Whelmed

This is probably going to be the last post for a week or two because life is more than hectic right now. My senior thesis, which I have been working all year on, is due in the next two and a half weeks, so it's crunch time. I need to be writing around 4 pages a day on top of everything else.

I've caught up on past emails, but please note that my responses will be very slow over the next few weeks because my focus is on graduating. And if you know anything about me, it's graduating well, and not letting all the hard work I've put in over the past four years go to waste in less than two months.

There's a lot on my mind. Treatments are still going well and I'm noticing great improvement. I had a little setback the past few days when I got my period, but as we know this hormonal shift always seems to spark a flare-up. I'm still going once a week for injections with Dr. Kellogg, as well as twice a week for PT, however, I've cut back to once a week just until this thesis is done.

Today I walked in to get injections- four this time. That was a surprise, I was trying to get myself in the mindset to handle two. They hurt a lot more than I remember from last time and actually this time there was a lot of blood, so I stayed for a bit until things calmed down. Walking back was uncomfortable, but sitting for the rest of the day so far has been just fine. I'm still in a good mood because I do have a lot of things to be thankful for right now and I do feel I'm on a good road to recovery. But, I'm still not going to hide my frustrations. It's difficult giving up so much of your week to appointments. I asked some friends today to just tell me it is all going to be worth it in the end. I am constantly reminding myself that it is worth it and if I put the work in now it will be over soon. But that doesn't mean I still don't get frustrated. Walking back I felt a strange mixture of anger at "it" and self-pity. I know neither is good, so I've been shaking the feelings off.

I think as I'm coming closer and closer to graduation, I'm just more and more ready for this to be over and to actually start my life. I don't want to define myself as sick anymore, I want to erase this from my identity. I'll never forget about what I've been through, but I don't want to be consciously aware of it ever second of every day. But, if I've progressed this much in just a few weeks, I do have a lot of hope that my time is coming. In short, I'm anxious, I'm frustrated, I'm hopeful, and I should be writing about Victorian female mountain climbers right now.