About Me

My photo
Just a simple person with complex ramblings! :)

Friday, August 27, 2010

When you creep...

...you WILL get your feelings hurt.  Let's be clear, Hobbit.

Friday, May 21, 2010

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!!!!


Tuesday, May 18, 2010

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!

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Cancer Schmancer!

Cancer” is a very scary word and it has different meanings for different people depending on their knowledge and life experience. I had learned that my type of thyroid cancer had an excellent prognosis and that the treatment - even the surgery itself - is really not as bad as it could be. One article had even said that "...if you have to have cancer this is the kind to have." OK, so I’m lucky after all. And there is still a chance, albeit a small one, that it wouldn't be cancer. I avoided telling those close to me the "C" word for fear that they'll feel "pity" which is something I don't want!

Back in November of ‘09 I had horrible pain in my neck, ear, and throat (I went to Lifesigns for a full physical and they caught it!). My boyfriend was unfazed that I was freaking out. His friends, (who now loathe me for no other reason than to "take sides") were offering me support as I waited for the biopsy results to come back regarding my thyroid. A week after the biopsy the doctor's assistant called to tell me that my blood work had come back normal. My thyroid levels were right in the middle of normal ranges, not even on the border. The thyroid itself was a little large (a cyst) and that we would monitor it over the next few months. I was confused because, by this time, I was experiencing unusual fatigue and headaches and just general malaise - just didn't feel like me. But I knew it wasn't cancer so I was just really baffled now about what was causing this. Knowing at this point that I couldn't really confide in my boyfriend regarding my worries, feelings because he was inept to deal with his own much less someone else’s, I just put it in the back of my mind, locked it away, and waited until they contacted me again for a follow up. By now it's January, things have worsen with my boyfriend and his "mental mid-life crisis breakdown" and it was now putting excessive strain on me. I did right by him and everything in our relationship... but it wasn't enough to help get him right in the head. February has approached and I found out I was pregnant. NOT GOOD TIMING. The boyfriend has now been seeing some "UGLY trashbag prostitution whore" from his work, and then I miscarry. Things were going south, and fast. Not only am I dealing with the break-up (because let's be honest here, it was just that because he's now seeing some 26 year old child from his work who's had her period a little over ten years longer than his daughter!), a miscarriage that I suffered/went through alone, and I am BEAT! I mean mentally, physically, and emotionally wiped. I'm really unsure of where the exhaustion stems from, but it's there and I'm on the verge of what I feel as to be dying! In the midst of this mess, I received a letter from the surgical clinic to come back for a follow up for an ultrasound and biopsy. Well HELL NO! I was already in Hell; I wasn't trying to deal with that mess on top of everything else. Well to my own detriment, I should've gone...

By the time I had the miscarriage, I noticed the “lump” in my throat had reappeared so to speak, or felt larger. It seemed like not too long after November, the pain and swelling in my neck went away or dissipated so I just assumed that the cyst was gone. Well it was back. I noticed the pain increasing as I spent weeks bleeding. Weird, I know. Then the pain in my neck/throat went away once the bleeding stopped. Then in the last few weeks the pain came back, but with a vengeance. Not only was my neck/throat killing me, but my arm, shoulder, and my hand felt like someone was straddling my back. My fingers began going numb and tingling… I just knew that I was going to have a heart attack. The pain was enough for me to call back my general surgeon and schedule an appointment. Of course they had to let me know I missed my last appointment… “yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, but I’m scheduling now”, I said. It was going to be a week later until I could get in for an ultrasound, biopsy, and to see the doc. I kicked my heels up with my friends but all the while was feeling beyond the “burning the candle at both ends” feelings. I was feeling absolutely terrible. Like I couldn’t function… Like I had taken cold meds all day long, drank, took some more, and throw in some pain pills that kind of run down. Even after “waking up” from my 5 shot Americano, I still felt exhausted. What the hell? Something is not right…

