As much of an update as I can manage.

A lot of stuff has happened in the last two months, all of which has added heavy weights to limbs scratching for the surface of my depression. I’m going to try to put piece it together so I can attempt to make sense of it all.

·         Some friends and I are dealing with the loss of connection with another of our tribe. Some feel that we’re not good enough, all of us are concerned, and some are angry and hurt, or confused. It’s hard not to feel resentment and angry toward the things that created that loss. Maybe it isn’t for us to know or understand. We’ll just have to nurse hurts, pick ourselves up on our end, and love said friend as we always have. But things are different, I feel it, I know it, and I’m still struggling with a lot of it.

·         I’ve had an overwhelming sense of feeling lost. I can’t explain it. I’m not sure which way to turn and can’t seem to decide which path is best because they all look damning. Doesn’t help when others keep stepping in to decide for you and will not shut up long enough for you to actually think and make the decisions you know you can make for yourself if only they would let you breathe.

I am angry because people want me to tell them what I need but how can I say when I don't even know? I do not expect people to be mind readers. I don't expect them to fix it all for me- its not their job and I don't want them to. I know I don't think and feel the same everyone else does, but damn, does anyone have to know the answers or know what they need? Perhaps I am being selfish in my slow sink and not considering others' feelings. But I thought I was by not wanting to bother them and drag the down with me. If that's wrong, I wish someone would tell me. 

·         In-laws have taken over my house and I was powerless to stop them. So, in classic fashion, I rebelled a little and refused to do much of anything. Which in turn got Amanda chewed out. Which then, in turn, got me chewed out. But what else are you supposed to do when the people around you are sucking the joy from your bones? And then, to top it off come snide comments. Fuck you, you won, shut the fuck up and leave me the fuck alone!

·         I had to change medical insurance to keep my therapist because the company I had was doing shady things and about to get into trouble. In doing so, I had to report that Amanda and I got married. That cost me my medical insurance.

·         My stress began manifesting in hot patches of skin and hives.

·         My therapist badgered me to seek out new health insurance and I spent two weeks fighting with the market place people trying to find something we could afford. There is NOTHING we can afford. The deductible is 2 grand, the monthly cost just for me is more than we can swing. There just isn’t money for it. PERIOD.

·         I had a gall bladder attack and ended up in the ER, not know what the hell was going on only that I couldn’t breathe and was passing out.

·         I learned my Grandpa had fallen while sick.

·         My Grandpa died either the next day or the day after- I can’t really remember.

·         We flew to Kansas and spent 4 days. The only blessing was feeling my Grandpa sit down beside me at his funeral, seeing my Grandma, and my parents and cousins for a tiny bit.

·         My Grandma told me every day I was there that Grandpa wished he could have seen me before he died, because I was his girl.

·         Came home and losing Grandpa began to finally register. I couldn’t deal, so I threw myself desperately into writing. It’s the only thing keeping me together.

·         A couple of days later I had another gall bladder attack which resulted in surgery that evening.

·         I did not handle the anesthesia well. There are bruises on my body I can’t account for and the medical staff told me I woke up “wild” and that they had to bring two extra nurses in to hold me down. I did not know where I was or what was going on. I’m scared I hurt someone because if that much effort was used to keep me still, I came out fighting.

·         I got to go home the next day and accident slept on my stomach that night.

·         Second day after surgery was hell. It was not the worst pain I have felt, but close, and bad enough that I was panicking and scared the shit out of Amanda’s Mom. I could not remember when I had taken aleve or when I had taken a pain pill or how many. She counted them and said I was okay, but it was still scary. I’m ALWAYS so careful with pain meds.

·         I’ve been having horrible nightmares since surgery, the kind that leave you upset for days.

·         One of the pieces of tape over my incision sites fell off too soon and I had to put something over it to help keep the wound closed and prevent infection.  

·         I’ve been freaking out a little over the fact that I have been sleeping so much- even though I know I need sleep to heal- and losing writing time.

