Six Weeks and Disappointment

Today is the beginning of my sixth week post surgery. This is when everything is supposed to be spiffy and healed and perfectly wonderful again. Hahahahahahahaahah!!! That isn't happening. In fact, today was not that great. Some of the post-op issues I'd thought were over decided to show back up in full force today. I also had some discomfort and depression. It wasn't a good day. Things aren't spiffy. Not one bit.

I spent most of the day annoyed. My body was annoying me. My lack of progress was annoying me. My naive fixation on a set time for when I would be better annoyed me. The cat annoyed me. The birds outside annoyed me. Yeah, that was basically my day. I'm hoping I can sleep well and get past this.

Good News and Crazyhead

I've been meaning to mention that I've been given confirmation that I won't have to do radiation treatment. The specialist I spoke to informed me that she really didn't think it would do me much good. She thinks I'm best off just going with 3 month observation that will, in a year or so, move to six month observation. Eventually, I could move to that just being every year. This sounds better than radiation, even if it was just three or four treatments. I requested her conclusions be sent to my other doctors because I don't want to be the one to have to tell them. Better they know from her that she thought it wasn't needed than me looking like I just backed out.

How do I feel about this? Awesome! It means I'm not having to do treatments! It means I'm not having to face side effects because I seriously have enough of those already! It means I don't have more doctor bills and more situations where I have to get naked in front of people. Okay, I still have to get naked for the observations, but that is less of an issue.

Weirdly, and I do know this is weird, part of me also feels strangely rejected. I know that makes no rational sense, but I live in Hormonal Crazyland now, so very little of my reactions make a lot of sense. As much as I am overjoyed by the idea of not doing this treatment, part of me is thinking, "But it was such a nice place. I liked those people. And now I don't get to see them anymore." Yes, that makes a lot of sense. Sigh.

Anyway, I'm going to ignore the crazy thoughts and just focus on moving forward with my life. I need to set up a gyno appointment for around October, but I can do that when I see my regular doc next Friday. As you can tell, I'm in a better mood than I was yesterday. Well, I did think about crying earlier today for no reason. Menopause is SO much fun.

A Fate Worse Than

I made a doctor's appointment for next Friday. It was the soonest I could get in that didn't clash with other appointments. I'm honestly fine with that though. If I'm still having the problems I'm having now by next Friday, then they probably do need a doctor's attention. I can function until then, I think. If I can't, then you'll know because the blog will stop updating. Yes, I know that wasn't very funny.

I've had to face the possibility of my own mortality quite a lot. That's been quite frightening and, really, quite often the only way to get past the fear was just to find a kind of morbid peace in the idea. "I may die from this, but then again, if I do, I don't have to go see that awful doctor anymore." There have been things I've had to deal with in the last few months that seemed far worse than death. Being suck with needles 18 times is up there. Having a pickline put in is up there. Pain. There are levels of pain I have experienced that would be worse than just dying.

I'm not sure if facing mortality and accepting it is a good thing. I'd like to think it is. Maybe that's one last thing to keep me up at night. Maybe it's something to focus on when bad news arrives. There is a comforting peace to it though. Of course, I say that after the fact, knowing the cancer is gone and death has gone down to just the normal odds.

I have to admit though, even though I'm maybe past being scared of death, I can still be pretty frightened at the prospect of living. Living means growing old. Living means becoming more vulnerable. Living means facing illnesses that may not be so easily handled . . . if you can call what I've been through 'easy.' Living means watching people I love die, watching my cats die. I try not to think about it too much, because even though there maybe days of things being okay and days of things even being good, I know I will still face everything I've just listed.

However, I will continue to carry on and try to keep my mind calm. I can't stop the advancement of vulnerability and the death of others. It's out of my control.

Constant Adjustments

Today was one of those days where I never quite got past feeling tired. You know, like most of the time. It wasn't as hot as it had been, but I'm not sure how much good that did me. It didn't cool down enough that I wasn't hot. It just cooled down enough to where we really couldn't justify turning on the AC. I spent most of the day being uncomfortable and sweaty. After surgery, the AC is your friend.

It's cooling down more now so maybe I can sleep better tonight. Maybe I can sleep without hot flashes! I doubt it though. Those will probably just be part of my life for a while now.

There is a level of acceptance that you need to reach in order to mentally survive this process.

On both a mental and physical level, you also find that you're needing to make constant adjustments. My body, as I wrote, tires easily. This means that I get stiff and sore more quickly than I used to. If I am sitting or laying down, I often have to make a lot of adjustments in order to be comfortable. Once I find a position where I am comfortable, I can usually only stay  there for so long before I start hurting or getting stiff again. Sometimes, this can be exhausting.

