Oscar the Grouch. That's how I refer to my cath when things don't go well, because he makes me grouchy. When everything proceeds easily, it's "Cathy"...heh.
Well, it's been Oscar who's been showing up lately. I'm not feeling well at all, and I don't want to go back to the urologist, because I'm not sure there's anything she can do. It just is what it is. Maybe I'm feeling a little sorry for myself today, because I can't seem to find any online support groups that don't have to do with men and prostate cancer. I can't seem to find any young-ish women like me who are having to do this. And when I have problems, I'm not sure if it's due to swelling inside (because of repeated problems inserting) or because my hands aren't working right. When your hands are clumsy and you drop things in the kitchen, that's one thing. When they're clumsy and you draw blood from delicate areas of your body, that's quite another.
And my neurologist is a quack. I don't know if I'm ever going to be properly diagnosed and treated. Maybe if they'd treat the underlying condition (most likely MS) that is causing me to have to do this in the first place, I'd eventually be able to stop doing it. Right now, today, this minute, it feels like a lifetime of tough moments stretching out before me. It's very depressing. I want to feel normal.
I think I'm going to take a little break and give my body some rest. The world will just have to be put on hold.
This just sucks.