·         We just learned that my depression/fibro med is going t cost us 240 dollars a month with a prescription assistance card for the generic. We couldn’t afford 130 a month for medical insurance. So now we have to find a different depression med and a medication for fibro that won’t make me gain all the weight I just lost back, that s affordable, or see if there isn’t something- some program- out there to help me stay on my meds. Being without them isn’t an option right now.

·         And I am without my meds today. I’m starting to go through withdrawal while Amanda scrambles at work to find out if an online discount pharmacy is a legitimate and the real deal.

·         I just learned from one of my best friends what she might have ovarian cancer and that there is something wrong with her youngest daughter’s spine. She doesn’t have test results back yet for her or her daughter.

·         I’m worried about my parents and my Grandma. I’m worried about my friend and her kids.

·         I’m worried about the two hospital bills.

The good news:

-          I’m writing  

-          I’m getting lost in music

-          I still love my in laws and am thankful for them taking care of me when I’m sick. At least there is that.

-          Amanda is amazing and she’s putting up with me.

-          UPDATE on meds: Amanda got it worked out and my doctor’s office was super helpful to her.    

You know it's bad when... Writing, healing.

I am still entrenched in the world of Fullmetal Alchemist in that I freaking love it, its on my list of fictional places I wish I could live in, and I am still re-writing a fanfic I wrote over 11 years ago. I'm hitting the 200 page mark with it and thought I would end somewhere around 300, but it's starting to look like it might run into 400 pages. Apparently this story needs retold. This story keeps getting away from me. I have a direction but the characters keep deviating here and there. It's fine, I don't mind so much. 

I have been writing pretty much constantly. When I'm not, I feel it pulling me back, but sometimes I need a break, I need sleep, and I have to pay attention to Amanda. I will create or find a balance between writing and the rest of my life, but for now, because I'm finally writing again, actually writing and not forcing word vomit onto paper, I am enjoying it and running with it. I think part of me is afriad that if I stop, I'll never start again and that horrible feeling like the one thing of my choosing that gives me purpose or some thing will leave and that will be it. It will be done and gone and I'll never get it back again. But that's probably depression talking. 

Since my surgery I have trying to take it easy. I haven't been able to lay down yet, so I've been sleeping sitting up, on my sofa. During the day, I generally sit at my desk to work.The other night I thought I popped a stitch when I sat down. Something snapped and it hurt bad enough that I screamed  a little. I don't do that. I don't even really complain when I hurt- which has been a source of trouble lately- and the way I felt when it happened was scary. I decided that if I still felt the pain the next day, I would call my surgeon. The next day came and Amanda and Fiona (who is visiting) made me call when I didn't want to. I was sitting in the bathroom crying and just about got the riot act. Yes, I am stubborn and I come by it honestly, I learned it from both my parents and my grandparents. Anyway, my doctor asked me a few questions and then said she'd call back the next day to check on me. I was fine the next day, sore, but the pain wasn't nearly what it had been. No bleeding or anything like that, so I am okay. Well, it's two weeks from surgery and I still hurt but I'm weening myself off the pain pills- well okay it;s more like going cold turkey with the help of tylenol. But the point is, I'm getting it done.

Okay, the reason there has been some contention between Amanda and I lately because I don't complain that I hurt, is because she forgets that I am in pain. It is my fault. I don't talk about it, I don't fuss. When you grow up with a woman who suffers from chronic pain due to migraines, torn rotator cuffs, blown disks in her neck (seriously my mom's neck feels like gristle) and back and then seizures that came out of nowhere, who is also OCD and depressed as hell for all of it, anything you say hurts feels like your competing and I didn't want to do that. So, I learned to just take some meds, not fuss, and get on with it. Plus whining about hurting gets old to me. So I just don't. Amanda got on to me about it. She said she can't read my mind and that because I have been more or less moving around like nothing happened, it's hard for her to remember that I had surgery or that I am in pain still. One of my friends also kind of got onto me, in her nice polite way. She will ask me if I am okay, and I automatically reply that I am, partly because I don't want to complain and partly also because I don't like worrying people I care about. I'm weird.  

