My mother has taken to hovering around me as much as she can, she watches
the doctors, hopeful that they'll say that I'm getting better, she watches
me eat, making sure I never eat anything that hasn't been approved by the
doctors, and if I hadn't specifically told her not to, she would watch me
while I sleep.
I know it's probably harder on her than it is for me, but I can't all of this constant obsessing over me.
I coughed once yesterday and she jumped and called the doctor. She made the doctor come over and wouldn't let him leave until he gave her the thumbs up that I was ok. He came back to today to put me on an IV. Now I have to wheel this stupid clumsy thing around. It's such a pain in the ass but I think I'll be able to deal.
I think I should be called Pincushion now, have to have blood taken at least once a day to check how my body is reacting to certain treatments. You'd think that since I'm so sick they SHOULDN'T be taking so much blood from me, but I guess that's probably why I'm not a doctor. Anyhow, I have an army of pills to take and a schedule for when I have to take them. What little life I have left is being run by these stupid pills.
Pills and paperwork, that's all I see now, my lawyer was here today as well, to get my will put together and set and ready. Unfortunately my mom couldn't take staying the room listening to it for long, she left halfway through. The lawyer also seems to be a little on edge; he confided in me that he had never had to go over the will of someone as young as me without a parent being the one who was doing the real orchestrating. He even told me that he felt bad that I had to do this. He's pretty nice, I mean he barely knew me but he seemed to genuinely feel sorry for me.
There are so many arrangements that had to be taken care of. It's nothing like TV where someone dies and then magically their funeral is set up and goes through without a problem. It's weird to have to order your own casket, tombstone and burial plot. Mom can't understand why I chose to do it myself but I know that she would never get any of these things done. She's really strong and whatnot but I know she'd probably crack under all of this. I don't think I could bear seeing my mother cry, especially if she was doing something to help me out.
Unfortunately all this work is making me really tired really fast so I'm going to go to sleep. I will write again tomorrow.
I know it's probably harder on her than it is for me, but I can't all of this constant obsessing over me.
I coughed once yesterday and she jumped and called the doctor. She made the doctor come over and wouldn't let him leave until he gave her the thumbs up that I was ok. He came back to today to put me on an IV. Now I have to wheel this stupid clumsy thing around. It's such a pain in the ass but I think I'll be able to deal.
I think I should be called Pincushion now, have to have blood taken at least once a day to check how my body is reacting to certain treatments. You'd think that since I'm so sick they SHOULDN'T be taking so much blood from me, but I guess that's probably why I'm not a doctor. Anyhow, I have an army of pills to take and a schedule for when I have to take them. What little life I have left is being run by these stupid pills.
Pills and paperwork, that's all I see now, my lawyer was here today as well, to get my will put together and set and ready. Unfortunately my mom couldn't take staying the room listening to it for long, she left halfway through. The lawyer also seems to be a little on edge; he confided in me that he had never had to go over the will of someone as young as me without a parent being the one who was doing the real orchestrating. He even told me that he felt bad that I had to do this. He's pretty nice, I mean he barely knew me but he seemed to genuinely feel sorry for me.
There are so many arrangements that had to be taken care of. It's nothing like TV where someone dies and then magically their funeral is set up and goes through without a problem. It's weird to have to order your own casket, tombstone and burial plot. Mom can't understand why I chose to do it myself but I know that she would never get any of these things done. She's really strong and whatnot but I know she'd probably crack under all of this. I don't think I could bear seeing my mother cry, especially if she was doing something to help me out.
Unfortunately all this work is making me really tired really fast so I'm going to go to sleep. I will write again tomorrow.