Frankenneck

This was the last time my neck would look like this.

So... it's been a week since my throat was slashed! No, really. It still is quite sore, and day before yesterday I gave it a go at solid foods! I think I'm paying for it today as my throat/neck is quite tender. I've always been rather "thin" but curvy. Now I'm just plain thin at 128 pounds! I knew I'd lose a little more, but good grief! I lost a lot after Patrick's infidelity and cowardness, but now I'm a little concerned. It's only good for me to be this small if I went back to doing runway. Otherwise, no... I don't like being the size of my cheerleaders! Now don't get me wrong, I would LOVE it if I was 20! I don't want to look like I'm trying to look 20!

So, last Thursday (5/13/10) night I was getting mentally prepared for surgery the following morning. My buddy came over and brought me my "last meal" (Mexican food), watched a little Survivor, then prepared for my "before surgery ritual." This consisted of me showering with some pre-surgery antibacterial soap they provide for you. Half the bottle the night before, the remaining half the morning of. It has something to do with preventing staph, blah blah blah. I don't nor want nor needed a staph infection, so I scrubbed as required. I dried off, locked down the apartment with the alarm, climbed into the bed with my book and proceeded to relax. I knew I had to be up at the crack of dawn to shower again and get an overnight bag together, so I was calling it an early night. I felt my eyes get heavier and heavier so I turned off my light and closed the book. I kept my TV on for a little noise in the background, but I rolled over on my stomach to enjoy the last of this sleeping position I was going to have for awhile. About 11:30 I hear a massive thud that echoed throughout my apartment. Not only did this wake me up, but it woke up Zach and he began barking incessantly! Immediately thinking it was coming from the girls upstairs I shot a text to inquire and make sure everything was in fact ok, and to let them know that if it was them... they had woke me up. I was already on edge about the surgery, now I'm not going to get any sleep. One of the girls’ texted back to say that she too was in bed and heard it. Ok... what the hell? So I lay there listening, hoping to hear something. And yes, I do and it sounds like it's right outside my window. So I get up, heart racing so loudly that I can hear it pounding in my ears. There is my drunken ass neighbor from the other side with a miner light on his head (multi-colors and all) milling around the air conditioning units that are right next to my bedroom window! He's staggering all over the place and as he proceeds to go back up the hill towards his apartment, I bang on my window to let him know to cool it the f*ck out! People are trying to sleep! He switches his little light from white, to blue, then to green and stands there. He then proceeds to turn around and head towards the front of my apartment. I'm not on the phone with the courtesy officer letting her know that some asshole is tugging at the units and making a whole hell of a lot of noise! She tells me that she's leaving the precinct and is almost home and will stop by. While talking to her, I open my blinds in the living room and there he is standing in front of my sliding glass door with his green light shining at me apologizing while slurring. Really? I said that's why you pay rent, call maintenance!!! Trying to calm back down, I climb back in bed... I surprisingly drift back to sleep. It's 1:15am and all hell is breaking loose except for now I hear this ruckus right at my window! I get back up, walk to my window to see this dumbass with his miners light on full bright white pulling fuses out of the damn fuse box while resting his drunken ass on my window!! I mean he's yanking them out. I'm bitching at him, he's telling me it's hot (in the drunken slur), I'm telling him that if he pulls my fuse out and I have no air that I will come out and beat the hell out of him with a stick! He's telling me it's hot, again I'm telling him to call maintenance, he tells me he did (I don't believe he did), and I'm telling him that if he doesn't stop, I will be calling the police on his drunk ass! Ok, so not only is he waking me up raising all kinds of hell outside my window, but now he's pulling fuses out and could potentially start a fire, disconnect something, or just plain old ruin something that he should be messing with in the first place! I mean really? I'm livid and now I'm that much closer to having to get up and get ready to head to the hospital! I just knew that I'd never get back to sleep... Surprisingly, I did.

