I have purple hair and am not at my best.

Hello interweb friends. I hope everyone had a glorious end to their summer. Mine went by really fast even with recovery. It is now "fall" here in Texas at 80 degrees.
It's been way too long since I've written for various reasons I am too tired and too drained to recount here. For those that don't know me personally, my summer after surgery was a struggle, my trip was AMAZING with my family at the beach and school started with little fuss.

I have purple hair because, why not? If not now, when? So let's do this. 
I just had my 2 year anniversary of my original JPouch connection. So many mixed emotions and struggles continue to this day. Never having answers. Daily pain. Not feeling like I can plan or do what I want way too often and just continuous issues. Well, I am missing a major organ so my surprise is pretty naive. Life and your body functioning just can't work correctly missing something like a colon. My Jpouch is a slight replacement for it. The shittiest of substitutes and lacking functionality. It's annoying. I'm pissed. I'm tired. My pouchitis was/is back along with another fissure. So that would be approximately 3 months post op. Way too fast for that to have happened. Again. Considering my last ostomy was to rest my guts from chronic pouchitis. Discouraging isn't quite the word for any of it. In fact, I have nothing in my vocabulary arsenal to adequately describe my feelings to all you "normal" people.
I went into this blog post considering whether to express my positive "go get 'em" face or the real shit I have been struggling with the last 6 months or so. Not to say everything was great prior, but the last 6 months have just been eating at me. In terms of therapy, getting to be with my parents and siblings and all the nonsense that goes with our families was above and beyond anything else I could have tried. That week went too fast. I think I needed two. If I had to move back to the beach and breath the salt air daily it would be so great. I felt so much better too. Salt air fixes everything. And a giant, insane Italian family.
Anyway, I feel like I'm in this shitty, dark place in my head. I don't like myself much. After being out here almost 5 years, I have a handful of acquaintances who are great and I see now and then but don't have that support system of people that everyone needs. I don't have girls I go out with or call to whine or complain to or go get my nails done with or shop with. I don't have a hobby bc honestly after the time I put into school, my pain, my kids, the house, a hobby is more energy than I can spend.  I don't even know who I am anymore many times. I say "me" but in my head I'm referring to this pre-sick person not the current person. The current me is no where near the me in my head that I refer to in a delusion. It's maddening. It makes me sad. Illness aside, I went from always jumping at opportunity and being busy living, to not living my life. To limiting my experiences. And I hate it to my core.
I will never get my sick time back. I feel like I need to double down on time now. Make up for time in the hossie, time recovering from surgery and time where pain just wore me out. There's way too much I want to do. Too many places to see and things to experience. Laughter to be had and people to meet. I don't know. I feel like my life has been in limbo for quite a while. It was one thing being really sick, or in the hospital or with surgery recovery, but now it's just "chronic every single day, I can't win" pain and issues that impact my life. The mental exhaustion from the realization of how long it's been going on, what things I've missed or what I avoid, is huge. 

I don't mean to be a Debbie downer but it is exhausting trying to be "ok" all the time. To smile and make small talk when you want to lay in bed and wait for five minutes of feeling ok. It just sucks the life out of you. So there you have it. I really would love to always be upbeat and positive and looking forward to things but in all honesty that's rare and I'm miserable and life can suck it, big time. In the best way possible of course. I see my surgeon Thursday to tell him things still suck. Trying to live while in pain is the biggest suckfest. I think about going to Europe one day and it's depressing because of all the food I will not enjoy because if I do my trip will be ruined.  I swear there are days I could scream. But I'm too damn tired. 

Hello interweb friends. I hope everyone had a glorious end to their summer. Mine went by really fast even with recovery. It is now "fall" here in Texas at 80 degrees.
It's been way too long since I've written for various reasons I am too tired and too drained to recount here. For those that don't know me personally, my summer after surgery was a struggle, my trip was AMAZING with my family at the beach and school started with little fuss.

