My imaginary puppy and I are still sick.

Turns out, the mystery illness of the last few months is more than one illness, and neither one such a mystery, but both are still pretty miserable.  So I have to repair the lining of my stomach and get some physical therapy for my back, which is better than having some unknown cancer or life-long condition like IBS.

So go me, I'm only a little broken.

I'm going to see the Citizen Cane of Stripper Movies (which is not Showgirls, if you can believe it) for girls' night to feel better. Because how could this not make you feel better:



It's all the fun of going to see a strip show, without any of the shame, regret and creepy desperation of that going to a real one would bring.

I'm still having unexplainable symptoms of something, and it's driving me just a touch bat-shit-crazy.

Just a touch.

There is a very rational part of my brain that says things like "Melissa, you are not that sick. You need to eat better, get plenty of rest, and this will all go away. You do not have anything life threatening."

The problem is that the rational part of my brain, let's call her "Doris" because I think that's funny, is sort of a boring, matronly gal. The completely irrational part of my brain, we'll call her "Rita" because I also think that's funny, is a hypochondriac in a short skirt.

Doris and Rita are locked in eternal battle. Doris tells me that I need to get over myself and stop Googling my symptoms. Rita would have me believe I've got several forms of cancer. 

And since I've been going to see the doctor, and neither she or the emergency room staff can as of yet tell me what's wrong with me, I'm way past being freaked out. In other words: Rita is having a field day, imagining that I've got something very tragic and hard to detect.

Especially since I thought I was getting better, and today I am clearly not.

This what seems to be true:

 Sometimes I have a lot of pain, but with a few rare exceptions, it's at most like a six on the scale of 1 to "I want my mommy."

The pain feels like it moves to various places in my abdomen. First it felt like kidney and back pain, then, stomach, then it felt like my intestines were burning up, and now, it's just a sort of vagueish-middleish sore spot.

I haven't had a fever, although I may have one now.

I have a strong suspicion that this is connected to what I'm eating, but I haven't yet found a pattern.

The CT scan showed nothing, except a "pulmonary nodule." Don't Google that, you'll have lung cancer. True story.

Anyhow, I have an appointment to see a specialist on Thursday and I'm going to try to not psych myself out in the two days in between.