A Special Hell

“…any information, even stuff I’d rather not know is better than none.”

Andy Weir

This last week of 2022 has been especially difficult for both David and myself. Neither of us are sleeping particularly well and we are both having anxiety dreams. It feels like we are back in the earliest days of the pandemic, when we knew things were going wrong, but there was a vacuum of information. We carefully examine everything I vent, completely uncertain of what it means. But it is rarely comforting. It continues to be a rusty red, but without any bright red. Last night and this morning I vented dark brown, almost black sludge. Was is the M&Ms I ate last evening? If so, there was no evidence of the dye from the candy covering. But I can’t rule it out

We are both emotionally and physically exhausted with no banana bread or sourdough starters to distract us. And the timing couldn’t be worse. Once again, it is the Friday before a holiday weekend. The absolute worst time to have to go to the ER. Especially knowing that all they will do is draw blood every 4-6 hours while we get constantly rearranged in the never-ending game of ER tetris.

The problem is that we are working without any parameters. None of the bleeds have been particularly big, but they have been daily occurrences. Is my body able to rebuild my hemoglobin if I am bleeding at a slow rate, even if I don’t see any bright red blood?

I called my doctor’s office again today to ask specifically if there is anything I should be doing between now and my appointment on the 17th, but I am fairly sure that the nurse practitioner is going to give me the same vague response. But I don’t know what else to do.

What I do know is that this level of heightened anxiety is detrimental to both of us. Neither of us have the reserves we need to be dealing with such a significant situation without any medical support.