Emotionally and mentally I'm having some trouble. I'm probably not processing things as I should. I've been writing a lot and not really in my own reality per se. I'm not entirely sure I am ready to be fully present in my own reality. There are some things I'm not quite ready to address for myself and some things I am struggling with. Amanda is kind of falling apart because her job- while she loves the people- is sucking the life out of her and were starting to wonder if she doesn't have some form of narcolepsy. I can't tell it is just a stress issue because she seems to have had these issues since she was a kid. Either way, she needs a different job.  Then there is the shit I woke up to yesterday. 

My Mom called me yesterday and I was seconds from getting to the phone. When I called her back she was sobbing. With my Grandparents in such bad shape right now (both of them ended up in the hospital and are now in a rehab facility near home) I thought maybe something had happened to them. Also, my mom doesn't cry. She was abused. So when my mom is cry or in this case sobbing so bad my Dad takes the phone from her to talk to me, you know shit's bad. My mom asked me to call her identical twin, the monster bitch who I cut off for several reasons. My Dad said I should call and at least tell her that I love her (which is true, deep down I never stopped, she's my aunt- but that didn't mean I had to put up with her shit) because I might not get another chance, and not to do it for my aunt, to do it for my Mom. I was fucked then, because I would do anything for my Mom, my Dad too, and I would do anything to make my mom stop crying like that. I hate it when she cries like that, I used to listen to her cry up in her room when I was in high school and after before I moved out, because she was in so much pain all the time. I actually used to wish she could die just so she wouldn't have to feel the pain anymore. Which to me, was really fucked up, because she's my mom and even back when we butt heads all the time, she was still my best friend and I didn't want her to die. I needed her, still do. 

But yeah, I asked my Dad to text me my aunt's number and made the call. Again, I knew things are really bad because she didn't pull any of her usual emotionally draining martyr victim crap or yell or anything like that. She got a little biblical preachy for about five minutes, but otherwise it was a really good conversation. She's got a lot stuff wrong with her and apparently there's something going on with a tube that connects to her gallbladder and supposedly it is a risky surgery. Or at least it is risky for her with all of her health issues, one of them being an ITP blood issue- aka she's a bleeder. But she's in so much pain and depressed and my aunt didn't tell me, my parents did, but she's given up on living. She just doesn't want to do it anymore. And she's terrified that my cousin Shi-chan will kill herself because she's so utterly depressed. There's a lot more going on, drama from my other two cousins that's completely disgusting. I try not to hold myself above other people, I really don't, I don't think I am better than anyone else, I generally feel like I am less, but in the case of my other two cousins from aunt, at least I am not a lying pill junky who only likes her kid as a play thing or a raging violent alcoholic.  Seriously, I am glad to not live back home just so I am not constantly exposed to their bullshit.

Anyway, I guess when it rains it pours. But I am writing again and it's made me so happy. 

The week before surgery- stuff I want to talk about.

Art by Kir-tat on Deviantart.com

I did not do so well last week or the first couple of days this week. At first I was angry and furious, which was vented and displayed in some of my previous blog posts. Amanda wasn't handling it well either and on top of that she'd been pretty miserable at work. It's not her co-workers, it's the customers, and she's really beginning to feel burnt out. When you add that I wasn't on top of things here at home to that, there were a lot of tears with us both at a loss as to what to do. 

I felt like the the dryad in the picture above, I saw doom coming and was desperately trying to cling to my home, my stability to the very last. Then something happened. I went into what my therapist called survival mode. I couldn't handle my own reality anymore and started reading. I read some of Monster Hunter International (I still need to finish it) and then read a novel length fanfiction I fell in love with years ago. I even saved the damned thing so I could print it out, put it in a binder, and keep it just in case the author ever decides to remove it. Reading her fanfic of course got me to thinking about my own, so I read several of the stories I'd written 11 years ago. That led to me wanting to rewrite one. 