Those three and a half hours of sleep came and went so quickly. Before I knew it, my mother was in my bedroom having let themselves in waking me up. "Ummm Mom, I don't have to be there until 6:30. Had a rough night/morning, please give me 10 to 15 more minutes. And why the hell are you here already??" She was more anxious than me. Way more anxious! So the butterflies that well up in my stomach to my throat begin to take over. She's talking to my Pop down the hall in the living room and it sounds like she's standing next to me. There was no way I'd get another 10 to 15. So I proceeded to get up and staggering to my bathroom to brush my teeth. My "wake up text" came through from my buddy at 5:20 but I was already up. I thanked him and proceeded to get in the shower for the second half of my bacterial scrub. My mother is pacing up and down the hall, occasionally coming into my bathroom and talking to my while in the shower. I'm stressed but stoic. Like a fighter before he enters the ring, focusing on the prize. Mom is nervously chattering away, but it’s like white noise as I process my thoughts. She insists I drive the seven miles down the road to St. Thomas. I was glad I did… it kept me occupied and required me to change my train of thought on the road in front of me. Traffic was minimal at that time of the morning, so it took less than 10 minutes to get there. I pull in and it’s 6:24am. I am nervous! I get parked, and the folks follow me though the parking garage. I go up to the second floor to Patient Registration. I gave them my name, the receptionist took out my file and told me to go through the “hospital” door and follow around to the EMA (early morning admission) room. We walked in and the lady asked my name and I looked over to a huge white board that had a list of the EMA’s surgeries. I was looking for my name… I was number two. She smiled at me and said, “Follow me over to 2.” There lying on the bed was my socks, and hospital gown. BUT this wasn’t your ‘typical” gown… this one had the hose hole to insert cool, warm, or hot air throughout/under your gown. They pulled the curtain while I changed and Mom & Pop stood patiently. I put all of my clothing into the provided bag and then placed it into my overnight bag. Mom and Pop pulled the curtains back and I placed myself on the bed. Let me just say, this bed was comfy! This was an airbed, and I was quite impressed! My pop sat next to it playing with all of the buttons on the side. A really cool feature was that it calibrates, and then it weighs you. Pop had my head going up and down, my feet were doing the same, I was laughing, Mom was getting pissed.

Mom attempting to smile some...

We were the only ones in there on the side of the room that I was on. So it was all good. We were trying to take the edge off, but Mom’s edge was intensifying. Pop weighed me, I was 132.1. I tried to eat fatty foods a few days prior to try to “bulk up” and prepare to lose some weight over the next week or so. We laughed, the nurse asked me a million questions, and then we waited. Early Morning Admissions does not mean early.

Socks to help me smile

Before I knew it, another nurse comes to pick me up to bring me to the prep area. Now it’s time to get the IV. Before I get into the wheelchair I kiss Mom and Pop and tell them that I’ll see them later. You never can know what could happen in surgery. Anything is possible, good or bad. So in case of the bad, I wrote a letter to the both of them (and a few others) with other important documents and sealed it up telling them on the outside of the envelope to only open should something go wrong. Again, things can happen at any moment, at anytime. Mom’s eyes well up and I try to not let her see mine. I tell them that I’d see them in a little bit! She wheels me down the hall and into a room that is buzzing with nurses, anesthesiologists, and others in their scrubs. They have me get on one of those old school uncomfortable hard beds and multiple people are coming to me all different but asking me the same questions. They’ve now hooked me up to that air blower thing, and I’m becoming more and more anxious until I finally lost it and broke down. One nurse hugged me and said that I will be perfectly ok. One of the anesthesiologists told me that she just spoke to my doctor and he told her I was extremely stressed and to give me something to calm my nerves.  She did just that. In a matter of seconds I was laughing.  Another nurse said to me, "I don't know how you managed to get him, but you have the best doctor there is to do this surgery."   They put in my IV, and now even more people were asking me those repetitive questions. Obviously they want to make sure that they’re doing what you’re on the schedule to do! I should’ve said I was having a nose job! They pumped me full of a little more of that good stuff and rolled me towards the OR. When I was wheeled in I joked to one of the nurses that were sitting down to not get too comfortable. I remembered I had everyone laughing by the time I switched onto the operating table. The anesthesiologist told me to relax as he put the mask over my face and asked me to breathe deeply. Before I was completely out, I leaned forward and told my audience to take good care of me and that I’d see them later! Everyone complied and everything went dark.

I remember faintly being in recovery and hearing the nurse say “she’s waking up”, but that’s all I remember. Apparently not too long after that I was being wheeled into my room. I remember Mom & Pop following me in. The nurse that was working those next few hours to check my vitals apparently didn’t work that floor. She hooked me up to the oxygen and it was full blast. I remember still being in my drunken stooper while trying to let her know that I had about 500psi pulsing up my nose! She giggled and said that she normally doesn’t work on that floor. Fanfrieakintastic! There was a knock at the door and someone brought in some flowers. They were from my sister and brother in law. So the nurse leaves and I feel myself coming in and out… Then what was probably 20 minutes later in comes Mario, Ashley, Tori, and Jamie. I vaguely remember them being there as I hadn’t been there too long myself. I remember the phone was ringing off the wall and Mario grabbed it a couple of times. I also remember there were storms. There was a whole lot going on, but I happy to be there.

