Suck Ass Birthday

Second back surgery was this past week, the day before my birthday.  One nurse said, "Anesthesia... the gift that keeps on giving."  Yeah...

Apparently it went well.  The surgeon said he removed a lot of scar tissue from the last surgery (that can't be good though, right?) and cleaned the disc out really well so nothing else would come out.  I don't remember much from the recovery room except answering some questions... maybe.  My room was just like last time, and I slept a lot.  I had a few visitors who brought flowers.  The boyfriend took me home the next day and I slept some more.

For some reason though, this whole experience has me feeling a little discontented.  During the pre-op visit with the surgeon the week before surgery his demeanor that day just bothered me.  I asked a myriad of questions about what exactly I should and should not do so that this doesn't happen again.  He answered them but basically said he wants me to live my life and doesn't want me to have to act like a 60-year-old in what I do.  He said to use common sense, but then was all, "And if it does happen again we'll just go in again and fuse."  Yes, we'd talked about it before, but there was something about how casually he said it this time that pissed me off... like, yeah, whatever, no big deal if it does happen.  That is a big fucking deal to me!  During that appointment I also brought up wanting to get pregnant at some point and asked some questions about that.  So yeah, he's had several patients have a disc rupture again during a pregnancy and there's not a damn thing you can do about it until after the baby comes.  That would be my luck.

Then the anesthesiologist bothered me.  He asked if I'd had anesthesia before and if I'd had any trouble with it.  I told him last time they said I woke up agitated.  He snapped back, "I don't care how you wake up.  We can give you more and knock you back out again."  I'm not sure if that second sentence is exactly what he said, but his tone pissed me the fuck off.

When back in my room after it was all over, I found a second IV in my other hand.  They had told me they would put in after I was asleep, so no biggie.  But it wasn't going to be used again after surgery and was very painful, so I asked at least five different people several times if I could have it removed.  I think I started asking around 9pm, which was nine hours after surgery was over, and it was finally taken out at 4am.  And apparently they had a hard time getting that one in because I have two other insertion spots on that hand and wrist that are majorly bruised and sore.  Third time was a charm, I guess?

So after it all I went home and the boyfriend was weird all day, like he always is after I have surgery.  He's very standoffish and doesn't console or anything (he says it's because he doesn't like seeing people in pain).  He didn't even get me a birthday present.  But he has been cooking dinner and doing everything around the house, and I guess that's how he shows his love.  And he did get me a card and told me he's ordered a present, so there's that.  I did get a call from my peeps at work on speakerphone, which was amazing and probably the highlight of my birthday.

We're not doing anything for Valentine's Day.  I pretty much can't anyway.  I made him a dirty card but can't follow through on anything in it.  Maybe we'll go out to dinner next weekend or something.

I've felt like a bucket of shit since I got home.  My back hurts so terribly.  The pain wasn't anywhere near this bad after the first surgery, and the meds make me feel so freakin sick.  I'm just miserable.  And home alone for 12 hours a day.  It's awesome.

And the fucking cherry on top came in a text message this morning.  One of my "sisters" sent a mass text to her sisters, mother and me just saying Happy Valentine's Day.  The mother responded with similar tidings, but of course also had to add in that "to some of the best mommies I know."  I guess that didn't apply to me.  RUB IT THE FUCK IN, WHY DON'T YOU?!?!

Man I'm bitching a lot.  I have so much to be thankful for... I made it through surgery which will hopefully stick this time.  My step-dad is still alive for now.  I have so many people who love me.

I just physically and emotionally feel like shit, so please excuse me.

Downhill

I don't think that aisle thing is going to happen.  He's not doing well.  He's miserable and has been ready to "go" for a long time now.  He's on a ton of medication so I don't think he's in much pain, but breathing is so very difficult and he's very weak.  He's got a catheter so he doesn't have to make the long and slow journey to the bathroom all the time anymore.

I don't know if it's the meds or what, but sometimes he gets so confused and seems to be very foggy.  We'll be talking about one thing, and he'll come out of left field with something completely different.  Sometimes what he says is just gibberish and makes no sense at all.

