I'm on holidays, really on holidays for the first time in a long
time; at least it feels that way. I have nothing pressing to do,
no work, no studying, just nothing. So I'm just going to sit
here for awhile and write.
Last week, I went to see Jolanta, my new doctor, an nold student
of mine. I wish I had found her years ago. I have utter
confidence in her. She did a series of tests and discovered that
my cervix was infected, that I had fibrocystic breasts and she
couldn't figure out why I have discharge but it has nothing to do
with my hormones. I have to go for more tests in July and
August. Gilles tells me I'm perfectly healthy and that
everything will be negative but I don't know. On the days I'm
tired of living, I sort of wish maybe there was something,
something terminal so I could finally get that rest I've been
meaning to take for years and years; so that I can start my life
anew, more confident, and do the things I'd intended on doing.
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