zeptember

Almost had a panic attack at work last week. I was just sitting there taking call after call and suddenly I felt like I was being choked to death. I had to regain my composure and breathe slow, deep breaths before answering the next call.

Today at work, I got bitchier and bitchier as the day wore on. I felt like at any moment, I could stand up, begin screaming like a wilderbeast, throw things off my desk, and heft it over the railing (I work in a loft).

I’m beginning to think that the Yasmin is affecting me.

Gah. And still two more days of work to go this week.

Over the weekend I was finally able to have some intimate time with my man. Only 24 days after surgery! Technically I was supposed to wait another week but well, we couldn’t hold out.

Of course, this brought george back temporarily. Barely any cramping. Then he disappeared.
Then today, two days later, without warning - george re-appeared - bright red and flowing. WTF!!! And horrible pinching pains on the left side again! It’s a good thing I have my post-op doctor appointment today.

I went to a pain management doctor today for the back pain I always have. This doctor talked about epidurals and surgery and steroidal injections into my spine! I told him I only want his advice on further NON SURGICAL treatment options. So he’s going to get me an MRI and also refer me to a specialist who can teach me to do gentle stretches.
I have back pain since my car accident in 1994, which leads my back to go out about 3-4 times a year. Each time, I’m out of work for about a week. But today I was not presenting pain symptoms. He felt my neck and shoulders and asked me a lot of questions, and gave me a preliminary diagnosis of Cervical Spondylosis (arthritis of the neck). I’m not shocked by that at all since thirteen years out from the car accident, arthritis is a given.

I just want the bleeding to go away so I can spend more intimate time with my man. We’ve waited weeks to enjoy each other, dammit!

4:46pm Edit: I went to the post-op appointment and had to walk two and a half blocks from the parking garage in the pouring rain. I had my raincoat on but my pants got a soaking. The good news is that doc tells me I’m healing up just fine. And she also explained the images she took of my pelvic region during surgery, and drew on the images with her pen to illustrate where the Endo was. Click here and here if yer not easily squicked by pictures of innards. Sorry about the crappy huge font - I couldn’t figure out how to make the font size smaller on my boyfriend’s Photoshop software, and I don’t have Photoshop installed on my ‘new’ Mac Mini, yet.
Doc tells me that the bleeding is within the realm of what could happen for the first month post-op, especially once resuming sexual activity. She tried to talk me into taking Lupron, which is chemically-induced menopause. But I’ve seen the effects of that on a friend recently, and I’m not into simulated Niacin flush hot flashes that last 20 minutes or more on a regular basis. So I’m to continue taking the Yasmin for a year with no interruption - no taking the sugar pills for the ‘week off’ to allow a period to occur. We’ll see how it all goes. The only side effects to the Yasmin so far have been slight nausea on the first day, and breast tenderness/swelling as of last night. I feel like I’ve already gone up a cup size.
But so far, no reports of extreme depression or any of the nasty side effects listed in the booklet.

Some day life will get back to normal and I can stop talking about george and post-op stuff.

George began to fade last night, giving me hope that I was getting better. I enjoyed the company of some friends at their house just around the block, and felt thankful that I have friends living so close. I REALLY need to stop being such a hermit and take full advantage of the fortune of friends living within walking, as well as short cycling distance on the island.

I was sad to feel that george returned this morning. Today is therefore day 5 of george. I know that when he fades and comes back, that he’s about to kill me. So I’m not looking forward to today.

My dad called to check on me last night when I got home from work. I told him how I’d gone in to work and made the best of the situation. He then wanted to know my mental state. I was honest. “I feel like shit, dad. This was a hard week for me. I’ve been in a lot of pain.” He softened a bit, and was happy for me when I told him that I found out the company I work for has an anti-discrimination policy in place for people with medical conditions.

You’d think I was a teenager the way I go on about my dad and how hard he pushes me. Is it healthy that I still feel that young? Is it healthy that he still treats me like I’m that young? I know I’ll be a basket case and I’ll need a very reliable life coach when my father finally leaves his mortal shell, cuz he’s IT - he’s the guy who coached me through living in poverty hell with my mom, through college, through my jobs, through my financial crises.

I made it through the day without more than a 600mg Ibuprofen. That’s not to say I didn’t suffer, though.

I had to go through ‘new hire orientation’ meetings today. I had to grit my teeth and steel against the pain a few times. Same thing while on the phone with customers during the little bit of phone time I did have today.

And of course, even though I had Monday off for President’s Day (that STILL sounds so silly, I never got that day off when I lived in Michigan and worked for a corporation), the email replies were still queueing up. And being off due to george and a doctor’s appointment yesterday didn’t help either. So I had a fuckton of email replies to get through, as well as chasing down escalation cases dating back to last week. Thus, I stayed an hour and a half overtime today. Sure, the pay will be nice. But goddamn, I just wanted my Tylenol 3 and the bed.

