Monday Morning Blues

I guess I'm feeling pretty decent...for a Monday. I've been having some issues of late with food getting stuck, vomiting, nausea. Last week at support group I asked others if they ever started experiencing these things kind of suddenly after having no issues for many months. The consensus was that I needed to call and see Dr. B. I called on Tuesday morning, went in Tuesday afternoon and had an endoscopy Friday with Dr. K. The result? Completely normal anatomy (pouch, staples, hook-ups, etc.) for post-RNY. Good, no GREAT, news. But, it leaves me wondering why the heck I've been having the occasional pain, the frequent episodes of food getting stuck, more frequent vomiting than I've had in at least 7 months? I have no answers...and now, I feel like I must be a hypochondriac. There's a reason why I don't call the doc without someone telling me I probably should...because I'm afraid I won't be believed because there will be nothing found. I actually usually feel surprised when a doctor comes back and says "yes, there's XYZ and this is why you're having this problem." I remember being almost damn near shocked when I had a tubal pregnancy back in 1992...as if to say "oh, you mean there really WAS a reason I was in this much pain? Really???" Yes, I suspect I know where this comes from...does it make it any easier to deal with? Nope.

I had a date on Saturday night. It was good conversation. I suspect, however, that I won't likely hear from him again. Gut feeling. But that's ok...it was good practice for getting out, meeting someone new, making conversation, and being generally more at ease with myself. I really hate dating...have I mentioned that?

I don't think the change in my dosage of Cymbalta is making a bit of difference...except perhaps I'm sleeping even more poorly than usual, so I'm taking my Ambien almost nightly. My feeling of melancholy is very much alive and well. Some days, more than others. And it means that I'm having to make sure I focus on all the reasons that I'm a decent mother, instead of dwelling on how I feel like a crappy mother who doesn't spend enough quality time with her child. Some days, I feel grossly inept at this parenting thing, as I'm sure we all do. I remind myself that this too shall pass, and with any luck, I won't have irreparably damaged my kid by the time he's grown. I can hope, right?