Update

 

I tripped over 3 things in the past 2 weeks, and consequently, did not keep up with my PT. Was it justified? I don’t know. I know the first time, it was pretty bad, and I felt like it really needed to rest. The other two were just precautionary, and then I think I got lazy. It happens.

My mental state isn’t that great right now. I’m bummed because Stressor is stressing me out, and because I got a few rejections in my Inbox. Nothing says lovin’ like, “You’re awesome, but pass.” Granted, no one said exactly that… but still…

I am dieting… Am I dieting? I don’t know. All I know is that I decided to document my calorie intake, and after only two days of doing this, I’m already trying to lower it. I am also trying to break my newly-acquired soda habit. I had one today instead of two. I also had a sandwich with it, and that nearly doubled my calorie intake for the day, but I had to do something, I was feeling so blah.

Am I depressed? I don’t think so. It’s more like external pressures are pressuring me, and I’m just trying to stay afloat.

Give Me Strength.

We have a right to be angry…

Stressor continues to greet me as though I am the largest piece of shit in the world. It makes it difficult to keep a solid day of believing in myself. I can’t avoid this person (well, any more than I have been), so mostly I’m just venting here for venting’s sake, and maybe a little reassurance.

An old friend of mine wrote to ask my opinion on something. On the one hand, it was overwhelming- because she was asking for a considered opinion, not a one-word answer. On the other, it was validating that she sees me as someone whose opinions are sought after.

The job hunt has not been going well in terms of seeing fruit for my labor. I have been vigilant and thorough in presenting myself in my best possible light, but so far, nothing. As we discussed in my last blog, I needed to step away and maybe find some balance. It. Is. Not. Easy. I’ll tell you that much. With me stressing myself out, bystanders asking how things are going, and Stressor breathing down my neck…

So, I have taken some time to do some “me stuff”. I got a haircut, teeth cleaned, etc. I spent today cleaning set-in stains off of my pillow and mattress cover- stains that happened during the medical stuff, and that really just bummed me out colossally thereafter.

I also did some cleaning up in the craft room. Again, I found some stuff from Xmas. I’m not really surprised. Things were much harder than… I went back and read my posts from the last two years. It shocked me. And validated me.

Girlfriend has been lovely, but she also wants me to be able to stand on my own two feet. At least she’s usually kinder about it though.

I also trimmed and polished my toenails, and I’m loving them. I did my fingernails, too, but the polish has since worn off.

My ankle continues to improve, but I keep tripping up on various things, which has made recovery from the break harder.

More about PT, I guess.

I’ve written about PT here and there. TL;DR- I’m a fan. Sure it exhausts you, makes you sore, puts you to sleep afterwards… but, I feel it’s worth it. I just feel like, “I need this ankle for the rest of my life, therefore, it is worth putting the time in.”

Anyway, I just looked at my old regimen from the ankle-fixing shop. It is astounding to me how far I’ve come. Those exercises were done either in bed or in a wheelchair. I look at them now, and some of them seem absurd to me. ” ‘Lift your leg and hold it while you are seated.’- Are you joking? ” It’s a stark reminder of what it was like.

I apologize if it sounds like I’m bragging or talking about something everybody knows about. It’s just- this is the first time I’ve broken a bone, and it’s all so new. Nobody ever tells you these things. It was all strange to me, and the experience profoundly affected me.

 

 

 

Learning to walk again

…both metaphorically and literally.

I’ve been out of work since the abdominal drama a while back, and it’s made me think hard about what I want out of life and how I got turned around. Mostly this is an internal dialogue, but I just put this in for those who know what I am talking about.

I had prospects, great prospects, and I took a few off ramps, mostly for other people. My family gives me shit for not coming through, but mostly it was for them. I missed a lot, the world changed, I missed them. Now, it’s a thousand years later, and I’m being cryptic on wordpress because I can’t talk to them about it. Excuses, they’d say. Or so it goes in my head.

Perfectionism is something I inherited, and I often feel like I’m never doing enough. And now I feel like my friends and family are passing me by, while I stand wondering what happened.

Most people outside the situation give me reassurance in the form of, “Hello, you just went through a series of surgeries, which are major life events”. And part of my answers that, and part of me doesn’t hear it, or can’t hear it. So, I’m the black sheep, the disappointment… and when I try to paint my wool, you can see right through it.

 

Afterwards

At the moment, my biggest concern is lethargy and weight gain. I don’t know the cause. My usually wonderful doctors have been entertaining in trying to come up with their theories.

  • No, not depressed. At least as far as I know, I’m not. Like anyone else, I have good days and bad, but that’s part of living, isn’t it? It’s also, admittedly, a bit of a bummer when, after all this craziness, I am still tired and overweight 😛

 

  • I am not having an anxiety attack when I get tired from exercising. I’d like to award points for effort, but no. Sorry.

 

  • A nurse guessed the hysterectomy, and I’m far more inclined to believe that than anything else I’ve heard thus far.

 

As for me… well, I’m with my readers, who’ve guessed it’s probably a combo deal: hysterectomy + sitting around recovering + maybe the meds… I’m going to ask more docs for their input.

What I’m doing: Keeping in mind that we are only mid-week, so far this week has been about trying to reverse some bad habits I’ve picked up. Yes, I’ve eaten things I wasn’t eating before… but not enough to account for the switch from a M to an XL. Sorry, no. (Can I add that it’s reallllllly annoying when drs who really don’t know my case throw out guesses like that. No, I’m not just fat. I think I know my own body.)

 

Come sit by me, Charlie.