On my way home, I realised I forgot to take my Yasmin pill today. Even though I set a reminder for it. WTF. This is how hectic work is to me.

Oh, forgot to tell you - this morning in the shower, the scab on my left side fell off. It left a bit of a pit-mark, but it’s a sealed wound. I can’t wait for the other two scabs to fall off. Last week, a cow-orker who had a Laparoscopy a month before me showed off her scars. They’re nothing at all! I’ll be so happy if mine heal as well as hers.

So anyway, now I contemplate dinner. And Yasmin. And pain meds. And bed.

May tomorrow bring an end to the bleeding.

Left to my own decision, I’d have stayed home again today.

But the sound of my father’s voice keeps ringing in my head, “Even if you have to crawl in to work…”

It’s not just because I fear letting my father down if I lose this job due to poor attendance because of a disease.
I also fear letting my man down, because I’d become dependent upon him financially if I lose this job.

Given my own decision, I would have sold off a lot of my belongings and would have learned to live communally on a lower salary doing a job more suited to my happiness, or even a part-time job somewhere.

But I don’t feel I have a choice or a decision. And that’s sad.

I’ve chosen to want to please my father by being the first to go to college and escape poverty the way he did through corporate work. I’ve chosen to want to please my man through working for an entity which provides a way to pretend to live middle class.

I’ve made my bed, so to speak.

I’m not emotionally prepared to let these men down. And they’re not emotionally prepared to deal with being let down. That’s the fear - being disowned by them. Neither man likes it very much to have to support me financially. Both men give me the hairy eyeball whenever I ask for money or show dependency.

I looked into State Disability. I don’t qualify because I’m not out past eight consecutive days in a row. Not even my surgery qualified me. Although I was out for eleven days, the problem is that Disability doesn’t pay the first week off, anyway. It’s held as a “waiting period”, and then disability pay kicks in. So even though I miss work on a monthly basis, I still don’t qualify for disability. I would have to be unable to work all of the time due to my illness. And the fact is, I’m only ill once a month.

Now, to look fear square in the eye (OW, as I get a huge pinch on the left ovary causing me to cringe and gasp, while the uterine pain continues), I could say that although it’s rough today, I should still make an attempt to go in to work. Today is orientation day for me. I get to find out what sorts of benefits I get as a full-timer. Most importantly, I get to find out how many Paid Time Off (PTO) days I get, because I’ve already had to use …

…okay this is not cool. The pain is so bad now that I’m crying. I’d stood up to go prepare more food and there was a gush. Then the massive wave of pain. It passed after a few minutes. But I’m left with tears on my face.

*breathe*

I’ve already had to use one PTO day yesterday, and I’ll be using another on Monday for my post-op appointment and my pain-management appointment.
And then there’s the tickets to an event in Portland in May. And the trip home to see my parents in October. And every month, a few days off due to george (Hm I guess I should update that link for george).

*more breaths*

I need to wait for the pain to pass without Tylenol 3. I just took 600mg Ibuprofen, and now I wonder how that will react with the Yasmin, since the Yasmin booklet says also taking Ibu regularly can spike potassium levels (oh look, there’s Fear again).

…

I think the pain has passed along with the squid. … nope… still more.

But off I go to work. I don’t feel confident about this trek.

When the alarm went off at 5:30am, I got up and stood in the kitchen for a few minutes. I decided it wasn’t worth it and went back to bed. I got up again to call my boss at 7am - no answer. I left a message on her machine and the general manager’s voicemailbox. They never called back so I guess I am approved the day off.

I woke up sometime after 10am. I called my dad (returning his calls to check up on me over the weekend) and again got the response “well you better go in tomorrow even if you have to crawl in.” He’ll never know what I go through - I don’t expect him to understand. That’s why I took out another credit card just before surgery. It’s so I have extra money to pay back either surgery costs that insurance didn’t cover or pay my father back if I lose my job again.

I also called the surgeon and I’m waiting for a call back. Just want her input on the pain situation.
I’m hungry but I don’t want anything to eat. I’m in pain but I have to eat before I can take pain meds. So I’m eating pudding.

Today is Paczki Day. I haven’t had a Paczki since moving to California from Detroit. This saddens me further. The nearest Polish bakery is either in San Francisco or Concord. I’m in no condition to drive and I’m sure their Paczki are inferior to where I grew up, anyway.
Hah, not that my body would like the doughnuts anyway, now that I’m on a gluten-free diet. But in my mental state, it’s just one more thing to prove the world is out to get me.