I have purple hair because, why not? If not now, when? So let's do this. 
I just had my 2 year anniversary of my original JPouch connection. So many mixed emotions and struggles continue to this day. Never having answers. Daily pain. Not feeling like I can plan or do what I want way too often and just continuous issues. Well, I am missing a major organ so my surprise is pretty naive. Life and your body functioning just can't work correctly missing something like a colon. My Jpouch is a slight replacement for it. The shittiest of substitutes and lacking functionality. It's annoying. I'm pissed. I'm tired. My pouchitis was/is back along with another fissure. So that would be approximately 3 months post op. Way too fast for that to have happened. Again. Considering my last ostomy was to rest my guts from chronic pouchitis. Discouraging isn't quite the word for any of it. In fact, I have nothing in my vocabulary arsenal to adequately describe my feelings to all you "normal" people.
I went into this blog post considering whether to express my positive "go get 'em" face or the real shit I have been struggling with the last 6 months or so. Not to say everything was great prior, but the last 6 months have just been eating at me. In terms of therapy, getting to be with my parents and siblings and all the nonsense that goes with our families was above and beyond anything else I could have tried. That week went too fast. I think I needed two. If I had to move back to the beach and breath the salt air daily it would be so great. I felt so much better too. Salt air fixes everything. And a giant, insane Italian family.
Anyway, I feel like I'm in this shitty, dark place in my head. I don't like myself much. After being out here almost 5 years, I have a handful of acquaintances who are great and I see now and then but don't have that support system of people that everyone needs. I don't have girls I go out with or call to whine or complain to or go get my nails done with or shop with. I don't have a hobby bc honestly after the time I put into school, my pain, my kids, the house, a hobby is more energy than I can spend.  I don't even know who I am anymore many times. I say "me" but in my head I'm referring to this pre-sick person not the current person. The current me is no where near the me in my head that I refer to in a delusion. It's maddening. It makes me sad. Illness aside, I went from always jumping at opportunity and being busy living, to not living my life. To limiting my experiences. And I hate it to my core.
I will never get my sick time back. I feel like I need to double down on time now. Make up for time in the hossie, time recovering from surgery and time where pain just wore me out. There's way too much I want to do. Too many places to see and things to experience. Laughter to be had and people to meet. I don't know. I feel like my life has been in limbo for quite a while. It was one thing being really sick, or in the hospital or with surgery recovery, but now it's just "chronic every single day, I can't win" pain and issues that impact my life. The mental exhaustion from the realization of how long it's been going on, what things I've missed or what I avoid, is huge. 

I don't mean to be a Debbie downer but it is exhausting trying to be "ok" all the time. To smile and make small talk when you want to lay in bed and wait for five minutes of feeling ok. It just sucks the life out of you. So there you have it. I really would love to always be upbeat and positive and looking forward to things but in all honesty that's rare and I'm miserable and life can suck it, big time. In the best way possible of course. I see my surgeon Thursday to tell him things still suck. Trying to live while in pain is the biggest suckfest. I think about going to Europe one day and it's depressing because of all the food I will not enjoy because if I do my trip will be ruined.  I swear there are days I could scream. But I'm too damn tired. 

Who's life is this anyway?

Well, it has come to this. I waited a bit after surgery to write because I just wasn't up to it and have not been really happy with everything about myself.
My week in the hospital was HORRIBLE. HORRIBLE. It took forever to get going because my one surgeon AND the anesthesiologist got stuck in another surgery at a different hospital. So I sat around like this, in pain, for HOURS. Hungry. Anxious. Freezing. In asshole Christmas socks.

But then they finally showed up and I got good drugs. Oh and 2 units of blood. Naturally. My hemoglobin was in the 6s. Yeah. How I don't pass out on a regular basis is beyond me. 

****Do me a favor people. Donate blood. Even if it's once a year. I've officially had enough units to replace 100% of my blood volume. And I've never been able to give back because of meds or because it's too close to the most recent transfusion. So please. Go do it for me.****

Then it was go time. Slice and dice. Again. Done. Over it. 

