Anxiety attack

I really wish my oncologist had given me a prescription for Xanax or something when I get anxiety attacks. I started to have one last night. Dh and I were discussing finances. A job has come up in the place I used to work. I'd love to work there again. Problem is the job starts at 5pm and dh doesn't get home until at least 5:30pm. We'd have to find someone to watch the girls for at least 90 minutes every day. A lot of miles would be put on the car, plus childcare, plus everything else. What if the girls got sick? All the what ifs came up and we figured out what I would make and what it would cover. Not much. If I could start 1 hour later, things would be better. But it won't work.

Anyways, it felt like everything was crowding in. All my insecurites came to my mind and it felt like a 1000 pound weight on me. I don't like having to have help from other resources just to make rent. I feel like I don't know how to get out of this rut we are in. We desperately need dh to keep his job because of the great health insurance. But damn, it would be nice to have a job where we didn't have to struggle every single week just to cover expenses. Dh works so hard and I'm so proud of him. He does everything he can. I've floated the idea of going back to school to get some type of accounting job because I adore working with money since I've done it for so long. I think I'm going to have to go to a temp agency and look for something.

But all this was weighing on me last night and it was hard to take a breath, my breathing was shallow, and my heart was beating fast. All my demons were in my mind making me feel like I couldn't do anything right. I couldn't feel any relief at all. I started to cry and I felt all alone. Eventually I went to sleep but there is this cloud following me.

Okay, whining over for now. Life is really okay. I'm fairly healthy, no surgeries on the horizon, summer is cooler than usual, and I have my year's worth of homemade jam. Life doesn't get much better than that, right?


UPDATE
I'm so dumb. I just realized that this week my meds are messed up. I'm switching from Celexa to Effexor again because the hot flashes are really bad at times. I've lowered the dose for Celexa while introducing my body to Effexor. So low doses right now and a new medicine. No wonder I'm looney.

Has it been a month?

So many things have happened. I can't believe I haven't updated here in a month. Totally not like me. I will be back later and have a longer post about what's been going on. Wasn't sure anyone would notice anyways.

Surgery

Ever heard of the expression, hurry up and wait? Well, that's what it felt like when I went to the hospital to have surgery. Jason and I got there right on time at 8am. We went to the 2nd floor pre op area and signed in. It took awhile before I was called back. They got me all suited up in my open air gown and ugly navy blue-gray socks. They did tests and got my IV started. It was weird, she found a vein on the back of my forearm and put it in there. Taped it all up and then dh came back to keep me company. Did I mention that just to make life interesting, my period started the day before? Oh yeah, loads of fun. So I decide after I've been sitting around in the surgery triage area, that I have to go to the bathroom. I have to walk around with a sheet around me, a nurse carrying my IV and trying not to move my legs much because I had started in earnest that morning. I get to the bathroom and had to ask for a pad and those lovely mesh undies. It's like what else could they do to make life more humiliating.

Finally I get to go in. Dr Forsythe was there waiting for me in the OR. Very bright and big. I get situated on this tiny little table and the anestisialogist starts the drugs. I immediately get my eyes out of focus and they put a mask over me with oxygen in it. Dr. Forsythe is holding my hand and I wanted to ask her to leave me alone and I was fine. Next thing I know, I'm awake in recovery. My throat is sore and I can't really talk very well. I get back to my room and Jason and my mom are waiting for me. I should have written this soone when I remembered everything! All the little details I want to know are gone. I do know that the doctor showed them the pictures of my innards. I wanted to see them too but wasn't with it enough to ask.

I know that they wouldn't let me have my favorite drink because it had carbonation. So no cranberry juice with Sprite. I asked for graham crackers later and was denied because it would cause me gas. Blech! These people are so boring. So I got some ice water and that was it for awhile. I was okay to talk and interact with people. They told me I had a catheter and wouldn't be able to get up and walk until the morning. That really sucked. I was given a pain pump this time around and that was nice as long as I didn't want to talk with anyone. Within minutes of getting it, I was loopy enough that I didn't have much to say or the attenion span to do it. Once Jason knew I was okay, he went home to take care of the girls. Mom left because I was tired and she would be back with Dad when I was more with it. So I kind of rested and was in and out of it for the afternoon.

