Two days ago, I *finally* got a call from the scheduler at UT Southwestern to set up my appointment. He cheerfully chirped, "Looks like we can see you sometime in... uhh... August!"
I chuckled and told him that if that's the soonest they could squeeze me in, I might as well not make an appointment at all, because I'll be completely paralyzed by then. I briefly outlined my issue, and he said, "Tell you what. I'll forward your information to the doctors and let them make a decision, and I'll call you back after that."
Whatevs, dude. Heard that before.
But then yesterday, just one day later, he called me back and said, "We can see you on May 18th!"
If I could've leaped for joy, I would've.
Now here's hoping that, when I go see this fancy-schmancy neurologist, he or she will be able to immediately get me the help I need. I mean, how hard is it to hook me up to some IV copper? Really? But it's like none of my current specialists have the first clue about that.
I am absolutely NOT going to be one of those Christians who spout the "everything happens for a reason" line of shite, because it's untrue. We live in a fallen, chaotic, broken world where crap happens to "good" people while "awesome" stuff happens to those considered undeserving. It just does. But I do know this -- that God will take this load of poo that's been shoveled atop my head and make it into an opportunity for blessing and grace and beauty.