Post OP they could not get my pain under control for almost 48 hours. I was at a 10/10 the first night into the next day. I wanted someone to just shoot me in the head. My PCA wouldn't light up fast enough. My EVA from WALL-E. A little magic button of pain relief. Here I am stoned. Yet still in pain. It just wasn't enough.

I can't even describe it. Internal pain, external incision pain, pain from the new stoma, my stomach screaming at me because it hadn't had anything in it in almost 48 hours. Not even an ice chip. If I could have strangled someone with my IV lines I would have. But it hurt too much to move. Plus it's really tough getting an IV going on me so I didn't want to risk losing one. While I was under the anesthesiologist gave me a "back up" IV because I blow IVs like it's my job with my shitty little veins. Then I crossed into ileus which is when your guts aren't entirely awake yet after surgery. Paralysis. So they gave me the ok for liquids and I couldn't help myself. JELLO!!! The apple juice was the greatest thing I'd ever had. By this time I hadn't eaten or drank in 3 days. Here is what sent me into a personal hell for 48 hours. Mind you that's about all I ate. Maybe 3 tiny bites. And I paid for it for 2 days.

 The intestinal pain started because some things were working and some weren't. Then I started barfing my brains out. Violent and disgusting. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced and I'm pretty sure I wanted to die. Again. I missed getting an NG tube by the skin of my teeth. That's when they put a tube down your nose and throat into your stomach and suck everything out so you aren't getting sick anymore. I just couldn't handle that on top of everything else. So I kept puking and crying and dealing with the pain and sickness hoping it would stop. My colorectal surgeon gave me until the next morning and then I was getting one put in. The ileus has the same symptoms of a blockage so he was getting worried. My nurses must have thought I was nuts. They told me to get one. Easy for them to say. Luckily it passed. I could sip a little bit while on Zofram and Phenergan and be ok, so I got through it without one more invasive event happening.
So then finally after the 5th day I felt like I was moving toward recovery. I was finally walking and Hubs and Daughter #2 joined me with her balloon gloves.

Anyway- I've been crabby. This hospital stay crossed some emotional line with me. Maybe because it was multiple procedures in one. Maybe because I thought the hospital sucked. Half my nurses thought I'd only had a hysterectomy. The other half an ileostomy. In my week there I didn't meet one person (aside from my surgeons) who were aware I had multiple procedures in my surgery. One shift of nurses didn't even acknowledge my OBGYN as a doctor. I needed a new gown and was so out of it. So on one of her visits she buzzed and asked them where the gowns were. They pointed. Oh yeah. Pointed. That went over like a lead balloon. She proceeded to stay with me for an hour just talking to me. Changed my gown herself and took care of me. She is seriously the best doctor I have ever met. Popped in on her off Saturday with her DAUGHTER to check on me. Her partner was on call but she came anyway because she was worried about me. She's amazing. But I digress. I've been feeling beaten and defeated. I don't want to do this shit anymore. I've had it. I've had it with recovery. With being cut open. With scars and pain and hospitals. HAD IT. My FrankenBelly is worse. It is hideous. They cut through scar tissue so it just aches. My stoma is bleeding around the outside. Here's my new Stupid Stoma. I will say having already had one, the adjustment to it has been leaps and bounds better. I'm emotionally removed from the event. I am having some minor skin issues but I think I'm top of it since I've done this before. He moved it closer to my belly button this time which kinda pissed me off because it's really hard getting a good seal on your wafer with the crevice of your belly button so close to the stoma. But I'm small and he has to put it in a certain spot based on abdominals (that I barely have anyway) so his choices are limited.

