RSVP to my pity party!

Well, I have good news and bad news. The good news is, I've been correctly diagnosed and am being treated for Interstitial Cystitis (IC), having suffered from it since the early nineties. The bad news? It totally sucks, you will probably have that TMI feeling after reading this, and there's no cure.
Long story short, IC's effects are similar to acid reflux, only in the bladder... wearing away of the mucous membrane to the point of ulcers. Lovely, no? They can be treated (but not repaired or even healed) with 'instills', flushing the bladder with a sodium bicarb/lidocaine/heparin solution with a catheter from time to time, and with an oral medication that may or may not make my hair fall out. And a diet. Now, I don't mean I stop eating one or two risky foods. I mean anything spicy, oniony, tangy (acidic), caffeinated, carbonated, or cooked with soy sauce... and my favorite, chocolate (unless it's white, which isn't even chocolate, folks). Fruit? I can have blueberries and melons (other than cantaloupes), and pretty much nothing else. Anything high in potassium aggravates it, too... bananas, tomatoes. The diet guide says to avoid Mexican, Indian, Chinese and Thai food. I am quite adventurous in matters of food, and I love sampling and cooking all sorts of ethnic cuisine. And now, I'm allowed little to no fun in my tummy. I'll be honest... when I first saw the IC diet, my reaction was something colorful that I won't repeat here. While I've gotten over the initial shock, my attitude has not changed, and neither has my diet.
Now, I know I will get through this. I know that everyone has struggles, and there are worse struggles than mine. I know I am blessed, and I know adversity makes me stronger. But right now, won't you throw a handful of confetti and wear a sparkly pointy hat for my own personal pity party?

I'd like to thank the academy...

...as I sheepishly accept my 3rd worst mom ever award. That's right, folks... I'm just above the Octomom and Joan Crawford. I took my daughter to school late for the second day in a row, and I signed her in wearing my tattered flannel jammie bottoms and a paint stained t-shirt. And as I'm typing this, my boy is watching the second Nickjr. program of what I'm sure will be several, and my youngest is screeching from the highchair. And my house, which was as close to immaculate as I've ever had it days ago, is quickly nearing the post tornado appearance yet again. And today, my husband and I have been lovingly putting up with each other for 9 years?
I have to say, this is not a moment I could foresee all those years ago. But still, I feel blessed with my life. I don't have all the things I once thought I would by now, yet I have so much more than I need. Life's pretty good.