This was edited in April 2014 from its original that was first published as part of my June 2002 letter.
This, my dear readers, is a letter a long time in coming, and for good reason. If you recall in my last epistle I wrote endlessly about my disgust at getting sick for my big 30th birthday celebration. Soon after I decided not to write again until I had returned to health. Of course, the fact that you are now receiving a new letter would suggest that I am healthy once again. If only that was the case. Man, turning 30 is a bitch!!! It’s like I went from 29 to 109 in a couple days.
Yes, I am still sick. It is now 3.5 months and counting. I’ve been to the doctor three times, had numerous tests, and still feel like crap more times than not. Okay, that may be a little harsh, but I’m grumpy right now so I’ll exaggerate at my leisure! I just get tired far too easily and have an odd tightness in my throat that worsens the more tired I am. You know how you feel at four in the morning if you’ve been up the whole night? That’s how I’ve been feeling at about eight at night. And if I do any kind of physical activity, everything gets worse.
And no, I don’t have mono. I’ve been tested twice now, and I ain’t got it. Nor do I have hepatitis, Epstein-Barr, thyroid deficiencies, iron deficiencies, blah-blah-blah deficiencies. I’m not even pregnant! I had an ultra-sound too and nothing came up on that either (although, I’m still not sure if I would have found out the sex of the baby at the time). In fact, according to my doctor I am damn near the perfect physical specimen. Well, I’m healthy at least. All the cups of pee and vials of blood I’ve donated to the local laboratory have provided me with the reassuring diagnosis that I am not at all sick. This was wonderful news except for the fact that I am sick. And not sick as in perverse, although an argument could be made for such statement. I mean sick as in not feeling like the superhuman I apparently am.
Now, I will be honest and admit that I’m significantly better than I was for my birthday. However, I am far from being myself. Oh, and now that it’s been more than three months, I am also far from patient with this crap! And since there is no sign of this ending soon, I decided I had better write a letter anyway.