Everyone has good weeks. Everyone has bad weeks. I am no exception.
It seems, however, that I have more than my share of bad weeks. I really do try and stay positive and rise above it, which makes me feel so sad when people try to tear me down for not being a more positive person, and I know there are so many people out there that have it so much worse than me, and my heart and soul hurt for them. Nobody knows what another person is going through.
But let me have a moment. I deserve to have my own moment, just one moment, when it seems that everything has gone wrong, and maybe get a tiny bit of props for just weathering the storm that descended upon me.
Before you judge me, let me tell about a week I had a couple of months ago.
I booked a little trip to Florida. I was SO excited. I had not been anywhere in many years. The past four years I have spent dealing with hip replacements/issues. Many surgeries/hospitalizations/nursing homes. Not much fun really, so I was really looking forward to a few days of fun in the sun with my wonderful cousin.
About a week before I was to leave, my back started to cause me some issues. I tried to baby it and ignore it as much as possible, but it got worse by the day. I really didn’t want to cancel my trip, so I soldiered on. I arrived ok and my vacation started off with a great evening! The next day, though, things started to go horribly wrong.
I fell. I fell pretty bad. One moment I was getting out of the car, the next I was flat on the sidewalk. I don’t really know exactly how I fell. I was in a hurry to catch a train. At first I thought I tripped. But later, I realized that my sciatica leg most likely gave out on me, as it had prior to my trip. So, I fell. I remember thinking, oh shit, this is NOT going to end well. I purposely fell straight forward, because I didn’t want to land on my hip. So my poor hand took the brunt of the fall. But the brain works in mysterious ways. I fell, and immediately felt the pain of my hand, and looked at my fingers, and they were all bent this way and that way. My first thought was, get up and get on the train, and you can worry about bending your fingers back then. Then I made the mistake of wondering where all the blood was coming from. I turned my hand over, and a lady who had run over to help me had to turn around and walk away. Let’s just say it wasn’t pretty. A lot of blood and bone. Open dislocations I believe they call it. Luckily my friend who was with me kept her wits about her (love her so much) and ran to get some tissues to wrap around my hand. A nice young gent helped me get up and wanted to call an ambulance, but my friend insisted upon taking me to the Level I trauma center. Thank goodness. It was quite a night, a painful night. Try getting double dislocated fingers pulled out when the whole back side of your fingers are open bleeding wounds and the multiple Novocaine shots are not working. Ouch. Did I say ouch? My poor cousin had to drive a long way to come and get me, and my poor friend had to spend her evening with me in an ER. So, after getting relocated (or undislocated), stitched up, and casted, I was on my way again, lol. However, the drug store would not fill my pain med Rx because I had one on file back at home. Where my pills were. Back at home. Ouch. Did I say ouch?
I actually had a good time the rest of my vacation. My cousin took great care of me. We went for massages and wined and dined. I do feel bad, however, because I did complain a few times. I think I was crazed with pain. I made it home ok, had help on the plane from a nice young gent (again). My co-worker picked me up from the airport and I went straight to work. I lasted a few hours, and went home. Next morning I was at the cancer infusion center to get a Crohn’s infusion. 5 tries for the IV. Ouch. Did I say ouch? Then I went to the hand surgeon, where they manipulated my fingers around looking for nerve/tendon damage. Ouch. Did I say ouch? Next day I was back at work in bionic metal fingers. Day after that I was in the ER once again, not able to walk anymore. My back just gave up the ghost at that point. ER tried 6 times for the IV. In the same veins. Ouch. Did I say ouch?
Once they took me to a room a specialist came in and put in a mid-line IV. Not fun. So not fun. They try to numb you up, but they have to go deep. Ouch. Did I say ouch? So there I was, flat on my back, with open wounds on my fingers that had to taken care of, and a new herniated disk. Ok fine. The pain management doc couldn’t take me for an injection for a few days. Ok fine. So my Crohn’s Disease (inflammatory bowel disease) decided to join in the fun. With a vengeance.
Let me define, with a vengeance. It means having to get up out of bed, with one hand, and severe pain upon standing where you are immobile for a few minutes until the electrical shocks running down your legs subside enough that you can bear weight, and then shuffling off to the bathroom with a cane. Every half hour. With a buzzer on your bed so you can’t get out without assistance. So you have to wait for someone to come. Or just let the alarms go off. They come quicker then, lol. I’m not even going to say ouch at this point. It was so much more than that.
Finally get my injection into my spine. Always fun. Even though they inject you with Novocaine, it’s still needles. In your spine. And you need multiple injections, until they get it in the right spot. But once they hit that sweet spot, the relief comes quickly. By the next day, I was feeling better.
Once again a co-worker came to pick me up, and took me back to work. I worked for a few hours, and then went home. And went about the business of trying to live my life again, living alone, in a house with many stairs.
I’ve got to say, I am SO over the ouch. Or ouches in my case. And this has been happening to me, off and on, for 4 years now. I try SO. DAMN. HARD to stay positive and smiling through it all. Sometimes it gets to be too much. Sometimes maybe I become grumpy at times, or don’t “act” like I should. Sometimes maybe I get angry at the situation. Sometimes maybe I feel sorry for myself. But mostly, I just am sad. Sad that people don’t understand. I have actually been accused of doing this all to get attention. Seriously. Sigh. But I understand. I don’t like to be around myself either sometimes. I guess I can understand why people get tired of me. But you don’t have to be a mean girl about it. Just saying.
I am trying to be proactive now, and take steps to remove myself from this situation. The sad parts, anyway. I need to stay away from toxic people. I need to learn that it’s ok if people don’t like me, not everybody has to. I need to make some positive changes in my life, that will help me, instead of continuing to hurt me. The emotional pain is SO much worse than any physical pain I have endured. That is the real ouch.
So what is the meaning of all this blathering on? I just wanted to share a week of my life, which wasn’t the best week of my life, but it wasn’t the worst week either. It does sound unbelievable. But you can’t make this shit up. I wish it was made up.
So if you see me and I am not little Miss Sunshine, please believe when I say I wish I could be that way all the time. I will try not to be a drama queen. I spend most of my time alone in my home. And that is fine with me. I am learning to love myself, despite my flaws. And I’m really not alone, I have Ozzy, Izzy and Mickey Moo to keep me company. Pets are great. They love you unconditionally, and don’t judge you.
P.S. Today I have to go for another injection in my back, as the electrical shocks are becoming unbearable again. For realz. Ouch. Did I say ouch?
P.S.S. And I am booked to go to Florida again in another week or so. Let’s hope this “trip” goes better!