Somehow in the course of reading and beginning to rewrite the fanfiction, I became manic. I stopped sleeping properly, in fact I didn't sleep much at all. I wasn't eating very much either because I simply wasn't hungry. I ended up losing about 20 pounds. I'm sure I will gain a little of that back during recovery, but I'm hoping not too much. I also wrote 97 pages in I think 5 days- the days kind of ran together on me. 

Also, the cardiology appointment wasn't really necessary, they didn't see anything wrong. But better to be safe than sorry. 

Yesterday morning, after my shower, getting dressed, and packing my hospital bag, I was still writing. When I got the hospital I mentioned that I was a little sad that I couldn't write during the day, but it is a little hard to write when a robot is removing your internal lady bits. Several of my friends were there to see me off, which made me want to cry. I've felt so alone living so far from my family and because of my depression. To see them there was wonderful. 

Amanda got to go back with me for a little bit. I had to get prepped, do an antiseptic wash down and get into my hospital gown. The hospital Chaplin came in to talk to me. While I am no longer Christian, he didn't know that, I appreciated that. The staff were really great too. There is this type of blanket that on one side it looks like a pool float mat, one of those you air up, and the other side it more a papery cloth that has tiny holes scattered throughout. They hook a tube up to it and in pumps warm air. On top of that they lay a blanket to keep you warm. It was amazing! 

However, my fears and some panic was starting to come back, a little of my numbness had faded. My anesthesiologist gave me some Valium. I certainly liked that, I got a bit giggly. Not tool long after that, I was taken to surgery. 

I think had I not had the Valium, I might have had a panic attack. The ceiling had large, round, movable lights, there were various monitors, a whole line of surgical equipment against the wall to my left, and to my right, was the robot. There were four or five arms and I couldn't decide if I was fascinated with it or afraid. I didn't have too much time to think about it, they surgical staff was introducing themselves, helping me move to the surgery bed, and before I knew it, I was going to sleep.

When I awoke, or was in the process of waking up, my left side hurt and I wanted to pee so bad. They did a bladder check but said there was nothing in my bladder. They also told me that the surgery team fills you up with gasp and fills the bladder up as well to see things better. So what I was feeling was the gas and my bladder trying to go back to its normal size. Because I was in pain, they gave me some medication. But I  was also having some difficulty breathing while laying down and it was also happening every time I started to doze off. That was apparently a side effect of anesthesia and some pain medication.  I was given water and apple sauce and moved into a chair to sit up. 

From then on it was observation time and Amanda got to come back. I got a bit cranky. There was someone who wouldn't stop talking next to me. My oxygen sats kept dropping according to the damned monitor. So they stopped using the finger one and hooked thing to my ear. But they kept messing with it that I wanted to tell them to leave it the fuck alone or just take the damned thing off. I peed 4 times while there and was up using a walker on the last two. I got a bit annoyed that I had to wait to be unhooked from the heart monitor and the nurse had to come and carry my saline and also be there in case I fell. But I never said anything to anyone, they were only doing their job.

At 1:30, I was unhooked from everything, helped into a wheel chair and taken out to the car. Because Spokane is lousy about road care, every pot hole hurt, but Amanda drove as carefully as she could and tried to avoid them as much as possible. 

We stopped at Rite Aid to drop off my prescription, grab some Sprite, and then it was home. Fiona had worked her ass off to clean up my house. She's been staying with our friend Tsuki and coming over during the day to cook or just be emotional support. It has been nice and I don't know what I'm going to do to thank her. Or everyone else really. Another friend organized a meal train and got some of our friends to sign up and they will be taking turns bringing over dinners for us so we don't have to cook or worry about cleaning. 

