Today I realized that I haven't been feeling much in the past week.
Today marks the one week anniversary of my (second) trip to the ER, and I'm feeling a lot better, physically. I have been taking walks outside with my mom and dog ever since the weekend, but last night for the first time since this whole mishegas began I actually "went out." RU took me to Cosi-- a restaurant that has its menu's nutrition information on the website so I could look up the fat content-- and it was great! I felt like a real person (although I was not wearing my usual clothing because of the inflated belly), like I have a life.
But then I came home and... nothing.
It's interesting. Although last week I experienced the most intense physical pain I have ever experienced in my life, I didn't shed a tear until they were wheeling me off to surgery and my parents and boyfriend said "I love you"-- something my parents never say to me.
[It's been about 15 minutes since I wrote that last sentence and I am still staring at my screen unable to come up with a next one.]