I've had to accept that any level of comfort I find will probably not last for very long. I need to be ready to alter how things are in order to try and avoid pain. I have to admit, there are moments when I have so much pain that I worry I won't have the strength to find a comfortable spot. It scares me. Sometimes I worry that this situation is never going to end for me. That scares me even more.

I try to ignore the fear though. I know it's just wasting energy and I don't have much to spare. Killing the fear is sometimes the hardest of all adjustments, but the one I most need to make.

Reflective Frustration

I'm in my fifth week post-hysterectomy. I can't say whether I'm doing as well as I expected I would be doing, because I'm not sure what I was expecting at this point. Though, certainly not some of the issues I'm experiencing. There isn't anything good to be said for stitch dissolving. It's horrible. There also isn't anything good to be said for fatigue. I mean, seriously, with all this walking I'm doing, shouldn't I have SOME energy building by now? Maybe just a little?

I guess what I'm saying is that there is a lot of frustration right now. I wish I felt stronger. I wish I had more energy. I wish I didn't have weird pain sometimes. I wish a lot of things that aren't happening. I can live with the frustration, but it's tiring. It's very tiring. I think this is all I can post tonight.

Honesty and Other Hardships

I increased my walking today. It was not fun.  It was rough and my ankles and calves are protesting. I did it though. Twice, even! In the heat. Again, I will repeat, it was not fun. I guess the main point of being an adult is that you do all this stuff that isn't fun, just to keep yourself going. I keep telling myself that I'm getting stronger, but sometimes that's a difficult sell.

I've been fighting depression all day. I'm taking my meds regularly, which makes me somewhat horrified at what the depression would be like were I not taking them. It helps that I recognize the patterns in my thinking and know when I'm spiraling down. I tried some techniques I've learned in therapy to help with that today and it did take the edge off.

This is one of the things you have to understand about depression, and I'm not trying to sound like an infomercial here, talking about it, acknowledging that it is happening, does actually make it easier. There can be a lot of blowback from  this. Some people think that you're just trying to get attention. Some people will accuse you of just feeling sorry for yourself. All of these people can go fuck the right off. Saying that you are depressed is one of the best ways to start pulling yourself out of it.

I think sometimes honesty is the hardest part of being a person. I'm not talking about lying to other people, though that can be a problem. I'm talking about the lies we allow ourselves to tell about ourselves just so we seem normal and okay. It's okay to say that stuff is hard. It's okay to say that you're having a difficult time. It's okay to admit you're frustrated or confused or scared as hell. It's okay to admit you have no clue about what to do next.

I know this stuff mostly because I've had to humble myself and be honest about this stuff for a while now. I have had to ask for things and admit to problems on subject matters that I never wanted to share with others. Things just got so dire that I had no choice in the matter. I could have died otherwise. Even now, even after all of the layers of stuff have been shed away, there are still things that are difficult to talk about.

However, I think we've proven that difficulty is something I am getting used to. Damn that walk!

Better Days and Easier Evenings

Today was better than yesterday. I still had some hot flashes, but as I was in a better AC situation, they weren't as extreme as they can be. One of the things they tell you about hot flashes is just not to get hot. That seems somewhat obvious and simple, but it's also very true. The less time you spend with your body temp rising, the less likely you are to hit a flash. It doesn't always work out that way, but it helps. It's also far easier to suffer through a hot flash if you can very quickly cool your body down. That's more difficult to do when the room around you is hot as hell too.

I've not talked about this (that I recall) but I've made some changes to how I eat. Part of this has to do with caloric intake, but mostly it is about how I feel during the night, especially when I have hot flashes. I've started trying to eat my major meal of the day as my noon meal and then eat a far lighter dinner. Usually this will be a salad and a light protein. On nights when I'm really not feeling that great, it ends up just being something like yogurt.

It has really made a difference in how I feel for the rest of the evening. When you're recovering from surgery (and going through menopause) there are a lot of times when nausea is a major part of your life. To be honest, sometimes meals seem like a burden. I'm more hungry in the morning and during the afternoon than I ever am during the evenings these days. There are times when the idea of eating an evening meal seems horrible, but if I know it's going to be something very light, I'm more comfortable with it.

For instance, tomorrow night, I'll be dining on fresh tomatoes that our neighbor brought us. My roommate cut and dressed them this evening, so they'll be excellent by tomorrow night. Depending on how many there are, I'll either eat only those or maybe eat them with some tuna or cheese. Still, a nice, light meal. One that I can actually look forward to.