I wish george was dead. I hope I’m killing him with every Yasmin pill I take. I hope the Yasmin doesn’t kill the rest of my body with george. Then he’d still win, the bastard.

Just 12 hours after taking the Yasmin for ovarian suppression, I awoke to such pain that ANY movement whatsoever triggered even more waves of pain. I laid in bed for over a half an hour trying to fall back asleep. I kept waking up and whimpering, so I got up.

This feels WORSE than the usual george pain I normally go through.

My teeth are gritting and the uterine pain feels white-hot and throbbing. I’m getting nauseated from the pain. I’ve taken a Tylenol 3 and now I’m burping up my dinner that I ate seven hours ago.

I’m pretty sure that pain this massive means I’m trying to pass something through my cervix. The bleeding got heavy while I was sleeping.
Can’t wait to see what kind of crap comes out, but I have been warned by reading other peoples’ post-op experiences.

Time to pace the house and do my breathing technique (a.k.a. Lamaze-style breathing) until the squid (or worse) passes through.

3:24am Edit: Just popped my second Tylenol 3. Both ovaries feel like they’re pinching/throbbing in unison. The entire pelvic region is on fire.

4:16am Edit: The pain has subsided quite a lot thanks to both the Tylenol 3 and the yoga poses I’ve been doing for the last half an hour. The yoga poses are found in a book called Fibroid Tumor and Endometriosis Self Help Book, by Susan M. Lark. I sat on my ankles and rested my forehead on the floor in ‘child’s pose’ for a couple of minutes at a time, and I also laid flat on my back on top of a knotted towel at the center of my back between my shoulder blades. I alternated between keeping my legs down on the ground and then knees bent with my feet planted on the floor.
Laying on my back with the knotted towel helped the most - especially when I also included a heating pad for the lower back.

Now I will try and get some sleep before the alarm goes off for work, and see how well I’m doing at that point, or whether I have to call in sick.

I got impatient and decided today was the day to finally clean out my linux box. The fan has needed cleaning for some time, now. I hefted the old Hewlett Packard PC outside and sprayed canned air in it. The act of lifting a heavy object I think is what brought george on. George arrived around noon today, shortly after I’d hefted my computer.

There was minor cramping and normal bleeding. I took the first of my birth control pills (Yasmin) at 2pm.

The cramps persisted throughout the day, never becoming debilitating.

The first dose of Yasmin made me slightly nauseous within 2 hours, and the nausea has come and go all day - always just enough to be annoying but not stopping me from eating a meal.

I started getting strong pinching pains in my left ovary again yesterday on the way to see my friends. But still no george. I’d been sobbing again due to emotional hormonal whack, and my eyes were very sore and I just wasn’t in any mood to go out. But I told my friends I would be there. So I went and actually had a great time! My friends rock the house.

I got home and the pain started up again. I took some Ibuprofen and was in bed before Midnight. Woke up this morning to yet more ovarian pain. Still no george. I know he’s likely to be late (and well now he is) due to surgery. But I really can’t take much more time off work right now, especially since I just got hired. I hope that when he does show up that there’s no pain. But somehow I don’t think that will be the case, given all the pre-george pain.

And my boyfriend is still at the game convention all this weekend, so I woke up this morning and had heartache cuz he wasn’t there in bed next to me. How pathetic. We only live together for chrissakes. But there it is. I miss him terribly.

And now, the scary video:
I’m not usually a You Tube kind of person, but in getting my nerdy news fix, I came across the scariest video of the day: A Limey View Of The Deep South. I cringed from the moment they announced their goal because I knew they may very well achieve it. I gritted my teeth and winced the entire time, I swear.
Deliverance is not REALLY a fiction type movie, my friends. That is the South. Now these fools know it, too. I laughed my ass off too - this was funny and scary all at the same time.

While at work yesterday, one of my cow-orkers decided to pick me to vent her lovelife woes to, and asked if we could hang out at lunch. I dig this cow-orker, so I said yes. The entire lunch hour was spent trying to tell me the backstory leading up to the clincher. The entire hour!
Because she didn’t finish her story, it had to be continued, but I didn’t think she’d try to continue it through the rest of MY workday. This is where the line was crossed.

I have major anxiety issues around TIME and I told her this at lunch as soon as she crossed the half-hour mark. Every second of my time is regulated at work. I have exactly 15 minutes for break twice a day and exactly 60 minutes for lunch. I have to be back in my seat at the appropriate time and ready to take calls or I stress out because management says they log into our machines when we are NOT on time, to see what we are doing. I don’t care if she doesn’t care about her time at work. That’s not my problem. But don’t make your bad habits MY problem, y’know? I had to tell her several times to go back to her desk or that I’d reply to her chat messages as soon as I could.

