I started therapy. Well, physical therapy. I've had tension headaches off and on for years. I finally asked my "regular" doctor (that would be my non-blood, non-cancer doctor) what I could do about them, and she sent me to a physical therapist who specializes in headaches. Today was my first appointment. I had to fill out one of those forms that says, "Have you ever been diagnosed with (long list of horrible diseases)" and for the first time ever, I had to circle "Yes" on the cancer spot. That was fun. It's like I simply can't get enough of all of this medical stuff. If I'm not going to them, they're coming to me: When I got home from the appointment, there was a message on the machine from my old bone-marrow-transplant case worker, who I haven't heard from in months, checking to make sure I was still alive, I guess.
Anyway, the therapist and I were chatting about WCB, and I told her that she doesn't walk yet. Remember those steps I got so excited about a few weeks ago? Yeah, she only takes, like, two a day, and then decides she's done. I still don't count it as walking.
"Oh, I once had a patient who didn't walk until 19 months," said the therapist. "Then, when she was an adult, she got these terrible migraine headaches. It turns out .... SHE WAS MISSING A PART OF HER BRAIN."
"A PART OF HER BRAIN?" I said.
"Yes," said the therapist. "A part of her brain. And her only symptom was late walking."
Great. As if I wasn't tense enough. Pretty soon I'll have to start non-physical therapy.