Checking in

Had a great Thanksgiving with the kids and grandkids. This is a great chapter to be in.

Still have a catheter. Complications. No surprise there. It will be fine.

Feeling very thankful today.

Tracy

Hello

My whole sleeping schedule has turned upside down!

I go to sleep at 11-12 and wake up at 6-6:30am.

What is happening to me!!?? I’m not completely sure that I enjoy it, to be honest. 

So today is the first day that I’m feeling a bit human! I was worried about that because we did a lot last night with the Christmas events here , good lord, I actually do live in a hallmark movie and I couldn’t love it more! I felt like hell when I got home but bounced back!

Then we went to dinner at a community restaurant and while we waited the 45 minutes ym and I did a little shopping. 

I’m not allowed to walk. I have to use a wheelchair which makes me feel like a prisoner! I want to to go o this way, whomever is pushing wants to go that way and I have no free will. It’s frustrating BUT.....

There were thousands of people here in mah backyard, Y’all and we want down by the tree so..... I might have told my husband to at the very least use my predicament to get us a good seat! What kind a bitch is gonna say no to a poor thing in a wheelchair? 

Exactly!

Have I mentioned that two days before surgery I went up to the Falls to have my hairdresser cut my hair off.

Yes. I. Did.

It was to the middle of my back and a pain in the ass. I took some pics to show how I want to be sexy and fun with my curly curls and she did a great job! I love it!

Also.... I stopped coloring my hair 9 months ago. Finished. So over it. And it is, if I do say so myself, gorgeous, sophisticated, sexy, funky and flatters my skin tone. The back is mostly my real color which I have not seen since I was.... THIRTEEN years old. 

I get soooo many compliments on it! M y hairdresser was like, ok, Girl, I’m done. I love your hair. I’m done with the hassle!

Lots of people tell me that!!

This past year has been so wonderful.  So many changes I’m embracing. So many things that make me feel strong and ME and sassy and sexy too. I’m embracing this 50’s shit!

Have to go!

Tracy

Recovering.

It’s going to take a minute to recover from this surgery. I’m making sure to do all I can do to allow my body to heal.

I’ll be around some but my priority is my health.

Tracy

Look at me growing up...

Something I finally learned last week that I wish I’d figured out years before. 

You do not have to be liked by everyone.

You do not have to be “the best”

Person in any number of situations

Patient

Customer

Neighbor

Friend

Communicator

Saint

Woman

Human

Etc...

And I figured this out as I was compliantly drinking 48 ounces of water to take a urine test I’d been unable to perform minutes earlier... so much water that I threw up! I thought, oh fuck no. Being 51 yrs old has to come in handy in some way and why not use it to say... I’m fucking 51 years old and you’re not the boss of me! You know, I’ll work on that last part a bit....

I can say:

Not today 

Can’t do your thing this way

Won’t put myself in this situation

I’m uncomfortable 

don’t speak to me like that

I don’t want to

I just can’t bend over backwards to do this thing so that you’ll like me better.

If my needs or boundaries upset you, I’m ok with that and I won’t feel guilty, embarrassed, sad etc... 

I felt as though a load, more that 45 ounces, was taken off my back and boy, did I use this new found freedom in the hospital! 

Advocate for yourself. That’s why God gave you a mouth. Yes, my husband can absolutely step in to advocate if all else has gone into the ditch. And if that happens, I won’t feel badly about that either.... but I most certainly won’t allow much to ever go off the ditch. This I do know!

I had a good hospital experience overall. 

I agreed that I was in no shape to leave the hospital as scheduled or the next day or the next.....

My doctor is very good. My anesthesiologist was the most thorough, intelligent, calming, empathic, doctor who needed to make sure that not only myself, but my family, understood what he was going to do. That he saw things that were concerning enough to tell me that I needed to know that he was going to be prepared just in case. As an example, my throat is very small and I easily choke. He made note to not use his go to tube size. Told me that he can see by looking at my pallet that I stop breathing when sleeping. It’s formed slightly incorrectly. It slopes where it should not. He said that he’d never leave me, make it his sole responsibility to see that I lived through the surgery and god damn, if he didn’t! My surgery took seven hours. I needed 2.5 hours in recovery just to be brought out of the anesthesia. I told everyone to not give me morphine because I could not come out of another surgery screaming for help.

He promised that he wouldn’t let me wake up mid surgery and I hadn’t even asked my burning question! I knew we were soul mates!

I came out slowly and increasingly aware that he was still with me. When I tried to say... “im drowning” and the nurse snapped at me to say “ I heard you the first time” ( had I said it more than once?) and I snapped back WITH a tube down my throat, “ then Help me!” he told her to get off her “fucking ass”and suction me

soul mates. 

And I didn’t even know at that point that I’d died... although I did have knowledge that something... some thing.... had gone very bad.

Until next time,

Tracy

Checking out....

I died on the table during my surgery. I stopped breathing and my heart stopped beating. Died.

My one night stay has turned into several nights and I’ll tell about it when I can. I’m heavily medicated so I’d rather have the post make sense then seem like scrabble tiles being thrown into random groups.

I feel like I should feel some deep emotions over what happened but I, oddly, have not been my reflective self or analyzing the shit out of it. It happened. I had a strange experience during it. It wasn’t magical or mystical. It was..... very “nothing much”

I have to go. I’m so tired.

Tracy

Here’s the Deal...

I had my pre-surgery/ early registration stuff done last Friday.

EKG, blood, chest x-rays, urine and all that good stuff. 

During that, a very ME thing happened. 

