late night (early morning) randomness....
Starbucks. Tall. Java. Chip. 10:00pm.
Need I say more?
It is now 2:36am, and I cannot get my legs to stop jumping (the most recent in a long list of hormone-related problems). This particular "quirk" seems to be exacerbated by caffeine. Who knew?
It's been a rough couple days.
PMS has rocked our tiny household and left a mass of wounded victims in is wake. My husband, most wounded of all.
I have gone walking/jogging a good bit recently (something I have never enjoyed doing in the past). And I find myself, on these jogs, praying desperately for the Lord to help me be a better wife.
I set small goals for myself. Example: Tomorrow's goal is... to go ONE DAY without raising my voice.
I am almost embarrassed to say how difficult this is for me. I yell at my daughter when she gets in the trash can or puts another rock in her mouth. I yell at my husband when he doesn't want to turn the A/C down in July in Georgia.
I yell. A lot.
It's not something I'm proud of.
Sometimes, it's like I'm inside my body, just watching and listening to what my body is doing. I'm thinking, "I'm really not this upset. I don't have to act this way." Yet, I somehow feel powerless to stop it.
And, honestly, it usually only happens when the hormones are running wild and free.
Still, I have felt a change in my spirit while taking these runs.
Hormones are no excuse. PMS is not an excuse.
Sure, those rampant "drugs" coursing through my body don't make life any easier. But they don't control me. They don't take over my mouth and MAKE me yell at my family. I choose to do it. And I choose to use the hormones as an excuse.
I have my appointment on Tuesday, and things may get worse before they get better.
So I need to decide now, that those hormones aren't going to control me.
That the fruit of the Spirit is self-control. I want that fruit.
.....
Speaking of the doctor. I told my MIL today that I was going to this particular doctor on Tuesday. I told her about the lady that told my mom about him. I told her how that lady said she was feeling better now than she had felt in seven years.
MIL said, "when did you have that conversation with her?"
I said, "a couple months ago."
She said, "well, you might want to ask her again. The last time I talked with her, she said she wasn't feeling any better, and she felt like this doctor was just trying to sell her HIS drugs. I've also talked with so-and-so and whats-her-name, and they both said the same thing. They both got the same diagnosis and prescription, and now they're both changing doctors."
I almost cried as I heard her saying those things.
It has taken me SIX MONTHS to finally work up the courage to call this guy, and two days after I schedule the appointment, I hear that he's a crock who just wants people's money.
Still, I'm keeping the appointment.
I will let him do the tests. I will get his opinion. Then I will ask him to refer me to a Pituitary specialist.
I'm so discouraged tonight. And confused.
But I also don't see it as an accident that this is the timing. It seems as though the enemy will do anything he can to keep me sick.
And I'm not going to let it happen.
Quite frankly, I see no other option. I have no idea who else I can call besides this doctor. And I don't take lightly that he himself has been "sick" like this too.
So. I'm keeping the appointment. But I'm keeping a wary eye open for any "foul play."
Sheesh.
As if this appointment wasn't scary enough. Any volunteers out there wanna come hold my hand?
...........
Ok, ya'll, I THINK I'm finally tired. So I'm off to bed to try and get some sleep.
TTFN