Back from the orthopaedist. You know, I was afraid of getting a shot, but what I was most afraid of was that they wouldn’t do anything at all.
Well, guess what?
All right, he didn’t do nothing, as such. He poked and pressed and twisted, and he’s booking me an ultrasound because he didn’t want to ‘jab in the blind’ - he did find a bursa that was probably inflamed, but that’s not where I hurt the most and he had no idea what’s causing me that pain. So, he says I’m getting an ultrasound. I thought, all right, brilliant! "But it won’t be before Christmas." At the point I kind of froze. Not before Christmas? I thought we’d do it right there and now. I must’ve gotten a look on my face, because he immediately said that he wished we could do it there, but it just doesn’t work that way. And I could feel my throat constricting and I started blinking, and he left while I got dressed. And the second he shut the door my eyes just started welling up. I couldn’t help it. I thought I could get fixed today. I did.
It took me a couple of minutes to pull myself together enough leave the room, and when I did he met me at the door - I think he must’ve seen how close to tears I was, because he said that he figured he’ll refer me to Malmö, which might be quicker.Got home, managed to hold it together until my dad left for work an hour ago, and then I started sobbing and haven’t been able to stop. I’ve just had enough of this. I want to go to England next year, and while I’m like this I CAN’T. You’re supposed to contact the farms where you want you to work at least a month in advance, and I can’t do that until I know if I’m actually going to be able to do it. And I want to go so bad. I NEED to go. This fucking thing is stopping me from living my life, and I hate it.