My OB/GYN made a small passing comment after the miscarriage to me about having issues with my thyroid can lead to miscarriages when I told her about the past November. I didn’t think much else about it until I began getting paranoid about my thyroid again, that was two weeks ago. I kept silent because I’ve had so much shit happen to me in the past three months, I did not want any friggin’ pity party bullshit. I did not want people making a big deal, and I certainly didn’t want those small minded people to have anymore ammunition against me thinking that I was seeking attention. That’s not me, that’s not who I am. I’ve kept a lot of my shit away from people specifically for that reason. But I realized those who can’t stop talking about me are the attention seekers themselves! Nevertheless my appointment was yesterday (4/28/10). I took the entire day off because I wasn’t sure how long I was going to be there. I went in and sat down at the Imaging Registration Desk on the second floor of St. Thomas Hospital and notice that the lady helping me has a 3 inch scar across her neck. (I’ve begun noticing a lot of scars across ones neck when out. Kinda like the new car that you just bought, we now you see them everywhere, whereas before you never noticed them?) We began talking about my hair, blah, blah, blah and then I proceeded to discuss why I was there getting the ultrasound. She proceeds to tell me that she had part of her thyroid removed. It wasn’t cancerous, but it had a lesion so they decided to get rid of part of it. She said that she felt better, had her energy back, and was glad it happened. She wasn’t the first person I’ve known or heard about that has had thyroid surgery. One of my co-workers has had it, her daughter had it, and my doctor had his completely removed. This seems to be more common than not. So after we wrapped everything up I headed to the imaging waiting area for them to call my name. “Amelia?!” Really? After all these years’ people still refuse to look at how my name is spelled. Usually the lazy ones just omit the “i” and call me “Alma.” It still gets me… I follow the tech back and climb up on the table. We weren’t even a minute in and she’s clicking away. I’ve had my share of ultrasounds and I know when they’re clicking that much, those are necessary pictures to take. She took that wand off my throat for less than 10 seconds only to type some things onto the keyboard with both hands. I’m not stupid. She asked if I was seeing the doctor, and I told her I was headed up after she was through. She told me to wait 5 minutes and she would send a disk up to the front desk to take with me to the 5th floor. They called my name, got my disk, and headed upstairs!

I walked into the office and hand the chick at the desk my disk and she said I will be called back shortly. Shortly was short. I went into the room and immediately began to feel strange about what he was going to say. He walked in, looked at me and asked me how I was feeling. I told him that I was feeling lethargic, my neck/throat was hurting, I sound like a man with a raspy tone, my shoulder and arm was killing me, and my finger tips would occasionally tingle. He turned around and said, “That’s exactly the same symptoms I had.” I just said, tell me what I need to know without breaking down and let’s get this over with. He then said, “we need to get it out… it’s grown significantly in size, it’s resting on your vocal box and has attached to some nerve endings. In addition there is a spot on the center of your thyroid, and a small area on the right side. We need to cut the left side out immediately. We will get your regulated on a replacement hormone, and we will need to get you on a calcium supplement consisting of 8 pills per day. But we will figure all of that out when that time comes. Now I’m going to get my secretary Amber to get you scheduled for surgery.” There were other things he said, larynx, trachea, etc., but I heard those key words that I was looking for without him saying that one word that I didn’t want to hear. Well, he did what I asked and with every word he told me what I didn’t want to hear in one word. Cancer. He walked out and a nurse came to get me to take me to his scheduler. I told her that it would have to be after Steeplechase because I already had the dress, hat, shoes, and ticket… so anytime after that would be great. May 14th.

As I walked to the truck I was nervous, but wasn’t upset. I was nervous about having to tell my mother because I didn’t tell her I was going back. I didn’t want to because I didn’t suspect anything wrong, especially after being told in November that we’d just monitor it. I sent a mass text to those that care/knew, and then called Mom. Surprisingly she wasn’t her normal self. She was calm, cool, and collected. We talked for a few minutes then hung up. She called me back 10 minutes later and said that she was coming to pick me up to take me to lunch. She did, and we had amazing Chinese at this place down Highway 96. We laughed about the past few days of fun that I’d had with Denise and our antics, and we talked about how good the food was. The only thing we did talk about from when I called her was if she or Pop could take me to the hospital that morning at 6:30 and take care of Zach throughout that day and overnight (yes, it’s an overnight stay… maybe two days).