Emotionally, I am glad this is over. I am happy and excited to see what my life is going to be like. I am a little sad though. Even though I didn't trust my body to ever have children, now there is officially no possible way for me to have any. I always wanted kids. But even though I am a little sad, I don't have any regrets. I have my cats, am an honorary aunt to my friend's kids, and Amanda and I will adopt if we ever get to a place where we feel we can. I spoke to Amanda about it and she said she was doing some reading and there are going to be some physiological effects going along with this, but we'll deal with them as they come along. 

Quick update with good news

I probably shouldn't be sitting at my desk, updating my blog, but the pain medication is helping me do that. Some of you who follow me on instagram or facebook, know that I had my hysterectomy this morning. I checked into the hospital as an out-patient at 5:30 this morning and was in surgery by 8 am. It was a two hour complete hysterectomy preformed by Dr. Mourton and her Robots- a little joke- it was robotic surgery.

Anyway, it went really well. Once I was awake, I was eating and drinking and fast to go to the bathroom. By 1:30 this afternoon, I was in the car on my way home and have been sitting on the sofa ever since. I would have gone to bed, but it is easier for me to get up and down off the sofa than to climb in and out of our high bed. Along with that, I needed to sit up after taking pain medication because once I start to doze off or fall asleep, my breathing isn't the best. I'm okay enough to be home with out oxygen, but it is still something to keep and eye on. I should be okay on that front by tomorrow morning since it has something to do with the anesthesia- or so I was told. 

So as of right now, I have been up and moving around enough to get myself to and from the bathroom and I can go without help. Moving up and down and pulling my underwear up hurts, but I can deal. I think I may have aggravated one of my incision spots at the hospital, it felt like I had a gas bubble trapped under my ribs and so I rubbed it trying to get it to start easing up. I did not know there was an incision there. But I'm sure that will pass as well. 

I'll have to write a post about the goings on this last week. I have a lot to tell, but need to get away from my desk and back on the sofa. 

So, I'm home, I made it, the offending internal equipment (or as Amanda called it  Zarcon- the villain in Voltron- has been defeated by Voltron) is out of me at last, and I am looking forward to getting some of my life back!

Furious, can't even, reading FMA djs and manga for sanity

My hope was to not post another blog entry until after my surgery, but alas, I need to vent again. A lot of my recent blog posts have been about my damned hysterectomy, how I need one, that I am finally getting one, and now apparently not getting one as quickly as we thought. *Screams internally and mentally breaks shit* 

I saw that I'd missed a call from the Cancer Care Northwest folks Thursday evening and listened to my voice mail. My surgeon's assistant didn't give me any details other than I needed to call her back, which alarmed me a little. So, I got logged into their website to check my test results- because they put those up for people review. What I found left me upset. In the blood work there's signs of potential early kidney failure. Well, as disturbing as that is, I was looking into it on multiple sites and making notes to go over with my primary doctor and thinking that surely the anemia has a little something to do with it, and that once the hysterectomy is done, I can address that problem properly. Then I checked my x-ray results. Either I have pneumonia and don't know it or there is a partial collapse at the bottom of my left lung. I am a shallow breather, always have been, was a smoker, and have recently- in the last couple of months- been sick, so that might play into that. But that wasn't the issue.

I got a hold of the Cancer Care Northwest folks yesterday to find out what the problem was. Apparently my EKG came back abnormal and they want to send me to a cardiologist for a stress test. That might push my surgery back which really sucks because I kept telling myself "Just hang in there until Wednesday and then you'll stop bleeding all over the place, just hang in there, almost done!"  Seriously, I just about had a knock down sobbing panic attack when I was told this news. 

