Physiotherapy and Teenage parenthood

So, when my surgeon took off my casts for good, he told me that I wouldn't need physiotherapy, which struck me as sort of odd since I had forgotten how to walk and all.
My dad was also confused by this, so he went by the hospital and booked an appointment with the physiotherapists without asking me or my mom (my parents have been divorced since I was a baby. They are actually still really good friends, like they still talk and get along).
So now I have to go to physio.
I don't really want to. But whatever. I'll go.

In other news, a friend of mine's child was born one month ago today. Its pretty weird to think about that, since a year ago she was sitting behind me in grade nine art class.
Yes. She is 16. And has a child.
I don't know what I think about that. She's raising it alone, living with her dad.

It makes me feel less sorry for myself. I mean, a baby is more work than having CMT. Both are pretty perminate, though.

Duct Tape Solves Everything

Ever heard the saying 'If duct tape can't fix it, your'e scwreded?'. I think I agree. Because my laptop broke, and I fixed it with duct tape. I mean, I now have duct tape wrapped around my laptop, but it works. So duct tape does fix everything.
Except the things that I really need fixed.
Like my feet, which can barely hold my weight, even though I only weigh like 95 pounds.
Like my balance, which currently doesn't exsist.
Like my sister, who is in serious shit.
Like my mom, who has two different types of arthritis.
Like my stepdad, who is in chronic pain and also on the waiting list for pharscription pain medication addiction treatment.
Like my dad, who more or less just quit the job he's had for over 10 years, and is pretty screwed since his truck is broken down in a different city and he's losing hundreds, thousands of dollars on it.
Like my cat, for god's sake, who disapeared for 24 hours and came back terrified and covered in brusies.
Like the fact that no one in my imediate family has a job, and my mom just ran out of unemployment insurance, and my stepdad just got kicked off Workers Comp (I seriously am not surprised people keep shooting them and blowing them up).

Add that all together, and I guess its not so shocking that I woke up today and didn't move for the entire day. I just lay there and considered going back to sleep, but never did.

And now I'm conserned about my freaking mental health.

Oh yeah, and my best friend has voices in her head telling her to do things.

Maybe I ought to buy some more duct tape?

Shoes and Standing

I stood up. For half a second. Then I fell over. Now my feet hurt.
Yet another thing that's taking longer than the doctors said it would.
I have come to the decision my doctor is stupid. No offense to him.
But seriously. Half the things that come out of his mouth turn out to be wrong. Plus, now that I have my casts off and I'm looking at my feet, I think he moved the tendoin in the wrong one. Seriously.

On the upside, he was also wrong about my feet getting bigger after the surgery. Because I tried on an old pair of shoes, and my feet are still the same size, which, depending on the brand of shoes, is anywhere from size 3 to 5. I like having small feet.
Also, I don't need new shoes, which is nice. I could use more shoes (I have a pair of crocs, a pair of army boots, and a pair of flipflops), but I don't need them.
So thats good.

...I'm gonna try and stand up again.

Doctors and Depression

I went to my surgeon today, with no idea what he was going to do. People kept insisting that I must be getting my casts off now, since its been three months.
I doubted it. Everything about this damn thing has taken longer then the doctors told us.
It took me longer to be put to sleep for the surgery. It took me longer to be discharged from the hospital. It took me longer to kill off the infection I got. It took me longer to be able to get walking casts. It took me longer to actually use the walking casts. I figured it would be unlikly to be able to go home without any casts on.

But guess what! I was wrong. I no longer have any casts on. I don't have to go to my surgeon for months.
And now I'm depressed. Why? Why why why? Why does it make me depressed? I should be happy. Everyone else is happy. Or at least everyone is acting happy, and those that I texted used excamation points.
I'm hiding in my room now, because if I'm arounf people I'm expected to smile and be happy. And as good as I am at faking a smile, I can't right now.
I can't make myself put any weight on my feet. Not at this point. The doctor says I should be walking without crutches in two weeks at the most, but I doubt it. How can I walk if I can't put pressure on my feet?

Whatever. I'm just down today. It probably has nothing to do with my feet. More likly it has to do that my living room is full of things to put in silent auction prizes for a benefet for a old family friend about to die of brain/lung cancer. That and I only got three hours of sleep last night.
I'm going to go watch some of my Heroes on DVD. For some reason people running around trying to save the world (again and again... and again... and again) makes me feel better.

Doctors

Doctors. I have too many of them for someone my age. And I think my poor health is catching. The only friend I really have had gone to the doctor twice in five years when I started- well, I was gonna say 'hanging out with her', but really, its more like talking to her (even tho we had gone to the same school for eight years. And it wasn't a big school). Now she go's and see's a doctor every month, it seems, and now her doctor has sent her to a neurologist, for reasons that are very scary to me. Mostly because my grandmother listed them when she was telling me the symptoms of a brain tumor (yes, that is the type of conversation I have with my grandmother, who, by the way, is probably a narrsisist. Or a sociopath. No joke).
Anyways, she's going to a Neuroligist, so I was telling her mine is great, and she asked me how many doctors I actuslly had. Hence, another list.
-Dr. Kahanivitch, the doctor I go to when I'm sick. He's actually a horrible doctor (he give's away patient information, phone's in pharscriptions for pain medician without seeing the patient, and stuff like that)
-Dr. Lindsay, the doctor I go to when I need refills on my medication (Gabapenton, Prozac [for my mild OCD], and sleeping pills which I don't know the name of)
-Dr. Phearson (or something like that), my Orthopedic person.
-Dr. Skulsky, my awesome neuroligist. I was his first patient, wwhich might freak some people out, but I like it.
-Dr... her name escapes me, but she's a genetisist.
-Dr. Jellicoe, the surgeon I might hurt if it turns out he made my feet different sizes.
-Dr. Sam, who is a phyciatrist. She's nice. I get to talk about whatever, which I used to do with my dad's exgirlfriend, but, you know, she's ex now. Mostly because she stopped taking her pills and lost her mind. I kinda hope she started taking them again, but whatever. I mostly use Dr. Sam to complain about my stepdad, who is a better person than a lot of parents out there, but a lot worse also.

Anyways. I think I'm suffering from Grey's Anatomy withdrawl. My dad brought me the fourth season on DVD, and I watched it in two days, then went back and watched the first three seasons again. Now I'm done that. So I'm using my doctors instead. Ahhh.
Also, anyone see the Grey's season finaly? I was talking to a friend on MSN the entire time, and making her laugh at how much I was freaking out. She doesn't watch Grey's.

I have to go... sleep, maybe. Or make some eggs. One or the other.
Bye bye.