So now I wait… I enjoy myself and blow it out over the next two weeks, and know that after it’s all said and done, I will be alright. To the dozens of you that’s been with me through ALL of this bullshit with the ex and up until now, I will never be able to thank you enough! I will keep you updated as “D Day” draws near!  I'm gonna make cancer my BITCH!!!

My fortune from yesterday's lunch with my mom says it all!

Sunday, April 18, 2010

It Doesn't Seem to Stop For a Moment

I walk past the doorway for almost two months having not gone in. I've avoided that room every single day since February 15th. I had maintenance come fix the ceiling from a leak, but never entered once they were done. Today I entered it and didn't come out for over an hour. It was the hall/guest bathroom. There were still trails and droplets of blood on the floor that had been covered up by a bath mat. I treated that room as though it was an extension of the hallway wall, that there was no door that it didn't exist anymore. I needed to clean... I needed to clean that bathroom from the "construction" that had taken place, and the aftermath of a loss. I’ve always pride myself as being a strong woman, but for months now I’m weak. Today was an especially weak moment. Today was brutal. Today I lay on the droplet ridden floor and cried and I pain-stakingly rubbed and rubbed those dark rust colored stains off the floor. I didn’t want to for whatever reason, but I had to. I wanted to move from here, and never have to go in that room again. That room has been off limits to anyone besides maintenance. I tell people to use my bathroom in my bedroom that the hall bath doesn’t work. Over time I forgot about that room. The door stayed shut, and I looked at it as though it was merely the wall. Nothing but plaster and paint. Nothing more, nothing less. But today it was so much more. Today it was a flood of emotions, memories, and pain…

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Separate Ways

Come rolling into town unaware
Of the power that you have over me
And what am I to do
With hello how are you
Nothing’s ever said that should be

And I don’t care about you
If you don’t care about me
We can go our separate ways
If you want to
The ties of love are strong
But they can be undone
And we’ll go our separate ways
If you want to

I’m turning into me, not you
I can change my mind not my blood
And not all who love are blind
Some of us are just too kind
We forgive too much
And never speak our minds

And I don’t care about you
If you don’t care about me
We can go our separate ways
If you want to
The ties of love are strong
But they can be undone
And we’ll go our separate ways
If you want to

I’m giving up on you
And I’ll turn my heart to something new
And we’ll go our separate ways
If you want to

I stood out in the rain
Holding my breath
Waiting for you
You never came
You broke my heart
You broke my heart
I know who’s to blame
You’re to blame

And I don’t care about you
If you don’t care about me
We can go our separate ways
If you want to
The ties of love are strong
But they can be undone
And we’ll go our separate ways
If you want to

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

So sick of people telling me to get over it.

Why don't people understand that I just have a problem acting like my life is not affected and that some people heal at their own rate and time? It doesn't matter how long or how short you lasted, the thing is you were together and there were memories and that makes it hard... It's usually the small ones that pain the most... Small but the impact is huge, or the ones you never really thought of and then BANG!!! It all comes flooding back... How bout all the hopes for the future you held, its hard letting go of all that... It's not impossible, it’s just hard. When a person that you have loved and shared your most deepest thoughts, dreams, goals, friends ambitions and more leaves you, your life takes a crushing blow. I’m sure it can be very difficult for some and devastating for others like myself. But let me reiterate, not only did he leave me, but I had a miscarriage about a week apart, WHILE he was seeing someone else!!! It's been two months since the miscarriage, two months and a week since the split, and people keep telling me to just "get over it." Really? Just like that? You don't tell someone who's just gone into remission with cancer to, "just get over it." Or do you? Well "getting over it" is easier said than done my friend(s). It is the engraving that makes it so hard to get over someone. Especially if it was unconditional love. I have loved someone so much that it becomes impossible to forget him and move on. I have tried, consciously and unconsciously but all in vain. And sometimes I think, it doesn’t deserve to be forgotten... something’s are better when you keep them with you and you are better off with it too. The hardest part is that I respect myself unlike the rest of the party that's involved in "our" relationship. Somewhere along the line "our" relationship became distorted and it became "their" relationship.


