I'm warning you now, this isn't going to be a happy post.
I can't sleep. It's been about two weeks since I've gotten a decent night/day sleep. Most days I can't fall asleep and I lay in bed for hours. Tonight, I fell asleep, but for about 20 seconds and then I was wide awake again. While I'm laying in bed, every single negative thing about me, about my life- comes at me. One thing after another until I start crying. Without fail. Every night. I want to cut right now, really really bad, but there's one thing stopping me. And I'm never going to give in to the urge to cut. I can't do it. I'm not going to let it get on top of me. If I've learned anything in the past few weeks, it's been that I can't let something get a hold of me like that.
Right now, I'm not only depressed. I feel like I'm going to have a panic attack and I am just angry. I'm so pissed off at nothing. I want to break something. I want to yell and flip out and release all of whatever is pent up inside of me. I'm trying to calm myself down. I know this is all disjointed but I'm not writing for any one's benefit but my own.
The thing I hate the most right now is the fact that I want nothing more than to talk to the man sleeping peacefully in our bed about this. But I'm so terrified of opening up. After nearly six months in a great relationship, I still can't forget what my last relationship did to me. I try so hard to talk, but I wimp out at the last minute. I'm even more terrified that he'll leave me because I'm damaged. John was the only person I opened up to completely, and he brought up everything I hated about myself, every fucking flaw I have and rubbed it in my face when things weren't going his way.
Besides all this, my left eye has been twitching for the past two weeks, my migraines are getting worse and more frequent and I'm starting to get physically weak again. I couldn't break ice out of the tray today. It actually hurt. I hope that I'm just reading too much into it, but it scares the hell out of me. I can't afford an MRI. They gave me a CAT scan at the hospital in September, but they gave me one in the hospital in Oregon two weeks before my MRI showed a tumor, and that CAT scan didn't show anything, either.
I know the sleeping is stress related. I've been through it enough to know the pattern. I'm fine for a few months, and then one small thing after another builds and builds until I break. From there I see all the big things- When am I going to figure out what I want to do and start school? What am I going to do about money. How am I going to pay off the mountain of debt? What am I going to do about medical insurance? I'm supposed to be on medications for hormone replacement after the surgery, but I can't afford it. I can't afford to be checked out by a doctor. I can't afford to get a migraine that kicks my ass into the hospital, but at least they don't ask for money up front. It just goes on top of the pile of debt.
It's insane, why can't I just let things go and be normal. Why can't I just talk about this in the open, instead of hiding behind a keyboard. I'm posting this and people I barely know are going to read it, but I can't go wake up my boyfriend and ask him to hold me because I don't want him to see me like this. I don't want to inconvenience him by waking him up because of something that's my problem. I think the thing I'm most afraid of is reaching out to someone and having them turn around and walk away.
I hate this shit.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Part Two
I didn't realize it had cut off part of my post last night. Here's the rest of it.
Upon seeing him in that bed, all that shit hooked up to him I was so close to losing it. I didn’t want him seeing how scared I was. I didn’t want him having to reassure me that everything was going to be ok. He was the one that needed a rock. I’m not going to get into all the medical details of what went down, that’s something that isn’t my personal information to give out. But it was not good. They ended up keeping him overnight; something he was not pleased with. I stayed with him, slipping out every so often to smoke and clear my head.
It was the longest night of my life, watching him. I prayed harder than I ever had in my short praying career. Some were selfish. I wanted him to be ok because I didn’t want to be without him. Many were just for whatever happened to not be permanent or do any lasting damage. I just wanted him to come out of it healthy. I just wanted him to be ok.
I didn’t sleep more than a half hour. I just sat and rubbed his leg, listening to him sleep. I wanted so much to crawl next to him and snuggle him more for my own comfort. It was the first night in a long time that we weren’t sleeping next to each other and that just felt strange. But he needed rest so I let him get as much as he could. It’s part of the reason why I’m writing this now. He’s sleeping and I’d just be tossing and turning.
So now we’re here. It wasn’t a heart attack, and it’s something related to the virus he had a few weeks ago. It’s not serious and it should just go away. Once we got settled back in the apartment, it was like any other night with him - full of laughter and foot slaps. He’s going to be ok.
Upon seeing him in that bed, all that shit hooked up to him I was so close to losing it. I didn’t want him seeing how scared I was. I didn’t want him having to reassure me that everything was going to be ok. He was the one that needed a rock. I’m not going to get into all the medical details of what went down, that’s something that isn’t my personal information to give out. But it was not good. They ended up keeping him overnight; something he was not pleased with. I stayed with him, slipping out every so often to smoke and clear my head.
It was the longest night of my life, watching him. I prayed harder than I ever had in my short praying career. Some were selfish. I wanted him to be ok because I didn’t want to be without him. Many were just for whatever happened to not be permanent or do any lasting damage. I just wanted him to come out of it healthy. I just wanted him to be ok.
I didn’t sleep more than a half hour. I just sat and rubbed his leg, listening to him sleep. I wanted so much to crawl next to him and snuggle him more for my own comfort. It was the first night in a long time that we weren’t sleeping next to each other and that just felt strange. But he needed rest so I let him get as much as he could. It’s part of the reason why I’m writing this now. He’s sleeping and I’d just be tossing and turning.
So now we’re here. It wasn’t a heart attack, and it’s something related to the virus he had a few weeks ago. It’s not serious and it should just go away. Once we got settled back in the apartment, it was like any other night with him - full of laughter and foot slaps. He’s going to be ok.
Hopefully now I can sleep.
I didn’t start writing this to go off on a tangent about the ins and outs of faith and belief. I started writing this because last night we thought Mack had a heart attack, and while I was freaked out at the time, the whole thing just came crashing down on me and I needed a way to release some stress. Writing has always helped. It might not seem connected, but it is.
I’ve always believed in something. I never thought that there wasn’t some higher power or deity running the show. I’ve toyed with many theories over the years. I’ve gone through many phases, practicing different religions, discussing and reading up on many more. I never wanted to call myself a Christian, due to bad experiences with people pushing it on me when I was looking for answers. Also, because I was one of those people who didn’t want to follow what most people were doing, because it was what most people were doing. I wanted to be different.
What I stuck with for a long time, was never really a defined “religion” I found in most religions I had read up on, what it boiled down to was being a decent person, to yourself and to others. Helping when you can, taking help when needed and paying it forward. If anyone asked, I said I was Agnostic, claiming, “I believe in something, but I don’t know what it is.” A lot of people are of the opinion that Agnostic is not taking a stand either way. Whichever they define it as; I’ve come to realize that it’s kind of a bullshit, middle ground stance. The point of faith is to actually believe in something. To say “I believe in God, and trust that He is going to guide me through my trials, and welcome me with open arms at the end.”
I’m not claiming that if you are X religion, you’re going to Hell. I think that as long as you live your life as a decent, caring person, God will welcome you into Heaven at the end of your journey. If you go against that, but genuinely ask for forgiveness and live your life the best way you can, He will see that.
I never, ever thought I would call myself a Christian. We weren’t raised in a house where we went to Church or talked about God. My parents both had that pushed onto them, and wanted us to make up our own minds about our own beliefs. The few times I willingly went to church when I was looking for some sort of answer, it was pushed on to me the moment they knew I was just kind of “browsing”. I hated that. One church found out I was never baptized and wanted to do it right then and there. Without my family. Without me having any real knowledge about Christianity besides the basics. I thought it was absolutely absurd. That being forced on me angered me so much, I turned away from it and didn’t look back until years later. Even three months ago, I would have told you I was Agnostic. I’ve always believed that everything happens for a reason, and that someone is designing it all, but I would never say, “It’s God’s plan”.
That all started to change a few months back, with a late night conversation with Mack. He pretty much said, “Being Agnostic is such a pussy ass way out of making a decision”. I wasn’t offended, because I knew he was right. At the same time, I knew what I had molded my faith into was Christianity without the commitment or label.
We were going through a rough time, financially. When I moved down here, I was all but guaranteed a job upon arrival. Once I got down here, however, that job interviewed me and never called me back. I had multiple interviews, with nothing coming of it. Mack was carrying me on what he was barely making ends meet before I came down. It finally reached a point where if I didn’t get hired in the next two weeks, I had to go back to Minnesota. I was terrified of that outcome. Here I am, finally in a normal, loving relationship, and it was about to go back to seeing one another via webcam until we could get enough money together to try again.
So I did something stupid. Instead of treating this as a normal relationship where I could go to him and vent out my stress, I started cutting again. I couldn’t sleep; I was getting physically sick from the stress. I waited until Mack fell asleep, went into another room or outside and cried. I would cry until I couldn’t anymore, and then I would cut until my mind was off my stress and on to my pain. Then I would finally fall asleep. There were nights that I would take sleeping pills, and still be up for more than 24 hours. I was unable to sleep until I had cut. I felt like shit for it. I felt like shit because I was down here, burdening Mack. I didn’t want to go to him and vent, because I somehow felt I didn’t deserve to have the right to. I was scared and depressed and stressed.
Then one night, I went outside to do my thing. I sat and smoked and cried. I leaned against the truck and looked up. Something right then clicked for me. I asked for forgiveness for all the shitty things I’d done. I prayed. To God. Not to some chance higher power. I said I was sorry for putting off the inevitable for all these years. I put my life into His hands. Even when I was so sick I couldn’t eat for days, and in intense pain before my surgery, I was never able to do that. A few days later, I interviewed at my current job, and was hired that day. You can interpret that any way you want, but I feel that God heard me that night.
That night solidified my faith. It wasn’t the fact that I got the job. I prayed for peace and guidance and it was something I received that night. I felt that everything was going to be ok, the second I ended my little “Dear God, it’s me, Emily” moment. I put my life into His hands and He guided me to a solution. It was something I knew then, I am Emily-Christian, but it wasn’t something I mentioned to anyone until writing this.
