The Worst Summer

"And how was your summer?" people chirp sunnily.  "We went to Barbados, and visited family in Colorado, and went hiking, and enjoyed all the summer concerts!"

"Mmmm," I say.

There have been 12 doctor visits since June 1.  Until this week, when I finally started to get better, I didn't realize how weak and tired I had been.  We have had lots of Mommy Yelling Be QUIET and even more Unstructured Lego Time. We have not had fun.

But I didn't throw myself under a truck yet, so there's that.

(I'm not going to throw myself under a large vehicle of any kind, I have to take care of the children.  But many days, it has seemed an improvement in my quality of life.)

In two weeks I will go see the Fancy Immunologist in City Over The Mountains and perhaps they will have something to say about what all this nonsense is, and what to do about it.  Two months is too long to be this sick and in this much pain. This is not normal. This is not okay.  I can't go on like this.  I can't.


Edit: fourth ENT trip has finally done in the stabbed-with-knives headache.  (Now I have assorted muscle aches, but perhaps I can sleep.)  However, that was 1/6 of a year.  Dear God, I hope the immunologists have something to tell me.