It's Not the End of the World

This week was…tough. Monday I had an MRE (magnetic resonance enterography) for my Crohn’s disease. Or rather I was supposed to have one but after waiting two hours and drinking two bottles of the abdominal/ pelvic imaging liquid, they couldn’t find a vein to inject the contrast dye. The nurses tried desperately in both arms and four times in my hand including my knuckle. Then they sent me home with specific instructions so I could come back and they could try again. Apparently, when you have Crohn’s and you are inflamed your veins are harder to find.

Yesterday I just felt cranky and on edge. I got mad at my boyfriend for an innocent joke. Maybe it was because I deleted an entire chapter of my memoir. This really activated my OCD even though I had it printed out. I had to type up seven pages and that threw off my entire schedule. I didn’t get done most of what I wanted, but at least I had a nice dinner with my friends.

Monday would have been my Grandpa’s 100th birthday. Yesterday was my Poppy’s birthday and today was the two-year anniversary of my youngest aunt’s death (she died of breast cancer and left four children all under eighteen). I miss them all but I was really lucky to have known them and be blessed with such a family. They all had such unbelievable love for me. So it really puts the rest of the week in perspective. If you have to wait an extra hour at the doctor's or spend an extra hour typing with extra shaky hands, it’s not the end of the world. And that’s the song that played as we drove home from dinner last night. I take that as more than a coincidence. It’s always more than a coincidence.