So eating this way is another example of how things have changed for me. This is one change I'm pretty happy with though. It arrived out of some unpleasantness, but overall, I think there will be a lot of benefit from it.

Bad Day

Today was hard. I had a lot of hot flashes and discharge issues, often at the same time. By the end of the day, my stomach was swollen and bloated as well. I had some very rough hours and I'm not that confident about how sleeping will go. Hopefully well. We'll see.

I hate days like this. They always feel like such setbacks. I know there are tons of adjustments that my body is trying to make right now and i should try to be positive, but that is very difficult. I want to be healed. It's important that I be healed. Sometimes I worry that will never happen at all.

Hopefully I'll be in a better mood tomorrow.

Radiation Updation

I went to the place in Fort Smith to discuss my radiation options. The doctor said she wasn't even sure if I needed it, but would consult with her colleagues to make sure. You have no idea how seriously I'm hoping she says they agree with her. I would really like to avoid this. Anyway, I won't know for another two weeks or so. This means I get to just take my mind off of it for a while. Thank heavens.

The place was nice and easy to find. I felt pretty comfortable there, and that is always good when you know you may have to go back to a place, strip off your clothes, and let them stick things into your body. I liked the doctor too. She talked TO me and not AT me, which is always nice. I think if I end up having to have the treatment, things should be okay.

It was ungodly hot the whole time we were in town and when we got home, it stormed. The internet was knocked out for a couple of hours, but eventually it came back on. The nice thing about the storm is that it really cooled things down. This was nice because it's supposed to go back to ungodly hot for the rest of the week.

I didn't get to walk this morning because of the appointment, nor this afternoon because of the storm. Then again, I did walk through the building forever and I at least walked out to the curb to set out trash, so that's something. As much as I hate the walking (and I do), I know that my body feels better after the movement. I don't want to get back to being stiff.

I'm pretty exhausted after today, both physically and emotionally. I'm going to just try and zone out on the emotional level and NOT think about cancer and stuff for a while. I need that. I think we all need that.

Choices

Today I did both walks and drove to the store. I helped to bring bags in from the van. All of this left me exhausted and I'm wondering if there will be a point when it doesn't leave me that way. On Wednesday, I go to Fort Smith to check on radiation stuff. If it works out, I'll be back for treatment there. If not, I'll have to go to Tulsa. Both options have good and bad points. I try to focus on the good points and not worry about what will happen. It's really my only choice.

I've been talking about the things that have happened to me in the last several months. These things have changed a lot about who I am and how I view the world. I think on the outside, everything seems the same, but on the inside, I feel very different. On the inside, there are a lot of broken spaces. There is a lot of damage. I'm not sure how long it's going to take me to repair all of that, or even if I can. I'm not sure who I will be when all the dust settles.

One of the things that affected me since January has been my lack of choices. More than ever in my life, I have found myself in situations where I had very little say in the matter. What I wanted meant nothing. Things just went along as they would. I did not want to bleed horribly for days on end, but I did. It was frightening. I felt powerless. I felt so out of control of what my body was doing. I felt trapped and enslaved by the bleeding. As I wrote during that time, it was like being chained.

Once I found out I had cancer, I was suddenly in this situation where more choices were taken away. I would be sent to appointments and told where to go and when to show up. I would be told what to eat and when to eat. I would be stuck with needles and probed and left on display. My only choice in most of this was just to refuse completely . . . but then again, that would have meant I probably would have died. "Do _____ or die" really isn't much of a choice.

Even the choices I have been offered were usually matters of suck. "Do you want the radiation that last 2 days or the radiation  that is really intense?" "Do you want the surgery where we rip you open or the one where we use a robot?" When faced with these options, I would do research and decide on the lesser of the evils . . . but it still felt like evil. It still felt like I was more or less powerless.

When you recover from major surgery, especially something like a hysterectomy, you often find yourself back in a position of feeling powerless. It takes your waste management organs quite a while to settle down, and the more adjustments your body makes, the more upheaval this system goes through. Simple trips to the bathroom can become ordeals and during those ordeals, the thought crosses your mind that this may not be a temporary thing. This may be your life from now on and that is damned scary.

I know in the grand scheme of things, the level of powerlessness I've experienced over the last several months is nothing compared to what many people face on a daily basis. But for me, in my life, it was a profound amount of lack of choice. It frightened me. It humbled me. And it has made me feel differently about my sense of control in my own life. I'm not sure what that means yet, but it is certainly one of the major changes I have recently experienced.

