Hurt hand, ignoring kidneys, overworking, migraines, tears.

Now my hand is joining in the "I'm going to bother you forever" club of my body parts. Typing is kinda painful, but I *have* to. I am blogging less, though, if you've noticed. That's why.

Remember that sprained wrist? Well, after six weeks of splinting it, I finally got back to my doctor. Looks like nothing was broken, but it still hurts a lot. (yes, even while on heavy narcotics on a daily basis). My doctor said that there seems to be inflammation of the thumb tendon (where I fell directly on it three times), leading down the wrist. Sometimes it is sooo sore. It is very hard to "rest" your dominant hand. The doctor gave me a referral for an x-ray. Haven't done that yet. She also told me that this sort of inflammation/ bone bruise can last up to a YEAR.
A break would have been simpler.

Besides the hand x-ray, there are lots of medical things I am not "caught up" with. I am so sick of it all. I have totally let the whole kidney disease thing fall away. Can't feel it, can't see it, why take care of it?
I am supposed to keep testing my kidney function every six months, and the tests are such a pain-in-the-...  . Not just the usual blood tests. Along with those is also a 24-hour urine catch. That is when you have to catch all your urine for 24 hours in a canister, then give in a sample from that canister, along with reporting how much was in the canister. Lovely. Either carry the canister with you where you go, or pick a day that you are home all day. Along with those lovely tests is also an uncomfortable ultrasound, and sometimes a CT scan. Making all the appointments, getting the right referrals, getting specimens to the lab at their appointed hours... makes anyone not want to deal with taking care of themselves.  It has been about two years since I've done the kidney tests. My doc got on me a bit to do it. Whatever.

I cried a lot today. The house is dirty, so I became a cold-hearted drill sergeant to get everyone moving to pick up after themselves. I personally swept the main floor, washed and squeegeed the the kitchen floor, and vacuumed the carpet. Oh, then watered the garden. Since I was outside with the garden hose already, the deck was filthy since the gas delivery guy made a mess over there. I sprayed water all over and cleaned that, too. When the kids came home, I made waffles for lunch, from scratch (there is no waffle mix here). Then went straight to making the dough for pizza and challot. By the time the dough was set and rising the final time, I was in so much pain (mostly my hand, actually), I called for our babysitter to come. She usually has off on Thursdays, because Robert is home. Robert is home, but is knee-deep in taxes. Thankfully our babysitter came to the rescue and finished making the pizzas and taking care of kids.

Oh, and to top it all off, the place where I had the cellulitis three months ago, on Gapey, is sore again. I think I found the point of entry on the skin graft. There is a little hole, which I thought was a "dead end", but now I realize that the soreness is coming from there. I'll consult with my doctor about how to close up that hole. Which brings me back to the conversation of closing Gapey, but I am *sooooo* not ready to talk about that. I wish I had time to stop and do it.

I think that is what this is about... no time to stop and do anything. I need so much sleep, it is insane. If I don't get it, I get migraines (of which I have had a few these past two weeks). I have four kids in the house, and each one has important issues that they need me to help them with. I have no time for anything. Got into a a huge knock-down-drag-out fight with one of my sons today. Not good. Both of us yelling at each other, both of us in tears. As they say, "small children, small problems, big children, big problems". You don't believe that until you live it. I always thought it was hardest thing to take care of infants and toddlers. They are so physically active, needy, and illogical. We need to teach and explain things every minute. Our main worries were their picky-eating habits and how to get them to potty train, and sleep enough so that we can be sane. I'm not undermining that holy work. It's just that the problems of teens are so intense and complicated.

Kind of like how being a survivor of a rare deadly disease, followed by another rare, painful disease, is also so intense. And complicated. And today, sad.

(next week I have to go to Tel Aviv for that MRA test- like an MRI, but for arteries, to evaluate my right hip for impingement surgery).