Having had a bit of a break from writing, mostly because I’ve been writing reports during the time I’d usually blog, I’ve not actually told anyone that I went to the hospital yesterday.
I went because they have now analysed the muscle they took out of my leg – the biopsy. Which means they might know or not know whats wrong with me any better or what prognosis there is…
It is very difficult to know how you should feel about this when you’re 30 years old and mostly in your life all you’ve know is that you have a non-specific muscle disease. Part of me was quite excited – what could they tell me? What could they offer to help improve life? Could they know anything new?
At this point, I would hope for a drum roll… as the doctor scrolled through the MRI scan images, noting various muscles, bones and… my bladder.
So, first off, no, the biopsy showed nothing. Which means there is no change.
Secondly, its unlikely the girls are affected by my genes – phew.
Third, they’re checking the DNA for other things now…
Which kinda leaves me almost where I was before, except with a little more certainty over the girls.
But otherwise – I don’t know how I feel – am I happy? Annoyed? Sad?
This is it – I don’t know how I feel. It’s almost empty. I kinda wish they had told me something earth shattering… would have maybe given me something to complain about… because instead, I’m whinging about nothing.