Exposure

If I did a pie chart of the many ways I have hated the stuff happening to me this year, the level of physical exposure I have experienced would probably get at least 30%. It comes after pain and fear of death, but it's pretty high up there. More people have seen me naked in the last year than possibly in all the rest of my life. And I didn't like one bit of it.

Even though I am fairly much willing to discuss anything, when it comes to my physical body and displaying it, I'm exactly the opposite.  I'm not just modest in public, I'm usually excessively covered. I don't want people to see me. Sure, at home, I'll sit around in an tank top and shorts, but that is not public attire. I like to be clothed and keep everything under nice layers of blackish material.

However, when your physical heath problems are stemming from your reproductive system, suddenly your modesty is out the window. I've found myself taking off my clothes in doctor's offices and hospitals and covering up with sheets more often that I would ever want to. Ever. I have had fingers and medical devices and cameras inside me. I've had my body discussed and looked at and talked about on the telephone. And when I see my doctor in November, again, I will have to take off my clothing. And when I get my radiation treatment, again, it goes inside my vagina. So more exposure. More time naked in front of other people.

And yes, I understand that medical professionals don't really care. They see naked people all the time and see various body parts every day. To them, this is nothing. It's just part of the job. It isn't personal for them. And that is great! The fact that I'm just another person to them actually makes the whole thing slightly less mortifying for me . . .but only slightly.

Because it IS personal for me. They may be used to seeing bodies everyday, but I'm not used to SHOWING my body everyday. I'm not used to letting people look at me and probe me and pull stuff out of me. That isn't who I am. I'm a private person who likes to keep her stuff to herself.

This past year though, that hasn't been possible. As much as I didn't want to (and believe me, I DID NOT WANT TO), I have had to just force myself to strip down, sit under that sheet, and open my legs when instructed. I've had to endure fingers and instruments and pain. It wasn't my choice, any of it, but it's what I had to do.  Going through all of that exposure was emotionally tasking for me. I feel stripped of my dignity and stripped of small pieces of myself. It was so much in such a short period of time. This exposure is another one of the things that happened this year that will change who I am.

Facing Reality

It stopped raining last night. I wasn't able to walk this morning, but I walked later in the day. Hopefully tomorrow will be good enough weather for me to get back on routine. I still don't enjoy the walking, but I'm enjoying the benefits. I wish I could just get to the point where I enjoy the whole process, but that may not ever happen. If it doesn't, that's okay. It really is.

You know, I'm not that good at reality. Most of the time, I try my best to avoid it. I like to bury my head in books or games or my own imagination. I often try to stay as detached from the physical as possible. One of the hardest things about this year has been the way that I've been forced to deal with reality. I've not been happy about it at all.

See, ever since I was given the cancer diagnosis, I thought it was a mistake. All along the way, I really, truly believed someone would sit down with me and say, "Oh no. It really wasn't that. It was just a mess up in the lab. You're fine." Seriously, that's how delusional I am about this. There is no cancer. It's just a mistake. All of this is just some big mess up. You're fine.

I never was fine though. The more people I saw, the more experts who looked at what was going on, the more the reality of the situation became the truth of cancer. Even when I went for my check up, I didn't even for a second believe I would have to do radiation. I thought I would be told I was clear and that I could just go home and heal and never have to deal with any of this again. That wasn't the case though. I was told that I needed to get treatment. The cancer was real. It was real.

I do not want this to be my reality, but it is. It is the reality of many people and there is no reason I should be different. I shouldn't be exempt because I'm so tired and so poor and so scared. Everyone else is as well. This is just how things go. This is life and the harsh, nasty truth of it. Sometimes our bodies turn against us and there is nothing we can do about it. We can't charm our way out of it. This is just life.

I hate this though. I hate the scars. I hate the lingering pain. I hate being tired all the time. I hate the drainage. I hate going to the appointments. I hate the fear. I hate the fact that now I'm wondering if it will ever end.

Most of all, I probably hate the reality of it. I am so good at being detached from my physical form that dealing with it so much is driving me bonkers. I hate the reality of sexual function and now it's come around to bite me in the ass. All of this reality and the fact that I had to face it has altered some of who I am. Again, I'm not sure in all the ways, but is part of why I am now different.

Fear

Today I looked at the pictures I'd taken of my arm over the past several weeks since the surgery to remove the lipoma. It was very emotional to see the transformation, watching as I went from a drainage tube to being free of that. Looking at all the open cuts under the staples and then how things looked without them. There were the weeks where I had stitches spitting out, causing sores and cuts and infection. Now, for the most part, I just have a giant scar with some skin that flakes off of it on occasion. I could still have some stitches spit out at some point, but for now, none of that is happening.