She’s my age but I felt like I was counselling a high schooler. This is what looooove sickness does to people.

Don’t get me wrong - I’d have happily counseled her outside of work. I did say that I dig her. But on work time it crosses my line.

So that’s what happened next. She invited me to dinner.

I said yes because I needed distraction and it’s the weekend and I could use some conversation and get out of the house instead of heading straight home from work and sulking.
However, the dinner turned into my cow-orker and her friend gossiping about some convention they went to, and showing each other camphone pictures and digital cam pictures. They would not share with me - THEIR lifestyle is too secret - I’m JUST the cow-orker and in the words of my cow-orker “would have something to hold over” her if I did find out about her oh-so-torrid lifestyle.

I basically said “look, three years ago I reached the point of wanting to transition into the male gender. I’m a goth. I’ve also been in the BDSM scene. I was raised in Detroit. You CAN’T shock me.” I didn’t tell her about the shooting I witnessed at age nine. Like it have mattered. None of the rest did. She was still convinced I’d be scarred for life.

So she and her friend keep talking about this secret convention, so I roll my eyes and say again that they can’t shock me, and “what, is it wearing a Tigger suit at the convention? Is that what it is?”

They shot each other a look. I shrugged and said ‘SO?’ They quickly recovered and said something like “no, we’re just trying to gauge how close that could be to the truth”.

At this point I wanted to say it out loud but obviously these people are terrified for being discovered as Furries. Why they think this information will shock me is STUPID. And it was at this point that I became disinterested in the rest of the dinner date and began making noises to go home. However, the waiter was nowhere to be found to ask for the check. For nearly 45 minutes.

In their gossip and giggling and mumbling while I sat on the other side of the table like a chapperone, I overheard a word: anthrocon. I said it over and over and over in my head to remember it (I have a very bad memory from the car accident). When I got home I looked it up and confirmed that I was indeed correct. They are Furries. SO THE FUCK WHAT.
Why they are living in terror at their lifestyle is beyond me. It’s not my problem. It doesn’t belong to me. Please take the drama elsewhere.

I got home and felt as if I’d been attacked by a psychic vampire. I guess it is possible to be both a Furry and a psychic vampire. One can be many things. In any case, if this girl approaches me for more of my time on the job, I will put it to her bluntly that we can take our conversation to dinner outside of work (through the week, we don’t share a lunch hour, and now after yesterday I am thankful).

The argument could be made that I ALLOWED my time to be owned by this girl, and that is correct. I was trying to be a good listener. She sought me out. But after awhile it crossed the line is all, and I don’t always know how to stop it while in the midst of it. It’s only after the injury that I can look back and see where things should have been reigned in.

*sigh*

So I came home last night and was still depressed in general. I was worn out from my cow-orker but depressed because of PMS. Two different things intersecting. I took a muscle relaxer because my upper back and neck were stiff yet again, and the joints aching. I plopped down in front of the TV to finish watching Berkeley Square.

When I was finished watching TV, I began sobbing. I was mad at the TV series. I was mad at the fact that I’ve just accepted full time employment with the job that’s so far away. I was depressed because I spent a lot of money in the past week and I should be saving it because I owe on two personal loans. I was mad that there was no one to go clubbing with - and no club night last night anyway. I cried because I missed my boyfriend. I cried because Friday was my grandmother’s birthday (She’s been dead for 21 years though). I cried because I was alone while a party went on next door. I cried because I’m afraid of being in pain again this month from george, who I thought was due yesterday but is really due today. Related to that, I cried because I’m afraid I’ll miss more work this month from george pain, even though I’ve just had surgery - people at work think I’m all better now. They don’t understand.

I woke up this morning after having two nightmares. The first involved being witness to three people being murdered by a psychopath and being made into sausage. The second involved me getting away from a male - I hurt him and caused him to bleed heavily when I thought I was being attacked. He came after me. Someone shot him or otherwise splattered him, and I looked back and saw a lung gush with massive amounts of blood out of the guy’s mouth. I looked in horror as I realised I’d be blamed for the guy’s death and people would never know I was the one who was attacked.

I suspect too that the muscle relaxers I’ve been taking before bed this week have had a CNS Depressant effect on me, further irritating my already fragile emotions which are a result in my opinion of continued post-op blues and PMS.

Regarding post-op developments…
My belly button and the area just below the button are still painful to the touch and still bruised inside. I still have the three raised scabs. It’s still painful to lay on my stomach, and sometimes hurts when I roll over onto my side, or if I get up out of bed too quick. I keep forgetting to adhere to the rule against picking up heavy things, but I haven’t tried to pick up a computer monitor or anything stupid like that.
So healing continues to go well.

I’m just impatient for george to show up and leave already, and I’m worrying about the birth control pill’s side effects.