It was uncomfortable moving, so I just laid there and didn't even watch tv. I had visitors in the late afternoon. A and G brought me a big bouquet of flowers in gold and maroon colors. Astromarias or something like that. Very beautiful. I was happy on pain pills and chattered with them for awhile. They left and Mom and Dad came. That was a nice visit and they left. I had my mom give me my iPod so I could listen to music while was floating on a cloud. I went to look for my piano selections and realized that I had taken them off. I wanted music where I didn't have to really listen to it and just let it relax me. Instead I had Ricky Martin's Living La Vida Loca and Mayberry by Rascal Flatts and Thriller by Michael Jackson. Not exactly what I had in mind.

Pre op at hospital, etc

I had my pre op at the hospital yesterday. I was hoping like crazy I would get to be in the tower at SWMC, but nope! Still, I get a private room in the remodeled 2nd floor surgery wing. That was where I was before and it was a nice little room. I'm just happy it's a private room. I hate sharing rooms and to have a curtain closing me off bugs me. The nurse went through everything with me and gave me instructions on what to do beforehand and how to prepare. After that was over, I took the girls with me to where I would go on Monday. We entered in the same area, up the elevators and into the waiting room where I would check in. I let them see everything so they wouldn't have questions and it wouldn't be scary to them. They seemed fine with it all.

Tomorrow we leave with my inlaws to La Grande. My fil's half brother and his wife are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary and are having a dinner. My mil asked us to come, paid for the minivan to take us, will spend the money to put us in a hotel, and then we drive back Sunday and will be home Sunday afternoon. My mil is very very very tight with money. Which is why I'm more than a little leery about why we were asked to go in the first place. For her to spend money on us like that has NEVER happened since we've been married. After talking to dh, we figured out that they want to show off the girls. My dh's sister is messed up and so are her kids. So I guess my inlaws want to show that some grandkids turned out okay. I don't know.

But I'm glad to be going. It's going to help make the time more interesting and help me not worry so much about the surgery on Monday. It's all I think about. I'm trying to get things arranged in my head on where the girls will be, who will watch them, will dh get time off, do we have food, will meals be brought in, who's taking me home from the hospital, will it hurt, etc. Just a million things going through my mind constantly and I'm looking forward to this little trip to help make the time go faster. I'm happy it's going to happen and I'm sure it's the right thing. Although we decided before breast cancer that we were done having children, I'm really really moody and depressed now. Deciding we are done is so much more different than not being able to have them. So I'm mourning that loss of what my body used to be able to do and will never do again. I love my girls and my family how we are. But it's always the matter of what if. Now it never will BE.

I guess that's why I'm turning into the world's biggest bitch. I'm mean, I'm loud, I'm angry, not nice, and totally a moody wench. I think dh is afraid of me. I would be. I don't know how to make it better so I alienate everyone around me. Not the best move. It just hurts.

Pre Op with Dr Forsythe

I went to my appointment today with Dr Forsythe. Everything was fine. I'm not going in at 5:30am like I thought on Monday, I'm going in at 8am. I was hoping for the first slot, but because a patient has diabetes, she goes first because of blood sugar issues. That's fine. I can call my babies in the morning and tell C to have a good day at school. Dh is getting the week off to help out and my mom will bring me home on Monday while dh has the girls at home.

I'm super anxious for this to happen. Mostly because the more time I have to think about it, the worse it gets. My imagination runs wild and my stomach gets into knots. I'd rather it be tomorrow so I can hurry and get it over with. But with time, I keep thinking of every little thing I'd like to have done before I go in. More tomorrow after the hospital pre op appointment.

Definitely having surgery now, June 9th, here I come

Well, it's been decided. I went to see Dr. Forsythe yesterday and I'm definitely having surgery. Just not the kind I thought I would. But anyways, L and I went to the office yesterday and Mom met us there. She watched L while I talked to the doctor. I wasn't sure if she would want an exam and I really didn't want L to see anything.

Dr. Forsythe is awesome. I'm so glad I go see her. Anyways, she comes in and I tell her why I want to have an ooph. She listens and then tells me, why not do the whole thing? She gives her reasons, including some embarrassingly obvious ones that I had forgotten, including the stupid period from hell. So we talk it over and decide that I will have a hysterectomy. It has a really long name, Laparoscopic Supercervial Hysterectomy(LSH). It just means that they will go in through about 3 tiny incisions and take out everything but the stump of my cervix. She said to keep that to help with sexual activity and to keep up the wall within or whatever it's called. I've already forgotten.

