TIL's Big Hospital Adventure...

I just had my first overnight stay in a hospital! I had been lucky enough to have lived this long with only one other surgical procedure--my tonsils removed. They sent me right home after that one. This time I had to have a Uterine Artery Embolization to treat fibroids. Nice, huh?

After lots of stress and then a haze of major pain killers, these are some of the high points I remember of the hospital visit:

--Getting a catheter is a very unpleasant experience. I had to learn that twice.
--Hospital drugs are very, very good.
--The self-dosing pain medication button is the greatest invention EVER. I had a death grip on the thing every minute I was there.
--You get NO REST in the hospital. There were people in my room all day and all night. All manner of people wanting/giving all manner of things. I had to draw the line when the nurse came in and asked if I wanted the volunteer with the guitar to come in my room and play for me. "NO! I tried to shout through the drug haze..."And can you PLEASE shut the door?!"
--The food actually seemed like it would be good, but I was too sick (from the drugs?) to eat much of it.
--When I was (still high), getting ready to be checked out, a lady came in and asked me if I could pay my $300 deductible right then and there. I was still in my hospital gown! I said, "Ma'am, I don't even know where my underpants are right now. I don't have my purse, or wallet or anything. Can I call you later for that?" She left her card and made a hasty retreat.


Thanks to Duck, I made it home and was well cared for during my convalescence. The first week home was a blur of pain. Women reading this...imagine the worst menstrual cramps you've ever had--not stopping for a week straight. Men reading this, well, all I can say is, it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. I was heavily self-medicating, but was hard to keep the pain at bay.

The second week home, the pain let up, but I would get totally exhausted from the least bit of effort. Duck took me out for one small errand one day, and I tell you, that supermarket looked like Disneyland! However, by the time we got from one end to the other, not going up and down every aisle either, I was completely done in. I was practically crying like a tired toddler. It took another day to get over that trip.

My doctor made me stay home from work another week. Sounds nice, but I was too tired to enjoy anything. Just used up a bunch of vacation time.

I'm back at work now, getting better all the time. I haven't received the final bill from the hospital yet though--I may need to be re-admitted when I do!

Representing the tiny minority of nice people...

An adorable old man came up to the Ref Desk at the library today. He chatted a bit, telling me and XCircMan that he was visiting from South Carolina, etc., etc.

He went on his way to use a computer, and I was happy that we'd had at least one nice person in for the day. Things have been pretty hairy around here lately!

Pretty soon he came back to the desk and asked if I had a local map. Sure! I gave him a map I had right at my fingertips, and he was just pleased as could be.

With a smile and thanks, he said, "If you were older, I'd buy you a drink!"

Don't it make my brown eyes blue...

Many readers will recall that we process US Passport applications at our library. I could rant on forever about all the shenanigans we are forced to endure whilst providing this service, but I'll just tell one story for today.

A woman was filling out a Passport application for her daughter who was about 7 or 8 years old. After a very lengthy time working on the 22-question form, she came up to the desk. This is what happened...

Mother: I don't know what to put here...we've never really figured it out. (The questions were hair color and eye color. The kid obviously had brown hair and brown eyes.)
Me: Well, it's really up to you.
Mother: But what should I put?! Can I put light brown for hair?
Me: Sure.
Mother: But what color are her eyes?! We can't figure out whether they're green or blue or what?!
Me: They're brown.
Mother (in a louder voice): They're NOT BROWN! But I don't know what to put!
Me: Well, put whatever you want then...since you asked, they look brown to me.
Mother (now in an obnoxious, snotty tone): Well YOUR eyes look BROWN to ME!

That pretty much ended the conversation as far as I was concerned. I wrapped it up by repeating that it was her choice what to put on the form, then turned away from her. She went back to the table and glared at me for a while before finishing the application.

I guess brown eyes just weren't good enough for her precious daughter. She might have been some sort of color blind, but she, and the kid's father, AND the kid all had brown hair and brown eyes. XCircMan was there, saw the kid, and confirmed to me that eyes don't get any browner than that.

Sorry lady, it's true.

If she wanted something she thought was 'better' in her offspring, she should have mated with someone more Aryan than the brown-haired brown-eyed man she chose.

EPILOGUE: After our colleague finished processing the application, XCircMan took a look at the application.

Eye color: GREEN

Hey look! I'm posting again!

Man-O-Man! Twice in one week? It's really because I need more support from all my wonderful friends who commented on the previous entry, and who have emailed me. I love you guys. I've said it here before, and I'll say it again. My friends are awesome, and I'm so lucky and happy to have such great people in my life.

Hugs!

Now...more about me. I'm sure glad I started treating the depression when I did. Otherwise, I can't imagine how I'd be handling everything else now.

One thing, I have a small spot of skin cancer on my face, just under my eye. When it first appeared, I thought it was just a skin tag thing, but it grew really fast. It was icky too--it was hard and it looked like a wart. Eeeew. It itched sometimes and I would scratch it at night in my sleep. XCircMan said he was going to put mittens on me, like a baby, so I wouldn't keep scratching myself.

When my dermatologist appointment finally rolled around and they removed it and biopsied it. Turns out it is Squamous Cell skin cancer. I'll probably have a small surgery and a small scar in my near future. Hopefully just small.

The same day I found out about that, I got a call saying the radiologist who did my mammogram wants me to come in for more testing. I have to have another mammogram and an ultrasound. Lots of friends are telling me they have to go back all the time. I'm trying not to fixate on it, but it's really hard not to think the worst--at least a little.

