Friday, March 21, 2014

The Rotten Potato Syndrom

Now that I have had time to step back and process...things are not quite so horrible.  sort of...not...quite.

My mother has the idea that I have...she may not ever have another tumor.  She may go every month and get tested until the doctors decide it is a waste of time and resources. 

As for my MIL, she is in a good rehab program but they have her on a feeding tube.  She is all skin and bone, literally.  It will be a long road for her.  She will need determination.  I know she is a strong woman deep down inside and she can do it.

I took my daughter to have the bump on her head examined.  The doctor pronounced it to be non-cancerous but it is a dermoidal cyst that he says COULD get bigger and it is up to my daughter what she wants to do about it.  She could wait until/if it grows then opt to have it removed.  Or she could just have it removed now.  It would take an outpatient operation since he said it would cause a mess of blood, as he put it. She is thinking of having it removed the end of July while she is on 2 week break between semesters.  I told her she can make the decision in June.

I was sitting here tonight wishing I had a 'partner' with whom I could talk things over.  Share my fears and disappointments.  BUT my husband has never been anyone like that.  He gets impatient and doesn't want to hear anything that is not happy and does not make his world better. 

I have always had to quell the storm within and force the sunshine out.  My son's anxiety had to be tempered and I had to be calm for him.  I had to be calm to be the opposite of my husband's anger/loud bursts. I had to be calm so that my daughter could make it through the day and function.  I have to be calm on the other end of the phone all day to help others feel like their problems can be solved and their world is not as desperate as they think. I have to be calm on my drive home in the nasty traffic while listening to my husband on the other end of the cell phone give me another loud lecture on how NOT to spend money.  I give up half of my lunch time, and stay over every night they ask for volunteers just to earn some extra OT money...and I still get a lecture. Cuz I'm out throwing it into the wind just going on a spending spree.  It's me and designer shoes and sparkly baubles.

I AM glad he fixed the electrical issues in the house.  yeah.

I am clinically depressed.  I have no interest in anything I used to want to do.  I don't want to socialize with anyone.  I barely talk to my family members (extended family that is) and I have no energy.  I am not interested in anyone else. 

For instance...the 'new' cube 'mate' next to me has a bag full of drugs.  Prescription Rx.  She showed me.  She has more ailments than any medical journal can name.  She told me that the other day she had reached her limit and cannot stand when ppl ask her to repeat herself.  She had a lot of customers ask her to repeat herself  and she wanted to beat someone up cuz she became full of rage.  I just stood there not knowing what to say to that.  She said, "I'm bipolar."  AAllllllrighty then. Yay. Why don't you reach into your magic bag and take a lalaloopsy.  Wash it down with some vodka.

She will be out for a bit cuz she had surgery today to remove her lady plumbing.  I was nice and told her I hope it went smoothly and she healed quickly.  But really...I didn't give a flying pig.  Absolutely did not care.  I have to FORCE myself to ask anyone how they are feeling, how they are doing...and that does kinda upset me.  I am living my life by the "Not my Pig, not my barn" philosophy.  and I am not proud of it or happy about it.

I did have the thought that I wish life was like an Idaho potato and you could cut out all of the rotten parts like they never existed.

Sunday, March 16, 2014

The New Normal

The title is misleading.  "Normal" to me means settled.  Things are far from settled.  I refuse to accept "unsettled" as my new Normal. 

When my mother had her mastectomy they told her they had gotten it all and she was cancer free.  Then she had an appointment with the oncologist.  He told her that tumor that had been removed was the worst kind of cancer...aggressive.  She would have to under go radiation and chemo.  She did not want to deal with him...he seemed too detached and unfeeling.  She had an appointment with her regular doctor and he gave her the name of another oncologist for a second opinion. 

He told her the tumor they removed was the aggressive kind of cancer.  And while it seemed as if they had gotten it all, there was the possibility that cells had spread somewhere else and it could pop up somewhere else in her body.  He told her she could either do the chemo or just wait and see.  She would have to be checked once every month.  She opted for the wait and see approach.  It is what I would have done.

It also turns out she has extreme osteoporosis and cracked a rib during surgery. On top of all that she has a staph infection. 

It is times like these that God frustrates me.  My mother has been a stalwart Christian.  She has always been there to help others.  I don't understand why she should have to suffer so much.  Yet, I know that I have been given the answers to that question in church many times. 

Then there is my mother in law Helen.  One thing led to another to another.  She finally was on the mend...infection finally cleared up, all tubes removed and she was moved to a nursing home/rehab facility.  Her muscles were so atrophied from months in bed! First night at the nursing home and she was given too high of a dose of her meds and it shot her heart rate and blood pressure way up.  She began vomiting non-stop and became dehydrated.  She is now in the ICU at the hospital. 

This is too much.  Too much.

I will be taking my daughter to see a surgeon at our local hospital this Thursday.  She has a hard bump on the back of her head.  No one at her regular doctor's office has a clue what it is...or so they say.  They immediately referred her to a surgeon and that surgeon's office got a hold of me the very next day to set up an appointment.  Not sure what to expect from this appointment. 

The only bright spot in all of this is my son graduated from college.  He has a degree in Broadcasting...TV and Radio.   He had a 4.0 when he graduated.  Considering the anxiety and panic attack problems he had throughout his public school years I am thrilled and amazed at who he has become. 

Troy was home for the weekend.  He had stopped in for dinner on Wednesday night as a surprise.  He was working in Indianapolis for most of the week...it is about 2 hour drive from here.  He was not too pleasant Wednesday night.  He came in like gangbusters and roared and ordered and complained then left.  He came back Friday night not quite so bad.  Today he was better.  He had given me the indication Wednesday night that he found living on his own and being single was much less of a hassle and he preferred it.  By the time the weekend came he changed his tune.  Not sure if he is bipolar or OCD or a combination of problems. 

I have my own doctor appointment to look forward to in a little over a week.  I haven't had a proper doctor appt. for a few years and it makes me nervous.  I have so many things going on that I KNOW of and am afraid there may be other things of which I am not aware.  There will be tests to be run.  It will all take a while.  Patience has never been my strong suit.  I have learned how to hold back the desperation and panic and make myself believe that I am fine with waiting.  I'm not.  I can fool everyone including myself...until I lay down at night to sleep. I am exhausted but my mind wants to keep reminding me that things are not well and I want to scream.  I have been popping Advil PM almost every night just to shut out the screaming and stop the reel of images and go to sleep.  The problem with that is I am now fighting depression from the PM part of the drug. 

Then my mom tells me my dad has a doctor appt of his own this next week...he has a large lump on the back of his knee. 

God...are You listening?  I know you are...and this is not about me.  It is about the people I love.  Can we slow this down?  Stop the Tilt a Whirl and let us catch our breath?