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I don’t really know how I feel this holiday season. I was feeling in the spirit a few weeks ago, but now, not so much. At the moment, I feel a little bit like this guy.

This has been one crazy year. The Year of The Surgeries… and they’re all good- not regretting any of it. It’s just The Surgeries lead to The Talks, and that’s what’s getting to me.

I’m going to fictionalize this a bit because I care about those involved, but I also need my internet friends right now. About 3/4 of the way through my first recovery, Roommate gave me shit for not doing housework. Trust me, I know how silly this sounds- I was there. I remember picking things up with my toes and uttering made-up swear words.

For perspective, and to be fair, Roommate has been dealing my bodily malfunctions for years now. I never asked to be sick. It took courage to face fixing the problems. I didn’t think I’d be dealing with this, too.

At the end of every round of surgery/procedure/whatever, Roommate calmly told me how much I sucked- that I didn’t help around, that I didn’t pull my fair share, that I expected too much. So, with this surgery… Yes, surgery, I went into it expecting to go back to tempjob right away. Did I want to? Does it matter? On the one hand, yes I did. I liked the work and the people. On the other, most people have a much longer recovery time.

I managed to convince my Dr that I would follow any and all advice. Triumphantly, I held that little piece of paper in my hand… only to have Roommate start again with the same lecture, and again reminding me that if I don’t clean up my act, that eviction is imminent.

I can’t afford to stand on my own right now. As it is, I am lucky to even be standing. I was told to come up with a plan- as if I haven’t had one all along. You can plan until you are blue in the face, but life doesn’t always go your way.

TL;DR: I’m scared.

 

 

Tales from Surgery…

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And now for something completely different… Here’s a list of completely random things about the hospital & surgery & life afterwards that I’ve been meaning to share:

You get the stupids. I’ve had the stupids off and on since surgery, which was now, (counts on fingers), about 6 months ago. In the beginning, it was the pain pills, but now, it’s just organically stupid. Some say it’s a menopause thing.

Extra-bonus complicated surgery means that some of the sh…tuff I went through, you will not go through. So, please don’t get scared off!

All in all, I’m glad I did it. But, yes, there were moments when I questioned it… Not really about the kid thing at the time, because honestly, as it turns out, that would’ve been pretty near impossible, but more about the amount of pain involved. Surgery hurts. A lot. Especially when you’re talking about completely opening the abdomen up and taking out a ton of stuff that doesn’t belong there.

The sad-no-kid feelings did/do come, but I kept/keep reminding myself about the above. It would have been far worse if I’d tried…

Walking was awful for a while there. There’s a reason they call it the “hysterectomy shuffle”, but the pillow against abdomen thing totally helped.

Hospital food kinda sucks. Except I really wasn’t allowed to eat much of it during the first visit. Also, because my hospital doesn’t clarify the difference between an allergy and an intolerance to their food staff, I basically was allowed to only eat about 1 or 2 items off of a 6 item menu. Good times. During the second visit, it took a minor miracle for me just to get a sandwich.

Oh, so many of my food issues cleared up once I healed from the surgery. Thank goodness! It was a tough road for awhile, there.

I don’t want to be in a shared room with a woman with her husband staying over 24/7. No one asked.

The physical therapists were so understanding. I loved them.

I don’t drink much (the gallbladder put the kebosh on that), and I don’t take medicines unless I’m in a ton of pain, so the pain medicine they gave me made me goofy. …Which at least was better than what my mood would’ve been without.

I don’t like shots in the tummy.

The first day home was so, so hard. I took three steps and needed to rest a good 15 minutes before even attempting to go any further.

Nurses are awesome.

Throat after surgery. So not right. Apparently, that was all I could talk about until they got me some throat spray. I barely remember this, but I do remember being happy I had that, since I wasn’t allowed to eat for days.

I gained all my weight back and then some. I was really enjoying being 20 pounds lighter, you guys!

I am pretty sure it was the menopause fairy that told me to eat a trayful of brownies a couple of months ago.

Hot flashes suck. It is everything you’d think it would be and more. Who knew tshirts conducted heat???

I probably should’ve stayed on my post-surgery health kick. I started eating a lot of junk food once I was able to. Lack of gallbladder problems, meet menopause. I’m sure you two will have lots of fun together.

I can’t tell you about lesexytime, (even if you wanted to know), because it hasn’t happened yet. I really don’t care that much. I think letting it happen naturally is best, and I wasn’t exactly mojo-ready. I’m not a good baseline anyway, because of technical surgery things in that region.

I’m sure I’m forgetting something, so there might be another one of these later! 🙂

Alternative Lifestyle

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I can’t even imagine how my life is going to change without me needing gigantic purses.

I am a purse-wearing person. Even if I wasn’t, I really had no choice but to be. It would’ve been either that, or me carrying around a rather large tote bag or something.

When it came time for a real purse, rather than one to play with, I had no choice but to go giant. So, part of my personal style had always been to have a large purse. I admired the 5″x7″ ish styles, with their sleek design and crossbody straps, but I could never manage to fit all of my products, the associated cramp pills, allergy medicine, and whatever else a girl might find handy into them. It just did not work. And now…

I spent today temporarily putting away my “carpet bags”, and pulled out a few smaller options. Occasionally, I would be gifted these adorable little bags, which I had limited use for. Sometimes, I could re-purpose them to hold needed items within my purses. Now that I can see at least the hope of a light beyond the tunnel, I have them out as my reward. Once things calm down, I am looking forward to having a cute purse to hold less stuff. I can’t even imagine what it will be like not to have ~10lbs of weight burdening my shoulders. The freedom is both practical and metaphoric.