First of all...I changed the title of my blog. It used to be "Stopping The Roller Coaster Ride." But, well, life is nothing but a myriad of ups and downs, twists and turns. So I made the switch to "Enjoying The Crazy Ride." I refuse to stop the ride of life, so I might as well have a little fun. Plus, this started off as a place to log and vent all my bariatric surgery stuffs. But I need an outlet for all things about life, not just about weight loss struggles.
For instance, today's vent/update is about this stupid tumor that no one seemed to really care about. And by "no one" I really mean anyone involved in the medical field.
I found out Friday, April 17 that I had this tumor and would be referred to Dr. Angel in Beaumont. On Wednesday, April 22, we decided I would go to Dr. David Baskins in Houston. After googling Dr. Baskins, I was very pleased and felt like I would be in good hands. The problem...actually getting in to see Dr. Baskins.
I called my doctor's office, the referral department, spoke with friends in the medical field about how this process should work...still not hearing anything about an appointment and getting completely conflicting reports on what next steps are.
By Monday, April 27, I finally received a phone call from the referral department of SETMA. They sent all my paperwork to Dr. Baskins office on the previous Thursday at 8:56 AM and I should have heard something from them by now.
I call Dr. Baskins office: We don't have anything on you...oh wait, yeah here it is.
Seriously?!? You've had my name since LAST Thursday and it took me calling you for you to find it? I was told she will fax orders to my local doc's office to get some labwork done here and will find me an appointment for this Thursday (that was yesterday by the way...in case you're not looking at a calendar and following along counting the days with me).
That didn't exactly happen. That was Monday. Finally by Wednesday the lab orders were done and Thursday I was told I have an appointment for NEXT Wednesday. This will be almost 3 weeks since learning about my little alien living in my head. I would like to name this little alien...suggestions?
Every day I would say, "That's it, I'm done." Meaning I'm not going to stress myself out, I'm not going to call the doctor, I'm just going to sit here and do nothing. Unfortunately, that's not me. I have called someone every day, heard the promise of a return call, and hear nothing....and start the process over the next morning.
Finally Tuesday evening, I couldn't sleep. I just laid there thinking about this, about this baseball season, about Coby still snoring in my ear...and that's when it finally happened. I let it go. Sing along...Let it go....let it go...ok, enough.
I finally just said, you take it Jesus. This is not my ball game, this is not my plan, and honestly my hands are not strong enough to hold all this. And Wednesday was the day the ball got rolling. God just needed me to be reminded WHO was in control here, and it's definitely not me. This is a gigantic step for me. I kinda like to be the one in charge, the one navigating the processes. But I couldn't keep going the way I was. I was crying every hour, every day. I was exhausted. I wanted to scream. Thank you, Jesus, for your hand on my shoulder telling me to just be still.
Now don't get me wrong....I'm still a little freaked out that this is even happening. But I know my God is bigger than this. Please continue to pray for me and my little guys as we are going through this. I love all of you for checking in on me, asking me how things are going, and encouraging me through this test of patience and faith. xoxoxox
Edit...minutes after I posted this, the doc called and rescheduled my apoiintment from 8 AM to 5 PM. The same time as Coby's vbs musical. And the patience testing continues as this Supermom is constantly being reminded she can't do it all.
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