It's so hard to see him like that.  He keeps saying how he doesn't want us to remember him like this.  Whenever he says it, we'll bring up a nice memory from the past to try to cheer him up.  Sometimes it works. 

He's so ready to go, but his body isn't cooperating yet.  The hospice nurse said that it can take a week or two for the body to start shutting down once a person hits the point he's at.  We're in the middle of week two now, I believe. She comes again today, and it'll be interesting to hear what she has to say.

This is all just so sad!  :(

Bridal Expo

My stepdad's doing about the same, I think.  Maybe a little bit of progress, and I'll take whatever good news I can get.  I go to visit him almost every day after work and on days off I'll spend the afternoon.  It's still day to day and we don't know what's going to happen, but we're remaining hopeful.

This past Sunday was a local bridal expo that my mom was supposed to attend with me, but for obvious reasons she couldn't.  So my "sister" went, and we had a blast.  The morning consisted of a venue tour of some local spots, and I think I've found the perfect one for us.  It's in historic downtown and is the entire top floor of a very old building.  It's currently a ballroom where they host dancing classes and rent out for events.  Is it not effing gorgeous??

Eek!  I think the ceremony would take place on this side.

Other side of the room and how
the reception area could be.

Breathtaking!

Entryway from the elevator

They had it somewhat staged so you could get an idea of how it would be set up.  The price is great and they're partnered with the caterer I like, so there would be a discount on that fee.  Plus, my sister is best friends with the caterer's family and actually used to work for them and said she could probably get me the "family" rate... sweet!!  It's all starting to fall into place.

Anyways, after the tour was the actual expo where tons of vendors were set up.  I talked to so many people and got a lot of ideas.  There were two fashion shows, and the dresses were gorgeous.  I don't think I'll go all out on a gown this time down the aisle, but I definitely have a good idea of how to get a gorgeous dress for a great price.

I went home that evening all excited and shared what I learned with the boyfriend.  He was happy with the venue I like and said he'd definitely have to officially propose soon!  Shhh.... don't tell him, but I wore my grandmother's rock all day at the expo.  I really miss having a diamond on my hand.

He originally didn't think any of his friends or family would come down for the wedding, and he actually called his sister to ask if she would.  She got all excited, said all six of them would be here for it and demanded to know when it would be.  That was the first anyone in his family heard anything about us getting married, and I'm fairly certain she'll pass the word around.  I hoping the extra influence from outside sources will light a fire under his butt, haha!

Yesterday my stepdad asked if he could walk me down the aisle.  It absolutely warmed my heart.  I hope above all else that he is still around and able to do that when the time comes.

Scary Shit

My dad almost died the other day.  Technically he's my stepdad, but he's been in my life as a father figure since I was eight or so.  He's been in bad health for many years with advanced COPD that has severely affected his life.  He's also got heart issues and an inoperable hernia in his chest, I believe.

I got a call from my mother Sunday afternoon that he'd just gotten home from the ER and had been diagnosed with pneumonia.  My heart fell immediately, knowing that something like that could do him in.  She assured me he was okay for the time being.  I checked in on them Monday, and he was starting to feel a little better from the antibiotics.

My phone rang Tuesday morning at 2:24 AM.  It was my mother saying he'd taken a turn for the worse and I should come over.  This could be the end.  When I got there he was in bed and could barely breathe.  I held his hand and told him I loved him.  My mom and I spent several hours like that with him while he attempted to rest.  Sometimes he could say a few words. We basically said our goodbyes.  I didn't want him to go, but if it was his time, I hoped it would happen quickly.  It was heartbreaking to see him in so much pain. 

I can't write any more detail without getting way too worked up.  Long story short, he didn't want to go to the hospital.  He wanted to die at home.  But the pain became too much and he agreed we should call an ambulance.  After several hours in the emergency room he finally got pain medication and was breathing a little easier.  We got hospice care set up and he now has people coming by several times a week.  Hopefully he gets over the pneumonia, but if he doesn't, at least he'll be at home and will be able to go without any pain.  We're just taking it day by day right now.

Gathering moss over here...

