Healing, or bitching, whichever

On Thursday I go to the neurologist and get a CAT scan. And hopefully these staples out of my head. My competence will be decided and I’ll be told if I can return to driving and work. I was feeling fairly confident in both these things, at least the work thing, but last Thursday my father and I went on a longer drive and I felt rather dizzy from looking out the window. Now, it was a 20 minute drive at least, at the end of the day, in a manual transmission, in the dark. I think all these things worked together to make me more sensitive.

Oddly, my reaction to the drive didn’t really make me question my ability. Then Sunday (or Monday) night, when my parents and I were talking about the appointment, my father said he didn’t think the neurologist would pass me.

Aside from the hurt I felt at not having my father’s support, I was grumpy, because as much as I love my parents and am grateful for their help through this difficult time, I’m SO ready to be gone. I’m used to living alone and they have their lives, which no longer fits me. I have a bed, but my laptop is set up in the dining room. They pretty much have the TV on as soon as they get home, leaving me no place for quiet in the evenings aside from the room I’m staying in, which is pretty much just the bed I’m using.

I want to go home. To my home. My apartment. Where I can walk a mile and get pretty much everything I want. Currently I’m trapped in the house. There are no sidewalks so it’s unsafe for me to walk anywhere, and there isn’t really anywhere to walk. My outside exposure is walking to get the mail. Exercise requires getting in a car and driving 10 minutes to the gym so I can walk in circles on the track. I only have a set number of clothes with me and whether it’s rational or not, I feel like their house is constantly cold. Thus I feel cold.

Plus they have tons more food here that I munch on constantly.

I realize these are all minor complaints and even if I move home I need to work out things like how to get to PT and work (if I’m allowed back at work), especially if I can’t drive. There are benefits to staying with my parents, but it also feels debilitating. I know the body needs to heal and I can’t rush it just because I want to get back to my normal life, but patience is not my strong suit.

And I’m really tired of looking out the same windows.

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