What brings me to writing this all down is one of the scariest things I’ve ever been through. Mack got really sick two weeks ago. Since then, he’d been having chest pains. He didn’t tell me until three or four days ago. That day, they had gotten so bad while he was working he almost called an ambulance. The next day, it happened again, but worse. It was while he was at work, and it actually dropped him to the ground. He had shooting pains in his arm, and his fingers were numb. His boss took him to the ER, and came to pick me up. The second I opened the door and saw Mack’s boss standing there, I knew what had happened and for a long time, I couldn’t think. I heard Darren talking, but it wasn’t registering that he was speaking to me. He drove me up to the hospital and led me to Mack’s room.
I’ve always believed in something. I never thought that there wasn’t some higher power or deity running the show. I’ve toyed with many theories over the years. I’ve gone through many phases, practicing different religions, discussing and reading up on many more. I never wanted to call myself a Christian, due to bad experiences with people pushing it on me when I was looking for answers. Also, because I was one of those people who didn’t want to follow what most people were doing, because it was what most people were doing. I wanted to be different.
What I stuck with for a long time, was never really a defined “religion” I found in most religions I had read up on, what it boiled down to was being a decent person, to yourself and to others. Helping when you can, taking help when needed and paying it forward. If anyone asked, I said I was Agnostic, claiming, “I believe in something, but I don’t know what it is.” A lot of people are of the opinion that Agnostic is not taking a stand either way. Whichever they define it as; I’ve come to realize that it’s kind of a bullshit, middle ground stance. The point of faith is to actually believe in something. To say “I believe in God, and trust that He is going to guide me through my trials, and welcome me with open arms at the end.”
I’m not claiming that if you are X religion, you’re going to Hell. I think that as long as you live your life as a decent, caring person, God will welcome you into Heaven at the end of your journey. If you go against that, but genuinely ask for forgiveness and live your life the best way you can, He will see that.
I never, ever thought I would call myself a Christian. We weren’t raised in a house where we went to Church or talked about God. My parents both had that pushed onto them, and wanted us to make up our own minds about our own beliefs. The few times I willingly went to church when I was looking for some sort of answer, it was pushed on to me the moment they knew I was just kind of “browsing”. I hated that. One church found out I was never baptized and wanted to do it right then and there. Without my family. Without me having any real knowledge about Christianity besides the basics. I thought it was absolutely absurd. That being forced on me angered me so much, I turned away from it and didn’t look back until years later. Even three months ago, I would have told you I was Agnostic. I’ve always believed that everything happens for a reason, and that someone is designing it all, but I would never say, “It’s God’s plan”.
That all started to change a few months back, with a late night conversation with Mack. He pretty much said, “Being Agnostic is such a pussy ass way out of making a decision”. I wasn’t offended, because I knew he was right. At the same time, I knew what I had molded my faith into was Christianity without the commitment or label.
We were going through a rough time, financially. When I moved down here, I was all but guaranteed a job upon arrival. Once I got down here, however, that job interviewed me and never called me back. I had multiple interviews, with nothing coming of it. Mack was carrying me on what he was barely making ends meet before I came down. It finally reached a point where if I didn’t get hired in the next two weeks, I had to go back to Minnesota. I was terrified of that outcome. Here I am, finally in a normal, loving relationship, and it was about to go back to seeing one another via webcam until we could get enough money together to try again.
So I did something stupid. Instead of treating this as a normal relationship where I could go to him and vent out my stress, I started cutting again. I couldn’t sleep; I was getting physically sick from the stress. I waited until Mack fell asleep, went into another room or outside and cried. I would cry until I couldn’t anymore, and then I would cut until my mind was off my stress and on to my pain. Then I would finally fall asleep. There were nights that I would take sleeping pills, and still be up for more than 24 hours. I was unable to sleep until I had cut. I felt like shit for it. I felt like shit because I was down here, burdening Mack. I didn’t want to go to him and vent, because I somehow felt I didn’t deserve to have the right to. I was scared and depressed and stressed.
Then one night, I went outside to do my thing. I sat and smoked and cried. I leaned against the truck and looked up. Something right then clicked for me. I asked for forgiveness for all the shitty things I’d done. I prayed. To God. Not to some chance higher power. I said I was sorry for putting off the inevitable for all these years. I put my life into His hands. Even when I was so sick I couldn’t eat for days, and in intense pain before my surgery, I was never able to do that. A few days later, I interviewed at my current job, and was hired that day. You can interpret that any way you want, but I feel that God heard me that night.
That night solidified my faith. It wasn’t the fact that I got the job. I prayed for peace and guidance and it was something I received that night. I felt that everything was going to be ok, the second I ended my little “Dear God, it’s me, Emily” moment. I put my life into His hands and He guided me to a solution. It was something I knew then, I am Emily-Christian, but it wasn’t something I mentioned to anyone until writing this.
What brings me to writing this all down is one of the scariest things I’ve ever been through. Mack got really sick two weeks ago. Since then, he’d been having chest pains. He didn’t tell me until three or four days ago. That day, they had gotten so bad while he was working he almost called an ambulance. The next day, it happened again, but worse. It was while he was at work, and it actually dropped him to the ground. He had shooting pains in his arm, and his fingers were numb. His boss took him to the ER, and came to pick me up. The second I opened the door and saw Mack’s boss standing there, I knew what had happened and for a long time, I couldn’t think. I heard Darren talking, but it wasn’t registering that he was speaking to me. He drove me up to the hospital and led me to Mack’s room.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
I forgot this blog exsisted.
Seriously, my bad. I know there's a whopping five people who read this, if that- but I still feel kind of bad.
The past few months have been pretty strange. Not strange, really- but lots of highs and lows. Very stressful. I was all but promised a job before I came down here and that fell through within the first few weeks. Since then it's been nothing but apply for a job, have an interview, and never hear another word. I had applied at Kmart, gone to two interviews and had them run me around for a month and a half. I just finally got a job at a motel in town, they called me back the day I interviewed, so that was nice. The second they offered me a job, Kmart called me back. I've also had more phone calls wanting to set up interviews since I started my job, then I have had all month.
So I started the job, and it's going quite nicely. Fairly easy, most of the customers are normal human beings. Not much screaming. They've never hired anyone as young as me, because once I finish training, I will be the only person working and in charge of a 40 room hotel. Yay, responsibility.
So I'm alive, in case anyone was wondering. Incredibly less stressed than I was last week. I'm thinking about writing a little retarded short story and posting it here, but we'll see. I need something to do to be creative because it's driving me insane, not being able to paint.
The past few months have been pretty strange. Not strange, really- but lots of highs and lows. Very stressful. I was all but promised a job before I came down here and that fell through within the first few weeks. Since then it's been nothing but apply for a job, have an interview, and never hear another word. I had applied at Kmart, gone to two interviews and had them run me around for a month and a half. I just finally got a job at a motel in town, they called me back the day I interviewed, so that was nice. The second they offered me a job, Kmart called me back. I've also had more phone calls wanting to set up interviews since I started my job, then I have had all month.
So I started the job, and it's going quite nicely. Fairly easy, most of the customers are normal human beings. Not much screaming. They've never hired anyone as young as me, because once I finish training, I will be the only person working and in charge of a 40 room hotel. Yay, responsibility.
So I'm alive, in case anyone was wondering. Incredibly less stressed than I was last week. I'm thinking about writing a little retarded short story and posting it here, but we'll see. I need something to do to be creative because it's driving me insane, not being able to paint.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Things are looking up
Last week was a pretty rough one. On top of having a rough Father's Day, I was just in a general funk the whole week. I found out on Friday that one of my aunts was in the hospital with a collapsed lung, which turned out stemmed from a tumor growing in her Bronchial Tube. It's not in a place that can be operated on, it is cancerous and they are doing Chemo (from what I've heard, anyway.) I have been stressed about finding a job here, when I'm going to see Mack next, and I just had a general case of the blahs.
This week has been going a ton smoother. I recently got in contact with a friend from my childhood, one I have been thinking about a ton for the past few months and who I haven't seen since his brother's funeral. The day we started exchanging IM's, we talked for a few hours. About his brother, psychology theories, music and our love lives. It was great. We're hooking up for The Taste of Minnesota on Friday, and I'm attending my first hard metal concert, Judas Priest and Whitesnake. I'm pretty stoked.
Mack and I have discussed in further detail what it would take to get me down there permanently. We've got a bit more of a plan now, but that plan can only happen once I find a job. I've sent out countless applications and resumes in the past few days, just crossing my fingers for callbacks now.
No one is going to be surprised that I'm moving. It's become some sort of in joke now. Everyone I've run into since being back home has asked, "So, are you sticking around this time?"
I was planning on it. For awhile at least, but long distance relationships suck ass and it puts way too much stress on the people involved. I'm not losing Mack, the person who was there for me every night, cheering me up, making me laugh, making me feel beautiful again while I was going through the worst six months in my life...I'm not losing him and this relationship over something that's fairly easy to work around.
I say no one is going to be surprised, but oh man, are they going to be pissed.
My mom knew right away I was taking off again. She's already been helping me get my car fixed enough to drive down there. Helping me pack, get things organized to leave. She's the best person in the world, she's so understanding and I love her.
My dad is another story. When I was visiting Mack, he would not answer my phone calls or texts the entire time I was in Illinois. He will walk away from me if I even if I start talking about Mack, or anything to do with IL. He's the most childish person I know, and I know he's going to flip shit when I tell him I'm leaving again.
My cousin, Sammy, is one of the greatest friends a person could wish for. I know she is going to be incredibly hurt when I leave and she is the only person I'm concerned about telling. She's helped me out so much in the past few years. She is, for all intents and purposes, my big sister. I love her dearly, and I hate leaving her- I hate leaving everyone.
