Yes, if you read my morning entry then you'll know the score. I am not diabetic after all. Good news. It surprised me though. I really thought it fit so well.

But no diabetes. And my blood percentage was fine. The nurse I talked to on the phone said that was a common issue if you felt tired a lot. My liver number (I'm not sure that's the correct english term though) was a little high. But not so high that it matters. The number is supposed to be less than 70 and I had 89. I have no idea what that means but she said it wasn't anything to consider.

Those were the three tests that were done. They hadn't got the last two ones back yet. I'll have to call again on Friday and see what they say. Hopefully there will be something there. I just would really like some medical explanation for the tiredness.

I'm glad I don't have diabetes though. I was expecting it so much that there is almost a kind of disappointment. But I'm glad I don't have to go through that.

I don't know what I'll do if the last two tests don't show anything either. But I'll talk to the doc if that happens. The nurse mentioned something about the doc writing down that he wanted me to give a urine sample maybe, so who knows. Maybe there will be more tests in the future.

After the doctor call I went to work. A standard day. When I did fitness one of the other young guys from the center came in. He put on music for his workout. Tupac. Hah. Oh dear. I said it was okay. It's not like I really minded. Just... it gets a little tiring when you hear repeated shotgun noises and choruses that go "hey nigger let's get it on niggah". And so on. No disrespect to the brothers. It was a mix CD I guess because one of the next songs was Danish. By Jokeren. Including the lovely line "undskyld ho". Which means "sorry ho". I just love the way we have taken the word "ho" into the Danish language. It doesn't at all sound ridiculous when some Danish wanna-be hip hopper uses it. Tupac must be turning in his grave.

The only white guy who should use the word ho is Santa. And that's that.

Later on Charlotte, the psych, called me in to her office. She gave me a copy of the typed up statement that she will send to the psychiatrists at the other Reva center. She told me it could take 2 months before they call me in to talk to me. And then after that they have to give me a diagnosis before they can possibly refer me to the anxiety clinic. So it will take a while. But it's in the works at least.

Yes, I hope all these talented doctors and psychiatrists can get me cured. Make me better, damnit.

And that's it. Time to go sleep soon. Skye is leaving tomorrow. Going on vacation with her family. I'll miss her. It's always very strange when she's not there. For years she has been a part of me. Even though we aren't physically together it's still very strange when she's not there. But I'll think of her and Sascha playing on the beach. Does that not sound like the description heaven? The sweetest girl and the sweetest dog in the world playing in the sand. I wish I could paint that.

But nitey nite now. Sleep tite.

np: nothing