I think you're better now.

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I don't think I will ever enjoy going to the doctor. Like the dentist, I always leave with a problem I didn't know I had, and I have to pay for it. I hate that my grandma has to go wait in line at six in the morning to get an hour to come back, and then they can ask me the same old questions and I can recite the same old answers. Yes, I know I eat badly, I sleep over twelve hours a day, I know it's not normal to always be tired. I don't know if the pills have anything to do with it, I though that was your job to tell me. They don't like the last one that much, but I am frustrated with the entire process. Plus then there is the doubt, that if they can't fix you or find what's wrong with you, will anyone? Is it all in your head?
I went to the doctor before my foot accident, to get blood work done. After self diagnosing myself with several blood diseases (thank you google) I went back to have them decode my results; because somethings were high and some were low. My doc told me she didn't know what was wrong with me, and my grandma had to explain the whole backstory; how I was a gringa and how I had already been treated. Doc looked me over and told me to get organized, or else the hamburgers I eat at two AM will make me blow up like a balloon. But other than that, I was healthy. Leaving the office, I wanted to cry. It's always been such a sensitive subject for me, and I hated talking about it with anyone. Especially doctors who try take away my hamburgers.
Today Mom called and told us that they were evaluating my brother on Wednesday. The only evaluations available here start in July, and that means I can't get answers yet. Mom said it was fine though, because I am okay. I am okay right? Megan tell me if you are okay. Are you mad? No, mother, I am not mad, it wouldn't make sense to be mad. And even though it doesn't make any sense I feel crappy and continue to tightly knit my hat, choking down anything that I want to say because it wouldn't make any sense.

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