"Here we are on the last page." (Amy Pond, Doctor Who.)
I've come a long way in six weeks. I feel healed, though not completely recovered. There are pains that skim along the edges of the places that were cut, cauterized, or skeletonized. I still need to rest more than to be active. My body is still working its way through surgical menopause. There are hot flashes that come and go, without warning. There are occasional night sweats, though I always had those. I cry at some of the most ordinary things. Sleep is an even bigger battle than it was previously.
The college financial aid website forms have all been filled out. Once I get through this snag in my own finances while waiting for short term disability to be fulfilled, I will make the calls to have my transcripts released. Then I will arrange to discuss with some school or other why my transcripts from 25 years ago were so messy. I will return to school. I don't know what I'll do. There is only a little time left, now. Not as much as I once had. Yet I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.
My body feels sturdy, again. I might not be fully healed, but I feel like it's going to be far better than it has been, in years. My brain seems to be healing, too. The potholes where memories and abilities were falling have filled back in. There is loss still bringing me pain, though. The loss of time is the worst. I'd really like to start over again, now. Instead, I can only pick up where I left off, and try to fix what I have. Like trying to fix the tinted window done by a novice. There are too many bubbles. My life will never look smooth and attractive. I can only hope to minimize what I've done.
My slate is stained. Yet I clean and erase it, again. Ever an optimist, no matter how much I pretend to be a pessimist.
Tuesday, July 25, 2017
Saturday, July 15, 2017
Now and Next
Meanwhile...
*giggles*
My healing is just about done. I'm a bit bloaty in the region that is still working on rebuilding the tissues, nerves and blood vessels. There was something in my head for the last two days, though. Sinus pressure, ears popping and ringing, dehydration, exhaustion when I haven't done a thing. It could just be allergies, but it felt more like fighting off a virus. I'm still napping on and off. I'll attempt to go on another long walk after it cools down.
The walks are good for me. There is a section of the road that feels uncomfortable. Though it's 30 mph through that section, people fly through at about 50 or so. The sidewalk is not buffered with a bit of grass on the side nearest the road. It is just sidewalk to road. Considering the copious amounts of deer in that region with those speeds, I'm surprised there aren't a lot more accidents.
I have two more weeks until I return to the heavy physical activity my job requires. I hope that the swelling in my abdomen goes down more. It sometimes feels a bit sore, but not like before the surgery. I've got percocet left if the first few days are that terrible. I also have a prescription of ibuprofen waiting for me to pick it up. I should do that. I will probably need it after a day of lifting well over 50 lbs repeatedly, bending, pulling, pushing, and walking 15,000 steps on slow days, and over 20,000 on bad days.
I hope these voicemails I keep leaving get heard and responded to, as well. Having a second emergency arrive at the same time as my surgery has left me broke until I start receiving those payments. Once I'm back at work and those payments come in, I will be fine, but financially and emotionally, I am nearly broken from all of these things I've been dealing with.
Unlike others, there's no family to cover bills for me when things get rough. Unlike others, there's no staying afloat through the tough times. I am the only source of my money. Unlike some people, the only support I have is the help I get with my housing, right now. I'm glad I didn't move yet. However, my credit is definitely improving, and I may be on my way out of here once everything settles down. That is the final step to total rebuilding from where I was in 2010. It was just myself and the complex's help. No one else. So as bitter as I have been, I feel proud to claim that I remain successful in my survival. No matter what others may think about it. No one else is helping me, after all.
The only good thing that came of this was that I already have all my information filled out on the FAFSA website. If I can just overcome the last anxiety about explaining why I pulled out of college in 1993, and why I am only going back now, I already have half the battle won. I was approved for funds. I just need to make calls to get UC to free my transcripts from the computer glitch, then apply to a school. And maybe figure out what to apply FOR. That's my next goal. (That and losing 25 pounds to help my feet, but the school thing is bigger.)
I have three concert tickets. I hope to get to go to all of them. If not, at least I know I can make two of them. This is the next thing I look forward to, in the short term. NIN/New Order/Saul Williams, and VNV Nation, here I come.