I can understand why people have a problem with me taking off again. Green Bay was nothing like it was supposed to be. I was shot down repeatedly for a chance at a relationship when the whole reason I moved out there in the first place was to be with someone. He gave me excuse after excuse about not wanting to date once I got out there, even though before I moved, we had talked about nothing but us being together. I sucked it up as best I could, worked, paid my share of the bills and lived my own life. When I told him I was leaving, he then confessed his undying love for me, became abusive when I rejected him and I bailed.
I went to Oregon from there, to be with John. Things went ok at first, and then we started having problems. I would bring up what was going on, to have things change for a few weeks at the most, and then end up in the same routine over and over. Until I got sick, and it got worse. I wasn't able to cook and clean, I lost my job and the mental abuse I took from that was something I didn't think I could get over.
But I did. With the help from Mack. So my track record of moving away, and getting into these shitty situations is high to say the least. I don't blame people for thinking something is going to go wrong with this one. All I can really say, is that I feel with everything in me that he was put in my life for a reason, and I think that reason is to make me incredibly happy. I think I was put in his life for the same reason. And I think we both deserve it.
So I tell everyone who gives me shit this: I'll never know until I go down there and give this everything I can.
That's exactly what I plan on doing.
This week has been going a ton smoother. I recently got in contact with a friend from my childhood, one I have been thinking about a ton for the past few months and who I haven't seen since his brother's funeral. The day we started exchanging IM's, we talked for a few hours. About his brother, psychology theories, music and our love lives. It was great. We're hooking up for The Taste of Minnesota on Friday, and I'm attending my first hard metal concert, Judas Priest and Whitesnake. I'm pretty stoked.
Mack and I have discussed in further detail what it would take to get me down there permanently. We've got a bit more of a plan now, but that plan can only happen once I find a job. I've sent out countless applications and resumes in the past few days, just crossing my fingers for callbacks now.
No one is going to be surprised that I'm moving. It's become some sort of in joke now. Everyone I've run into since being back home has asked, "So, are you sticking around this time?"
I was planning on it. For awhile at least, but long distance relationships suck ass and it puts way too much stress on the people involved. I'm not losing Mack, the person who was there for me every night, cheering me up, making me laugh, making me feel beautiful again while I was going through the worst six months in my life...I'm not losing him and this relationship over something that's fairly easy to work around.
I say no one is going to be surprised, but oh man, are they going to be pissed.
My mom knew right away I was taking off again. She's already been helping me get my car fixed enough to drive down there. Helping me pack, get things organized to leave. She's the best person in the world, she's so understanding and I love her.
My dad is another story. When I was visiting Mack, he would not answer my phone calls or texts the entire time I was in Illinois. He will walk away from me if I even if I start talking about Mack, or anything to do with IL. He's the most childish person I know, and I know he's going to flip shit when I tell him I'm leaving again.
My cousin, Sammy, is one of the greatest friends a person could wish for. I know she is going to be incredibly hurt when I leave and she is the only person I'm concerned about telling. She's helped me out so much in the past few years. She is, for all intents and purposes, my big sister. I love her dearly, and I hate leaving her- I hate leaving everyone.
I can understand why people have a problem with me taking off again. Green Bay was nothing like it was supposed to be. I was shot down repeatedly for a chance at a relationship when the whole reason I moved out there in the first place was to be with someone. He gave me excuse after excuse about not wanting to date once I got out there, even though before I moved, we had talked about nothing but us being together. I sucked it up as best I could, worked, paid my share of the bills and lived my own life. When I told him I was leaving, he then confessed his undying love for me, became abusive when I rejected him and I bailed.
I went to Oregon from there, to be with John. Things went ok at first, and then we started having problems. I would bring up what was going on, to have things change for a few weeks at the most, and then end up in the same routine over and over. Until I got sick, and it got worse. I wasn't able to cook and clean, I lost my job and the mental abuse I took from that was something I didn't think I could get over.
But I did. With the help from Mack. So my track record of moving away, and getting into these shitty situations is high to say the least. I don't blame people for thinking something is going to go wrong with this one. All I can really say, is that I feel with everything in me that he was put in my life for a reason, and I think that reason is to make me incredibly happy. I think I was put in his life for the same reason. And I think we both deserve it.
So I tell everyone who gives me shit this: I'll never know until I go down there and give this everything I can.
That's exactly what I plan on doing.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Been A Strange Few Days
The past few days have been kind of...weird. I've been in a funk of sorts, and trying to climb out of it has proven difficult. Luckily I've had the help of some good friends, and the best man a woman could hope for.
When my dad came out to Oregon before I had my surgery, I thought things might not be so strained between us when I got back to Minnesota. I was proven wrong once again, and because he's paying my cell phone bill, I try to have a semi-civil relationship with him. He doesn't make it that easy.
My living situation isn't the greatest at the moment, and of course no one can find a damn job to save their lives right now. It's becoming a huge burden on my mother being here and I hate accepting help from people in any situation, and one where I'm affecting someone negatively just kind of blows.
On a lighter note, I've been working on a painting the past few days, one I needed to finish from Oregon, and I think I'm getting close to done with it, which is exciting. I've thought about posting ads on Craigslist trying to sell them, but I'm not sure they're good enough where people would buy them. Also, I'm not sure if I could part with them. It'd be a nice way to get some quick cash, though. And a nice way to maybe get another bus ticket.
When my dad came out to Oregon before I had my surgery, I thought things might not be so strained between us when I got back to Minnesota. I was proven wrong once again, and because he's paying my cell phone bill, I try to have a semi-civil relationship with him. He doesn't make it that easy.
My living situation isn't the greatest at the moment, and of course no one can find a damn job to save their lives right now. It's becoming a huge burden on my mother being here and I hate accepting help from people in any situation, and one where I'm affecting someone negatively just kind of blows.
On a lighter note, I've been working on a painting the past few days, one I needed to finish from Oregon, and I think I'm getting close to done with it, which is exciting. I've thought about posting ads on Craigslist trying to sell them, but I'm not sure they're good enough where people would buy them. Also, I'm not sure if I could part with them. It'd be a nice way to get some quick cash, though. And a nice way to maybe get another bus ticket.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Short Little Blurb
This is just going to be a short little thing.
There is a song that Mack once played for me on the guitar. He said it reminds him of when I was in Oregon. After hearing it, I'd have to agree...
The song is called "Are You Sad" by Our Lady Peace, and it's easily now a song I identify with and now keep close to my heart.
Here is the song on Youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPe2Xn3emcs
Here are the lyrics:
Your life has been so hard
It's dried up angels that can't keep guard
I'm trying to reach your hand
But I'm on fire
I never planned to fade... away
Stay with me
Stop pretending when they say that you're nothing
Are you sad?
Are you holding yourself?
Are you locked in your room?
You shouldn't be..
I'm drowning inside your head
Help me to answer
Help understand
Why it's been so long since we talked like friends
Please, forgive me,
I'm just a man
Whose made mistakes
Stop pretending when they say you're nothing
Are you sad?
Are you holding yourself?
Are you locked in your room?
You shouldn't be..
There is a song that Mack once played for me on the guitar. He said it reminds him of when I was in Oregon. After hearing it, I'd have to agree...
The song is called "Are You Sad" by Our Lady Peace, and it's easily now a song I identify with and now keep close to my heart.
Here is the song on Youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fPe2Xn3emcs
Here are the lyrics:
Your life has been so hard
It's dried up angels that can't keep guard
I'm trying to reach your hand
But I'm on fire
I never planned to fade... away
Stay with me
Stop pretending when they say that you're nothing
Are you sad?
Are you holding yourself?
Are you locked in your room?
You shouldn't be..
I'm drowning inside your head
Help me to answer
Help understand
Why it's been so long since we talked like friends
Please, forgive me,
I'm just a man
Whose made mistakes
Stop pretending when they say you're nothing
Are you sad?
Are you holding yourself?
Are you locked in your room?
You shouldn't be..
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Back In Minnesota...
And not thrilled about it. Illinois was very awesome, though. I had a blast. Felt more at home down there than I have in a very, very long time. The city was decent sized but it still had that smaller town feel to it. Much like Green Bay, and I looooved that town.
Since I've been back, it's been fairly stressful. Trying to find a job and deal with a retarded amount of issues being thrown my way. The only relief I seem to get is from midnight on, when I talk to one of the few people who can keep me sane. He's done it from the first time we ever spoke, and I'm incredibly thankful he is in my life.
I've been working on a fair amount of digital art, which isn't my normal medium, but I'm really enjoying it. I'm trying to think of possible career moves involving art, and then looking at schooling from there. I'm still not sure what I want to be when I grow up. I don't know if most people have that figured out at this stage in life, but I'm being indecisive. Which is getting me a whole lot of nowhere.
I've always put relationships above other things, which I don't see a problem with. I have always wanted to find love more than make a certain amount of money, or have certain things in life. I'd grown up on the bare necessities and I'm fairly comfortable continuing a life like that, as long as I had someone who loves me and makes me happy. I never really understood the people who freak out and put off relationships because they are furthering their career or whatever. I guess some people prefer to be alone, and that's fine. But I'm not wired like that at all. I don't just jump into the first bed of someone who shows interest in me, and besides the past shitty ass year, I was more often single than in a relationship.
I'm not sure where I was going with this, but it's something that's been rolling around in my mind for awhile after comments people have made about the current relationship I'm in. I know this isn't the most "orthodox" relationship. It's far from it. People are picking it apart piece by piece from the distance, to the age thing and many other factors. It's no one's life but mine, just drop it and let me have my happiness for once. After the year I've had, I think I deserve a bit of a break.
This is turning into a bit of a whine-fest, so I'm going to chill on that topic for now. I've said my piece and I feel better for it. This is why I need to keep updating this. When I was in Junior High, I had a very close friend named Casey. Casey was the shit, and I could talk to him about anything I wanted. Like many people in junior high and high school, we passed notes to one another. It got to the point where we had two notebooks going at once, I had one and he had one and we would write to each other and switch (usually a few times a day). It was like a diary of sorts, only it was being read by someone else. I still have the notebooks, and I still read them all the time. Unfortunately, I don't have the friend anymore and that friendship is something I think about on a daily basis. So this is my new notebook. This is my new diary.
