All Better, I Guess

I got sick. The kind of sick where you have to go to a hospital and follow up after with a bunch of doctors and technicians, all of whom can't conceal their genuine concern. For about two months straight, not a day went by in which another trip to the emergency room didn't seem like a good idea.

I felt like I was going to fall over dead at any moment. The advice from the specialists was not to rule the hospital out, because I might be right. Clearly, I couldn't go to the emergency room every day. It's about $1,000 a visit, unpleasant, and not likely to help much. So I went to work and did my best not to die there.

The good news is I am now fully recovered from whatever that was. The doctors provided no official diagnosis. I have some hunches based on my own research, but nothing more than shrugs from the professionals. Well, shrugs and a bunch of costly medical bills.

Something about the experience has impacted me significantly. I wish I could say it has given me a renewed appreciation and zest for life. It hasn't. It's great to not feel so awful all the time, for sure. However, I'm left with a sense of being slightly off to the side of things. I don't know if that description makes sense, yet it's accurate. Presumably, this mild derealization should pass in time.

Child Psychology