Anyways, I was prepared for an ooph, but was shaken when she said the hysterectomy. But I kept it together until I left. I've gotten really good at that. Do well at appointments and then shake in the car. The doctor said that she would put me as the first case of the day. It will be on June 9th, Monday morning. I go to SWMC and have to be there at 5:30am. I will be home Tuesday afternoon/evening, she said she could even arrange it so that I wouldn't be released until Jason comes to pick me up after work. Whatever worked for me. She's trying to be very accomodating. I think she's wonderful. I'm in planning mode right now. Trying to figure out my babies and if I can handle things on my own if Jason has to go to work, etc.

I feel such peace now. This whole week has been full of emotion and drama and once I had gotten it decided what surgery to have, I felt so much better. (After a good shake and cry in the car that is.)I was almost elated, not excited to have surgery, but happy to have it decided.

I am upset about something. I was planning to have a GWO with friends about 2 weeks later after surgery. I've decided not to go because I don't think it would be fair to my family. Go have surgery, be in the hospital, rearrange their lives to accommodate me, and then recover at home. Two weeks later, leave for a fun weekend, and leave them all at home. Not right and I would feel terrible about it. So I stay home and wish like crazy I could be there. Then there's the other part of this. I know we stopped with two kids for a reason and didn't have any more. I've been sad but okay with it. But now, knowing I will never ever be able to physically carry a child is hard to deal with right now. It's one thing to decide not to do something, but something else to know the choice is being taken away from you. It's like mourning all over again.

Do you ever feel like you don't belong?

Stupid freaking hormones. I'll be glad when they are all gone.

Do you ever feel like you are back in high school? That you want to be confident and happy and with friends? But in the back of your mind you feel like the ugly geeky kid that will never have a chance to be with the cool kids? It's my own personal doing that makes me feel this way. My self esteem is shot and I know that. I make myself feel that way, no one else. I have my mind set what I think is the cool group whatever the heck that means. And I know I'm not a part of it. I see myself and wonder why the hell anyone would want to be friends with me. I'm fat, I'm not funny, I don't have much, I'm whiney, got health issues, lazy, I'm incredibly shy, no self worth, and I don't know what I want in life. I'm so envious of those who know who they are and what they want. It may be the simplest things, but they KNOW and they go after it. That's incredible to me. To have drive and focus and say what you mean and stand up for it and not be cowed by opinions or who's more popular or whatever.

I'm rambling now. I hate to be vulnerable and I opened myself up in a way today that made me vulnerable. I hate that! I hate to feel bared open with no defenses. So now I want to go hide and pretend I didn't say anything because heaven knows it will probably be taken the wrong way.

Six month oncologist appointment

I had my 6 month visit on Monday with my oncologist. My levels seem fine though he says I'm a bit anemic. I told him of my desire to do the oopherectomy. Honestly, I'd be fine with that or the hysterectomy, either one. He said that I'm perfectly within my rights to do it. He can't say do this or that, but he did say that the aromatise inhibitors have a 20% better chance of preventing reaccurence then tamoxifen does. I can't have those AIs until my ovaries are gone which is a good reason why I want to do it. He did a very thorough exam and after being worried that he felt something that shouldn't be there on my right side under side, he said I was fine.

So I leave and get in the car. I want to sit and cry like I always do but I didn't. I kind of wish he would be a little more ...something. I don't know what. Maybe not take things so laid back and act like things are no big deal. But then, I think of stuff like this 24/7 and he doesn't. I shouldn't expect him to act the same way.

I have my visit with Dr. Forsythe tomorrow. She's the gyno surgeon that will help me make the right choice on whether to do the hysterectomy or the ooph. I'd be fine with the hysterectomy, but it means more money, more time of dh being out of work, and me being more away from my babies. But for me personally, I'd rather do it and get every last bit of female parts out of me. But I can't do things out of fear.