Today it is a month since my hysterectomy. I wish I could have walked today, but it was raining heavily and that wasn't possible. Instead, I folded a million towels and used that as my work out. I also did some belly stuff while I was in my room, but it wasn't as intensive as the towels. Mock me all you like on that one. Towel folding involves a lot more movement than you realize.

Now on to the other stuff.

FEAR AND LOATHING AT 40

You know, I wanted 40 to just be another number for me. Or rather, if it was going to have meaning, I wanted it to be in some positive, I change my life in good ways kind of thing. That didn't end up being the case. My 40th year has been one of the most harrowing and frightening years of my life. In January, I almost bled to death. I had to go to the ER and let people see me naked. I bled all over the ER. My roommate had to see horrifying things come out of my body. I would lay in bed and wonder if I was going to wake up the next day. There was pain. There was exhaustion. There was humiliation. More than all of these, there was fear.

When I went to see the gynecologist, I went because I wanted to have ablation.  I hate going to new doctors, but I had no choice. Every second, even though the depo shots had stopped the bleeding, I was still fearful they would return. While I was in her office, I had to have a uterine biopsy. It was deeply painful and it DID make me start bleeding again. Even to this day, I remember that pain. Oddly enough, when I left her office, I wasn't as fearful as I should have been. I would be later.

When she told me I had uterine cancer, it didn't sink in right away. That took time. It was a slow, slow reality that dug into my soul like someone pushing needles slowly under my fingernails. And once it was there, it never left my mind. I was always, on some level, facing the fear of the idea of cancer, of the idea of surgeries.

Every surgery was walked into with fear. Every time they would push needles into me or put me on a surgical table, I was scared. I wondered what would happen. I wondered if I would survive. I wondered if things would be worse than they were before I started this. There has been the fear of being rejected for treatment, either by insurance or doctors. There has been the fear of being judged for my size and situation (which did happen from time to time). There was the fear of not making appointments, of getting lost, of peeing on strangers.

This has been 40 for me so far. Have I faced these fears and lived through them? Yes. Yes, I did. It wasn't fun though. It has tasked me in ways I didn't think were possible. There is no ALONE like the moment before they open you up. There is no ALONE like knowing your body is growing cancers inside you. This fear has changed me. Facing the fear as changed me as well. I guess, as things progress, we'll see in what ways these changes will manifest.

Finding Me

It was nice and blissfully cool today. For the middle of June, that was so damned nice. Especially for me, given that I'm still in recovery mode. The really hot days have been rough on me and this reprieve of weather has been nice. I did both walks today and took out trash without any problems or the feeling that I was about to die. Yay.

I talked to a woman I know who has been dealing with cancer and recovery for a while now. She asked me how I was doing and I told her the truth . . . which is that I have some good moments and a lot of really NOT good moments. She told me to that it took her a year to feel like herself again. It was best to just be patient.

I know that she meant this in terms of how I feel physically, and in that way, I think she's right. It will probably take me quite a while to feel like I have strength again. It will take a while for my body to feel like it wasn't violated. It will take a while for my body to accept the terms and conditions under which it now functions.

But I am not the same as I was before. My life is altered. There are times when I see myself in the mirror and I don't even look like the same person. I need to start coming to terms with what this means for me, how this is going to impact where I go from now on.

In the traditional sense, the life cycle of a woman was seen in three parts. There was the Maiden, the young, innocent girl. There was the Mother, creative, productive, strong and responsible. And there was the Crone, the later stages of life, wisdom, aging, and preparation for death. Later on, other aspects were added to round this out, as these three seemed to define women only by their state of sexuality. The Warrior, who protected others (and herself), for instance.

The thing is, if I look at just the basic triple archetype, I realize I've basically skipped a step. I never became the Mother. I don't just mean in terms of not having kids. I really wasn't any of it. Even though I'm a highly creative person, the only thing I've managed to produce are some yarn projects and this blog. And now, at 40, I'm becoming the Crone. A young Crone with very little wisdom. It's going to be a strange process.

I think it's time to move away from writing about my recovery. I'll still touch on it, because it's still important to me and there are things left to happen (like radiation). I think I need to start exploring how I define ME now. I need to transition from who I was to who I am. It's time to make a new journey.

Talking Down

It seems the GOP is having some trouble reaching Teh Females and knowing how to talk to them. For some reason, they believe women don't see the GOP as on their side . . . which I'm sure has nothing to do with how they try to not define rape as rape, try to take away reproductive rights, and see no reason to pay people the same for equal work. Nope, it couldn't have anything to do with any of that.