*giggles*
My healing is just about done. I'm a bit bloaty in the region that is still working on rebuilding the tissues, nerves and blood vessels. There was something in my head for the last two days, though. Sinus pressure, ears popping and ringing, dehydration, exhaustion when I haven't done a thing. It could just be allergies, but it felt more like fighting off a virus. I'm still napping on and off. I'll attempt to go on another long walk after it cools down.
The walks are good for me. There is a section of the road that feels uncomfortable. Though it's 30 mph through that section, people fly through at about 50 or so. The sidewalk is not buffered with a bit of grass on the side nearest the road. It is just sidewalk to road. Considering the copious amounts of deer in that region with those speeds, I'm surprised there aren't a lot more accidents.
I have two more weeks until I return to the heavy physical activity my job requires. I hope that the swelling in my abdomen goes down more. It sometimes feels a bit sore, but not like before the surgery. I've got percocet left if the first few days are that terrible. I also have a prescription of ibuprofen waiting for me to pick it up. I should do that. I will probably need it after a day of lifting well over 50 lbs repeatedly, bending, pulling, pushing, and walking 15,000 steps on slow days, and over 20,000 on bad days.
I hope these voicemails I keep leaving get heard and responded to, as well. Having a second emergency arrive at the same time as my surgery has left me broke until I start receiving those payments. Once I'm back at work and those payments come in, I will be fine, but financially and emotionally, I am nearly broken from all of these things I've been dealing with.
Unlike others, there's no family to cover bills for me when things get rough. Unlike others, there's no staying afloat through the tough times. I am the only source of my money. Unlike some people, the only support I have is the help I get with my housing, right now. I'm glad I didn't move yet. However, my credit is definitely improving, and I may be on my way out of here once everything settles down. That is the final step to total rebuilding from where I was in 2010. It was just myself and the complex's help. No one else. So as bitter as I have been, I feel proud to claim that I remain successful in my survival. No matter what others may think about it. No one else is helping me, after all.
The only good thing that came of this was that I already have all my information filled out on the FAFSA website. If I can just overcome the last anxiety about explaining why I pulled out of college in 1993, and why I am only going back now, I already have half the battle won. I was approved for funds. I just need to make calls to get UC to free my transcripts from the computer glitch, then apply to a school. And maybe figure out what to apply FOR. That's my next goal. (That and losing 25 pounds to help my feet, but the school thing is bigger.)
I have three concert tickets. I hope to get to go to all of them. If not, at least I know I can make two of them. This is the next thing I look forward to, in the short term. NIN/New Order/Saul Williams, and VNV Nation, here I come.
Sunday, July 9, 2017
Today in Recovery
It's only been a few days since I was last under anesthesia. The internal organs are still mending and rebuilding themselves. My body is losing its supply of hormones. I shouldn't wonder why I feel the way I feel. However, the part of me that needs me to be well again is impatient for this to end.
It's been nearly a month now. My last appointment is in two weeks and four days. I feel like I'm on track for healing. I'm exhausted today, with some swelling and had a light ache in my lower abdomen this morning. Though I've had hot flashes and night sweats every few days, for years, they've increased significantly. I have a few pimples left from just after the surgery. Even going to the store today was a bit of a chore. It's Sunday, which is overcrowding hell in this area. My ears are popping for some reason, too.
The fireworks that kept going off well into the 1 a.m. hour kept startling me out of sleep. I blame my exhaustion from the broken sleep. Maybe it has exacerbated all the other things. I don't know. It's making me very irritable. My streak of rage is nudging into the surface of my consciousness, too. If I felt like I could drive without ramming into the first knucklehead to annoy me, I would go somewhere. Not sure that's a good idea.
Let's hope this phase of healing passes quickly.
P.S. For the curious who don't mind sex talk, my libido and orgasm are just fine. No changes.
It's been nearly a month now. My last appointment is in two weeks and four days. I feel like I'm on track for healing. I'm exhausted today, with some swelling and had a light ache in my lower abdomen this morning. Though I've had hot flashes and night sweats every few days, for years, they've increased significantly. I have a few pimples left from just after the surgery. Even going to the store today was a bit of a chore. It's Sunday, which is overcrowding hell in this area. My ears are popping for some reason, too.