Surgery in my future

I have a couple of appointments coming up next week. I see my oncologist for a 6 month check up on Monday and I see the gynocologist surgeon on Thursday. I had another period that was a normal one for once. Not too incredibly heavy or anything. I never know how it's going to be but I always prepare for the worst just to be on the safe side. In the midst of it, I got fed up. I got my courage up and called the surgeon and said that I wanted to schedule a time to do an oopherectomy. Doing this would take out my ovaries and I wouldn't be taking tamoxifen anymore. It would also put me into permanent menopause and I would start taking different cancer drugs, potentially better than what I was taking before.

The surgeon's office put a potential sugery date of June 9th down. Then they called back and want me to come talk with the doctor before hand so she can get reaquainted with me and talk with her and make sure that's what I want to do. So there is the slight possibility this could turn into a hysterectomy, but I'm not thinking so.

I have many reasons for wanting this surgery. I want to prevent every bit of estrogen from having a chance to give me cancer. I want to never have to deal with wondering if this month's period is going to be a heavy nasty disaster or a normal one. I can handle the hot flashes and what comes with that, I've done it before, doing it again is no big deal. I don't want to have to go to the doctor's office to have a biopsy wondering if cancer has come back in a different area.

Mostly I'm scared of cancer again. I know I can handle it. But I've seen my friends on support boards get cancer again, either a recurrence or it appears somewhere else. Not everyone makes it and it's so damn hard to watch a friend die. That happened recently with two lovely wonderful ladies with little children. Those children will not have their mothers around and may not even remember them. I don't want that to happen to my children. I want to be around forever and drive them crazy. So I guess you could say it's selfish reasons that I want it. I'm scared and I don't want to deal with periods.

But I see my oncologist on Monday and let him know what is going on and get his opinons. My surgeon said she would do whatever I wanted. I just hope it all works out.

I'm getting the itch for reconstruction again

I have a friend named Jen on the YSC bulletin board that just had a DIEP flap reconstruction. She lives in Idaho but no one there does that type of surgery. She had family in Portland where I live, but no one here does it either. She went to a Dr. Isik at Swedish Hospital in Seattle to have it done. She had it on 4/21 and got home in the last couple of days. She entered the hospital on a Monday and left to go to a rented apartment on Thursday. I think she was in that place for about a week recovering before she went home.

After hearing her story and hearing so many others doing this, I'm getting the desire to do this again. I want to be whole again! I want to have a womanly shape without having to strap it on. I love wearing V neck shirts, not deep V necks, but the normal kind. Can't do that now. I don't have a swimsuit to wear that supports a fake boob and I haven't had a new suit since I was married. Not getting one now. But anyways, I start listening to her story and I asked her a bunch of questions. I wanted to know if it hurt, how could she stay away from her kids, who stayed with her, where did she go after surgery, etc.

This surgery is not just about me. If I did this, I would have to be gone from my children. There is no one in Portland that does this type of surgery. I know that person in Seattle does it, a lady from the breast cancer conference in San Francisco does it, NOLA does it in Louisiana. My ideal is to go to Seattle since I have heard so much about this doctor and have the chance to meet some ladies from both the YSC board and also from my private church mom's board. Plus, it's closer than anybody else.

I started dreaming about it and allowed myself to get excited. I even did something totally stupid. I called my mom and round about asked if she would come to Seattle to be with me when I had the surgery. Bad idea. It didn't go well. She said she would support me, but she doesn't think I should do it. Not really. She has too many worries here to deal with being with me. I know that, but dang it, it really hurt. I don't want to ask my dh because I want a parent here with the children so they wouldn't be scared or worried, and I think he would be bored. Plus, I saw him cleaning me up after my surgery and how much he didn't want to and he looked like he was going to throw up. I don't want that again. Anyways, I felt hurt that if I did this, my mom really didn't think it was a good idea and couldn't really be there for me. It was like a major pop to my balloon in a sense.

I must be pmsing, because I just bawled after I got off the phone with her. She says she can't be away that long from my grandma that has medical issues, I get that. She says she would have to come down and check on her and back up, etc. But I have to say I'm jealous and wanted my mommy. But then I just remembered, she just got back from a trip to see my sister and her kids in Idaho and she managed to be gone over a week and didn't have to come check on my grandma once. Is it priorities or is it she doesn't fully agree with my surgery and therefore it's easier to refuse to help? I don't know, but yeah, I'm jealous of wanting her attention.