North Carolina Rep Rene Ellmers believes that the problem has to do with their message not being taken down to a level women can understand. Men like to say intelligent, educated things and use pie charts. Women, according to this lady, don't like this approach. Women want things to be put down to their level, you know, somewhere far below education and pie charts.

I'm not really sure why she thinks this. I have some theories. One is that Ellmers herself doesn't understand the educated speeches and the pie charts. She assumes that, given that she was elected to office, she must be a smart woman and even the other smart women don't get these things. It's also possible that she completely gets the charts and the speeches, but finds them as boring as hell and is trying her best to make them stop.

I could point out so many flaws in this . . . the main one, of course, being this strange belief that some people seem to have that Women are one collective group who all think, feel, and function the same way. We're not. This misconception is perhaps the biggest problem when it comes to trying to reach us. Just because Woman A wants certain things doesn't mean Woman B wants those things either. It's sort of like how all the men don't want the same thing. We get that! Why can't we process this information when it comes to women?

On the other hand, if this is their plan . . . awesome. I would love to see them go around and condescend to all the women they talk to. The fallout from that would be so fabulous. They'd never win an election again.

Strangeness

Today was strange. I was never in a good mood, in fact, I tended to spend most of the day in a rather anxious mood. The thing is, I'm not sure why. I know it isn't due to being off my meds. I've been really good about keeping the Happy Meds in my system lately. It wasn't due to not feeling well physically. I can't say I felt 100% great, but I didn't feel that bad either. I did both my walks. I also managed to drive to Walmart and help carry in stuff. So I don't know. I guess it was just one of those days.

In a way, I suppose it could have been the weather. The weather was strange today. When we drove to the store, it was breezy and nice. However, while I was waiting for my roommate to finish shopping, it got very hot and sticky in the car. By the time we were home, we were convinced we'd be turning on  the AC within a couple of hours. The thing is, the weather leveled out and we never had to. It was never what I would call happy and pleasant in the house, but it wasn't unbearable either.

Then again, I have to remember that depression often happens after a hysterectomy. I've been running on adrenaline for so long that maybe I just haven't noticed this dark edge creeping into things. If that is the case, it can be handled. I can just remind myself that a certain level of depression is natural after such a huge upheaval in the body. In fact, this wasn't just a body-altering surgery, but a live altering one as well. I lost parts of myself. That usually doesn't happen without consequence.

The weather is supposed to level out for the next several days and give us some relief from the heat. Maybe a few days of sleeping through the night and not sweating absolutely all day long will do me some good.

Weekend Summary

I managed to stay properly hydrated last night. so today wasn't so bad on me. I did both sets of walking and did them well (at least to my mind) and didn't get overheated in the process. This is a big yay for me. Setbacks aside, things went as they should today. I'm happy about that and hope it continues to be that way for the rest of the recovery. It is supposed to be cooler most of the week. You have no idea how much I'm looking forward to that.

Anyway, my weekend had its ups and downs. I'm happy it's over and maybe I learned some stuff.

Setbacks

Today did not go as planned. I woke up with massive dehydration and looked, as my roommate so sweetly put it 'like death.' I spent the better part of the morning putting water into my system and the better part of early afternoon going to the bathroom. At least I finally managed to get a decent nap though. By late afternoon, I was able to go for my walk. There was no way I could do that in the morning.  Had I tried to do any walking at that point, I probably would have just thrown up.

This was really frustrating for me. I felt like I was going backwards with everything. Feeling this ill when  you're trying to recover from major surgery is just awful. There are goals I'm trying to accomplish every day to keep the healing process going and when things like this happens, there is just no way that can happen. It's also somewhat frightening.  I don't know how it is for everyone, but I feel absolutely horrible when I'm dehydrated. I honestly feel like it would be easier to die. There were a few hours when I wondered if I would ever feel better. It's a nasty little place to start dwelling, because part of me wonders if I will ever feel normal again.

It did help a lot that I was feeling well enough by this afternoon to walk. Afternoon walks are normally the ones I have the most problem with, because I'm usually tired due to the events of the day. For many, many hours this morning, I really didn't know if any walking would be happening. I'm glad it did. It helped me to know that recovery was possible.

Mainly though, I just really truly do NOT want to go through that again. I'm going to really up my liquids during the day and try to drink something whenever I wake up in the night (and I always wake up in the night). Dehydration can be recovered from, but it's best to be avoided in the first place. I really don't want it becoming frequent setback.