Mom and Pop hung out a little longer then had to leave to take their dog out. I was pretty useless at that point anyway. I was barely awake and they just spent the past 40 minutes with some of my friends staring at me while I looked like a drunk. So I was fine with them doing what they needed to do. Before they left I remember asking them how bad my neck looked. They gave me my phone so I could take a picture and I was pleasantly pleased that my incision was approximately 3 to 3 ½ inches long.

Not too bad!

My doctor comes in and he’s more than pleased with the outcome, and especially happy with the incision area. He pulled a large mass out of that little incision. He said that it wasn’t necessary to cut completely across my neck. He said that skin stretches so easily, so he did what he came to do! He then proceeded to tell me that I did well and that I was laughing and being silly while wheeled away. Somehow this doesn’t surprise me, but I obviously don’t remember it. He then encourages me to order myself a cheeseburger from the menu. The thought of burger after having my throat opened up wasn’t really an option. Yes, it sounded AMAZING, but was I going to eat it? Hells no!!! But I was hungry!! So an hour or two passes, more phone calls come in, a lot was going on, then “room service” arrives. I am on a liquid diet. This is fine by me! I had beef broth, jello, Italian Ice, and different juices. I was thrilled as it was as though I had a steak!

A few more hours later another tray arrives but this time I have chicken broth. I’m sleeping off and on, talking here and there, texting, and receiving pain pills every four hours on the hour. About 8 or so my nurse brings me some ice cream, I was contempt. I slept for two to three hours and was awake for one. This was throughout the night. I grew more and more antsy wanting to be home and in my bed. The nurses were in and out every hour on the hour throughout the night to check my vitals. I sub-consciously lifted my arm for her to check my blood pressure while in and out of sleep. It’s now 6 o’clock and I’m starving. Room Service isn’t available until 6:30am. It was a LONG 30 minutes, and when it came time I had set my sights on oatmeal, grits, and yogurt. BUT someone needed to answer the phone! The phone lines were in and out the day before from the storm. By 8 o’clock I couldn’t get through and I was ready to gnaw my arm off! I called the nurse and she gladly came in and used a “backdoor” number to call the kitchen so I could place my order. In the meantime my doctor came in and decided that he would release me. Labs still had to be done and that wouldn’t be until Monday, so there was no sense in me staying there when most people recover better at home. He said I was free to leave once everything had been wrapped up. Yay, home. My breakfast arrived and I ate like I’d never eaten before. Afterwards more vitals were taken, and I just waited for the discharge process to begin. Mom & Pop arrived, as did more flowers. The nurse came in and pulled out the IV, and we proceeded to get everything together. My head was killing me, so the nurse gave me one more pain pill on the way out the door with a list of take home directions over the next two weeks, and what and whatnot to do. They wheeled me out, and I was on my way home.

We arrived to my doorstep and there laid flowers and a note from my neighbor. We weren’t 5 minutes in the door and another floral delivery arrived. Wow, I could’ve only imagined had I died! Ok, that was tasteless, but seriously. I’ve never received so many flowers before in my life. I absolutely loved it!  I undoubtly had more support than I possibly could've imagined.  That Sunday Ashley brought me homemade soup and more flowers, friends showed up to bring me coffee every morning, to walk Zach for me, to check in on me, to feed me, to bring me ice cream, popcicles... it was more than I could've expected.  It was appreciated more than they will ever know or I'll ever be able to show them or to let them know...

Days had passed, I spent the first four nights home on my sofa for fear that I may roll over and stretch my neck or do something wrong to it. I coughed a LOT, and of course with a few sneezes thrown in for good measure. I was sure I opened the hole in my neck. So I stayed put. Wednesday was the day I was directed to remove the steri-strips from my neck. Umm ok. Jennifer was coming over to see me so we decided that she would remove them for me. I had to shower, and they got wet. I’m impatient, so I thought I’d bite the bullet and get those things off. In the mirror dripping like a wet rat I tugged at the end of the strip. The corners were easy… but as I got closer to the incision it began to pull and I began to get queasy… and nauseous. I felt the bathroom get smaller and I couldn’t focus. I pulled and pulled quickly while dry heaving and spinning. I dropped and leaned against the door until I was able to gain my vision back. I got the damn things off. I almost cracked my head open in the process, but I did it! I told Jenn that I couldn’t wait, which shouldn’t have been a surprise. Behold… “Frankenneck.”

