Inching along

 Yesterday after five phone calls (!) I was able to get an appointment finally scheduled with the surgeon about my biopsy.

This isn't the actual biopsy, but a consultation to "see if the surgeon can do it."

My lymph nodes aren't easily accessible apparently.  To which I say, well, you're a surgeon right?  Dig a little deeper?

I obviously don't understand it all, but I don't need to.  I just need someone who does.

The more tests I have and the more conversations I have about the results, the more confused I get.  It isn't cut and dried.  The tests that hopefully will give the full picture don't.  I am trying (50% succeeding) to not worry about it, to be optimistic, to know that God is in His heaven and I don't need to have it all in hand.

I feel a rising panic about all the stuff that isn't getting done, both at home and at school.

I am used to being competent.  I am used to being on top of things.  I am used to striving and achieving.

And I am not.

I am over here doing the bare minimum and only what is most urgent.  A lot of stuff is falling through the cracks and if I were someone advising me I would say, "It's OK.  It doesn't have to be perfect.  Just do what you can."

But that is really hard advice to take.  

Take it I must, because I am so tired.  All of the time.  Everything is really hard when it feels like you have cement shoes and a cotton ball brain.

I'll keep doing what I can.  I'll keep inching along.