One of those days

Yesterday, was one of those days. Where I stressed and disappointed and home sick all at once. I started out the day finishing up my PhD application and the application for the ORSAS funding which usually goes to science applicants rather than arts, or so I've been told by people other than my professor who encouraged me to apply--so who knows.

I applied online for the PhD but I needed to take the ORSAS application into the office, so I hurried off to the office around 2, dropped it off, then headed to the bus stop to hitch a ride to the hospital for my check up. Well, the bus only takes exact change so my 10 quid didn't really work and I ended up taking the subway to Govan and catching a bus there; which was waiting at the stop when I got there. PERFECT, right?

Well alls well until I realise the hospital has 3 bus stops with in it. I get off at the wrong one and desperately look around for the Neurology building which I haven't been to since I was released from the acute stroke ward. I go into one building to ask about it, they point me in the right direction, and I carry on. Then it starts to hail. I've never been caught outside in the hail but that fucking sucked. I've also dealt with strong winds in Kansas, but I was nearly knocked over with the sheer force of the wind making my face sting. I had my gloves on and was desperately pulling my hat down and my scarf up. I go into the Neurosurgery/neuro whatever the fuck building, but oh yeah, it's not the right one. So I have to run in the hail across the street to the right building. Get there, forget the name of the doctor I'm supposed to be seeing, finally figure out where I'm going, sit down, and shiver to death. Seriously, I was soaked to the bone and freezing. It didn't help that the doctor kept his windows open because his "mind works better when it's chilly." So, I shiver in my wet jeans as he tells me he won't see me again till May, then he'll scan my brain, but he wants to keep me on the blood thinners for close to a year.

Great, exactly the opposite of what I wanted to hear. I say fuck it to the bus and subway and call a cab, where I try to fight back the tears of frustration. Get let out on my street, grab some food (I've been living off cereal because I'm being cheap) and finally come in, undress, jump under the covers and cry.

I really really don't want to be on these blood thinners for a year. I was told it would be 6 months to a year, but now the doctor is basically saying it'll be a year or more... oh wait maybe 11 months. If i'm lucky I'll be off it by my birthday.

There's a part of me that wants to blame Scotland, to say "if I had never come here this never would have happened." But I know that's not true. It would have happened any where, the bright side is once again I don't have to pay so it's better in a way to have had it here. I'm still depressed about it though. Yesterday I just wanted to go home so bad. I wanted to curl up with my dog and cat under some blankets and call it quits for awhile.

I reached my breaking point, but there's not much I can do about it now. Already signed over the loans to pay for this semester, and I would probably end up miserable no matter where I went because I would still be dealing with this blood clot and daily reminders of nearly dying.

It'll get better, I was just really hoping that doctor's appointment would go better. That he would have scanned me yesterday and giving me only a few more months on it instead of 9. Oh well, I know, it's better to have a year of this rather than the rest of my life, but still. I just want it to be over.