Friday Progress and Blues

I drove the van today for the first time in weeks. I won't say it was completely the easiest thing I've ever done. My body was somewhat protesty about the whole thing, but I managed. I also managed to help get bags in from Walmart. Managed may be a generous term here. By the time I sat down with them, I felt a little dizzy. I'm not sure if that was from  the effort of just the humidity. Chances are, I would have felt dizzy anyway, surgery or no.

For the rest of the day, I was hot and uncomfortable. My glasses just never would get clean and my allergies were giving me issues. It's something you always have to keep in mind when you're recovering from stuff. Just because you had a major thing happen doesn't mean all the little stuff won't show up to plague you as well. It will be there and quite often, it feels even worse than it would have in the first place.

Hopefully my weekend will be quiet. Tomorrow I plan on folding towels and walking. Not at the same time. I suppose that could be a goal for a later date though.

Keep Breathing

My roommate mentioned in his own blog post that for now, with no appointments for a bit, it's time to breath. He's very right about this and when it comes to having a lot of serious medical issues, this is a very important thing to always remember. It seems pretty simple, and it should be. The problem is, whenever you have a lot of health issues on your mind, even the simple things feel impossible sometimes. It is very easy to get overwhelmed. Hell, it's easy to let medical issues consume you.

I've noticed that a lot of the time lately, they've been consuming me. I think about what has happened to me. I worry about more cancer. I worry about the bills. I worry about making it to appointments. I worry about getting lost in clinics or in hospitals. I worry about meeting all the millions of people it seems like you always have to meet whenever you go to a new medical place. I worry about being judged. I worry about being hurt. I worry that I'll die before this is all over.

There are days when these worries just play over and over in my head. I'll shut one bit of it out only to have another part rise up and rule my brain for a while. I never want to spend my time like this. I'd rather be creative or practical or just plain distracted. And yet, there are times when it feels like I have no choice in  the matter.

So when this stuff starts happening, IF I can remember to do so, I'll just stop everything going on in my head and just breath for a while. Deep breaths in, deep breaths out. I'll focus on the feel and the sound of my breathing, on the process of it. I'll close my eyes and shut out as much of the rest of the world as I can. Breathing is all I have in those moments and for a while, it's all I have to do or be. It can be very helpful.

For now, as I am waiting out the next two weeks before my consult, I'm going to do my best not to worry about all the stuff that can happen. I'm going to do my best to just shut it out of my mind and concentrate on the good stuff that is happening. I'm going to sleep as well as I can, eat as well as I can, and make my body as strong as I can. And I'm going to keep breathing.

Good News

I have an appointment at the place in Fort Smith. It isn't for another two weeks (or so) but that's fine. I'd honestly rather have a bit of time before I have to deal with another doctor's appointment anyway. Assuming they can do the treatment that I want, this next phase of things may not be all that horrible. This would be nice. Past that, maybe I can just NOT see doctors for a while until I go back to Tulsa in November. This would also be nice.

Compared to my physical activity last week, I was in a better situation today. A week ago, walking and then taking out trash was so exhausting that by the time I got to my second walk of the day, I was very physically drained. Today, I certainly wasn't at the peak of energy, but I wasn't feeling like I could puke or pass out at any moment either. This is certainly an improvement.

Beyond that, I'm doing my best to just more forward and cope with the situation. A lot has happened to me this year and I know that even as late as November, I'm still going to be dealing with it. Forty isn't turning out to be what I expected at all. However, so far, I've survived. Survival counts for a lot.

Progress and Changes

Today was successful in some ways. I got on the ball and called the cancer centers near me to see if they do the kind of radiation I need. One of them said they did. I called my doctor in Tulsa and spoke to his nurse. She's going to see if we can get this done in Fort Smith. That would make things far easier on me in so many ways. It could take up to a week before I know for sure, but I couldn't start soon anyway. I need to wait a month before my body is healed enough for treatment.

I was tired this morning and even  more tired this evening, but I walked anyway. As much as I may not want to do the walking, I know it's the best thing for me. When the radiation treatment starts, I may be too weakened to walk for a while, so I need to make this month count as much as possible.  Even if the radiation sets my strength back, it will be easier if I have more strength than I have now as I try to recover from it.

I was cleared to drive yesterday, so I drove myself to therapy this morning. It was nice to be behind the wheel again. I've not driven a car since June 17th. One more step towards returning to my normal life. More than anything else, returning to my normal life is what I want.

I also decided that today was a day for changes. Due to surgeries, cancer, medications, summer, and stress, my hair had become a mess of broken bits and split ends. I had my roommate chop most of it off. It's shorter than it's been in a long time, but it looks healthy again. I also switched out the cheap Zenni glasses that I have been wearing with the spare pair that I bought at the same time. It's not much of a change to my look, but it was enough to satisfy what I needed.