I'm going to end this for the night, but that last section has me thinking about how easily the tightest bonds of friendship can fade away with time and distance. I think it's a good topic for me to write on at a later date.
Since I've been back, it's been fairly stressful. Trying to find a job and deal with a retarded amount of issues being thrown my way. The only relief I seem to get is from midnight on, when I talk to one of the few people who can keep me sane. He's done it from the first time we ever spoke, and I'm incredibly thankful he is in my life.
I've been working on a fair amount of digital art, which isn't my normal medium, but I'm really enjoying it. I'm trying to think of possible career moves involving art, and then looking at schooling from there. I'm still not sure what I want to be when I grow up. I don't know if most people have that figured out at this stage in life, but I'm being indecisive. Which is getting me a whole lot of nowhere.
I've always put relationships above other things, which I don't see a problem with. I have always wanted to find love more than make a certain amount of money, or have certain things in life. I'd grown up on the bare necessities and I'm fairly comfortable continuing a life like that, as long as I had someone who loves me and makes me happy. I never really understood the people who freak out and put off relationships because they are furthering their career or whatever. I guess some people prefer to be alone, and that's fine. But I'm not wired like that at all. I don't just jump into the first bed of someone who shows interest in me, and besides the past shitty ass year, I was more often single than in a relationship.
I'm not sure where I was going with this, but it's something that's been rolling around in my mind for awhile after comments people have made about the current relationship I'm in. I know this isn't the most "orthodox" relationship. It's far from it. People are picking it apart piece by piece from the distance, to the age thing and many other factors. It's no one's life but mine, just drop it and let me have my happiness for once. After the year I've had, I think I deserve a bit of a break.
This is turning into a bit of a whine-fest, so I'm going to chill on that topic for now. I've said my piece and I feel better for it. This is why I need to keep updating this. When I was in Junior High, I had a very close friend named Casey. Casey was the shit, and I could talk to him about anything I wanted. Like many people in junior high and high school, we passed notes to one another. It got to the point where we had two notebooks going at once, I had one and he had one and we would write to each other and switch (usually a few times a day). It was like a diary of sorts, only it was being read by someone else. I still have the notebooks, and I still read them all the time. Unfortunately, I don't have the friend anymore and that friendship is something I think about on a daily basis. So this is my new notebook. This is my new diary.
I'm going to end this for the night, but that last section has me thinking about how easily the tightest bonds of friendship can fade away with time and distance. I think it's a good topic for me to write on at a later date.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
I'm so bad at this!!
I'm sorry, I'm so awful at updating.
Getting pretty excited, leaving on Thursday. Ten hour ride, switch buses and then another four-ish hour ride. Kind of sad that the places I want to get pictures of, I'll be coming in when it's dark but maybe on the return trip? It's not like this is going to be the only time I'll be going there anyway :). Need to start packing tonight; doing laundry ect. but I just can't get motivated.
Maybe do another post tonight, getting interrupted with drama. Ugh.
Getting pretty excited, leaving on Thursday. Ten hour ride, switch buses and then another four-ish hour ride. Kind of sad that the places I want to get pictures of, I'll be coming in when it's dark but maybe on the return trip? It's not like this is going to be the only time I'll be going there anyway :). Need to start packing tonight; doing laundry ect. but I just can't get motivated.
Maybe do another post tonight, getting interrupted with drama. Ugh.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Need to stop neglecting this thing. Sorry!
I feel like I've been running around like crazy since I've been home. It hasn't been that hectic, but it feels like it and I can definitely tell that I'm still recovering. This next week is going to be even busier because I've got a few days with my sister before she pops out Baby and then I'm kidnapping a girliefriend and going to get her wasted.
Today started out pretty decent. Finally got to see Brother #2. Apologized for taking off to Wisconsin/Oregon when he finally decided I was cool enough to hang out with. Ate a pretty sweet Mother's Day Brunch with him, his girlfriend, her mom and grandmother and my mom. It was nice and relaxing and then we chatted and watched the Twins game. Also, his girlfriend's mom works with an ex boyfriend's mom. Small fucking world.
Dealt with some on-line retarded drama later on and ended up having to get away from the computer for a while. Helped my mom plant tomatoes and was feeling better. Then I bought a bus ticket and now I'm feeling way better.
I'm so stoked for the end of May :)
I've also had "Welcome to Youtube" and another song called "Activate" stuck in my head all day. It's weird hearing the mashup of the two in my head.
Today started out pretty decent. Finally got to see Brother #2. Apologized for taking off to Wisconsin/Oregon when he finally decided I was cool enough to hang out with. Ate a pretty sweet Mother's Day Brunch with him, his girlfriend, her mom and grandmother and my mom. It was nice and relaxing and then we chatted and watched the Twins game. Also, his girlfriend's mom works with an ex boyfriend's mom. Small fucking world.
Dealt with some on-line retarded drama later on and ended up having to get away from the computer for a while. Helped my mom plant tomatoes and was feeling better. Then I bought a bus ticket and now I'm feeling way better.
I'm so stoked for the end of May :)
I've also had "Welcome to Youtube" and another song called "Activate" stuck in my head all day. It's weird hearing the mashup of the two in my head.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
How Awesome Is This?
Testing 1 2 checking the mic.
I can totally send a text to my blog now.
I also changed the font for the site.
I can totally send a text to my blog now.
I also changed the font for the site.
Getting Ready
Actually, I'm totally sitting on my ass and procrastinating. I should be packing. My bed is covered with everything from a coffee maker and pans, to clothes and books. But I've been playing fucking Mafia Wars and texting people. Ugh.
Back to Minnesota, finally. I'm so excited to be home and closer to people who love and actually treat me like a human. Getting out and having a social life is what I need right now. Hopefully visiting some good friends in the near future, and that's going to be awesome. I leave tomorrow morning at 5 and I'll be landing in Minneapolis around 1:45. I can't wait to get back!
I'm going to be AWOL for awhile. I'll write things in Word and then post them when I have access to the internet. I'm not going to be getting internet myself for about a month I'm guessing. It sucks. I'm going to be out of communication with a large group of people who I've grown to really kind of like. Not to mention missing out on all the sites I check daily. Man, the internet is a wonderful tool.
Anyway, I just wanted to get one last post up letting you know that I'm not going to be around. Thanks for all the support and for listening to my vent-sessions. It hasn't gone unnoticed. I'll be back someday soon.
~Emily
Back to Minnesota, finally. I'm so excited to be home and closer to people who love and actually treat me like a human. Getting out and having a social life is what I need right now. Hopefully visiting some good friends in the near future, and that's going to be awesome. I leave tomorrow morning at 5 and I'll be landing in Minneapolis around 1:45. I can't wait to get back!
I'm going to be AWOL for awhile. I'll write things in Word and then post them when I have access to the internet. I'm not going to be getting internet myself for about a month I'm guessing. It sucks. I'm going to be out of communication with a large group of people who I've grown to really kind of like. Not to mention missing out on all the sites I check daily. Man, the internet is a wonderful tool.
Anyway, I just wanted to get one last post up letting you know that I'm not going to be around. Thanks for all the support and for listening to my vent-sessions. It hasn't gone unnoticed. I'll be back someday soon.
~Emily
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Almost.
I'm getting very close to getting out of here and I couldn't be happier. I had a great night last night with a very good friend and I woke up completely refreshed and more relaxed then I have been in months. I'm looking forward to more nights and days feeling that way and less of the drama filled life I'm in now. I've always preferred the company of guys rather than girls because I've always found it to be less drama. This relationship has proved that there is always an exception to any rule.
As a completely unrelated note: I am watching two guys playing guitar while a third is in the background playing a not plugged in Guitar Hero controller. It is the second best thing I've seen all day.
This was the best. Thanks Wong.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZ5qlIP0aRo
As a completely unrelated note: I am watching two guys playing guitar while a third is in the background playing a not plugged in Guitar Hero controller. It is the second best thing I've seen all day.
This was the best. Thanks Wong.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZ5qlIP0aRo
Friday, April 24, 2009
Ahhh...procrastination!
I have been doing it a ton lately, but have still managed to pack up 90% of my things. All that's left now is clothes, bedding and pans. I can't wait until I'm out of here (May 3rd) and it seems like that Sunday can't come soon enough! Recovering well, still some headaches but nothing too awful. I've only had one migraine since the surgery which is a pretty good sign, I think. It came on early evening and when I woke up the next day it was gone. I'm going to be internetless for awhile when I first get back. Looking into putting the cable bill into my name and getting that sweet 3 services for 99 bucks deal that every fucking cable company offers.
Other than that nothing super huge is going on right now. I'm pretty content with the way things are going. Even looking forward to living with my mom for awhile. I've really missed her. I realized when I was sick that something like that could have just as easily happened to one of them and I would be too far away to help them with anything. It's broken my heart to be so far away from everyone in the world that loves me and I don't intend on being that far away anytime soon.
I know that me moving out to Oregon hurt a lot of people and I plan on making up for it. Me moving back home, however is also hurting someone and as much as I hate hurting people-it's something that needed to be done. When he woke up and decided he was losing me, it was already too late. I'm still not convinced that he's changed, either. More and more I see the old him coming back out and I know if I stayed, it would be back to "normal" in no time. Then another six months go by and I'd be in a worse state of mind. Not to mention the fact that John's made it very clear that if we stayed together, I'd have to cut all ties with a few close friends. I'm not doing that again. I've lost friends that way before and fuck if it's going to happen again.
This is taking a more serious turn than I intended. I'm really excited and happy to be going home. I'm looking forward to camping and the State Fair and generally having a life again. This summer is going to kick ass, I just know it. I have a year + to make up to my family and friends and I'm not going to waste it.
I feel like I'm getting a fresh start. Something new and familiar at the same time. It sounds strange but I'm just glad I made it out of the hospital alive and better and that's changed my out look on so many things because I just as easily could not have.