It hurts all around it internally. I have sharp internal pain where my sausage fallopian tube was. It's probably just tissue that's healing but it hurts likes a bitch. I don't know. Sometimes I seriously don't know how the hell I continually go through this crap and keep it together. I'm close to losing it I think.
I was going to go to NY after Christmas to go to my Aunt's wedding. Then the surgery got pushed to December so I couldn't. The wedding was last night and seeing the pictures today have made me really sad and really prompted me finally writing this post. I'm sick of things interfering with MY life and what I want to do. So I missed my Aunt's wedding and I'm sad about it. I don't DO anything. My pain and surgeries and issues rule my activities, or lack thereof. WTF am I doing? I know I've said it before but it seriously like years of my life have slipped away. There's always something that is a roadblock to me living. This year Christmas was a wreck because I was in recovery mode. So I couldn't do what I wanted. I've lost almost 10lbs and I'm tired. I'm dehydrated. Making dinner killed me for 3 days. I definitely overdid it last week with my mom and stepdad here. I didn't even do much but I overdid it. What was I supposed to do? Lay in bed with people in town? I mean what the hell. Something has to give. Not to mention what I spend on meds and now will be spending on ostomy supplies for the next few months. I'm in a funk. I hate myself. I'm exhausted. I'm hurting. It's another month gone. Another winter I didn't go to a tropical island with my husband. Another event I missed.
On top of it, I have incompletes in my classes because I couldn't take my finals. So I will have to deal with that in the next few weeks. Kind of nervous. The hiatus probably did nothing for my retention. Sucks. Just sucks.
So yeah. That's me. Crabby. Cut up. No motivation. I feel more broken than ever. And you know what literally feels like a stab in the chest? I shouldn't say it because everything is relative but that fact doesn't change how it makes me feel. It kills me when people complain about the smallest thing. It's really hard to hear people complain about how absolutely miserable they are with a head cold, their flight is delayed or whatever when I'm stapled shut AGAIN and my kids and their holiday impacted by that fact. People take their health for granted so much. Take their abilities for granted. Jumping up and playing with their kids. Spending hours making cookies. Shopping for that perfect gift. Actually being able to get on a plane to travel. I'd take a 7 hour delay to be able to go away but it seems I never can. Pop some alka seltzer for your cold. Have some drinks at the airport and people watch. Be grateful you don't have chronic pain. Or have been gutted more than once. Or have kids who are used to you being sick and in the hospital. =(  Sorry, like I said I know everything is relative but I can't help it. I would have killed to have had some of the "problems" some people have had over the holidays. That's my reality. I don't know when it'll change or if it ever will. I don't know that this temporary ostomy will work. Maybe my guts don't know how to be healthy. Maybe my pouchitis and flares will come back after my NEXT surgery. It's all a crap shoot. I know this though... at some point I will do what I want anyway whether it be while in pain or during recovery or whatever because I have had it with my life not feeling like mine. I go days without going outside. I've become the anti-Lisa. I am so far from who I was and I can only hope that these years of bullshit haven't erased all of it. I already feel a big part of me not caring. Of letting opportunities pass by because it will take so much out of me to make it happen. That was never me. If I won a vacation tomorrow there is a part of me that wouldn't care. That would assume I couldn't do it, or it would be too much work or I'd get there and not be able to do what I wanted. It sucks. That negative fog just keeps trying to creep around and win. I just need one good stretch of time where I don't have any issues and I know it would go away. I just need to get there. Maybe in 2014.
Thanks for reading. Hope everyone had a wonderful whatever holiday they celebrate. Happy New Year.
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Well, it has come to this. I waited a bit after surgery to write because I just wasn't up to it and have not been really happy with everything about myself.
My week in the hospital was HORRIBLE. HORRIBLE. It took forever to get going because my one surgeon AND the anesthesiologist got stuck in another surgery at a different hospital. So I sat around like this, in pain, for HOURS. Hungry. Anxious. Freezing. In asshole Christmas socks.

But then they finally showed up and I got good drugs. Oh and 2 units of blood. Naturally. My hemoglobin was in the 6s. Yeah. How I don't pass out on a regular basis is beyond me. 