Then reality sinks in. There's a good chance the surgeons I want don't take my insurance, I'd be away from my babies too long, I'm more scared of surgery now, someone would have to keep the girls, dh would have to work, take care of the girls, etc., and finances. So that brief little flicker or excitement is gone. It would be so exciting, but I have to face the facts that I'm not likely to be able to have this surgery. It breaks my heart, again to know it won't happen. Every time I get excited, then I realize that it won't happen, and I bawl all over again. Like I'm doing now.

For those who don't know what a DIEP flap is, here's a link: http://www.breastcancer.org/dictionary/d/deepinferiorepigastricperforatortissueflap_t.jsp

Brain MRI results

Before I went to the ER last week, my doctor wanted me to have an MRI. She wasn't sure what was causing my headaches but wanted to be on the safe side. So I finally go in for it and as I'm getting up off the table, I get the results. Once the test was over, I stayed on the table for a few minutes while they checked the results and called my doctor. She called me and let me know everything was fine and it probably is just stress. I'm very grateful to know everything is fine. But I sat in the car and started to cry afterwards. You get yourself so worked up to prepare yourself in case anything is wrong, you try to expect it so it won't hurt when you get the news, and then you hear you're fine. But I'm also still upset and worried that all they can tell me is that it's probably "just stress". Why all of a sudden is it hitting me? I've had stress for the last two years and never had them before now. My doctor then proceeds to tell me that I should go have more dates with my husband. Oh, okay, THAT'S going to make it all better. Why didn't I think of that before?

Also, just because I like to keep track of things, I had migraines Wednesday and Thursday. Thank goodness the Midrin kicked in once I got that stinking visual aura.

Almost another trip to the ER

We wanted to clean and change the girls room around. Unload the bunkbeds and keep them seperate. Their room is hard to manage, so it was tricky. Anyways, I was unscrewing the side rails from the top bunk. First three sides were fine and then the last screw on the last side was stuck a bit, so I reached inside on the bottom and helped it along. Bad idea. when it finally got loose, the rail fell and smashed into my finger. I screamed pretty good and grabbed my finger and said a few things I maybe shouldn't have. Oh my heck, it hurt so bad. I finally let go of my finger to see a bunch of blood. Great. I run to the bathroom and start cleaning it off. At first I couldn't see where the main owie was. All I could think of was I really didn't want to have stitches and go to the ER AGAIN. Just my luck. I was bawling and so upset with myself for being so dumb, I was crying from the day before and all that went with going to the ER, and also because it hurt so dang bad. It's been a really emotional couple of days.

Turns out I just gouged myself pretty deep and tore off a bunch of skin and didn't need stitches. It throbbed really bad for a long time though. My father in law had to come over and help move the beds around because I hurt myself. Plus, not being 6 weeks out from my other surgery, it wouldn't have been wise to help move the top bunk. I felt humiliated. When my inlaws came to take L the day before, I am probably imagining it, but I felt like they thought I was faking it and I could just feel contempt from them. I hadn't planned on going to the ER. I was freaked out into it and I shouldn't have called dh from work. He immediately dropped everything and ran home. I was glad for the company but I didn't feel it was an emergency and I most definitely didn't want to go to the hospital.

After we got home, dh talked to me. He didn't like having to leave work the way he did just to find out it was a migraine. (like I said it was, but nobody believed me) Naturally I felt like crap and guilty like I had planned the whole thing. I was also mad. No one believed me! Now I have even more stress than was on me than before. I can't seem to win.

That's a big reason why I was crying yesterday when I hurt my finger. A lot of it was pain, but mostly a release from all the pressure and emotion from the day before. I still feel it, but now that I've cried, it's easier to handle. On to another day.

Yet another ER trip

I'm home from the longest ER visit I've ever been on. I guess I'm lucky. I've only had to go to the ER in the evening or middle of the night, never right smack in the middle of the day.

I got another migraine today. Started with the same vision aura as the ER doc calls it. Then it proceeded to bad headache. Anyways, when the vision thing started, I called my doctor I saw yesterday. Left a message for them. Tried not to freak out again. The doctor's assistant calls back and tells me if I feel bad enough and if I need to, to go to the ER. So I call Jason in a panic and tell him I just have another headache and that my doctor wants me to go to the ER. He hangs up and tells work he is leaving.

