIVE. I laughed when I saw it. I laugh and laugh while my doctor stared at me, confused. How could it be positive, right?
So, I demanded another test. Just making sure I am fine as a horse. While waiting and preparing for the second test, I got curious, why is it positive? What are the possible indications why it resulted in POSITIVE? I know I should not ask that because it will only feed my anxiety worse, but hey, I suffered and laughed enough, so let me suffer more. HAHAHA, at least I deserve it.
The doctor enumerated and explained to me many possible factors why it came out POSITIVE. I did not hear all of them, but I listened to the worst-case scenario, which is CANCER. Well, I lived a great life. I guess that is just fair. Damn, I love my life—what a full of crap.
On the verge of a minimal anxiety attack, tapping to the desk, hyperventilating, and feeling funny in my stomach, I took the second test. I cannot believe that I am doing this alone, with my own money, and with no one to release my worries. It was hard to go through that alone. Sometimes, when the memory flashes back, I just wished I brought someone with me to hold my hand at the most excruciating mind fucking experience.
Then, the 2nd result came back, and I was right. It was NEGATIVE this time. So what the fuck is wrong with the first test? I was figuratively going mad in the back of my mind like WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK HAPPENED! Was that a Prank that almost caused me a seizure or a heart attack or whatever that could kill me? It was not a relief to have a negative and a positive result in a test. So, I asked my doctor, “What now?” I was a bit laughing at the ridiculous situation I am facing alone in the fucking clinic. Thank God I did not bring someone cause he/she would have witnessed me going insane, hahaha.
The doctor and I talked for a while. We discussed the further tests that need to confirm my conditions. So I went to a more prominent clinic to undergo a rectal exam and ultrasound to ensure that everything is fine internally. And boy, oh boy, my wallet is not happy about it. This is all my savings getting wasted. After the test, let us just say. It was all pain in the ass, literally and figuratively. I am dying and crying my heart out in my mind because I am showing off a tough gal outside. All the pains are beneath me.
The result in my laboratory is fine, and I have a treatable illness. I just need few days to test if the medicines are working for me because if not, it will be a more difficult and severe illness than we all thought. So, today I am still taking my medications that which makes me wanna vomit every time. I feel sleepy and emotional, I feel weird, and I feel everything, so I am very sorry to miss out on things. In a few weeks, I will report back on the progress and let us all hope for a none mind-blowing and fuck up result. Because again, my curious ass knows that the worst-case scenario for this shitshow is cyst or tumor or worst, cancer, it is never off the table. So yes, let me die if I die, and I can no longer roll the dice.
I went to the pharmacy to buy my medications, and hell, it emptied my wallet and what I bought is still not enough to cover the prescription. I just had to buy what my money can cover, and so I will just buy again when it runs out.
When I got home, everything feels heavy. I know I should be relieved that I am okay and I am not suffering from worse illnesses. But going through that clinic, the results, and everything alone emotionally and financially really hit me to rock bottom. I called my closest friends. Some were busy to talk to, so fine—others who were just silent and taking it all in the information and would not say anything. Still, I understand them because they really know me that words are powerless right now.
Nevertheless, their silence and presence are everything I could settle for. It’s a relief, and it made me feel safe to open this up to them. My other friend is trying to help in a way that she treats my condition as a simple curable disease, which is partly a fact, but I don’t need someone like that right now. I just want peace and understanding of how difficult it is for me to went through all that shit.
Then I had this sweet friend of mine who cried after hearing my story. She literally cried on me, which is sweet and funny. I love her. She is like a mum to my immature ass.
So, If I am not talking with you, I am sorry. I just need time and peace because I am not sad and depress about my condition. I am sad and depressed about what happened on that day, March 01, 2021. My medications also fuel me to be more associated with my feelings shoving me harder to the bottom of the pit. Also, March 1 is a very, very cursed date in my life. March 1, 2011, was the date I went in the operating room and almost died for having an exploded appendix all over my internal. So Hooray for that.
Anyways let’s catch up soon when I heard back from my doctor. Thank you & Stay Safe!
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