Later that SAME DAY, I had a consultation with a surgeon. I have to have something called Uterine Artery Embolization due to having fibroids. The doctors have been watching them for about two years, but the time has come to do something about them. That will be scheduled as soon as my insurance approval comes through.

Of course, this has to happen at the same time as everything else.

Good thing I'm already on those antidepressants!

Better living through chemistry...

Someone pointed out the previous blog entry, below, to me the other day. He asked, pointing at the cookie picture, "NOT YOURS? What's NOT YOURS? The blog?? It must not be, since there haven't been any entries since NOVEMBER!!"

I've also received emails from people I've never heard of, asking me if I'm okay. Those were totally awesome. I always say that online friends are just as important as "real world" friends. It's all the real world.

So I'm going to write this entry and hope that it will be therapeutic for me. After all, being ill isn't anything to be ashamed of. Maybe I'll even help someone else. Who knows?

I've given lots of excuses here as to why I haven't blogged regularly in such a long time. Stuff like, I was too busy, too tired, too whatever. The real reason is, I've been fighting depression.

I don't mean like, I'm a morose goth girl kind of depression. I mean like I couldn't get out of bed and leave my room to face the day kind of depression.

I really should have started treatment for it a year or two ago. Looking back, it was already taking its insidious hold on me way back then. At the beginning, I just blew it off as regular stress, work, whatever, that, and I'm a morose goth anyway.

After about a year of that, my doctor was going to put me on Prozac, but we thought it might also be a hormonal issue brought on by fibroids. That's a whole separate set of problems. I changed birth control pills, and that helped a little. I also made the mistake that I think a lot of people apparently make...

I didn't go on the medication because I thought I was a strong person, I could figure out my own problems, I don't need medication.

I needed medication.

Another year went by and I missed a fair amount of work, and got in a fair amount of trouble for it. I couldn't face people, work, anything. I lost interest in things I had enjoyed (like this blog). I would think about doing something or going somewhere, then just lose steam and not do anything at all. I gained some weight back, after losing so much, and wanted to go to the gym, but just couldn't make myself do it. Textbook.

I was really reaching the breaking point. XCircMan can attest to days where I drove myself, and him, totally crazy from stress and wild moods. I sometimes felt like my head would just explode from the frenzy, then I would feel totally helpless and hopeless. I finally had to face the fact that I really did have a problem that I couldn't deal with alone.

My doctor was (and is) very caring, and just wonderful. She said there were better medications out there than Prozac (that idea was from a different doc), and she pointed out that being embarrassed about having depression, or thinking that you can handle it yourself is not valid. She said you wouldn't feel that way about being diagnosed with diabetes or cancer, and you shouldn't feel that way about depression.

So, I'm dealing with it. I'm taking Lexapro as an anti-depressant/anti-anxiety medication, and I top that off with a little Xanax to sleep and for really bad days. The relief has been tremendous.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not running around jumping for joy, but I can face the day. I can recognize how I'm feeling when I do have a down day, and I can express that to those around me instead of hiding in a dark room.

I will try to come back to the blog regularly again. I really was starting to miss it. I've been on the meds for a little over two months now and I still feel like I'm getting my life back together. I have some other medical shenanigans going on right now that I'll tell about later. It all adds to the stress, so I'm glad I went on the Lexapro when I did.

My message for now is, I'll try to come back here. Also, for anyone reading this, if you're feeling sad, go get help. Don't think you are less of a person, or weak because you're depressed. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Don't let it go! Get the help and you'll see a world of difference.

Fine...keep your dumb cookies... ArmyGuy baked cookies last night. He bakes cookies all the time. Rarely do I get any. He makes them for work, and for various people, and every now and then I might get one or two.

Last night it was one.

It was a really awesome chocolate chip thing that I noticed he was using lots of brown sugar and rum to create! I think he said he was making this batch for the Thanksgiving party at his work. Great.

Whilst he was baking, I was in the other room reading and watching TV. In between batches he brought me a cookie and a tiny little glass of milk. Cute. The cookie was great!

The next morning all the cookies were gone to work with him, except for some in a ziplock bag I noticed on the kitchen counter. I thought mmmmmm...then I noticed a paper there too. Atop the bag was the note you see in the picture. NOT YOURS Is it just me, or might there be a nicer way to say that?

I'm surprised it didn't say HA HA at the end.

Jerk.

Nightmarish X...

I'm having nightmares again. It's a problem that sort of comes and goes. I'll usually go for a long while, then have a phase of terror-filled nights.

Last night I woke disoriented and breathless after some horrific episode my mind tried to overcome. It failed. Mercifully, when I woke up again in the morning, I'd forgotten the details.

Night before that, I literally woke up screaming. Just like in the movies, I bolted upright in bed, heart hammering, panting like a scared rabbit, having roused myself out of the night terror with a shriek that set my dogs to barking. The dream itself was a cinematic-quality, feature-film-length experience full horrific creatures that would have terrified H.P. Lovecraft himself.

You would think that a hardcore horror fan such as myself would be thrilled to death by such a dream. Well, not so much. I can't explain why, but it's just different, and highly disturbing. It's all fine in the waking world...but have mercy! Let me sleep!

I'm not sure what is bringing on this current round of nighttime mental torture. I hope it ends soon. I'm tired.

Oh, and, if you understand what the title of this blog post means...you get bonus points...call me...let's play.