Other than that nothing super huge is going on right now. I'm pretty content with the way things are going. Even looking forward to living with my mom for awhile. I've really missed her. I realized when I was sick that something like that could have just as easily happened to one of them and I would be too far away to help them with anything. It's broken my heart to be so far away from everyone in the world that loves me and I don't intend on being that far away anytime soon.
I know that me moving out to Oregon hurt a lot of people and I plan on making up for it. Me moving back home, however is also hurting someone and as much as I hate hurting people-it's something that needed to be done. When he woke up and decided he was losing me, it was already too late. I'm still not convinced that he's changed, either. More and more I see the old him coming back out and I know if I stayed, it would be back to "normal" in no time. Then another six months go by and I'd be in a worse state of mind. Not to mention the fact that John's made it very clear that if we stayed together, I'd have to cut all ties with a few close friends. I'm not doing that again. I've lost friends that way before and fuck if it's going to happen again.
This is taking a more serious turn than I intended. I'm really excited and happy to be going home. I'm looking forward to camping and the State Fair and generally having a life again. This summer is going to kick ass, I just know it. I have a year + to make up to my family and friends and I'm not going to waste it.
I feel like I'm getting a fresh start. Something new and familiar at the same time. It sounds strange but I'm just glad I made it out of the hospital alive and better and that's changed my out look on so many things because I just as easily could not have.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Happy Spring
I've been working on a painting for the past few days and haven't really felt much like writing, but if I'm going to keep this updated regularly, I'm going to have to suck it up. It reminds me of when I used to try and keep a diary when I was younger. I'd write in it every day for about a week and a half and then totally forget about it. I really do want to keep this updated; I think it's a great therapy tool for me and it will be interesting to look at it years from now.
Things between John and I are getting awkward as hell. He still wants to be together which hasn't been an option for months. He keeps trying to be physical with me and I hate it. It's not going to make it easier for him when I leave and I keep trying to explain that to him. He alternates between trying to show me affection and making me feel like shit. Today he badgered me for a good twenty minutes on why I didn't want to go to his mother's for Easter Dinner. I told him a few days ago I didn't want to go. They think I'm using him and although they aren't the type of people to bring it up with me around, I just don't feel right being with people who feel that way about me. He kept accusing me of staying home because I had other "Plans". Like I'm going to invite some dude over to fuck while he's out. Because what I need right now is another dude in my life. Yup I need that like I need a swift kick to the face.
Ok I've had this open in a tab for about five hours now. I'm just going to publish this part and write a bit more tomorrow.
Things between John and I are getting awkward as hell. He still wants to be together which hasn't been an option for months. He keeps trying to be physical with me and I hate it. It's not going to make it easier for him when I leave and I keep trying to explain that to him. He alternates between trying to show me affection and making me feel like shit. Today he badgered me for a good twenty minutes on why I didn't want to go to his mother's for Easter Dinner. I told him a few days ago I didn't want to go. They think I'm using him and although they aren't the type of people to bring it up with me around, I just don't feel right being with people who feel that way about me. He kept accusing me of staying home because I had other "Plans". Like I'm going to invite some dude over to fuck while he's out. Because what I need right now is another dude in my life. Yup I need that like I need a swift kick to the face.
Ok I've had this open in a tab for about five hours now. I'm just going to publish this part and write a bit more tomorrow.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Greetings!
I know it's been forever and I'm kicking myself in the ass for not writing sooner. Tomorrow will be a full run down of the past few weeks, I promise. Just a few points real fast.
Surgery went well. I was in the ICU most of my hospital stay, but that was only because I still had my spinal drain in and I couldn't move or anything with that in. I was in the hospital for six days. I feel AMAZING. After being so sick for so long it was such a shock how fast I seemed to be healing.
There was a complication; it was a risk I knew about going in. I have something called Diabetes Insipidus. Wiki link-http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diabetes_insipidus
I pee every fifteen - thirty minutes and drink 1-2 liters of water every hour. It's frustrating and I'll have it for the rest of my life, but it's something I can deal with.
My mom was out here for awhile after I got out of the hospital, which was awesome because I didn't really have much pain so we got to get out and explore. I saw more of Oregon/California in the 10 days she was here then I did the whole year I lived here. We went to a few historical cities around here, and drove through the Redwood Forest to Crescent City, CA which was fucking beautiful. She was also here during her birthday so I burned her 20 or so CD's of music she's been trying to find for years. It was cute seeing her marvel at the technology. Since she left, I've been reading a ton and working on a painting the past few nights.
I'll post more details of everything tomorrow. Bed time for me. Sleep Well and have an awesome Easter or regular Sunday, everyone.
~Emily
Surgery went well. I was in the ICU most of my hospital stay, but that was only because I still had my spinal drain in and I couldn't move or anything with that in. I was in the hospital for six days. I feel AMAZING. After being so sick for so long it was such a shock how fast I seemed to be healing.
There was a complication; it was a risk I knew about going in. I have something called Diabetes Insipidus. Wiki link-http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diabetes_insipidus
I pee every fifteen - thirty minutes and drink 1-2 liters of water every hour. It's frustrating and I'll have it for the rest of my life, but it's something I can deal with.
My mom was out here for awhile after I got out of the hospital, which was awesome because I didn't really have much pain so we got to get out and explore. I saw more of Oregon/California in the 10 days she was here then I did the whole year I lived here. We went to a few historical cities around here, and drove through the Redwood Forest to Crescent City, CA which was fucking beautiful. She was also here during her birthday so I burned her 20 or so CD's of music she's been trying to find for years. It was cute seeing her marvel at the technology. Since she left, I've been reading a ton and working on a painting the past few nights.
I'll post more details of everything tomorrow. Bed time for me. Sleep Well and have an awesome Easter or regular Sunday, everyone.
~Emily
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Oh goody!
Well, it's almost that time, but first-
The trip to California was awesome. The drive wasn't so bad after we made it through the mountains. I hate driving on the side of a cliff. The whole time I had my camera and my dad's and I was taking pictures with both, pretty much just aiming the thing at the window and pressing a button with out looking. We didn't really have a set destination, but we had discussed San Fransisco and that's where we ended up. We stayed in Vallejo for two nights. Took a day trip into San Fransisco and first off, toll booths can suck a dong.
My aunt Sandy had run away from Minnesota when she was in her mid-teens. She ended up in San Fransisco during the "Summer of Love". We went to Golden Gate Park where she and her friends had spent time doing all sorts of illegal activities. We also saw the place she lived in, just down the block from "Haight and Ashbury". That general feeling of being free and a sense of a community within a community is still alive. There's still many people down there doing the same thing that was done 40 years ago. It's quite a beautiful part of the city, really.
We did some normal tourist-y things, too. We drove around for awhile, relying on my dad's nifty GPS system to get us around. We spent the rest of the day at Fisherman's Wharf and took a boat tour around the bay. It went under the Golden Gate Bridge and around Alcatraz which was way sweet. We didn't actually go on the island; all the tours were booked up. Took some awesome pictures and finally got to see the ocean for the first time.
When we left SF, we drove to Santa Cruz. It was a pretty drive, but I admit, I was getting crabby and just wanted to get into a hot shower and go to bed. Drove back to Vallejo and ended up doing just that.
We left the next morning to drive back to Medford. We stopped at a casino but they were lame and you had to be 21 to gamble. My dad won a hundred bucks, though so it was not a wasted detour. The drive back was calm; California was sunny and I didn't want to leave.
The past few days I've just been relaxing. Hanging out in town for a few hours with my dad. It's been pretty cool having him here, we haven't just hung out in years.
Right now, it's about 4 hours away from when we have to leave to go to the hospital. I still need to pack a bag and shower with their special soap. I'm getting pretty nervous. I had to stop eating and drinking at midnight, and although I was hungry, I wasn't at the same time. I forced myself to eat, sat down and started writing this, got about three words down and promptly threw up. I get a bit more freaked out by the minute, but I've been proud at the way I've been keeping it at bay for the past few days. I've had a ton of destractions which has obviously helped.
I've also had a lot of support from many surprising places. My family have been there from the start. I haven't had too many friends the past year or so, but the ones that have stuck have been amazing. I've also made a few really awesome friends since this has started. They know who they are and they have been absolutly wonderful. Everyone at Cracked/PWoT has been amazing. They sure are a bunch of dicks, but when it really matters, they're always around.
Anywho- Once I get to the hospital, I get to dick around for awhile, probably signing a bunch of paperwork and then getting all doped up. Hopefully in that order. Once surgery goes down, as soon as I'm lucid enough I'll be texting a good pal on PWoT to have him post in the thread I have there. I won't be able to update this for a few days, most likely. The headache I'm supposed to have for the next few weeks will make it difficult for me to concentrate on anything so the next post will probably consist of a face mash on the keyboad and telling my mom to hit the post button. I supposidly will have dranage packs up my nose, facial swelling and matching black eyes so there's always that to look forward to.
Once again, thanks for reading, all your well wishes and keeping me in your thoughts. It's greatly appreciated.
Cheers, mates!
~Emily
The trip to California was awesome. The drive wasn't so bad after we made it through the mountains. I hate driving on the side of a cliff. The whole time I had my camera and my dad's and I was taking pictures with both, pretty much just aiming the thing at the window and pressing a button with out looking. We didn't really have a set destination, but we had discussed San Fransisco and that's where we ended up. We stayed in Vallejo for two nights. Took a day trip into San Fransisco and first off, toll booths can suck a dong.
My aunt Sandy had run away from Minnesota when she was in her mid-teens. She ended up in San Fransisco during the "Summer of Love". We went to Golden Gate Park where she and her friends had spent time doing all sorts of illegal activities. We also saw the place she lived in, just down the block from "Haight and Ashbury". That general feeling of being free and a sense of a community within a community is still alive. There's still many people down there doing the same thing that was done 40 years ago. It's quite a beautiful part of the city, really.