So yes I have a problem "getting over it" call it pain, call it me dwelling over something I can't change, call it what you want I just can't get past it right now so why do they try to force me? Am I doing something wrong? Is two months too long to grieve? I don't dwell on it daily but certain things make me sad it may be for a moment it may be a day or two but not like I lay in bed and feel sorry for myself I get up and go go go with my life. Why can I not have those days, moments, or minutes to be sad? Please understand that I just won't "get over it" as you all expect me to do after two major losses in my life that actually meant something to me. Yes, people break up everyday. But people need to understand that I took my relationship and losses a bit more seriously than some do or ever get the pleasure of. So please, please stop asking, suggesting, assuming, or implying me to "just get over it."

Friday, April 9, 2010

I tell everyone I'm fine..but I'm not.

Maybe it's just how I deal. I tell everyone I'm fine, I'm over it, etc. but unexpected tears will come out of nowhere and I know deep inside I'm just not over it yet. Most think I should be “over it” (after almost two months), some even say, “Some people can’t handle life.” Maybe I can’t, maybe my wounds take a little longer than the “average” person to heal. Maybe my heart and mind were more involved in my relationship than most people are or care to be. I feel like a failure cause I couldn't carry a baby, that I couldn't keep a good relationship in tact, that I lost one of the few men that I actually wanted to spend the rest of my life with. They told me when I first started here, "don't drink the water or you'll get pregnant!" A friend/co-worker just found out she was pregnant. I've been consciously avoiding her. I haven't been ready to congratulate her. I was confronted by her having to pass her in the quad today. I am honest to God happy for her and her husband; they’re what you call good people, genuine people. I just wasn't ready to see it, if that makes sense. I am so close to the people that I work with that this is the first pregnancy at work in awhile. Upon approaching her we made small talk. I didn't realize how it bothered me. My co-worker and I turned to walk away, and out of my peripheral vision I could see my co-worker looking at me while tears welled up in my eyes. She said nothing, but she knows me so well that I know she knew what I was feeling. It's been different being around my God babies, they’re like the children I never had and it’s comforting rather than being uncomfortable. This is potentionally something that I could have gone through. I know, I didn't intend on keeping it. But things didn't happen on my terms and I was left picking up the pieces alone. I feel like I did something wrong to deserve this bad omen. When does the emotional recovery begin? I feel like this past week has been exceptionally hard. Why? I don’t know. I had to resort to a website to help me find the answer, but then again it’s selective to each individual. I went to: http://www.pregnancyloss.info/recovery.htm  

A natural miscarriage can take considerably longer. You may have to wait days or even a couple of weeks before the bleeding and cramping begin. (Don't go more than two weeks without talking to your doctor about possibly getting a D&C. Studies show the longer you carry a lost pregnancy, the more likely you are to get seriously depressed, and the more likely you may have physical complications.) The actual miscarriage may only take a few days, or may drag out over several weeks.

The emotional recovery is another story altogether. One thing I will point out immediately is that your level of sadness is not at all tied to how far along you were. Everyone will be surprised by their emotions. Some will be near absolute despair and wish to join their baby. Some will be unpleasantly numb and feel nothing at all. Most will swing somewhere in the middle, seemingly okay one minute, then sobbing as if it were only yesterday. All the stages of grief will almost always be visited. Shock, numbness, denial, anger, guilt, depression, and finally resolution are all emotions you will experience. They do not come in order; some stages may go on for many weeks and others only a few hours. No two people grieve the same, as you will quickly see when your partner does not react the same way as you do. Don't expect that you will "get over it" in a few weeks or even months. Don't assume that getting pregnant again will turn everything around. Don't give yourself a timetable. Just let the emotions come and go and try to keep your life going.

So, you ask, when WILL I feel better? In some ways, you never will. The complete innocence and pure joy of pregnancy will not come back. But you will feel better than you do right now. Your life will go on, you will try again, and you will survive. There is much more to happen in your life. You have to keep going to see what it is. Only when you look back on where you were will you see that you do indeed feel a little bit better. For more information on emotional recovery, see "How to Cope."

I guess for the moment I’ll have to live with, “Time heals all wounds…

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Where Did My Dreams Go?

