Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Today, I would normally be inconsolable.
But I'm not.
Today is that day that I would normally feel like my world is coming to an end after yet another unsuccessful try.
But I'm not.
Somehow, finding out that there may be a problem has released me. Maybe not entirely, but it has enough to let me feel that I don't have to hate myself today. I don't have to hate the injustices of the world today
Maybe it's because I had my freakout two days ago when I got the news. I got it all out of my system, and I'm not a ball of stress and nerves anymore.
This is still different, though.
This feels as if I'm not longer tied down by the must-make-baby-now instinct. I don't hate anything associated with this process right now. I am anxious to get it moving and get the answers that I want.
But then I'm not. There are moments when I am truly fine with just giving up and having dogs who let me sleep in on the weekends.
I just hope this lasts. I hope this feeling of my lungs being filled with fresh air stays. I don't want to go back to feeling like my life is ending with each passing day. I want to feel like this is part of my life and not my entire life like I do right now. I want to look forward to things again. I want to live in this moment for as long as possible. I just don't want to feel like that anymore. Ever.
I just want to feel like this. Breathing. Understanding. Doing more than just surviving.
As always, it's hip to be square (and chilled the eff out!), kids.
Monday, February 24, 2014
I think I just found my courage.
I think I just got over that terribly overwhelming feeling.
I think I just found my spirit again. It's a little beat up, but it's still good.
I'm taking back control. I will not be controlled. I will not lose myself in this.
Oh, there I am!
Let's do this, bitches.
It's hip to be square (and awesome!), kids.
It's hip to be square (and awesome!), kids.
Friday, February 21, 2014
Sometimes I get ahead of myself.
Sometimes I'm an idiot.
Sometimes I'm more than an idiot. Sometimes I'm a downright fucking moron.
I went to Tarjay the other day mostly because it's my happy place, but also because I needed things for the house. I spent a long time shopping, and I was late on my way to get home. Husband was waiting for me so we could go do something. I don't remember what.
Anyway, I'm neurotic about my purse when I'm in supermarkets and parking lots. I took my purse out of the cart and set it in my trunk while I was unloading groceries. In a choreographed dance that I can barely remember, somehow my body got ahead of my brain, and I instinctively closed the trunk before grabbing my purse.
Cue the instant flood of terror and the OH SHIT.
I knew it soon as the trunk closed that I had done things out of order. Thank BOB I still had my phone in my pocket. My trunk was closed with my purse in it and my car was locked. Well, fuck.
My terror quickly turn to embarrassment which quickly turned to OH-MY-GOD-I-HAVE-TO-TELL-MY-HUSBAND-THAT-I-LOCKED-MY-KEYS-IN-MY-CAR. Images of how I would never live that down across across my head, and I considered just moving into Target instead of calling him. I could get a job, work there, and never have to go home again. Instead, I womaned up and called him. "I'm an idiot," I said. I told him I happened.
Because he's away nicer person than I am, he didn't make fun of me. He didn't give me crap. He didn't even complain. He just got my extra key, got in the car and came to get me. There is no Target near our house, and it was a half an hour drive to get to me. This is not a short distance. So I wandered around Target with my tail between my legs wondering when, just when, I would get my head out of the clouds, come back down to Earth and pay attention to what the fuck I'm doing.
Probably never, but it's a good idea.
As always, it's hip to be square (and a total airhead), kids.
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
I give you my permission to annoy the shit out of your doctors.
Now, my permission doesn't mean shit, but it's still there if you want it.
Ask questions. Ask every question you can think of. Ask stupid question. If a doctor says something that doesn't sit right with you, ask more questions. If those don't help, get another opinion. If you don't like the service you're receiving, try someone new. Doctors work differently than other human beings. Sometimes, it's less about saving lives and more about saving their own ass. Defensive medicine causes huge problems, but so do people who sue for no reason. I can see both sides.
We've started asking questions and getting second opinions for Doc. He's miserable. He wants more out of life. He is willing to take a risk having this surgery when it isn't a good idea. He doesn't want to have trouble walking for another minute, much less another yet.
I called a good friend who is a neurosurgical nurse practitioner PhD candidate. She has worked on many, many shunt procedures, and she knows the deal. She understands how the anticoagulants work, and she told me that there is another way. Then I got on the Internet and did some research. I found articles from the Cleveland Clinic and Duke medical school that gave me the information that I need. The articles gave me the numbers that doctors insisted didn't exist. They talked about mortality rate and time off of the medication. They helped me understand how much of a risk this is.
These are answers that no one else wanted to give me except to say, "It's a bad idea."
Yeah, well, so is being miserable. So fucking help us out here.
We're calculating risk now so we can choose what to do next. And then we go from there.
Because I'm fucking obnoxious and decided that their no wasn't good enough.
Ask questions. No one is going to advocate for you but you.
As always, it's hip to be square (and obnoxious!), kids.
Monday, February 17, 2014
I went to the doctor to find out that I was fine and had nothing to worry about. I went so she would tell me that my problem is stress and I need to reduce it. I agreed to the tests because I thought they would further the cause that, even though occasionally sluggish, I am healthy as a horse.