We did some normal tourist-y things, too. We drove around for awhile, relying on my dad's nifty GPS system to get us around. We spent the rest of the day at Fisherman's Wharf and took a boat tour around the bay. It went under the Golden Gate Bridge and around Alcatraz which was way sweet. We didn't actually go on the island; all the tours were booked up. Took some awesome pictures and finally got to see the ocean for the first time.
When we left SF, we drove to Santa Cruz. It was a pretty drive, but I admit, I was getting crabby and just wanted to get into a hot shower and go to bed. Drove back to Vallejo and ended up doing just that.
We left the next morning to drive back to Medford. We stopped at a casino but they were lame and you had to be 21 to gamble. My dad won a hundred bucks, though so it was not a wasted detour. The drive back was calm; California was sunny and I didn't want to leave.
The past few days I've just been relaxing. Hanging out in town for a few hours with my dad. It's been pretty cool having him here, we haven't just hung out in years.
Right now, it's about 4 hours away from when we have to leave to go to the hospital. I still need to pack a bag and shower with their special soap. I'm getting pretty nervous. I had to stop eating and drinking at midnight, and although I was hungry, I wasn't at the same time. I forced myself to eat, sat down and started writing this, got about three words down and promptly threw up. I get a bit more freaked out by the minute, but I've been proud at the way I've been keeping it at bay for the past few days. I've had a ton of destractions which has obviously helped.
I've also had a lot of support from many surprising places. My family have been there from the start. I haven't had too many friends the past year or so, but the ones that have stuck have been amazing. I've also made a few really awesome friends since this has started. They know who they are and they have been absolutly wonderful. Everyone at Cracked/PWoT has been amazing. They sure are a bunch of dicks, but when it really matters, they're always around.
Anywho- Once I get to the hospital, I get to dick around for awhile, probably signing a bunch of paperwork and then getting all doped up. Hopefully in that order. Once surgery goes down, as soon as I'm lucid enough I'll be texting a good pal on PWoT to have him post in the thread I have there. I won't be able to update this for a few days, most likely. The headache I'm supposed to have for the next few weeks will make it difficult for me to concentrate on anything so the next post will probably consist of a face mash on the keyboad and telling my mom to hit the post button. I supposidly will have dranage packs up my nose, facial swelling and matching black eyes so there's always that to look forward to.
Once again, thanks for reading, all your well wishes and keeping me in your thoughts. It's greatly appreciated.
Cheers, mates!
~Emily
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Karaoke, St Patricks Day, Teeth Cleaning and Things Shoved Up My Nose.
Happy Saint Patrick's Day! (For another few hours on the west coast, anyway.)
I spent most of the day running around the town. I had an appointment with the ENT dude who shoved a microscope up my nose. It was pretty swell. I also had a dentist appointment. Yay getting your teeth cleaned!
I'm going to be in California for the next few days. I'm bringing my laptop with but I'm not sure if I'll get the chance to get online.
Also, there's a thread over at PWOT/Cracked where we sing.
http://www.cracked.com/forums/index.php?topic=45273.0#msg1108313
It's called PWOT Karaoke, and I did the song 'Kiss' by Prince. It's pretty amusing, you guys should check it out and submit your own.
Have a good week everyone.
I spent most of the day running around the town. I had an appointment with the ENT dude who shoved a microscope up my nose. It was pretty swell. I also had a dentist appointment. Yay getting your teeth cleaned!
I'm going to be in California for the next few days. I'm bringing my laptop with but I'm not sure if I'll get the chance to get online.
Also, there's a thread over at PWOT/Cracked where we sing.
http://www.cracked.com/forums/index.php?topic=45273.0#msg1108313
It's called PWOT Karaoke, and I did the song 'Kiss' by Prince. It's pretty amusing, you guys should check it out and submit your own.
Have a good week everyone.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
In which I berate myself for being stupid. Pay No Attention.
Because I'm treating this as my diary of sorts I'm just going to take this time to beat myself up. Here goes!
Dear me,
Knock it off, you have enough drama in your life already with out thinking about this. Seriously. Enjoy the time you have with this and do not worry about anything beyond it. What ever happens after this moment, this was still a good point in your life. This made you smile when you were sad and happy always. This was meant to be in your life for a reason whatever that reason is, time will tell. This introduced many things into your life that weren't there and you should be thankful. Really, stop being so dumb about it.
Love,
You
Dear You,
I am thankful for this. It still sucks, though.
Love,
Me
I don't have mental problems.
Dear me,
Knock it off, you have enough drama in your life already with out thinking about this. Seriously. Enjoy the time you have with this and do not worry about anything beyond it. What ever happens after this moment, this was still a good point in your life. This made you smile when you were sad and happy always. This was meant to be in your life for a reason whatever that reason is, time will tell. This introduced many things into your life that weren't there and you should be thankful. Really, stop being so dumb about it.
Love,
You
Dear You,
I am thankful for this. It still sucks, though.
Love,
Me
I don't have mental problems.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Hey Guys!
I'm sorry I haven't updated in forever. My life has taken some pretty serious turns and I've been trying to deal with them all.
The relationship I've been in for the past year has been slowly going downhill for sometime. It took a smack in the face from a few close friends for me to realize it and once I did, I had to make a decision on if I wanted to continue down the path I was on. Over the course of the past two months, I've gradually come to the conclusion that I didn't want to be with the person I was with and that I need to be on my own for awhile to do some soul searching.
The breakup has been rough on both John and I and it's been worse because until I have my surgery (which was pushed to March 25) I have to stay out here with him. It's been awkward and frustrating. On top of all that, I'm pretty much incapable of doing anything at this point so John has been cooking, cleaning and driving me places. I feel helpless and useless and I hate it.
Moving on, I've gotten a bit of feed back about the first post of this blog. Some say it's too long and kind of depressing. After this post, I will try to keep the length down but I would really like to get the story out of what has transpired the past six months and then update it every few days. As for the depressing part, it has been amazingly depressing to go through. I've tried to liven it up as best I could but all the jokes fall flat with the seriousness of the situation. I don't want to turn this into a blog about brain tumors because I hope to continue this after surgery and recovery as it has been a good source of therapy for me.
(Part Two)
Later that week I did receive a call from the Neurologist that would be handling my case. The office that he works for is the only place in town that handles brain and spinal injuries. They were booked for about a month out so I made an appointment for the earliest time I could and waited.
It was right before Thanksgiving when I had my initial appointment with my doctor. John and I went in, and waited to be called. Once I was called I went through the normal doctor visit routine; blood pressure, heart rate, height, weight ect. The doctor came in a did some quick tests on dexterity, movement and coordination. Then we went back into his office and for the first time I got to see the MRI scan.
The tumor itself was a bright white spot in the middle of my brain. If you take a human head and cross section it the pituitary gland is located pretty much directly behind the eyes and right above your ears. http://georgiahealthinfo.gov/cms/files/global/images/image_popup/ww5rn89.jpg
My tumor is pressing against the gland, creating all sorts of havoc for the hormones the gland normally creates. I've become increasingly weak, tired, depressed/anxious, my weight keeps going up and down by fifteen or twenty pounds, I haven't gotten my womanly gift since August and I can't eat for days at a time because I am so nauseous.
The doctor told me he wanted me to get some blood work done to see what it was doing with my hormones and get my vision tested to make sure the tumor wasn't pressing on my optic nerves and deteriorating my eyesight. He discussed various methods of treatment and also what could happen if I left it untreated.
When we left the office, I was told the two places I needed to go for these test would be contacting me shortly to make appointments. I pretty numb from all the information I had received in such a short amount of time on the ride home. I had planned on canceling my trip back home to Minnesota on account of all the tests I'd need to have done and the urgency it seemed they needed to be done.
Thanksgiving came and went. I spent it with John's family and greatly missing my own. I had yet to hear from the doctors with the two offices I needed appointments for. I called my own Neurologist's office almost every day to see what was taking so long. They were waiting for the case to be dictated and made into a report that could be sent to those offices.
John and I bought a mobile home in late November. It was exciting that we were moving into our own place and we bought it for fairly cheap. I had also decided "Fuck the doctors dragging their asses, I'm going back to Minnesota." and so the first week of December, I did just that.
Early Christmas with my family was just what I needed to get my mind off of what was going on back in Oregon. I spent time with my family, did some shopping and a ton of reading. I didn't want to leave, but I had to go back to Oregon.
Once I was back, I finally got the appointments made. We began packing up our apartment in small steps and I began painting our kitchen in our new trailer. We didn't move until the last week in December and had left our cleaning up of the apartment until New Year's Eve. Things were going decently enough though they were not moving as fast as I would have liked. I thought the stress and anxiety I was feeling had to do with moving and the body pains I was beginning to notice had to do with the actual move itself.
During January I had started to feel more weak and tired than I had been, my appetite changed and I struggled to go to work. I eventually lost my job due to me getting so sick, I didn't feel comfortable driving a car, afraid I was going to pass out at any time behind the wheel.
I had my vision checked and nothing had changed with that. I also had enough blood drawn to feed a vampire army and I had to pee in a giant jug for 24 hours straight so they could monitor some hormone levels in that. I had to keep it in my fridge. Once the test results came back for those tests, they were sent to my Neurologist and I met with him once more.
He explained that with the nature of my tumor, we could wait and see or I would undergo surgery. With "wait and see" method, I would go through the same hormone tests and get an MRI done every two months. Not comfortable with that option, I said I would do surgery. I was in turn informed of the risks and told that once surgery was over, it still might not fix any of what I was going through. I could die, stroke and not return to my normal self, but on the flip side-this might just fix me. He informed me what the surgery would entail and tat he would be doing it, along with an Ear, Nose and Throat doctor in town which he wanted me to see.
Later that week, my surgery was set for February 18th. I had an appointment with the ENT doctor and things finally seemed like they were moving along. The days were moving along quite fast now. I had to go sign paperwork in the hospital, underwent more blood work, and given a special soap to shower with before my operation.