I get L taken to my inlaw's house. Jason comes home. In between that time, my doctor calls again and tells me to call 911 and have an ambulance come and get me and take me in. They are scaring me to death! It's a stupid headache and they are scaring me into thinking it's something way worse and deadly. Jason gets home and after the bread comes out of the bread machine, we head to SWMC and the ER. I didn't know I would be having problems and started a loaf of bread and I refused to leave until it was out. Priorities, I tell ya. Anyways, I took two Vicodin thinking that would help with the pain. It didn't touch it. Made me all floaty and a tad loopy after awhile. I also got really sick to my stomach, shaky, and freezing cold. Thank heavens for my Warrior hoodie. I stayed in that thing all day. I love it and it's falling apart.

So we get to the ER and I think from past experience that I will be called back fairly quickly. Nope. Over two hours later they finally call me back. After talking to the nurse, eventually the doctor comes in. Imagine Barbie and Ken dolls. Now think of Ken as Dr. Ken and you get my doctor. Way too much tanning and blond hair and blue eyes. I had to almost bite my lip to stop myself from asking where Barbie was. He said it's probably migraines and would do a CT scan to be safe since they couldn't give me an MRI. Don't know why, but they wouldn't. The scan was fine, I got a funky shot of Imitrex in my arm and eventually went home. That shot was really really weird. I don't recommend it.

I have a prescription for Midrin and Jason went to go pick up the kids and the meds so in case this happens again, I hurry and pop one of those pills and it helps right away to lessen the headache. So long story short, I had a headache, it was JUST a headache, but all doctors panic now and I end up with yet another ER visit and bill. Great. Just what your zero bank account can handle. I wish they hadn't freaked me out so bad and I would have stayed home and been fine. I feel like such a loser and phony.

My doctor says I'm weird

Whatever. Or maybe it was the doctor's assistant that called me back yesterday. Anyways, I've noticed that my doctors handle me with kid gloves now. I sneeze and automatically they think the worst now. But I'd rather they do that then ignore my concerns and various problems that have come up. I'm glad someone paid attention when I went to the ER last month. I'm glad I didn't waste anyone's time either.

So when I started getting bizarre headaches and vision problems, they take me seriously. Instead of just being told over the phone that I might have a migraine, they want me to come in, just in case. So I made a doctor's appointment for this afternoon and I go in. I guessed it was a migraine and it very well could be. The doctor accounts it to stress. You think so? So much stuff is going on, too much to write down. Hell yes I'm stressed!! She gives me two lidoderm patches and puts one on me right away across the back of my neck. It almost instantly numbs it and I don't feel all that tension bunching up in my neck and shoulders.

Oh yeah, when I get in the room, they want to check my blood sugar levels. My kids were watching while sitting up on the examing table. I look over during the middle of the blood draw and they have their hands covering their eyes so they can't see anything. I don't know why, but it just struck me as the most hilarious thing in the world.

Then, just to be "on the safe side", she schedules me for a brain MRI. Great. Jason was worried last night half joking that my headaches might be a brain tumor. I don't want to have to tell him that I have to have my brain looked at for real. Just what we need. Think good thoughts for next Tuesday morning!

When the poop hits the fan...

It makes me love this quote even more

"Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind." ~Dr. Seuss

What I'm good at

I wrote this on a bb about a week ago. I wanted to remember it, so I'm posting it here. Just one of those times when you realize what you're good at, no matter what it is.

I'm the one that's always home with the kids and dh gets to be the ones the girls run to when he gets home. He's the bright spot to them and makes their day. L even calls him her "darling". That always bugs me. I want to be the one that they like and want to do things with. It hurts my feelings that they don't get all excited over me.

Then my baby get sick. Who's name does she call in the middle of the night? Mine. Who does she want to take care of her? Me. I clean up the throw up, I change her nightie, I sleep with her with bucket in hand just in case, I hold her sick little body when she's hurting, etc. I find that I don't mind it so much. I like it. I like being the one my babies yell for in the middle of the night. I'm the one that can fix the owies, wipe the tears, and make things all better. The best thing? After my dd had a bad day yesterday and I had just cleaned her up and cuddled her up on the couch, she tells me, "you're the best mom ever". I can live off of that for a week. I find that I'm good at the nurse/mom thing. I'm at my best. I can handle the puke, the grubbies, the cleaning up, the tears, the hot foreheads, the sickies, etc. I love to be wanted and I know they will remember that when it's important.