I didn't go so she could tell me that I will have trouble getting pregnant.
I didn't go to have the news broken to me over the phone on Valentine's Day without any indication of how long this next part takes.
I am at sea.
I am exhausted.
I am without hope.
I am no longer optimistic.
I am barely getting out of bed.
I will get passed this eventually-- probably even sooner than I think.
In the meantime, here we are.
I'm sorry for the tone of this writing space in the coming months. I just don't have the funny in me right now.
Thursday, February 13, 2014
Things have been rough lately. I'm really struggling with how many different things are out of my control within my world right now. I can't make anything go the way I want it, and that been piling on top of me. I'm exhausted and overwhelmed.
The Universe likes to show itself in strange ways to remind me that not everything has to be in my control.
There is a guy [read: total jerk] who picks up the specimens daily for the lab that is on the bottom floor of our office building. Every day, he parks in a place where he is not supposed to park. Every day, he blocks cars underneath an overhang that people use to load children and disabled people in to their cars. He has been asked not to multiple times. Multiple times he has ignored us.
Yesterday, it was pouring down rain and the sky was black as night in the middle of the afternoon. Lots of cars were using the overhang to get their loved ones in and out of the building. This guy arrives and BACKED HIS CAR IN. He made it so that no one else can get in and a few people cannot get out. Mind you, this car is marked with the company name and phone number. He was told to move, and his answer was "I don't have time for you. I do what I want."
He brilliantly said this in front of a handful of witnesses.
I was incensed. The idea of someone who finds his job so important that he can inconvenience people IN A STORM had me fuming. I only have one rule for behavior: Don't be a douchebag.
It was after business hours when all of this happened, and I wouldn't be able to get to any of his supervisors even if I tried, so I put it on the back burner and decided to wait until this morning to call. This morning was really busy, and by the time I realized it, it was two hours in to the day. I heard the front door of the office open, and went to greet whoever was there. Standing in my window were two of the area managers for the lab company who were just making a sales call. They had no idea what had happened the day before.
They were not happy when they found out. They gave us the name of who to talk to in the future, and assured us that it would be "handled".
And it took me no work to get it done.
So thanks, Universe, for reminding me that I don't have to do all of the work myself as long as I keep my nose clean and fight for what's right. You do a pretty good job of making sure I get a break when I need it.
As always, it's hip to be square, kids.
Posted by Maternal Damnation at 11:11 AM
Monday, February 10, 2014
Medicine doesn't always make things better. In fact, sometimes it makes things worse. I don't just mean the pills that you take, I mean the medical interventions, surgical or otherwise, that are supposed to help.. It's happened twice in the last couple months. I get frustrated with medicine because I work in it, and I would never want to make something worse for someone, but it seems like it's just not avoidable sometimes.
Doc was supposed to have the shunt put in his brain to help him walk. It was supposed to be life-changing. It may be life-changing, but it won't be for a while. At the end of November, Doc was having chest pains, and failed to tell us until many days later. His doctor sent him to the emergency room where they admitted him and did a whole bunch of procedures that were supposed to help with the chest pain. The chest pain was never that bad according to Doc. I don't know if I believe that, but that's what he says. The procedures they did are not designed to lengthen lifespan, but just to relieve pain. He wanted to know why he should have a procedure that wouldn't lengthen his lifespan for pain that was not severe, but we all felt like it was a good idea because when he does have pain, he doesn't tell us. We went along with it even though he wasn't totally on board. He's a doctor, and doctors know that you don't have surgery just for fun. It's has to be something you need, where the risk is less substantial then the quality-of-life improvement would be. We did it anyway.
In the process of prepping him for the shunt, the stents that had just been put in had been completely overlooked. Shortly before he was supposed to have the procedure to put the shunt in, these brainiacs realized their mistake, and now this non-life-saving procedure that they did is inhibiting him from what could be a life-saving procedure. At least a quality-of-life saving procedure. This is frustrating. I was angry. I yelled. I yelled a lot. I asked why a lot. I'm past that point, but it doesn't make it any less frustrating.
Medicine is supposed to fix things. I work in medicine, and I've seen it do lots and lots of good for people. Today, I don't have a lot of faith because I really feel like everyone who should know better is just screwing up all the things. I feel like we've been let down on so many different occasions by things that were supposed to be minor and not life-changing. It's frustrating.
It's so frustrating.
As always, it's hip to be square, (and frustrated!), kids.
Posted by Maternal Damnation at 8:02 AM
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Addiction is not a character flaw or a lack of moral compass. It's a disease that is inherited and cannot be cured. Getting clean and sober isn't a matter of "growing up", it's a daily struggle that requires support, tough love, treatment programs and complete surrender. If you don't understand why someone is so destructive, it's because you can't understand. If you know someone who was able to get clean, be proud of them every day. Sobriety is a daily struggle in a fight that so many people lose.
To be a little more blunt: If you don't know anything about addiction, keep your mouth shut. You're hurting people by running your mouth about something that you cannot even comprehend.
Posted by Maternal Damnation at 1:38 PM
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