The fireworks that kept going off well into the 1 a.m. hour kept startling me out of sleep. I blame my exhaustion from the broken sleep. Maybe it has exacerbated all the other things. I don't know. It's making me very irritable. My streak of rage is nudging into the surface of my consciousness, too. If I felt like I could drive without ramming into the first knucklehead to annoy me, I would go somewhere. Not sure that's a good idea.
Let's hope this phase of healing passes quickly.
P.S. For the curious who don't mind sex talk, my libido and orgasm are just fine. No changes.
Saturday, July 8, 2017
On My Personal Tastes
When I was writing for real, my themes reflected a lot of the horrible parts of life. I dwelled on those facets because there is something in me that feels like it needs to be kept in the light, not hidden away. Nothing written was an endorsement of those things. They were just the things that obsessed me. When I view media, this is the angle I'm coming from. I don't want to see "how things SHOULD be." I want to see an exaggeration and creative roll about how they are and where we are headed. I get that there are plenty of people out there who want to see things only as they should be. I guess that's what gives them the power to go on.
Unfortunately, I'm one of those people that was forged in fire, and only feel alive when the fire is raging on. And I get more of a thrill from exploring a world where the bad is exposed, but I have to admit I only seem to like them when there is a good resolution. "Let the Right One in" might be a good example. *SPOILER* (I've never seen the American remake, by the way.) The ending doesn't favor humans, or even the fate of the boy. Somehow, there is something about watching him run away with her that is cathartic, though.
Some people can manage to avoid things like this, and feel upset when confronted by media that takes a look at the terrible side of humanity and life. I'm just not one of those people. In the end, it keeps me fueled for the fight to make things better in the real world. I'm not sure what that says about me. I'm also one of those people who feels better after listening to darker music when I'm already down. I'm sure there's something out there to explain this. I don't worry about that, now.
Everyone draws their lifeforce from something. I've found mine. Others find their own. I find it very condescending and belittling to be lectured about what I watch, read or listen to, at this point in my life. I've got it, but thanks anyway.
Addendum: After posting this, I realized I've had to make this statement repeatedly since 1989. Sheesh. Yeah, I'm kinda over it.
Unfortunately, I'm one of those people that was forged in fire, and only feel alive when the fire is raging on. And I get more of a thrill from exploring a world where the bad is exposed, but I have to admit I only seem to like them when there is a good resolution. "Let the Right One in" might be a good example. *SPOILER* (I've never seen the American remake, by the way.) The ending doesn't favor humans, or even the fate of the boy. Somehow, there is something about watching him run away with her that is cathartic, though.
Some people can manage to avoid things like this, and feel upset when confronted by media that takes a look at the terrible side of humanity and life. I'm just not one of those people. In the end, it keeps me fueled for the fight to make things better in the real world. I'm not sure what that says about me. I'm also one of those people who feels better after listening to darker music when I'm already down. I'm sure there's something out there to explain this. I don't worry about that, now.
Everyone draws their lifeforce from something. I've found mine. Others find their own. I find it very condescending and belittling to be lectured about what I watch, read or listen to, at this point in my life. I've got it, but thanks anyway.
Addendum: After posting this, I realized I've had to make this statement repeatedly since 1989. Sheesh. Yeah, I'm kinda over it.
Friday, July 7, 2017
On My "Bubble"
There are so many things going on in the world, and there is so much to look at. The links, the videos, the opinions of millions. It's like all of the second-hand shops of the world have been opened, and I'm wading through lots and lots of damaged, ill-fitting, outdated, or disgusting stuff to find the treasured velvet jacket that comes along, once in a great while. Since there is so much out there, there are lots of gems, too. Wading through all of the chaff to find the wheat can overwhelm me, sometimes.
Each person says something, and I have to use a lot of experience to decide whether to spend time thinking on it, or not. When I find someone that shines, it can make me feel less alone, better informed, and that I have bettered myself. As time feels like it is speeding out of control, I'm glad to have this magical land of social media. Despite all the terrible parts of it, the good still outweighs the bad. It has definitely been helping me through this trying time of pain and healing.