Before

Frankenneck

Lookout folks... I'm on my way back!!!!

Done… Done… and Done. Now the fun begins!

My best friend couldn’t have put it more plainly. I am done.



1. I was cheated on and dumped for a poor white trash 26 year old co-worker with nothing to offer other than a lot of, “omg!”, “like”, “lol!”, bad eyebrows, and bad dye job.


2. I miscarried by the guy who did all of that to me and left me high and dry while he and his BFF hung out with their “children.”


3. And I just had thyroid cancer cut out of my throat.


I’d say that 2010 has been rather unkind, and I’ve taken it like a champ for the most part. It damn near broke me, but I’m afraid to say that I’m coming back harder and stronger. I fear for those that are to blame. Between Karma and me, it’s only beginning. I guess you could say that I had a lot of cancer cut out of my life in the big picture!


Part 1 of “Done”. His BFF said that he never liked me from the beginning, that he hated me.  The he only liked me for Patrick's sake. I find that rather amusing. I would’ve never known otherwise. He praised me on how happy he was at how happy I was making Patrick. He loved eating every weekend with us that I cooked and bought food. What he didn’t love was that I saw completely through him and didn’t “accept” his bullshit. I’m sorry… he’s a funny dude, and the life of the party, and can have a really good time with… BUT he’s manipulative, back-stabbing, and two-faced. He’s a mean, vindictive, manipulative, cunning, deceitful person only out for his own good and doesn’t care who he steps on to get there, including his spineless BFF. His girlfriend has learned well from him but I have to remind myself that these people are incapable of thinking on their own. He dogs Patrick out when given the chance (of course behind his back), hell he’s dogged out the couple of friends that he has behind their backs. I listened to it for over a year the both of them talking about their two or three friends and spouses.  You would think someone who has so little friends (I’m not talking about the random bar people he knows and doesn’t spend time with, I’m talking about the three friends he has) that he wouldn’t dog them all out. He HATED the fact that we did have a healthy relationship (when we did), and he was in an insufferable marriage with a girlfriend who wanted his undivided attention (that he would bitch about too). He wanted someone to be just like him. He wanted to be Patrick’s puppet master. Since Patrick didn’t have a backbone, this was an easy task to manipulate. NOW he hates Patrick’s (ex) girlfriend, now he can’t stand the fact that Patrick was contempt and comfortable in his relationship while he struggled to juggle a poor marriage and a girlfriend on the side. Now don’t get me wrong, what you do on your own time and in your life is all on you. Do I agree with it morally? No. But then again, I’m not the one that has to live with that on my shoulders. I’ve never been a cheater; I’ve never done someone wrong that I’ve loved. So that wasn’t on me. But bottom line, he wanted his BFF back, and he wanted him back on solely his terms (without me). He sees himself as a god of some sort… I see him as a lost soul. I’m not self-righteous by any means. I don’t claim to be better than others. BUT one thing that I don’t do, and I’ve been known to do a lot, is to shit on the people I claim to care about or love the most when I have no one else! None of his buddies’ wives/girlfriends like him. They tolerate him because it’s who their significant others care about. The only people that do like him are his girlfriend, Patrick, and Patrick’s kiddo. At the end of the day… this girl is exactly what he wants for Patrick. Why? Because she’s incapable of thinking for herself, she has NO clue of what she’s gotten herself into because she’s too young to have lived life long enough to know when she’s being screwed. And by that I don’t mean on her back on the memory foam mattress and bed sheets I bought for Patrick. It’s easy to manipulate a 26 year old that knows nothing about life. To her, this almost 40 something’s look like the “cool older dudes” when in fact they’re having mid-life crisis’. To her she feels like a “big girl”, but the fact remains is that Patrick can’t take care of himself let alone her. She’s looking for husband material, and he is not that dude! They’re both cheaters. Patrick cheated on his ex-wife, he cheated on me, and she’s clearly a dumbass to think it won’t happen to her. It’s like Murphy’s Law… “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong…” Any little girl that thinks she “won” because he was with her while his “girlfriend” was miscarrying, and suffering over the break-up… she’s sadly mistaken. She only looks “cool” to his two friends! She too will become one of his statistics. And his BFF’s girlfriend… wow… she couldn’t believe what a “heartless bastard” Patrick was for treating me the way he did throughout the miscarriage all the while she was becoming BFF’s with the little trick that’s close to her age. Someone she can more or less “relate” to. She was quick to come to my defense while I was going through hell, but quick to make me out to be the bad person for getting pissed off for being cheated on. But she waw ready to run to my side if need be. What a fuckin’ fake flake. They both now have cheating middle-aged dudes and they think they’re living a fairytale. I mean, she’s a cheater too… so ultimately what do you expect. You hang around garbage long enough, you begin to stink! Unbelievable. I truly though Patrick was an exception to the rule… I thought he was a good dude. Hell, even his own family thought he was a good dude. But I guess when you strive to be someone you’re not, it all back fires. He’s paid out more money with this trick in a matter of months than he paid out in a year and a half with me! Shit, I was free! He’s actually paying for ass now! Wow! And let’s be honest here… she has to feel stupid picking up my leftovers. I mean she’s sleeping on my former wet spot; she’s now been adopted by his “friends” (remember, the ones that talk behind his back) like I was, she brings her dogs over like I brought mine, she’s drinking from the coffee pot I bought, laying on the bedding I bought, she’s basically doing everything he’s already done with me… Must feel pathetic to be that girl… or should I say runner up? Nahh that’s too generous. Not even remotely cute with those pencil eyebrows, bad dye job, and kangaroo pouch. Any kid that young should still have a flat stomach! I’m damn near 40 and look better now than I did at 26! But Patrick did say that being with poor white trash was keeping with his own kind…So, part one is done. Yes, I’m still extremely bitter, and yes I still have a lot to say as the chapter was never closed on my end. I suspect that it’s far from over as I’m just getting started. Karma and I have a little something worked out… so the fun is only beginning!