As I've been working along today in a repetitive manner for this particular time of the year, I stopped for a moment to think. I think too much these days to my own detriment. But I was thinking about “him”, and it leads me to think further about other things, again over thinking things. Then I realized that I’ve not had a dream in a couple of months now. I use to dream so vividly, remembering throughout my day what I dreamt the night before… and often. I just realized that I lie down each night, am empty, and then wake. There’s a void. No colors, no déjà-vu dreams that I’ve dreamt many times before, no colors, nothing… there’s nothing there. I remember I couldn’t wait to sleep because I knew that I’d go off on some crazy trip in my subconscious that would awaken me, peek my curiosity when I awoke. Now there’s just… nothingness.

Breakdown

Breakdown - Seether
The sun is gone and the flowers rot
Words are spaces between us
And I should've been drown in the rivers I've found of token lost
And I should've been down when you made me insecure


So break me down if it makes you feel right
And hate me now if it keeps you alright
You can break me down if it takes all your might
'cause I'm so much more than meets the eye


And I'm the one you can never trust
'cause wounds are ways to reveal us
And yeah I could have tried and devoted my life to both of us
But what a waste of my time when the world we have is yours


So break me down if it makes you feel right
And hate me now if it keeps you alright
You can break me down if it takes all your might
'cause I'm so much more than all your lies


Hate me, break me down
So break me down
So break me down
So break me down if it makes you feel right
And hate me now if it keeps you alright
You can break me down if it takes all your might
'cause I'm so much more than meets the eye

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Free

Alana Davis
I remember the long warm December we shared
I can still taste the air
You were open and I was hoping you cared
Hoping that you would be there for me
That's the way it was meant to


But I guess that your heart was free
Free to take the best part of me
And leave a hole where my heart should be
Where it used to be


Days are lonely and nights are only a veil
And the air is so stale
I'm still open but I guess you were hoping we'd fail
So you could sail away from me
And return to your open sea where I guess that you need to be
Where you can wander endlessly


Still you know that your heart was free
And you took the best part of me
And left a hole where my heart should be
Where you know it should be


You're for me, I'd have sworn that it was my destiny, oh yeah
But I know you were always free, free to be the best part of me
I'd have loved you endlessly with my heart and soul eternally, eternally
A love the way a love should be-ain't that the way a love should be?
You are free, free to give back the heart of me and replace all this misery


Since you took the best part of me
And left a hole where my heart should be
Where my heart should be

Why People Lie...

Now don't get me wrong, I've lied, told white lies... I mean who hasn't. BUT I've reached an age in my life that I no longer feel good about lying at people’s expense. I've been on the other end far too many times, and it hurts like hell! I am at a point in my life that I wouldn't want anyone to endure the pain I've endured over the last few months with lying. Now, I have become more deceptive rather than lying. This can be a gray area. Some call it misleading, hoodwinked, duped, fooled, others call it deluding, I call it deceptive. Unfortunately I can be good at it when cornered. Rather than feel the filth of lying, I choose to be deceptive. Some seem to think there isn't a difference between lying/deceiving, that it's a flawed doctrine. BUT I am entitled to my own opinion and how I see things! Now you can accidently deceive someone, but you can't accidently lie to someone. If you're lying to someone, you have to know you're doing it. I may not be lying, but I may deceive you. Now again, this is only when cornered. I don't make it my life’s work to lie and cheat my way into friendships, bars, bad situations like a handful of people I know. I mean, it HAS to become tiring living a constant lie with no friends and yet not really gaining any because a majority of the people sees right through you. Well, those with any true dignity. Have you ever had a "friend" that feels inferior to another person, is jealous of something their friend has but they don't, they might make up stories or situations so that they can get more attention? Unfortunately I know a person like this, I know many like this and it makes me feel dirty. It's truly sad. What's even sadder is that this person encourages it upon others... to lie that is. A much more troubling group is those who lie a lot — and knowingly — for personal gain. This fully applies to those people. Gahhh to shed a light on all of the lies would cause a complete shitstorm! BUT, I know with time it will all unravel itself. It doesn't need my help...


Nevertheless if you're curious about someone in your life lying to you. Take a gander at these things that could possibly expose this ball-less person:


1. Lack of eye contact or having eye contact, and consistently looking away is one way to determine if someone is being dishonest. However, it is important to understand that most people, especially men, know that this is an indication of lying, and they will work very hard to look at you directly even if they are being dishonest.


