MRI – The Lupie Chick Project

Tomorrow I’m scheduled for an MRI, CT scan, and Sonogram. To be quite honest, I’m scared I would rather not go to the appointment, but gangster boo (my dr’s nurse) is gonna fight me if I THINK about rescheduling.

I’m getting tired of feeling like my body is being invaded by some sought of instrument or medication. I clearly understand that these tests are necessary for my treatment plan but I don’t have to like it or pretend to like it. I’ve rescheduled these tests 2 x’s over the last 2 weeks. Each time I was previously scheduled, I would feel like a million bucks- no need in fixing something that ain’t broke- right? WRONG……. the very next day after I would cancel the appointment(s), I would feel like negative .50 cents. My mind is playing tricks on me (in my Scarface voice), how can I feel like my ole self-{stepping up in the building like I paid the light bill} to the next day wanting to crawl under a rock. I felt so saucy one day- I actually went to work with a naked (face)-I didn’t wear any makeup. I prepped my face, caught a glimpse of myself and my alter ego said “Your Mz. Sixx Bish!”Rock OUT!!!

I put all the makeup away, pulled my hair up in a bun, whipped out my brand new pair of 5 inch stilettos’ and Naomi Campbell walked out of the house. On my way to work, the late mix was on the Russ Par Morning Show- and they played Biggie!!!! ** Ya’ll know I was wilding out in the car!!!!!- Diddy bopping and fist pumping down route 29.

Fast forward 4 hours

I looked and felt like Wanda

my feet were swollen and aching like I’d been stopping traffic with them, my face looked like I fell head first in a oil slick ( face was GREASY, and OILY) and my -oh -so -fly bun, looked like a busted ponytail done in the dark.

WTH?? Then to make me feel even worse- that gangster nurse at my doctors office called me and “set “me straight about the tests (I kept cancelling).

So, right now I’m (emotionally) eating everything under the sun, dropping a couple of tears, and attempting to pull it together. I’m scared, nauseous, and wish I could take a couple of ciroc shots.

I keep telling myself “Get thee behind me, Satan” as I make arrangements for transportation to/from my appointments tomorrow. I’m feeling weak & I dont want to go. I ask all of you to keep me prayed up and covered.