There's a Light at the End of the Tunnel...And it Ain't a Train!

Ok, so everybody should know by know that I've struggled with my health for years. I just know something is wrong with me, but I can't get anyone to confirm it. Hey, wait a minute!!! I know what you're all thinking. Everyone can confirm that there's something wrong with my head. I'm TRYING to prove there's something physically wrong.

Anyway, year after year, test after test, I have to come home to John and inform him that my laziness and sleepiness and lack of desire to clean the house and take care of the bills and cook and do everything that a good little woman should do have nothing to do with anything physically wrong with me. Apparently it is still all in my head.

The doctors keep coming around to, it's severe clinical depression. But I don't want it to be in my head! John doesn't want it to be in my head. He knows I'm a little "off," and he deals with that - not happily, but he deals with it. But he's gotten upset when the doctor confirms it. He once said to me, and I quote, "Oh, GREAT, now you're a 'certified' basket case." So, apparently it's fine if I'm nuts. He just doesn't want me to be awarded the credentials.

Each time I come home with no new diagnosis, not only do I have to deal with my husband's disappointment that I've saddled him with myself, but I feel the guilt of what the heck IS wrong with me?? Why can't I cook, clean, etc. Why don't I want to take good care of my family, yadda, yadda.

Anyway, I finally almost have a diagnosis. I went for a sleep study Tuesday night and all day Wednesday. It turns out I kick all night, which arouses me from sleep, which doesn't allow me to get a good night's rest, which makes me tired, etc. It also answers John's question of why don't you just exercise, it'll make you feel better. He never believed me, but no, exercise doesn't help.

Anyway, the doctor will interpret the test in the next week and a half. Then I will be prescribed a medication that will help control my night jerking. I should be able to get good, refreshing sleep, and I can go back to making my bed. I don't make my bed for two reasons: 1) I don't feel like it, and 2) I crawl back into it several times a day.

Woohoo, I'm so glad something is finally wrong with me. :O)

The whole time I post on my blog, I have Hanna behind me huffing, puffing, sighing, and gasping. "But Mom, that's not even true." or, "That's not even accurate." From my point of view it's mostly true, but of COURSE I have to embellish and exaggerate for the entertainment factor.

To all you potential bloggers out there: Don't blog while your kids are watching!