I had an appointment to see the gynecologist today.

God, I dreaded it. I'm still dreading it. I've got 2 weeks to find out if I'm getting a hysterectomy this time or not. So the spectre of cancer is hanging out again with me.

I hate that ghost bastard.

Pauline said I should have just gotten a hysterectomy the first time. In retrospect, I suppose she's right. I guess I feel like my body parts are at a premium and that I want to keep as many of them with me as I can because somehow if that that's what God gave me, I'm supposed to have a use for them.

It took me 8 months to make that appointment. Apparently, the steel is in my knee not my nerves.

When Dr. R asked me how I was doing, I cried. I'm depressed I told her. She said I should get counseling. That alone drugs or counseling help 50% of the time, but together they help 90% of the time. I just don't know if paying someone $150 to cry my heart out and feel sorry for myself is a good idea.

I also feel shifty around counselors as if I need to prove somehow that I don't need them and that I'm just fine, dammit. Only, I've been not fine for a long time and there's lots in my life to prove that -- my big ass not withstanding.

I've thought about going to an Overeaters Anonymous meeting, but I haven't been binging or purging. I'm eating pretty well and the painful neuropathy I was having in my legs is getting tons better. I'm also doing exercises in bed, so overall, I'm losing weight again.

I am massaging the adhesions in my knee as often as I can remember. Some of not remembering is avoidance -- I feel absolutely nauseous from toxins every time I do it. I have to do yoga breathing to avoid projective barfing, though the swelling is finally going down.

Mike got me an aquatard for my birthday. It's basically a thing I could bike in, but it's for swimming and it's so my big body feels contained in the water. I had gotten a nice 2 piece suit from Lands End that covered everything, but the skirt took forever to dry and was super heavy, even in the water. I had gotten some bike short bottoms and those lost some elasticity and were bunching on me and with the two pieces, the top wasn't giving me much support for floudering about in the water.

I wanted body coverage. I guess I like the sense of not showing people unwanted amounts of large white flesh if they don't want to see it. I've wanted a one piece, but the bottoms and top never fit right. I wanted boobage stability. I think the 'tard will help with that. And hell, it looks comfortable. As soon as that arrives, I'm going to start swimming again.

As for the depression, I guess I need to fess up and get a counselor.