I could not for the life of me pee. It just was not happening. Why? Well. Because I was on autopilot when we left and I said... oh, gonna pee real quick....

I figured, not a big deal. They’ll do it before my surgery or I’ll drop one off Monday. No. Stay here, drink water, and pee.

They gave me..... 48 ounces of water.

I peed about.... 3oz

Then as I walked out the door... this hospital is set up like some hotels are with a huge middle area and rooms go around it.... well, in this part of the hospital office go around it....

I think to myself, there are people from every vantage point who can see me...oh shit. And that’s when I see them.  A janitor standing next to a trash can. He’s all hanging out looking over the edge and I’m thinking... don’t. Do not do this. Please do not.... shit.... and I run over to the trash can and lose 45 ounces of water and I say, right at the beginning of the process.... I’m so sorry!

This kind gentle man who is not older than me but I know that he has to be from Louisiana because he STAYS there and soothingly says.... you’re ok baby. You got this. That’s right, just get it out. There you go baby girl. 

His kindness was extraordinary and I was grateful for it.

I ran to the bathroom after that and wanted to never come out. 

Tuesday is my surgery. It’s a pretty big and painful one and I’m scared. I don’t like anesthesia and have told everyone with ears to not, do not, ever, give me morphine or we will all regret it. Morphine does not work for me, even a little, and gives me migraines. No bueno!!

I’ll be in for probably just one night which is good because I want to be at home. I love our home so much!!!! 

Bonus, Monday is Christmas Tree day at our house so I’ll obviously want to come back to that.

Here’s the thing.

Five years ago I had a very similar surgery and wanted so badly to tell EVERYONE I loved that I love them before surgery.

If I’d never had the chance to know a bear, I’d be so sad. If I didn’t know that rush and silence as the world continued to spin but it felt as though time had slowed down to bring out the most of every touch and kiss and whisper, I would be desperately sad over the hole that would have been empty forever in my heart. Most people will never know what I know and just how much it’s always been worth to me. I’ll always be grateful. I love you.

See you round the moon

Me

Psychiatrist

I hired a new psychiatrist Wednesday.

To be honest, that black box antibiotic broke more than just the tendon in my jaw. I started having several panic attacks per day.

In case you’ve never ridden the roller coaster of panic, let me explain what it feels like “for me”
Tiny things can set it off... loud noises, heat, light, people or nothing at all. I feel it coming like a wave. First I feel 20 degrees hotter, I stop being able to hear anything except for, say the tv, everything else sounds like Charlie Brown’s teacher, I can’t breathe, I sweat like I just busted through the Black Friday line at target and I feel the fight or flight so badly that I could probably wrestle a bear or run faster than a cheetah. It’s paralyzing.

The new psychiatrist said that she works the intake of a psychiatric hospital and has seen people on that antibiotic who do not have a history of any mental illness come in having a psychotic break. Hearing voices, seeing things that aren’t there. Needing to be strapped down and reeling through a mental downward spiral.

I guess a torn jaw tendon and paralyzing panic is better than that. So, there’s that. Silver lining!

Here’s where I’m proud of myself. Everyone knows the rules right? You answer questions in such a way that you will not be hospitalized. Do not freak the doctor out with your suicidal thoughts or talk about how bleak you’re feeling. Throw in a joke here and there and make it back out the door.

I decided going in that for the first time in my life I would answer honestly. No, I’m not suicidal. Do I feel like if I happened to die that it would be alright? Sometimes. Do these panic attacks feel like I’ve died and this is my hell? Frankly, yes. Do I cry... a lot. Yup. Do I self medicate? No. But the option is on the table.

And she was kind. I didn’t look her in the eyes at all except for one time and that one time, she wouldn’t look away first. It was.... hard. One feels ashamed that their brain is controlling them and they don’t have the ability to tell it what to do. Shape up, Mother Fucker!! I’ve had enough of your shit!

Ah, if only.

Still, I’ve been around this dark amusement park long enough to recognize the signs of when to get help. Robb reminded me that that is a good thing. My husband is a rock. I asked him to read a book that really struck me and says what I can’t say and he did. And he asked what I wanted out of him reading it and I told him.... I want you to know, don’t give me advice on how to “fix it” that will not, does not, never will be, helpful. Just.... be. Sit with me. Touch me in some small way... not a hug, I already feel trapped in my head.. just a finger on my hand. Let me find my breath.

And it’s been a lifesaver.

So, I recommend The Valedictorian of Being Dead: The True Story of  Dying Ten Times To Live by Heather B Armstrong

I’ve followed her blog, Dooce, for over 15 years and felt like I knew her by the time she wrote this book this year and I highly recommend it to anyone who can’t find the words to describe what depression feels like and for close friends and family members of those people.

It made me call and make an appointment to help me find my joy after that stupid drug broke me.

Love you,

Tracy

Want to hear something crazy?

Mid Century Modern

That’s the term for the type of furniture that’s popular now. Do you know what mid century modern is, like, WHEN in time I’m speaking of?

Mid 20th Century!

1950, 1960, 1970

What the actual fuck?

In, let’s say, 1989, if I’d said that exact same phrase, mid century ( minus the modern, I guess) we would be talking about the mid 1800’s!

At what point did I get so old that I’m an antique collectible?

Whoa!! That is crazy!

Anyway, I have a post coming up. I want to talk about where I am now. Emotionally. It’s good. I feel the sun on my face. So much has changed in my life. It feels good to have left my old blog to be what it is. I’m glad to have this new space.

Tracy