2. Researchers have indicated that moving the body while speaking in a suspicious manner many indicate that someone is not telling the truth. Examples of body language that may indicate this include moving the feet or legs, changes in skin color, acting in a nervous manner, and similar behaviors.


3. If you find that your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/friend seems a bit on the defensive side, it may indicate that he is being dishonest. In some instances in which this occurs, the individual will go to extremes to turn the tables on you and accuse you of being the one that is dishonest. This may be a sign that your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/friend is lying.


4. A strong indication that the truth is not being told is when you approach your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/friend about one thing, and he/she quickly attempts to change the subject. In addition to this, if you are the one that changes the subject for a moment and your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/friend is lying, he/she will go to that subject with ease. If the individual is being honest, they will more than likely want to continue discussing the issue.


5. Contradicting yourself: Making statements that just doesn’t hold together should make you suspicious. If you lie all the time, even about unimportant things, you are likely to have a problem that will eventually -- if it hasn’t already -- cause you real relationship, financial or legal troubles. Figuring out what is driving you to lie in the first place will help heal this self-destructive behavior. This may mean going into treatment with a therapist to discover why you feel the need to LIE. Last, but not least, if you find that you are listening to what you are being told, and something is not consistent, then the chance that it actually is, is probably relatively low.


While this is just a small list of items to be cautious of, these are the most common signs that your boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/friend is lying.


Everybody lies. Some may only be “white” lies, but everyone tells lies or “omits the truth” sometimes. Lying often gets worse with the passage of time. When you get away with a lie it often impels you to continue your deceptions. Also, liars often find themselves perpetrating more untruths to cover themselves. We hold different people to different standards when it comes to telling the truth. Why do we dislike liars, especially sociopaths, so much? It’s a matter of trust. When a person lies, they have broken a bond – an unspoken agreement to treat others as we would like to be treated. Serious deception often makes it impossible for us to trust another person again. Because the issue of trust is on the line, coming clean about the lie as soon as possible is the best way to mend fences. If the truth only comes out once it is forced, repair of trust is far less likely.


Now... here's the difference between lying and bullshitting (I know both of these types, but fortunately for me I see right through them). One of my favorite (and many) books on my bookshelf, Harry G. Frankfurt’s On Bullshit:


. . . . The bullshitter may not deceive us, or even intend to do so, either about the facts or about what he takes the facts to be. What he does necessarily attempt to deceive us about is his enterprise. His only indispensably distinctive characteristic is that in a certain way he misrepresents what he is up to.


This is the crux of the distinction between him and the liar. Both he and the liar represent themselves falsely as endeavoring to communicate the truth. The success of each depends upon deceiving us about that. But the fact about himself that the liar hides is that he is attempting to lead us away from a correct apprehension of reality; we are not to know that he wants us to believe something he supposes to be false. The fact about himself that the bullshitter hides, on the other hand, is that the truth-values of his statements are of no central interest to him; what we are not to understand is that his intention is neither to report the truth not to conceal it. This does not mean that his speech is anarchically impulsive, but that the motive guiding and controlling it is unconcerned with how the things about which he speaks truly are. (54-55)

(You must purchase this small little book, it's worth it!)


Bottom line, lying can be a way of covering up our faults and not being accountable. Ideally we wouldn’t do things that need covering up, but when we mess up, we should “take our medicine” (when applicable). The belief that good deeds receive good karma, and bad deeds receive bad karma, covers so many religions that to pinhole a belief system is tough. In the Old Testament there is a passage in Ecclesiastes that reads, "There is a time to sew and a time to reap what has been sewn". There is another passage later in the same book that says, "How you reap is how you will see".


Don't get it twisted... I haven't always been the best that I could be towards people.  But as I've aged and have lost many good people in my life for the lies or the way I've treated someone because of not accepting responsibility for my actions, being a chickenshit, sly, manipulative, or a coward isn't worth it.  Be careful with how you treat others, life has a funny way of "paying you back"...

Monday, April 5, 2010

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Blog Archive