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Probably because my depression is so tied up in feelings of anxiety, paranoia, and overwhelming terror, one of the things that makes me feel good is having medical tests done. I wanted to post an entry today that was a little cheerier than the last few, and going through old mood diary entries, I found this:

10th February:
Amazingly for the situation, I am in an excellent mood. 6/7? I have an embarrassing medical examination today (imagine a cervical smear that lasts 20 minutes, and examines the front AND back, and you’ll kinda have the idea) and I haven’t eaten since about 9 last night, and then it was only tea and toast, and yet, I am all sunshine and happiness. Bizarre. Will probably fade once I’m actually at the hospital.

But no! I just had x-ray dye inserted (via catheter!) into my bladder, porridge-like Barium inserted into my colon, and x-rays taken while I relaxed and tightened my pelvic floor muscles… and I was smiling and chatting the whole time. I mean, there was an element of nervous chatter to it, but… you could tell, they’d never seen anyone so happy to be having that particular examination. But it didn’t hurt, and there’s nothing hideously wrong with me (over-active pelvic floor, that’s all, I just need to learn to relax my internal muscles–big surprise, for the Queen of Anxiety…) anyways, it was good news all round, and I’m not squeamish about medical stuff at all (I just love being examined, it makes me feel safe, like if there was something wrong they’d catch it… hypochondriac). But, however, scooting right along, mood an 8 or even a 9, and now, I get to have Taybarns (for being brave and not complaining about being STARVED–it was fine, but Douglas overflows with sympathy at the horror, haha) and, well, just yay.

Maybe all those people who think I’m a weirdo are right, lol.