****Do me a favor people. Donate blood. Even if it's once a year. I've officially had enough units to replace 100% of my blood volume. And I've never been able to give back because of meds or because it's too close to the most recent transfusion. So please. Go do it for me.****

Then it was go time. Slice and dice. Again. Done. Over it. 

Post OP they could not get my pain under control for almost 48 hours. I was at a 10/10 the first night into the next day. I wanted someone to just shoot me in the head. My PCA wouldn't light up fast enough. My EVA from WALL-E. A little magic button of pain relief. Here I am stoned. Yet still in pain. It just wasn't enough.

I can't even describe it. Internal pain, external incision pain, pain from the new stoma, my stomach screaming at me because it hadn't had anything in it in almost 48 hours. Not even an ice chip. If I could have strangled someone with my IV lines I would have. But it hurt too much to move. Plus it's really tough getting an IV going on me so I didn't want to risk losing one. While I was under the anesthesiologist gave me a "back up" IV because I blow IVs like it's my job with my shitty little veins. Then I crossed into ileus which is when your guts aren't entirely awake yet after surgery. Paralysis. So they gave me the ok for liquids and I couldn't help myself. JELLO!!! The apple juice was the greatest thing I'd ever had. By this time I hadn't eaten or drank in 3 days. Here is what sent me into a personal hell for 48 hours. Mind you that's about all I ate. Maybe 3 tiny bites. And I paid for it for 2 days.

 The intestinal pain started because some things were working and some weren't. Then I started barfing my brains out. Violent and disgusting. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced and I'm pretty sure I wanted to die. Again. I missed getting an NG tube by the skin of my teeth. That's when they put a tube down your nose and throat into your stomach and suck everything out so you aren't getting sick anymore. I just couldn't handle that on top of everything else. So I kept puking and crying and dealing with the pain and sickness hoping it would stop. My colorectal surgeon gave me until the next morning and then I was getting one put in. The ileus has the same symptoms of a blockage so he was getting worried. My nurses must have thought I was nuts. They told me to get one. Easy for them to say. Luckily it passed. I could sip a little bit while on Zofram and Phenergan and be ok, so I got through it without one more invasive event happening.
So then finally after the 5th day I felt like I was moving toward recovery. I was finally walking and Hubs and Daughter #2 joined me with her balloon gloves.

Anyway- I've been crabby. This hospital stay crossed some emotional line with me. Maybe because it was multiple procedures in one. Maybe because I thought the hospital sucked. Half my nurses thought I'd only had a hysterectomy. The other half an ileostomy. In my week there I didn't meet one person (aside from my surgeons) who were aware I had multiple procedures in my surgery. One shift of nurses didn't even acknowledge my OBGYN as a doctor. I needed a new gown and was so out of it. So on one of her visits she buzzed and asked them where the gowns were. They pointed. Oh yeah. Pointed. That went over like a lead balloon. She proceeded to stay with me for an hour just talking to me. Changed my gown herself and took care of me. She is seriously the best doctor I have ever met. Popped in on her off Saturday with her DAUGHTER to check on me. Her partner was on call but she came anyway because she was worried about me. She's amazing. But I digress. I've been feeling beaten and defeated. I don't want to do this shit anymore. I've had it. I've had it with recovery. With being cut open. With scars and pain and hospitals. HAD IT. My FrankenBelly is worse. It is hideous. They cut through scar tissue so it just aches. My stoma is bleeding around the outside. Here's my new Stupid Stoma. I will say having already had one, the adjustment to it has been leaps and bounds better. I'm emotionally removed from the event. I am having some minor skin issues but I think I'm top of it since I've done this before. He moved it closer to my belly button this time which kinda pissed me off because it's really hard getting a good seal on your wafer with the crevice of your belly button so close to the stoma. But I'm small and he has to put it in a certain spot based on abdominals (that I barely have anyway) so his choices are limited.