Hello all.  Happy New Year.  A little late, but that's how I roll here lately.  Once again I feel like life has been stalled.  So many things I want to do, but I have to wait.  I want to get married, but I have to wait.  I want to try to get pregnant, but I have to wait.  I want to go to the gym and physically feel better, but I have to wait.

Second back surgery is scheduled for next month... the day before my birthday to be exact.  Hopefully I'll be getting out of the hospital the day I ring in my 32nd year.  So I'm waiting another month for that.  Then after I'll wait many months more... to heal, to be able to effectively exercise, to start that two pink lines trek again.

And I'm still waiting for an official proposal.  Part of me is thinking that if he really wanted to propose he would have by now.  I mean, seriously.  We started talking about this over a year ago.  I had my ring setting (we've already got the main stone) picked out seven months ago, and it's not expensive.  Then the logical part of me kicks in pointing out yet again how tight money really has been.  But how long has a girl got to wait?!

I've been in yet another funk for a while lately, and I'm tired of waiting for it to end.  I think all of the above plus a little more and just worrying about it has dragged me down here.  I considered taking anti-depressants again, but I keep telling myself I can get out of this without pharmaceutical help.

I've thought maybe getting creative somehow and physically making something could help and I've been antsy trying to decide on something.  Whenever (if ever) we do get married, a lot of the wedding and reception will have to be DIY, and I'd really like to start on it.  But I have to wait for the proposal and setting a date to decide on themes and colors and what exactly I want to make.  I asked him a little while ago if he'd thought of when he would like to have the wedding.  In true male fashion he said, "I'm thinking May."  So, four months?  Sure, that's totally doable.  *sigh*  I'll be lucky to even have the first ring on my finger by then.

I'm just bitching and moaning again.  I feel like that's all I do.  But again, this is where I come to do it, and the loving internet gets to enjoy it.  Joking aside, it is nice to have this place to vent knowing no one I know is actually reading.

Seven Percent

Here we go again.  Looks like I will be ringing in the new year with my third operation in eight months scheduled.  That's just crazy.  I met with my surgeon today who went over the MRI with me.  It's bad.  Even worse than last time he said.  The same disc has re-ruptured and is bulging even more than it did before the first surgery.  He said I'm one of the unlucky 7% that it happens to.  I always was an overachiever.

At first he mentioned physical therapy with spinal traction, but didn't think it would be effective based on the size of the bulge.  Surgically, he said I had two options.  One is to do the same procedure as last time... clean everything out and let it heal.  The second is to fuse the two vertebrae together so the disc wouldn't be an issue again.  The first would leave me with an increased risk of re-rupturing it once again, but it could also be just fine.  The other would cause more problems in the future like more back pain and the possibility of faster degeneration of the next disc up.  At my age, he recommended doing the first.  I agreed.

This just fucking sucks.  More work will be missed.  More money will be lost.  And I was really hoping that we'd get to start trying to conceive in the next couple of months.  So much for that.

I'm so frustrated right now.

Meals and MRIs

Hello all!  It's been quite a while!  A lot has been going on as it always seems to during the holiday season.  We were prepping for some of the boyfriend's friends to join us for a few days over Thanksgiving and were a little frantic for a bit.  We had to finish the guest bathroom which had been taken apart for painting a couple of months ago.  I'm happy to say it turned out very nicely.  We also needed to declutter the rest of the house to make room for two adults, two little kiddos and their large dog.  The house looked amazing!  Then they didn't come.  They would have been driving through that snow storm that hit the east coast the Wednesday before and didn't want to risk their family's safety.  We were bummed, but it was the right decision.

So instead all of the boyfriend's local family came over for dinner!  I was freaking out about cooking everything, but it turned out amazing.  We prepped as much as we could the night before and the morning of, and the actual afternoon cooking went very smoothly.  We did a deep fried turkey for the first time, and it really was one of the best I've ever had.  The whole event was relaxed and all eight of us fit in our little house pretty well.  They brought over three bottles of wine and about two whole glasses were partaken of one, so I've had some nice evenings since then, haha.