They can have their daddy in the good times, because I know when they really need me, it's going to be "Mom!!" they yell in the night when it really counts. So it's not really fair. Daddy gets the good times, I get the others. But in the end for me, it took my babies being sick for me to realize my potential and where I'm best at.

Waiting

I don't know what I'm waiting for though. We had a semi good day yesterday. I was in a good mood and it's like I'm now waiting. Whether it's waiting for the other shoe to drop and the day won't be as good as it started out or something, I don't know. I hate that! It's like something isn't complete but I don't know what it is that I'm trying to finish or complete.

Good news, I think. We got some bills recently in the mail concerning my surgery last month. I've been feeling terrible about having the surgery. I could have said no, I could have gone home from the hospital and not had anything done. I could very well not had another gallbladder attack. But for some reason, we chose to go to SWMC and not Adventist hospital just down the street. No, we crossed the river and went to Vancouver. It just felt better. Anyways, we did it anyways and I've been under a lot of stress thinking of the thousands of dollars in debt we would be because of the "impulsive" decision to just go ahead and do it. We got the initial bill from the hospital before insurance got to it. I felt so bad. It really was thousands of dollars. I figured we would pay a healthy portion of it.

We just got our insurance papers regarding my surgery. If I read this right, and I think I am, we will pay only about $100. We paid a copay of $75 when we got to the ER and then this $100 that insurance isn't covering. I want to believe it, but it just doesn't seem possible that it could be that easy. I cried when I figured it out and I still want to. I don't believe it. How could we get off that easy?

Another rough time

All I seem to do is whine on here. I usually do pretty well but when I'm struggling, I bring it here, get it out, and I'm okay with things after this in my life. It's like purging the bad stuff out. So although it may seem that all I do is complain or say things are bad, they normally aren't. It's the one time in a thousand that something is bad.

I'm so low in spirit. I belong to a group where there are a ton of women. Normally we get along great. There was a situation recently that has helped me realize that I may open my mouth too much and what I mean to say gets construed differently than I mean it to be. So to make things right, I have to not make my feelings known and cover it up and do what ever it takes to smooth things over. In the meantime, I'm feeling incredibly hurt and my feelings aren't taken into account or anything. It really bothers me but there aren't a lot of places for me to go to get friends so I take what I can get. I'm going to keep my mouth shut about my personal life from now on. I'm not going to ask for support or understanding because I don't want to get hurt or get someone upset at me because I'm whining or they are sick of me.

I really have some problems. I struggle making friends and keeping them. Two years ago today I had a mastectomy and ever since then I've changed. Some things for the good, a lot for the bad. I've become even more introverted and shy and it's so hard to talk on the phone or make good friends. I'm great at covering up but it's so true. I'm so lonely! I have experienced something so big that it's hard to not have that affect the friendships I have. I've lost my two good friends over it and no one has been able to take their place. It's easy to say that life gets in the way, because it does. But these two ladies were so important to me. It just goes to show who can handle things and who really can be friends when push comes to shove.

I hate talking on the phone and don't know what to say. Being online is so much better. I can be how I want to be but can't express it on the phone. I feel like an idiot on the phone and procrastinate making calls as much as possible. I'm so tired of being hurt by people that I don't try anymore. I see some wonderful ladies in my ward but I'm too scared and shy to talk to them! What the heck would I have in common with them? I'm not successful, I didn't go to college and graduate, I'm not well spoken, I'm a terrible wife and mother and would never know how to make bread or do anything domestically that so many seem to be able to do. I have a stinking 800 foot apartment that I can't keep clean. I know I have lots to do, but I just feel like I cant' do anything. I don't know where to start. Or I do, but it's almost like a physical block stopping me from doing it. Then I hate how it looks and so on and it's just some stupid cycle.

