Damn.

I hurt again.

I like to tell people that I don't get sick very often, usually when I'm bragging about the health benefits of a vegan diet. But I do get sick a lot--just not with the flu or a cold or all of the other upper respiratory infections that seem to plague everyone else I know.

I understand why everyone who's not young and strong and strapping talks about having your health like it's some fabulous asset. I really think feeling healthy is hard to appreciate until you're sick. I really only feel well like half of the time, but as soon as I feel better, I forget about how serious a problem it really is to be sick.

Right now, I'm starting to feel crappy again, and once again I'm seriously frustrated and worried and scared about how often I get bladder infections. What's worse, it's hard to get the sympathy--and the appropriate excuses--that come with being sick because it's inappropriate to talk about my bladder. If I have the flu it's no problem. I can tell my boss what's going on and everyone will understand why I'm not at work. But talking about my bladder is awkward, and at the same time, I feel like I have to explain what's going on because I don't want it to look like I'm constantly disappearing from the office without good reason. By the time I make the tenth trip to the pharmacy or to see my doctor in a short period of time, I feel like I've got some explaining to do.

Although only a small number of people read my little blog, I still feel embarrassed to post on a potentially public place about my recurring bladder infections. I'm doing it anyway because I know this is a dangerous and incredibly painful problem that happens to other women and I want to bring it up wherever I can. While I'm still frightened about it, I feel less alone, confused, and frustrated since I've met another woman who has the same problem, who has to deal with the sickness from taking antibiotics strong enough to cure a horse, and who deals with the general nausea from taking lower doses of antibiotics every single day for the rest of her life, who makes the decision to cut way back on several of the basic joys that really make adult life good and hopes other people can understand, and then still wakes up in the middle of the night in searing pain.

Here's hoping this one doesn't get bad and clears up fast, and I'm saying a little prayer that this isn't *the one* that has finally become resistant to every antibiotic that exists. I've been warned that it may come, and my doctor won't even tell me what happens then.