I got a call the Sunday before my Wednesday operation saying the ENT doctor had fallen ill and they had to reschedule my surgery. I was crushed. All this waiting I thought it was almost over. I had to fight with the airlines to change my mother's plane tickets as she was coming out to take care of me after the surgery.
That pretty much brings us up to now. Surgery is set for March 25th, plane tickets have been changed and once I am ok to fly, I'm blowing this popsicle stand. My dad is also taking his first vacation in years to fly out here next week and hang out with me. We're going to drive to California, I told him I didn't want to come back until I had sun burn. I've been dealing with a ton of passive/aggressiveness with John, but now that we have called it quits with our relationship, a bit of that tension is gone. I'm looking forward to being back in Minnesota with people I love.
I've made some pretty sweet friends through this whole ordeal. They've been there when I've cried and cheered me up when I wasn't feeling my best. You know who you are, and I love you dearly and thank you from the bottom of my heart. I wouldn't have made it with out you.
The relationship I've been in for the past year has been slowly going downhill for sometime. It took a smack in the face from a few close friends for me to realize it and once I did, I had to make a decision on if I wanted to continue down the path I was on. Over the course of the past two months, I've gradually come to the conclusion that I didn't want to be with the person I was with and that I need to be on my own for awhile to do some soul searching.
The breakup has been rough on both John and I and it's been worse because until I have my surgery (which was pushed to March 25) I have to stay out here with him. It's been awkward and frustrating. On top of all that, I'm pretty much incapable of doing anything at this point so John has been cooking, cleaning and driving me places. I feel helpless and useless and I hate it.
Moving on, I've gotten a bit of feed back about the first post of this blog. Some say it's too long and kind of depressing. After this post, I will try to keep the length down but I would really like to get the story out of what has transpired the past six months and then update it every few days. As for the depressing part, it has been amazingly depressing to go through. I've tried to liven it up as best I could but all the jokes fall flat with the seriousness of the situation. I don't want to turn this into a blog about brain tumors because I hope to continue this after surgery and recovery as it has been a good source of therapy for me.
(Part Two)
Later that week I did receive a call from the Neurologist that would be handling my case. The office that he works for is the only place in town that handles brain and spinal injuries. They were booked for about a month out so I made an appointment for the earliest time I could and waited.
It was right before Thanksgiving when I had my initial appointment with my doctor. John and I went in, and waited to be called. Once I was called I went through the normal doctor visit routine; blood pressure, heart rate, height, weight ect. The doctor came in a did some quick tests on dexterity, movement and coordination. Then we went back into his office and for the first time I got to see the MRI scan.
The tumor itself was a bright white spot in the middle of my brain. If you take a human head and cross section it the pituitary gland is located pretty much directly behind the eyes and right above your ears. http://georgiahealthinfo.gov/cms/files/global/images/image_popup/ww5rn89.jpg
My tumor is pressing against the gland, creating all sorts of havoc for the hormones the gland normally creates. I've become increasingly weak, tired, depressed/anxious, my weight keeps going up and down by fifteen or twenty pounds, I haven't gotten my womanly gift since August and I can't eat for days at a time because I am so nauseous.
The doctor told me he wanted me to get some blood work done to see what it was doing with my hormones and get my vision tested to make sure the tumor wasn't pressing on my optic nerves and deteriorating my eyesight. He discussed various methods of treatment and also what could happen if I left it untreated.
When we left the office, I was told the two places I needed to go for these test would be contacting me shortly to make appointments. I pretty numb from all the information I had received in such a short amount of time on the ride home. I had planned on canceling my trip back home to Minnesota on account of all the tests I'd need to have done and the urgency it seemed they needed to be done.
Thanksgiving came and went. I spent it with John's family and greatly missing my own. I had yet to hear from the doctors with the two offices I needed appointments for. I called my own Neurologist's office almost every day to see what was taking so long. They were waiting for the case to be dictated and made into a report that could be sent to those offices.
John and I bought a mobile home in late November. It was exciting that we were moving into our own place and we bought it for fairly cheap. I had also decided "Fuck the doctors dragging their asses, I'm going back to Minnesota." and so the first week of December, I did just that.
Early Christmas with my family was just what I needed to get my mind off of what was going on back in Oregon. I spent time with my family, did some shopping and a ton of reading. I didn't want to leave, but I had to go back to Oregon.
Once I was back, I finally got the appointments made. We began packing up our apartment in small steps and I began painting our kitchen in our new trailer. We didn't move until the last week in December and had left our cleaning up of the apartment until New Year's Eve. Things were going decently enough though they were not moving as fast as I would have liked. I thought the stress and anxiety I was feeling had to do with moving and the body pains I was beginning to notice had to do with the actual move itself.
During January I had started to feel more weak and tired than I had been, my appetite changed and I struggled to go to work. I eventually lost my job due to me getting so sick, I didn't feel comfortable driving a car, afraid I was going to pass out at any time behind the wheel.
I had my vision checked and nothing had changed with that. I also had enough blood drawn to feed a vampire army and I had to pee in a giant jug for 24 hours straight so they could monitor some hormone levels in that. I had to keep it in my fridge. Once the test results came back for those tests, they were sent to my Neurologist and I met with him once more.
He explained that with the nature of my tumor, we could wait and see or I would undergo surgery. With "wait and see" method, I would go through the same hormone tests and get an MRI done every two months. Not comfortable with that option, I said I would do surgery. I was in turn informed of the risks and told that once surgery was over, it still might not fix any of what I was going through. I could die, stroke and not return to my normal self, but on the flip side-this might just fix me. He informed me what the surgery would entail and tat he would be doing it, along with an Ear, Nose and Throat doctor in town which he wanted me to see.
Later that week, my surgery was set for February 18th. I had an appointment with the ENT doctor and things finally seemed like they were moving along. The days were moving along quite fast now. I had to go sign paperwork in the hospital, underwent more blood work, and given a special soap to shower with before my operation.
I got a call the Sunday before my Wednesday operation saying the ENT doctor had fallen ill and they had to reschedule my surgery. I was crushed. All this waiting I thought it was almost over. I had to fight with the airlines to change my mother's plane tickets as she was coming out to take care of me after the surgery.
That pretty much brings us up to now. Surgery is set for March 25th, plane tickets have been changed and once I am ok to fly, I'm blowing this popsicle stand. My dad is also taking his first vacation in years to fly out here next week and hang out with me. We're going to drive to California, I told him I didn't want to come back until I had sun burn. I've been dealing with a ton of passive/aggressiveness with John, but now that we have called it quits with our relationship, a bit of that tension is gone. I'm looking forward to being back in Minnesota with people I love.
I've made some pretty sweet friends through this whole ordeal. They've been there when I've cried and cheered me up when I wasn't feeling my best. You know who you are, and I love you dearly and thank you from the bottom of my heart. I wouldn't have made it with out you.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
It's not a tumor!
Oh wait, yes it is! (Part 1)
A few months have passed since I've found out about this thing growing in my head and with up coming surgery I've decided to write down everything that's happened leading to this point. There is a thread on the PWOT forums that I've been updating, but it started off with me asking for advice because I thought I was pregnant. I've gotten countless replies and Personal Messages with feedback and support that's helped me more than anyone can know. I just want everyone to know how much I appreciate that. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
I've had awful migraines since I was around 14 years old. Last summer they started getting worse and worse until I was having them every day. To anyone who's had any form of migraine, you know how awful they feel and how much pain they cause. All the doctors I saw, every time I was in the emergency room always told me I wasn't drinking enough water, I was drinking too much caffeine, I was eating certain foods that triggered them, I was sleeping too much or not enough. They would give me something for the pain or something that would make me sleep. One doctor gave me ice cold IV fluids for hours while I was crying in pain until when that didn't work, she relented and gave me something for the pain. I ran into her a few months later at a clinic and was promptly treated as some opiate seeking junkie.
The run around treatment was getting me nowhere. I was given countless pills to help "prevent" migraines but nothing for the pain once they started. I was in the emergency room almost every week, crying and puking, just wanting to die. They had me on heart medication, anti seizure medication, anti depressants all to try and prevent these mind crippling headaches. Nothing helped. I hated the looks at the hospital; they thought I was a junkie trying to get a fix. They would pull out John from the room and ask him if I was trying to get pain meds. They would tell me that this wasn't normal, then give me a shot in the ass and make me leave. They stopped giving me Morphine and started giving me shots of Benedryl to knock me out and Phenergin to keep me from puking from the pain. It got to the point where I stopped going in because the treatment wasn't working and they would promptly tell me to leave even if I was still in pain.
A few months passed and I was able to get insurance through something called "Six Month Domestic Partnership" pledge. I set up an appointment with a doctor in the hospital group I was in. I told her my symptoms, how often I get headaches and all the medication I had been on and that nothing had helped. She examined me, listened to me and scheduled me an MRI for later that week. It finally seemed as if someone was listening, not just fiddling with my prescriptions and ushering me out of their office as fast as possible.
I want to stop right here and say something. It may seem as I'm coming off hard on medical professionals. I know how hard they work, starting from before Med school and continuing throughout their entire lives. I'm not trying to belittle that in anyway. A hand full of doctors have helped me through this in ways that go above and beyond. More than a hand full did not and it's something that will stay with me for a long time because of the way I was treated. I'm not saying that it's not possible for people to make mistakes. But I was seeing the same doctors for months and not one thought to look beyond the young woman who dressed kind of weird and always seemed to be wearing slippers (shut up) and take a look at what was causing this pain. The woman who pumped me full of IV fluids and told me when I left to "Drink some vitamin water" treated me at a low income clinic a few months after our run in at the hospital and upon walking in the room stated "We don't carry opiates in the clinic." She didn't even prescribe me anything stronger than an Advil and told me to "Go home and try to sleep." It's experiences like those that left me feeling jaded with the health care system.
