Worry

I told someone about this last night and, up until that point, I was quite fine with it all.  Now though, I'm not.  There is a shadow on my head, in my head?  Therefore Friday two weeks, or Friday fortnight, I'm going into hospital for a couple of hours of tests including an MRI.  

First thing that is scaring the pants of me is . . . the MRI.  I fucking hate tunnels.  Going through the port tunnel in Dublin is liable to kill me as I have to hold my breath until I get to the other side.  So to be stuck in a 'made to measure' tunnel doesn't fill me with the joys of spring.  Hmmm, also, it's a tight space.  What if my arse doesn't fit.  How embarrassing would that be?  Eh?

The second thing that is worrying me is, what if there is something causing that shadow.  And I'm not talking about a bunny making handshapes with a torch.  What if something is wrong?  I'm too young to be unwell.  I'm too young to be realllllly unwell.  

I grumble, like most others, about my life and how it could be better but I love it.  Warts (and snoring dog) and all.

I thought I was doing great.  Having not thought about this since the day the doctors 'hmmmmed' over my x-rays and various other bits and pieces of tests, a couple of months back but now???  Now I am a jittery bag of nerves.  Which means I am verging on being very unfuckingpleasnat with someone I know.  

I know all problems are relative.  Jesus, in the last 24 hours I;ve learnt of something that made me swell with admiration for a friend while having my heart break for her at the same time.  But some people are Just Never Fucking Happy.

Nothing is enough.

Nothing will never be enough.

I don't give a toss if they have a great heart anymore and if 'there's a lovely person in there'.  Pah.  Why should I have to waste my energies sifting through someone else's bullshit to find the nice person?  I do, however, like this person but I am tired of hearing of all their imagined slights.  So tired.  Feck, maybe the friend isn't making me tired it's, dum, dum, dum, 'THE SHADOW'.  Fuck, hope it's the friend.

My ma died when she was 54 exactly.  I will be exactly 40 soon.  I am not ready to be sick.  I am not ready to have something wrong with my favourite part of my body - my brain.   Unlike the rest of me, it's size remains constant and I love it for that.

Bollocks.  See?  Now I'm crying.  I'm crying because I'm afraid.  Not because of anything I know, more what I don't know.  I know people who are going through very heavy times right now.  Up to their oxters in heavy times and they are still smiling and keeping it together.  My shadow is turning me into a jittery, nervous wreck.   

The only shadows I like are those you get when you're walking in the sunshine.  Not the ones that lurk in the darkness, under the beds etc.  Especially not the one that is lurking in my fricking head.

Bastard shadow. 

p.s. Not telling any cakers I'm afraid of shadows, the bastards will start sending them to me in the post lol.