Hi. It’s me. Lara.
I’m back with another ovary pun even though I technically didn’t go anywhere AND just paid $13 today to keep this blog going. I’m really dedicated.
A few things:
- I moved!
- It’s now officially been two years since I started working at BuzzFeed. Can you believe it? Me too.
- I accidentally left my oven mitt in the oven because, whatever, I thought it was a drawer, and started my first fire! Everything is fiiiiiiiine. I think.
- I was in a car accident. It was not my fault. No one was hurt… except my little car. :( Good news is, I don’t have to fix it myself. Bad news is, no one seems to care that I want it fixed by 9 p.m. PST today. I guesssss I’ll have to wait. It’s still drivable but the valet guy today DEFINITELY judged me when he saw it.
- Anndddddddd… I went back to the doctor today and I do, in fact, still have a cyst hanging out on my ovary. I would make a joke about it paying rent, but I want to be remembered for more than that.
I had the appointment this morning in Beverly Hills. They say that you should always go to the doctor where rich people go to the doctor. And they = me. I really like my doctor because her office is across the street from a Real Housewives Star’s clothing store and next to a Real Housewives Star’s restaurant. Literally what more could I ask for?
Anyway, the little asshole is still there, but it’s shrunk about half a centimeter. My doctor seemed to think this was good news even though I was like “Are you telling me I’ve been drinking literal tar for over a month for it to shrink NOT EVEN A GDDAMN CENTIMETER?” It’s hard to tell if the shrinking is actually due to me drinking tar or if the cyst is just on a diet, but I guess I will continue to drink tar anyway, because what the hell.
The last month and a half or so have been really hard. It’s hard even typing this. I try very, very hard to remain positive about my situation and remind myself that it’s really not that bad. Because, realistically, it isn’t. It’s something I can handle. But the pain in the last month or so is my normal pain x10… and it’s constant. It’s been difficult to get out of bed in the morning, and difficult to remain positive about my future with these conditions. And I haven’t really been handling it. I’ve lost weight, I’ve lost sleep, and my immune system is basically telling me to kiss its ass. I’m tired. I’m angry. But ultimately, I’m just sick. I’m so sick of being sick.
If I had to sum up dealing with chronic pain to anyone without it, I would say it’s like being religious in a way. It’s having faith in something, when there’s little to no evidence that this thing is actually real. In my case, it’s having faith that I won’t always have to live like this, or feel like this, even though history would suggest otherwise. But on days when my pain is awful, faith is all I’ve got to cling to, and I cling to it like it’s the last bite of an In-N-Out burger.
Everybody has bad days, but it seems like when you have chronic pain, there’s more bad than good. It’d be easy to focus on all the bad days, but it’s more rewarding and worthwhile to try and focus on the good. So that’s what I try to do.
I’m not going to end this post like I usually do by trying to see the positive in the situation… because I’m tired of doing that. I know there are positives and I know I can and will get through this.
But I also know that sometimes you just need to say how you really freaking feel; no filter, no bullshit. And so today, I leave you with how I really feel.
I feel tired. I feel angry. I feel helpless. I feel sad. I feel scared. And I feel sorry for myself. Tomorrow? I’ll probably feel the same.
But for myself, and for the millions of other people dealing with chronic pain, I’ll keep that hope. Even it’s just a little bit. Even if it’s barely nothing at all.
Because I know that no matter what, having a little hope is better than having none at all.
So here’s to hope… for you, for me, and for everyone in between.