The thing about focusing on one thing at a time is when that one thing finally seems to resolve itself and one gets a chance to look up, all the other things to be done are still there, waiting. Rebuilding my life is one of those complex undertakings. Now that the medical situation finally seems to have found an apparent solution with the German physician, other issues come popping back up with a vengeance.
One of those things is the major medical question I have been walking around with. Back in 2007 a first German clinic concluded based on MRI images that I have a closed-off vagina and it probably could be opened via reconstructive surgery (creating labia). A second German clinic confirmed this in 2008. Now with an apparently cooperative surgeon prepared to do things for me I would be crazy if I didn't discuss with him, right? I have suggested this to my friend Sandra as well, but so far I haven't heard a response on this yet. I think that it is something which should be discussed the coming weeks before I head off to Hamburg, Germany. If anything the physician can take a look at the MRI report and scans and tell me his thoughts. If I'm really lucky I'll be heading to Hamburg again then in a month time or so for the labia reconstruction. Maybe. Luck hasn't been on my side so far. It's just another source of stress now.
Since yesterday I have had this severe headache, nausea also while lying in bed, sudden strong pains - especially in the lower-right abdomen, where the undescended testicle is located - which instantly knock the breath out of me, and lots of pain in both hands due to the nerve damage. I'm feeling restless, agitated and apprehensive. I also feel like it's all moving too slow, that the help I was expecting to help me escape this country isn't forthcoming as I had hoped and basically that it's all just slipping away.
I guess I really don't feel like I'm part of reality. When I'm waving at people to get their attention they just can't see me. I'm just like a ghost. Already dead but still in denial of the fact. So very insubstantial.
And of course that I ended up like this, with permanent nerve damage, severe traumatic disorders and no prospect of a future is all my fault. As someone put it recently to me, it's all my deserved punishment for what I have done.
With the lack of help there is the distinct possibility that this statement is true. I really must be a horrible person. Right? I deserve the worst punishment imaginable. I should see everything around me crumble until I end up taking my own life while crying out the last drops of regret for my horrible actions.
Any other explanation defies reason.