This week has confirmed something I’ve been suspecting for a long time – my energy is on the wane again. I find myself breaking, sputtering – the baseline is lower, but obscured by random jags of movement and twitching. My mind clouds, and drive is harder and harder to find… the joys, the joys, of being a woman.

And by that, I mean that I very likely have undiagnosed endometriosis, and the likelihood of diagnosis decreased significantly by dint of fertility. Doctors seem less concerned with the fact that I’m tired and miserable, and have used my constant state of confusion to their advantage to shove me out the door. And while having a child has ‘fixed’ me temporarily, I knew that it wouldn’t last. And while another pregnancy next year (if things happen as we hope), would buy me a few more years of energy and life, pumping out babies ad nauseum isn’t exactly a  viable health solution (plus, I can barely hold it together enough for one – two will be a real test!).

As one can probably gather, I’m not the best patient. Coming up poor in America, the only time I went to the doctor as a kid were for shots, or that time I got poison ivy so severely that my eye sealed shut. Annual check-ups weren’t for us – food pantries and angel trees were. So since the first time I was able to have a supposedly regular doctor was during my military tenure… wait, that didn’t work out, either. Oh sure, I had annual assessments and the like, but not a regular doctor, or even a regular doctoral team! So it wasn’t until I was in my late 20s living here in the UK until I had a regular doctor, and could try to learn how to establish a doctor/patient relationship, rather than incoherent I’M BROKE FIX ME NOW cries.

It’s going slowly ’cause I don’t know the first thing about how to express what’s going wrong, and with the military? I had it beaten into my head to quit being smarter than the doctors because they outranked me, and here it seems that docs are worried about people learning too much from the internet and making with the hypochondriac… it’s not a comfortable road to walk. And does my migraine-y head in, ha ha.

So anyways, here’s hoping I can cling to good humour and grace for the time being… and if I can chivvy myself into doing some dishes. Mmm, chores…

Have a good weekend! I’ll do my best with what I have, promise. 😉