I fill up my feeds with the things that matter to me. The best part is that everyone else can fill up their feeds with the things that matter to them. As I navigate through a community of brick-and-mortar life, and find myself isolated in my tastes, loves, fears, and fights, this world has brought the people who build me up against that onslaught of negativity.
If I choose not to interact with someone, it isn't because I'm burying my head in the sand. It's because I've already spent all day listening to those same words, and have decided my computer is the one place those things will not get to me. And I bet the people who criticize this method of dealing with the internet do the same thing. It's only when other people do it to them that it becomes a gripe.
I haven't created a complete echo chamber, because I don't live in a world where I can blot out the "other side" at all. I've created an oasis. Nothing more, and nothing less. Everyone else is free to do the same.
Each person says something, and I have to use a lot of experience to decide whether to spend time thinking on it, or not. When I find someone that shines, it can make me feel less alone, better informed, and that I have bettered myself. As time feels like it is speeding out of control, I'm glad to have this magical land of social media. Despite all the terrible parts of it, the good still outweighs the bad. It has definitely been helping me through this trying time of pain and healing.
I fill up my feeds with the things that matter to me. The best part is that everyone else can fill up their feeds with the things that matter to them. As I navigate through a community of brick-and-mortar life, and find myself isolated in my tastes, loves, fears, and fights, this world has brought the people who build me up against that onslaught of negativity.
If I choose not to interact with someone, it isn't because I'm burying my head in the sand. It's because I've already spent all day listening to those same words, and have decided my computer is the one place those things will not get to me. And I bet the people who criticize this method of dealing with the internet do the same thing. It's only when other people do it to them that it becomes a gripe.
I haven't created a complete echo chamber, because I don't live in a world where I can blot out the "other side" at all. I've created an oasis. Nothing more, and nothing less. Everyone else is free to do the same.
Saturday, July 1, 2017
Some More Open Discussion of Hyster/oophorectomy
The stories out there tend toward the negative. I want to add my voice to the positive side of it.
I have had to keep track of my cycles for a very long time, because my PMDD included suicidal urges that were not helped by any of the meds I tried. This week should be the week. Today should be the worst day. I feel a lot of brain fog and soreness today, but nothing even resembling what I've gone through, over the years. For all the dismissal I've gone through about PMDD, I feel vindicated. At last, I am well enough that life seems far less evil to me.
Of course all the pain that had begun to go beyond my means of coping only made my decision more urgent to me. The bleeding and clots made it clear that this was the way to go. I am 18 days after my surgery. I have some more healing to do. I have a choice to make about HRT. I did not experience immediate menopause as some who had their ovaries removed did. I will keep myself in check for a while, though.
There are a lot of horror stories out there, but what I'm finding is that those are very uncommon. When I see someone with a title like "DON'T DO IT" I am sympathetic, but annoyed, too. Had I continued to listen to the horror stories, I'd probably be in pure torture right now. Definitely consider your own situation, but definitely don't just listen to the horror stories. The surgery has come so far away from the old days, that it really is overwhelmingly positive.
I remain one of the ones out there who is purely overjoyed with the results of my surgery.
I have had to keep track of my cycles for a very long time, because my PMDD included suicidal urges that were not helped by any of the meds I tried. This week should be the week. Today should be the worst day. I feel a lot of brain fog and soreness today, but nothing even resembling what I've gone through, over the years. For all the dismissal I've gone through about PMDD, I feel vindicated. At last, I am well enough that life seems far less evil to me.
Of course all the pain that had begun to go beyond my means of coping only made my decision more urgent to me. The bleeding and clots made it clear that this was the way to go. I am 18 days after my surgery. I have some more healing to do. I have a choice to make about HRT. I did not experience immediate menopause as some who had their ovaries removed did. I will keep myself in check for a while, though.
There are a lot of horror stories out there, but what I'm finding is that those are very uncommon. When I see someone with a title like "DON'T DO IT" I am sympathetic, but annoyed, too. Had I continued to listen to the horror stories, I'd probably be in pure torture right now. Definitely consider your own situation, but definitely don't just listen to the horror stories. The surgery has come so far away from the old days, that it really is overwhelmingly positive.
I remain one of the ones out there who is purely overjoyed with the results of my surgery.
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