Part 2 of “Done”. The miscarriage. The wound hasn’t even remotely closed. The band-aid hangs from one end without the sticky stuff to keep it attached. This chapter has not closed yet. Yes, it’s “done”, but it’s not over. I know in his mind it’s easier for him to move on with the PWT, not seeing me, and his buddies encouraging bad behavior (I know that they’re not the only ones to blame, he’s a responsible party as well), but the fact remains is that it’s not closed. It won’t be until he looks me in the face after everything he’s done to me. I will learn to forgive, but I will never forget... and neither will he. Somewhere down the line I was made out to be the bad person in all of this. I was the bad person for being a good person to the one I love, for doing anything and everything for that person AND his friends, for being faithful, and supportive. Then I was especially the bad person for getting pregnant while he was cheating on me with some ugly 26 year old that looks like a dude, I was the bad person for miscarrying, and lastly I was the bad person for losing my shit over all of it. Wow. Now granted I’m not sad that his people no longer wanted to be friends with me, I mean they do what they do best… they move to each of his conquests. When this one is used up, they’ll delete/”unfriend” her too and move to the next one. It absolutely cracks me up at how juvenile they are. At the end of the day, I have enough shitty people in my life… they were completely by association that I don’t really need them as they did nothing for me. And I’m not a cheater, so I really didn’t “fit” into the club. There’s only so much, “punkin’”, “honey”, and “baby” I can take from some kid who’s younger than me. It’s cute, but it’s cute to a 40 year old dude having a mid life crisis… not me. Again, Karma, I, and CarMax have had a LONG conversation! Let’s just say, I have friends in high places…


Part 3 of “Done”. Thyroid cancer… done. What a roller coaster ride that was! Patrick’s fake ass friends were there for me back in November when I had the initial scare and was soooooooo supportive of me. Then I didn’t see his BFF and his girlfriend until January and they were looking at me like I was crazy... Probably because they were in on his cheating ways with that really ugly girl. That’s what cheaters do ya know, they cover for one another. Nonetheless, my surgery is over (blog and pics coming up next!) and I’m getting back my fiery personality/attitude and people… ya better look out! I needed to conquer this to remind me of the strength that I have, that was stripped from me, but now it’s back… and boy is it back! NOW is the time for me to speak up… NOW is the time where I really get to let everyone know where I stand… NOW is when I no longer lay down and get walked all over… NOW is the time when the people who underestimate me most should probably stop, shut the hell up, and listen. And if you don’t want to do that… you better believe you’re going hear it anyway. I laid down for MONTHS and had to succumb to being lied to, cheated on, suffering a miscarriage – ALONE, being sick and suffering… Well folks, not anymore. Look for a LOT of changes to happen in the next few weeks. I spent months losing things (a relationship, a baby, my dignity, my integrity, my confidence, and who I am), well now it’s someone else’s turn! A change is going to come whether you want it or not. My conquering thyroid cancer is only proof of what lies ahead!  Fear karma, it’s riding like the four horses of the apocalypse to a neighborhood near you!