I don't have good female friends in person and the ones I have online make me worry that I'm bothering them too much. I have lost 2 ladies on my breast cancer board within the last month and it's killing me. My good buddy from chemo is going through more treatments. My anniversaries are this week of being diagnosed with cancer and having my first surgery involved with it. I still don't have a job after being laid off in January, unexpected surgery last month, bills from that, bills from the dentist, rent being raised, no money for it, stupid lice problems AGAIN, our car just got fixed and it's making more horrible noises, etc. I just don't see a way out and I feel responsible for all the problems even though it's not all my fault. I can't explain it, but I feel it's all my doing that has brought this on our family.

Maybe I should up those depression pills. Or see someone or something. I just want one good friend that isn't going to desert me again. I'm so terribly lonely.

last of the surgery update

Life sure has a way of messing things up. I kept meaning to come back and finish my blog entry about my surgery but things happened and I slacked off. I try to write out everything because I don't want to forget a thing for future reference. I wish I had done this sooner.

I get back to my room and Jason was there. I knew it would be an easier recovery because I know I went in at 1:30pm and I was back in my room at 4:30pm or close to it. It felt wonderful and I was more with it than any other surgery. I started my favorite post surgery cocktail of Sierra Mist and cranberry juice. I was scared I would throw up so I didnt want to eat for a while. Eventually I had to force myself to eat something and they brought me graham crackers. It was like the heavens opened up. That graham cracker was the best thing on earth! Holy cow. I couldn't get enough of it. I had my little pitcher of ice water, my cocktail, and graham crackers. Life didn't get much better than that. I don't remember if I had dinner that night or not. But Jason was with me for awhile and then my mom.

I had this great TV that came down from behind me and was a flat screen and I could move it around and have it close to my face or far away. It even had the good cable channels. I could hardly wait to see the Food Network or HGTV. But they kept me on Heparin and some meds that started with a T that I can't remember the name of. Plus I'm sure they gave me Vicodin there too. So with all the lovely post meds, I couldn't keep my eyes open for the life of me. Grrrr. I do remember watching most of one show about cheesecakes in NYC. I had th cuffs on my legs that "massaged" my legs. One would go off and then the other. They couldn't do it both at the same time. As soon as one finished the other one was close behind. They gave me the Heparin because now that I've had cancer, I'm more at risk for blood clots and they had to give me that shot in my stomach every few hours or so. Every time I had to go to the bathroom, I would have to call a nurse in to get the cuffs off my legs and help me up. I shouldn't have had so many of those "cocktails" cause I swear once it kicked in, I was peeing every 20 minutes for half the night. That night nurse deserves a medal.

All in all, it wasn't too terrible. I'm glad I went to the hospital I did. It was very close for my parents to go to and all of my doctors work through there anyways. My records were there. Plus, quite selfishly, I was in an area of the hospital that was remodeled and looked really nice and not so old and blech. I got zero sleep during the night between the constant peeing, the pressure cuffs going off, the stupid CNA that decided in the middle of the night to come and clean out my garbages. By the way, I don't care who you are, having someone keep track of how much you urinate is really humiliating.

I missed my babies and couldn't wait to go home in the morning. My mom brought me some silky jammies because I couldn't wear my jeans home. I had 4 incisions and the biggest one was right at my belly button. It's nearly two weeks later and it just now is okay for me to button my jeans at the top and not have it be sore. I was hunched over for awhile and had trouble hauling my butt out of bed or in and out of my lazy-boy recliner. Other than that, life is good. No problems at my post op doctor visit and he sent me on my way.

The emotional stuff is still hard. We just got the bill for the surgery and there's no way in hell that we can afford to pay for any of it. I just stick my head in the sand and ignore everything. It hurts to much to face reality anymore.

I'm struggling again

Another friend has died of breast cancer. I never met her, but I know her from my breast cancer support group. I can't stop bawling. Another young mother dies of breast cancer and her child will never have their mother again. Why am I one of the lucky ones? So far? Would my kids remember me if I I died? Would they cry for me? This is so raw and I don't expect anyone to understand. I have another friend on this board that is dealing with her own battle and questions why should SHE fight? These other ladies did and look where they are now. How do you tell someone to keep the faith and fight no matter what?

I hear this song and it's breaking my heart again. It's called Falling Slowly and it won best Oscar for Song of the Year. It's so beautiful and simple. I wish I could get it to show up on here so you can hear it. But these are the lyrics.

"Falling Slowly"

I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You've made it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody I'll sing along