Let me just blog this crap before I go to sleep, get it out of my mind. Make me stop feeling sorry for myself.

But first, let me preface this by saying that I have a lot of really good friends who are always looking out for me, and I know that in some platonic shape and form, I am loved. Let it be known that I am seriously grateful for your friendship. You guys know who you are.

But, yeah, I got to do a procedure today, my first spinal tap, and I got in my first shot, which was pretty cool, and, yeah, I mean, we all have to do them eventually, it’s a skill, meaning you can learn it, and sometimes you get it and sometimes you don’t, it’s a lot of luck, but I still felt pretty slick.

The thing that is sad and pathetic is that a little part of me is sad that there really isn’t anyone I can convey my little triumph to. I mean, sure, there is this blog. Hah. Sure, there are my friends. But, honestly, while the ones who are in health care might be momentarily impressed (and the ones who aren’t will have no idea what I’m talking about), it’s not the same. There is a difference between listening because you’re a good friend and caring because you’re a good friend, and actually, truly caring about whatever bullshit I’m talking about.

Like I’ve said time and time again, I need someone who has a stake in what I have to say But, still. If only life could be like this. Little triumphs and successes here and there. They’re like fuel for the soul. I need this small baby steps like I need oxygen.

Times like this, I wonder what it would be like if only I didn’t know what I was missing.

But as they say, I guess you can’t put the shit back into the horse.