Belinda, My Sweet...Sweet...Belinda

Sometimes we all go through things that are just not fun. Sometimes, I try to make funny the things that are just not fun, which is why I've decided to name my newly found friend on my lung. We'll call her Belinda, the blood clot. She's a real pain, I'll tell you, but I have so much to be grateful for. I'm grateful there are doctors who know what they are doing, tests that can detect these little "friends", modern technology that creates research and medicine to treat them, family that stay up till 3 in the morning with you at the hospital (and stock your fridge with milk, juice, bananas, cookies, and pastries!), a mother who calls 4-5 times an hour asking for updates, a sister who scratches your back for an hour, a brother who immediately starts googling P.E, stranger missionaries from the church who give you a blessing, an old friend who can relate to you, and countless prayers from everyone. I knew people loved me, but I had no idea how much. I'm frustrated because I can't run for awhile. In fact, I took Monday-Wednesday off just because of the new medicine. I started feeling okay tonight, so I did a test run. I ran from my apartment to the lounge...and immediately regretted it. I don't know if it was the pizza and ice cream I ate right before at Enrichment Night or the 30 second jogging session, but it's safe to say I'll be taking the next few days extra easy. I was reading some literature the nurses gave me on Tuesday morning before I left the Resort (hospital room) I was staying at. One of the side effects of the blood thinners is unexplained rapid weight gain. So, on top of not being able to run, I'm probably going to go crazy with thinking my waist line is increasing. I thought about starving myself, but I only lasted till 9:30 am--and I woke up at 9:20 am this morning. The only other option is to take the stairs, pray for warm weather to play with my kids outside, and cross my fingers that the doctor will tell me I can start running again next week. (And, of course, quit eating ice cream, pizza, and candy bars like I normally can when I am running 30-40 miles a week.) Anyway, Belinda is my new friend. And, since she's decided to take up camp in my body, I figure I should learn as much about her as possible. Like, I know she gets irritated when I say it's time for bed, and she'll throw tantrums in the form of flare ups in my upper back. And, when I eat too much she throws fits in my chest cavity and lower back. I'm sure we'll get along just fine when I take her on a long run next month...hopefully in the form of her being dissolved by then. It's really not the end of the world, I know, but it sure slows me down. I guess now I'll have more time to build model airplanes, take long baths, read my comic books, scrap book, write my autobiography, shop at antique and second-hand stores, embroider my kitchen towels, etc. I'm pretty sure my friends at the plasma center will miss me, but I'll catch up with them in 2-3 years when the doctor said I might be able to go back in. This is also forcing me to find another second source of income. There's only one other way I can think of to sell your body for money, but that way is a lot less safe and ten times more risky and immoral than donating plasma. Maybe the local IHOPS is still hiring for the morning shift? I'll keep you updated.