Worrisome

A real snowstorm. How I wish for snow days again. I wish I could find a sled and run out to the hills of the park, drink hot cocoa with D, and curl up on the couch for some fluffy tv and movie viewing. Snow does not lend itself to angst and cynicism. A love story or comedy is better for today.

I need to find a specialist to help me deal with my scary illness. It’s chronic, it won’t go away by wishing, praying, hoping, and if I don’t take care of it now while I’m relatively young, it will compound and get worse as I grow older. It’s unusual for someone as young as I am to deal with this illness, which is why I think that doctors have a heightened response when they find out what I’ve been diagnosed with.