Then around 5pm last night, just before offices close, I got a call from my primary care physcian's office. They wanted to know what the hell was going on and why they were getting a referral request from Cancer Care Northwest for me to get a stress test prior to surgery. My doctor was so confused and it's because my ONGYN's office, who not only has her information but has an office right across the hall, in the same building as my primary doctor's office, couldn't be bothered to send her any of my information like they were supposed to, no REQUIRED to do. So my doctor's assistant had to hurry over before the OBGYN's office closed, request all my records, and hurry back to talk with my doctor and then hurry up to schedule me in on Monday to see a different doctor so that they could get completely caught up and get the refferal sent out and hopefully get me in on tuesday- the day I am supposed to be doing a bowel cleanse and liquid diet- before my surgery and even then I might still not get scheduled for the cardiologist in time and because I am so stressed out by all of this crap, I may not get approved for surgery, and it might still get pushed off, which will only stress me out more. 

*RAGE FIT*

I can't do this shit. I just can't. People tell me it will be okay and just to hang in there, to calm down, to breathe and I just want to smack them and say "fuck you, you breathe, you calm down". Everyone always tells me to calm down because for some reason no one can handle me having emotions. No, I'm not going to be the calm one. I'm sick of this shit. I really am read to just tear my uterus, ovaries, and all of it out myself. I can order scalpels from amazon and we have prime so we get free 2 day shipping. I can't just do this and this back and forth, dangling hope of a real life in front of me is so fucking cruel I can't take it any more. 

So I have been reading Fullmetal Alchemist doujinshi's and looking at pictures of Roy Mustang (my favorite character) to try to distract myself and stay calm and sane. I am thinking about going to read some old fan fic that some online friends wrote. I kind of want to print it out for myself and put it in a binder. I even want to go read some of the fanfic that I wrote for the series. I am desperately clinging to everything that sparks my joy button because I'm going nuts. And I am so fucking sick of cry over this shit. 

My Dad thinks I should go shooting, that I should just go grab our rifle from Amanda's parents house and some ammo and head out to the rifle range and shoot targets for awhile. But, its cold, wet, and I'm not sure the road up there is clear much less safe right now and I am not going to pay ten bucks to shoot a gun indoors. (Yes, I have a rifle and know how to use it. Dad taught me when I was 9 and started me out on black powder rifles and pistols and truth be told I prefer them to more modern guns- although there is an anti tank gun that was used in a movie that I fell in love with... >.>) 

Finally good news

Can't remember who did this picture and deviant art dumped most of my saved favorites on their site... However, I feel this one is appropriate given that I feel a little lighter and more assured after my visit at Cancer Care Northwest today. Some of you will have read this message on facebook, but for those who don't follow me of facebook, here you go...

Finally some good news! My consultation with the Cancer Care Northwest doctor today went really well. After being poked and prodded, the doctor decided that a hysterectomy is the best option. My weight is a concern as far as risk for heart attack or stroke and anesthesia- I knew that- and she wanted to try to install an IUD until I get some weight off. I firmly told her that was not an option, to just do the surgery. So, she had me go to the in-house lab to check to see if I need a blood transfusion because I am anemic and pale (finally the vampire/ graveyard tan has been achieved! LOL)  Then she sent me for a chest x-ray and EKG to make sure there aren’t going to be any problems or delays in that area. My surgery is set for next Wednesday and she’s already got me scheduled for a post op appointment a month later. 

The surgery will be laparoscopic and she wants to make it the least invasive as possible. 

Now, because there are risks, and when the receptionist at the hospital asked me if I had a living will (I said no but I should probably think about one- mostly to protect Amanda and have her voice heard) she gave me something that will work in place of it that does not require a notary. So, I am going to read over that and fill it out tonight. 

I really like this doctor. I feel much better and safer in her hands than I did my OBGYN. In fact, Cathy and Francis- Amanda's parents- were so disgusted with how he handled our last communication, telling me I might have cancer over the phone, that they are glad I have someone else too. And after everything, I feel very much like he just washed his hands of me. I don't appreciate that and will be finding a new OBGYN after my surgery and when I have been given the okay to return to normal medical processes. If I need one that is. I did give my new doctor complete permission to take it all. I told her she could burn it. I have no love for any of it, as I have said before. 

Well, that's the update for now. I need to go pick Amanda up from work.