Before I had my MRI, I had an unexpected event occur. I was over a month late getting my monthly friend and was sure I was pregnant. I had many symptoms and was extremely happy with this news. I had a home test come back positive. John had never wanted kids, but relented to the idea seeing how fucking exuberant I was. Then I had three pregnancy tests done from different doctors and got the news that I was not, in fact pregnant. Each time that news hit me I didn't want to believe it. I was (at that point) three months late. I had foolishly stared telling family and friends that I was pregnant and then I had to tell them that I wasn't. I stayed home the day of the last test and cried. I made the mistake of watching Juno for the first time and cried even more. I fell asleep on the couch sometime that day with the Kittymonster as my comfort.
That week was my MRI. John and I had started looking at mobile homes and had put in an offer for one we found through work. He dropped me off at the hospital and went to drop off the application for the park we were trying to move into. I filled out some paperwork and waited for them to call me in. A tech came out and explained what they were doing and asked if I had a music preferance. They gave me headphones while I was in the machine. MRI's look much bigger on TV then they really are. When you lay down you are slid in to a round hollow cylender. Your shoulders touch both sides and the top is about five inches away from your face. The MRI scan, depending on what they're looking for takes about 40 minutes. If you move, they pretty much have to start all over again. It's really fucking loud and just plain not pleasant. When I looked straight up, I saw what looked like flecks of dried blood. About half way through, they injected me with a contrast dye. It was nice for a break, but they didn't pull me all the way out. Just enough to get at my arms. I have a problem with people finding my veins. It runs in the family and it's a pain in the ass. Most people drawing blood stab one arm ten times, then move to the other and repeat. I always tell anyone doing blood work to just go for the one in my hand. Most take it as a challenge or something and I sit there and get poked (bladow!) for about ten minutes before they relent. It's exactly what happened this time, only I couldn't move or bend my neck to see what was going on. They finally got it sorted, going though my hand (imagine that!) and slid my back into the tube of death. I closed my eyes and let the music wash over me, thinking of being somewhere nice. The lake, on a boat rocking gently. It worked pretty well but I was still damned happy to get the hell away from the machine. I was told I would be called later in the week after someone had looked over the images. John and I went home and I put it out of my mind.
That Friday I got a call from my doctor's assistant. She's been awesome to me. She called me and said they had found a lesion on my Pituitary Gland. It didn't look like cancer, but they weren't sure and they'd call me on Monday. I sat staring at the phone for a few minutes, then called my mom. I held it together until halfway through explaining what I was told. I just started crying. John wasn't there and I didn't know what to do with myself. I hung up with my mom and paced until it was time to pick him up from work. I actually left about thirty minutes early because I couldn't stand being there alone. When John came out of work, I ran to meet him and told him what little I knew. We got in the car to drive home. I was numb. I kept replaying the conversation over and over trying to think of anything I missed. I couldn't think of anything. I don't remember much about that weekend. I tried sleeping through most of it. I looked up what a Pituitary Adenoma was. I talked to my family about what I knew.
On Sunday I had another killer headache. I went to the hospital but they wouldn't give me anything for the pain, they just gave me Benedryl to make me sleep. That Monday, still with a migraine I went to see my doctor. She was pretty upset that the ER hadn't done anything. She gave me a shot of Morphine and explained to me a bit about what she knew- It was a tumor about 1.5 CM in diameter, not huge sounding, but bigger than most of these kinds of tumors are. She said most of them aren't cancerous and that she was referring me to a Neurosurgeon in the area and that I'd get a call to set up an appointment sometime that week.
A few months have passed since I've found out about this thing growing in my head and with up coming surgery I've decided to write down everything that's happened leading to this point. There is a thread on the PWOT forums that I've been updating, but it started off with me asking for advice because I thought I was pregnant. I've gotten countless replies and Personal Messages with feedback and support that's helped me more than anyone can know. I just want everyone to know how much I appreciate that. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
I've had awful migraines since I was around 14 years old. Last summer they started getting worse and worse until I was having them every day. To anyone who's had any form of migraine, you know how awful they feel and how much pain they cause. All the doctors I saw, every time I was in the emergency room always told me I wasn't drinking enough water, I was drinking too much caffeine, I was eating certain foods that triggered them, I was sleeping too much or not enough. They would give me something for the pain or something that would make me sleep. One doctor gave me ice cold IV fluids for hours while I was crying in pain until when that didn't work, she relented and gave me something for the pain. I ran into her a few months later at a clinic and was promptly treated as some opiate seeking junkie.
The run around treatment was getting me nowhere. I was given countless pills to help "prevent" migraines but nothing for the pain once they started. I was in the emergency room almost every week, crying and puking, just wanting to die. They had me on heart medication, anti seizure medication, anti depressants all to try and prevent these mind crippling headaches. Nothing helped. I hated the looks at the hospital; they thought I was a junkie trying to get a fix. They would pull out John from the room and ask him if I was trying to get pain meds. They would tell me that this wasn't normal, then give me a shot in the ass and make me leave. They stopped giving me Morphine and started giving me shots of Benedryl to knock me out and Phenergin to keep me from puking from the pain. It got to the point where I stopped going in because the treatment wasn't working and they would promptly tell me to leave even if I was still in pain.
A few months passed and I was able to get insurance through something called "Six Month Domestic Partnership" pledge. I set up an appointment with a doctor in the hospital group I was in. I told her my symptoms, how often I get headaches and all the medication I had been on and that nothing had helped. She examined me, listened to me and scheduled me an MRI for later that week. It finally seemed as if someone was listening, not just fiddling with my prescriptions and ushering me out of their office as fast as possible.
I want to stop right here and say something. It may seem as I'm coming off hard on medical professionals. I know how hard they work, starting from before Med school and continuing throughout their entire lives. I'm not trying to belittle that in anyway. A hand full of doctors have helped me through this in ways that go above and beyond. More than a hand full did not and it's something that will stay with me for a long time because of the way I was treated. I'm not saying that it's not possible for people to make mistakes. But I was seeing the same doctors for months and not one thought to look beyond the young woman who dressed kind of weird and always seemed to be wearing slippers (shut up) and take a look at what was causing this pain. The woman who pumped me full of IV fluids and told me when I left to "Drink some vitamin water" treated me at a low income clinic a few months after our run in at the hospital and upon walking in the room stated "We don't carry opiates in the clinic." She didn't even prescribe me anything stronger than an Advil and told me to "Go home and try to sleep." It's experiences like those that left me feeling jaded with the health care system.
Before I had my MRI, I had an unexpected event occur. I was over a month late getting my monthly friend and was sure I was pregnant. I had many symptoms and was extremely happy with this news. I had a home test come back positive. John had never wanted kids, but relented to the idea seeing how fucking exuberant I was. Then I had three pregnancy tests done from different doctors and got the news that I was not, in fact pregnant. Each time that news hit me I didn't want to believe it. I was (at that point) three months late. I had foolishly stared telling family and friends that I was pregnant and then I had to tell them that I wasn't. I stayed home the day of the last test and cried. I made the mistake of watching Juno for the first time and cried even more. I fell asleep on the couch sometime that day with the Kittymonster as my comfort.
That week was my MRI. John and I had started looking at mobile homes and had put in an offer for one we found through work. He dropped me off at the hospital and went to drop off the application for the park we were trying to move into. I filled out some paperwork and waited for them to call me in. A tech came out and explained what they were doing and asked if I had a music preferance. They gave me headphones while I was in the machine. MRI's look much bigger on TV then they really are. When you lay down you are slid in to a round hollow cylender. Your shoulders touch both sides and the top is about five inches away from your face. The MRI scan, depending on what they're looking for takes about 40 minutes. If you move, they pretty much have to start all over again. It's really fucking loud and just plain not pleasant. When I looked straight up, I saw what looked like flecks of dried blood. About half way through, they injected me with a contrast dye. It was nice for a break, but they didn't pull me all the way out. Just enough to get at my arms. I have a problem with people finding my veins. It runs in the family and it's a pain in the ass. Most people drawing blood stab one arm ten times, then move to the other and repeat. I always tell anyone doing blood work to just go for the one in my hand. Most take it as a challenge or something and I sit there and get poked (bladow!) for about ten minutes before they relent. It's exactly what happened this time, only I couldn't move or bend my neck to see what was going on. They finally got it sorted, going though my hand (imagine that!) and slid my back into the tube of death. I closed my eyes and let the music wash over me, thinking of being somewhere nice. The lake, on a boat rocking gently. It worked pretty well but I was still damned happy to get the hell away from the machine. I was told I would be called later in the week after someone had looked over the images. John and I went home and I put it out of my mind.
That Friday I got a call from my doctor's assistant. She's been awesome to me. She called me and said they had found a lesion on my Pituitary Gland. It didn't look like cancer, but they weren't sure and they'd call me on Monday. I sat staring at the phone for a few minutes, then called my mom. I held it together until halfway through explaining what I was told. I just started crying. John wasn't there and I didn't know what to do with myself. I hung up with my mom and paced until it was time to pick him up from work. I actually left about thirty minutes early because I couldn't stand being there alone. When John came out of work, I ran to meet him and told him what little I knew. We got in the car to drive home. I was numb. I kept replaying the conversation over and over trying to think of anything I missed. I couldn't think of anything. I don't remember much about that weekend. I tried sleeping through most of it. I looked up what a Pituitary Adenoma was. I talked to my family about what I knew.
On Sunday I had another killer headache. I went to the hospital but they wouldn't give me anything for the pain, they just gave me Benedryl to make me sleep. That Monday, still with a migraine I went to see my doctor. She was pretty upset that the ER hadn't done anything. She gave me a shot of Morphine and explained to me a bit about what she knew- It was a tumor about 1.5 CM in diameter, not huge sounding, but bigger than most of these kinds of tumors are. She said most of them aren't cancerous and that she was referring me to a Neurosurgeon in the area and that I'd get a call to set up an appointment sometime that week.
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