As devastating and exhausting as yesterday was, I realized that things could be a lot worse and I have some decent options available to me. These are good things and I should view them that way. So while I may still be jumping through hoops to try to get past this, at least I still have the ability to make the jumps. And now, I'm making them with shorter hair!

Bad News

I have to do radiation. I am healing. Things look better. But I am still looking at some radiation treatment.

I really can't post more than that right now.

Hope and Stuff

Last night was the 4th and my roommate and I did our usual ritual of sitting on the front porch and watching the city's fireworks display. This year's wasn't as big as they've been in the past, but I'm not surprised. Money is tight all around. Still, we had a great time with what we got to see. We don't usually have a lot of stuff to anticipate, so the hours as it gets dark before the show is always a lot of fun. Anticipation of that kind isn't something you get to experience all that often as an adult.

Today was fairly neutral. I walked and tried to just exist. I'm less tired than I have been, which is a nice change of pace. I'm trying not to get too excited about Monday, but, as I said in the last post, I'm somewhat hopeful. I really need that not to be misplaced. Seriously, you have no idea how much I need all of this medical stuff to be over. It's just too much to handle for long extended periods of time.

I'd also like to get back to the other normal parts of my life, like working with yarn and not just blogging about the woes of my body.  I'd like to blog about all the other stuff that I used to obsess over. I miss that. I've tried to do it a couple of times lately, but I just can't focus on anything but this. Maybe I can soon. It would be a nice change.

Two Weeks Out

I am two weeks past my hysterectomy and things seem to be better. I can more or less function as a normal person, albeit an exhausted person. I do think I'm less exhausted today than I was yesterday though, so that's a plus. I still have abdominal swelling and some pain when I sit, but maybe it's less than it was before. Maybe. Hopefully.

I would love to say I'm more than hopeful, but I'm not. I'm too used to surgical complications showing up later down the line. For right now, though, I will be hopeful about the results. It's the best I can do. "The best I can do" is basically my motto right now. It's what I'm trying to focus on. Not less than the best I can do and not trying to push it past that, but at least the best.

Anyway, I'm tired. Tomorrow is the 4th and they're already shooting off fireworks. It's annoying and it stinks. Hopefully I won't trip on the carcass of one when I walk in  the morning.

Forward

I spent another day being really exhausted. I'm hoping this ends soon. The problem with being exhausted is that sleep doesn't help all that much. In a weird way, sleep just makes it worse. I'm not sure what will help me. Time, possibly.

Tomorrow is two weeks since the operation. How am I doing? Well, I am alive. That's an awesome start. I'm not facing as many open wounds on my belly. All of them save one is closed now. I'm walking more than I have in a long time. I'm off of my pain meds. To be honest, I'm farther along in some ways that I expected to be.

On the other hand, I still have some pain in my pelvis, especially when I sit down or have to lower my body. I'm still having trouble dealing with food. The idea of eating is exhausting and many meals are extending out to be meals the next day. My bowels aren't where they should be, though that always takes time after surgery and this one was far more extensive than the last one. And, of course, I am exhausted.

What do I want out of the next week? I want to keep walking. I want what pain I have less to go away. I want to feel energy again. That would be very nice. I would like for my doctor to clear me to drive when I see him on Monday. I would like to be allowed to lift stuff. Mostly, though, what I want more than anything else is just to go forward.

Different

Today I cleaned up and went to therapy for the first time since the hysterectomy. It was a strange process, this therapy session. For a while, I just sat there. I would try to begin talking, but words would fail me. I just really didn't know what to say. I mean, I did, but I couldn't put it in coherent sentences. Eventually, she began to ask me questions about the process. I answered them as best I could.

Right now, there is a lot of me that doesn't really feel like me. I'm very raw and emotional inside. In the same way that my guts are in the process of realigning themselves, my sense of who I am is doing the same thing. 

Things are different now. I am different. I may be doing the same activities and living the same life, but there is a deep and quiet part of me that feels profoundly different.

I don't know what that means yet. I may not know for a while. To be honest, and maybe this is one of the reasons I was so quiet today, I'm  not sure I even want to think about it too much. Maybe this is one of those things that is best just experienced.  In a way, it's a little exciting that this change is happening. Change can be good, after all.

Anyway, besides being therapy day, it was also the first day of July. I have an appointment on the 7th and hopefully no more appointments past that. I'd like to be doctor free for a while.