I am so thankful that I love his family and they seem to love me!  They are all so wonderful and we get along well.  The conversation always flows easily, and I feel very comfortable around them all.  I loved my former in-laws very much, but I never felt like I could relax around them.  Maybe it's because they were my first experience with "meeting the parents" and I really didn't know how to act.  Me being all awkward in general anyways didn't help, I'm sure.  It is a great relief to know that my future in-laws are freakin fantastic.

But through all this holiday wonderfulness, there have been some troubles.  Mainly, my back.  Oh, my aching back.  Well, leg actually.  The sciatic pain returned for good about a month and a half ago and PT isn't helping anymore.  I met with my surgeon who ordered an MRI with contrast, which I had this past week.  It was pure torture.  I can't lie on my back for more than a minute without being in some pretty horrific pain, and the MRI required I be in that position for about half an hour.  I was in tears it was so awful.  But they said the images turned out great, so there's that.

I meet with the surgeon again week after next to discuss the results.  He said it could either be scar tissue from the back surgery or something could be going on with a disc again.  I'm so frustrated and tired of being in pain every fucking day.  Luckily I have lots of good pain pills left over from the surgeries this year and they're actually working now with no side effects.  I'm thankful for that.  I'm just really nervous to hear what's wrong.

No Matter What

I've been thinking about marriage a lot lately.  Maybe it's because the boyfriend and I are getting closer to official engagement and have been talking about it more often.  Maybe it's because we've been discussing other long-term plans more.

Maybe it's because I had a dream about the ex-husband a few days ago.  I think he was more symbolic than anything because in the dream marriage was forever by law, and he was legally required to move in with me.  We were sitting in the kitchen discussing our lives and what had happened between us in the past.  I won't lie... I woke up missing him a little.

But more than anything I was left wanting that forever-no-matter-what commitment.  Which I feel mostly confident enough to say now I think I've got with the boyfriend.  I would say I know I have it, but if I've learned anything from the past it's that people and minds change.  You just never know.  But I do know that he's the one I want to try to have it with.

I love him so much, but sometimes he makes me so mad and to the point that I wonder why we're still together.  Why I kept going back to him.  Why I still love him.  But every day he shows me how he loves me, and when I look at him, even through that anger I want my life to unfold next to him.  I want our lives to play out together.  I want to see what the future has for us.

I heard a part of Sonnet 116 recently, and it's been repeating in my head.  Who knows if I'm interpreting it correctly, but here's what I got out of it.  I like to think we have that strong love now.  I realize that I bended in the earlier part of our relationship.  I was the remover.  He is like no one I had been with before, and some of that scared me.  I didn't think I could be happy with him.  But then again, I'm not sure I was fully in love at that point.  I believe I was on the way, but I wasn't there yet.

My heart knew better though and wouldn't allow me to fully let him go.  It continued to tell me to give it another shot.  I'm glad it did.

Quick Rant

I get so frustrated with some of my friends who have kids.  When I call or text asking about how they (the friends themselves) are doing, all I get back are either just pictures of the children or "Well, he's been doing this," or "She's been up to that."

I want to scream, "That is not what I asked you!!  I want to know how and what YOU yourself are doing.  Tell me YOUR thoughts, YOUR emotions!!"

I understand that their kids are an enormous part of their lives and make up a large part of what they do.  I don't at all mind hearing stories about the little ones, but I don't want to just talk about them.  And I don't want to be bombarded with pictures of them... one is enough.  

I can understand where they're coming from.  They're proud parents and want to brag about the newest things their babes have accomplished.  Although with one in particular I get the feeling her husband isn't too involved with the whole parenting process, so most of the responsibility falls to her... I wonder if at times she feels that's all she should or can talk about, which makes me sad. But that's a whole other post.

Anyways, they all know my story.  They know I sometimes have a hard time with things related to children.  I don't expect them to go out of their way or anything.  I just wish they could be a little more sensitive to the fact.  Or at least reach out to me every once in a while.  They are never the ones to try to keep the friendships going by reestablishing contact.  Grrr.

Okay, end rant.  I feel better now.