Here we go...

So tomorrow we go to the neurologist for Kory. My stomach is in knots and I can't stop eating. My kid's trauma is going to make me fat. If I didn't know before that I was an emotional eater, I'd have to accept it now. I hate waiting. I dread what we will find out. More than that, I'm afraid of what we won't find out. I fear that they will ask a lot of questions and send me home with very little comfort. Is it me, or does years and years of medical school make doctors somehow less human? Haven't you ever felt like the doctor was a little too objective? Haven't you ever wanted to smack him out of his nonchalance and yell, "This Matters to me, you detached robot!" I do. I'll probably restrain myself. If not, that will make a far more entertaining blog. Do they let you blog in jail?