It hurts all around it internally. I have sharp internal pain where my sausage fallopian tube was. It's probably just tissue that's healing but it hurts likes a bitch. I don't know. Sometimes I seriously don't know how the hell I continually go through this crap and keep it together. I'm close to losing it I think.
I was going to go to NY after Christmas to go to my Aunt's wedding. Then the surgery got pushed to December so I couldn't. The wedding was last night and seeing the pictures today have made me really sad and really prompted me finally writing this post. I'm sick of things interfering with MY life and what I want to do. So I missed my Aunt's wedding and I'm sad about it. I don't DO anything. My pain and surgeries and issues rule my activities, or lack thereof. WTF am I doing? I know I've said it before but it seriously like years of my life have slipped away. There's always something that is a roadblock to me living. This year Christmas was a wreck because I was in recovery mode. So I couldn't do what I wanted. I've lost almost 10lbs and I'm tired. I'm dehydrated. Making dinner killed me for 3 days. I definitely overdid it last week with my mom and stepdad here. I didn't even do much but I overdid it. What was I supposed to do? Lay in bed with people in town? I mean what the hell. Something has to give. Not to mention what I spend on meds and now will be spending on ostomy supplies for the next few months. I'm in a funk. I hate myself. I'm exhausted. I'm hurting. It's another month gone. Another winter I didn't go to a tropical island with my husband. Another event I missed.
On top of it, I have incompletes in my classes because I couldn't take my finals. So I will have to deal with that in the next few weeks. Kind of nervous. The hiatus probably did nothing for my retention. Sucks. Just sucks.
So yeah. That's me. Crabby. Cut up. No motivation. I feel more broken than ever. And you know what literally feels like a stab in the chest? I shouldn't say it because everything is relative but that fact doesn't change how it makes me feel. It kills me when people complain about the smallest thing. It's really hard to hear people complain about how absolutely miserable they are with a head cold, their flight is delayed or whatever when I'm stapled shut AGAIN and my kids and their holiday impacted by that fact. People take their health for granted so much. Take their abilities for granted. Jumping up and playing with their kids. Spending hours making cookies. Shopping for that perfect gift. Actually being able to get on a plane to travel. I'd take a 7 hour delay to be able to go away but it seems I never can. Pop some alka seltzer for your cold. Have some drinks at the airport and people watch. Be grateful you don't have chronic pain. Or have been gutted more than once. Or have kids who are used to you being sick and in the hospital. =(  Sorry, like I said I know everything is relative but I can't help it. I would have killed to have had some of the "problems" some people have had over the holidays. That's my reality. I don't know when it'll change or if it ever will. I don't know that this temporary ostomy will work. Maybe my guts don't know how to be healthy. Maybe my pouchitis and flares will come back after my NEXT surgery. It's all a crap shoot. I know this though... at some point I will do what I want anyway whether it be while in pain or during recovery or whatever because I have had it with my life not feeling like mine. I go days without going outside. I've become the anti-Lisa. I am so far from who I was and I can only hope that these years of bullshit haven't erased all of it. I already feel a big part of me not caring. Of letting opportunities pass by because it will take so much out of me to make it happen. That was never me. If I won a vacation tomorrow there is a part of me that wouldn't care. That would assume I couldn't do it, or it would be too much work or I'd get there and not be able to do what I wanted. It sucks. That negative fog just keeps trying to creep around and win. I just need one good stretch of time where I don't have any issues and I know it would go away. I just need to get there. Maybe in 2014.
Thanks for reading. Hope everyone had a wonderful whatever holiday they celebrate. Happy New Year.
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Can you be present with pain?

Hello hello internet world. I have not disappeared. I don't know what's been up with me the last few weeks. Just feeling uninspired about myself in general. Bummed out. Slightly depressed. It's frustrating. Trying to get my act together and fight through daily pain and still be PRESENT. It's tough. Pain makes me disengage. Check out. Or I get in a funk where I'm beating myself up mentally. Feeling bad about myself. I can be a hardcore Debbie Downer when I want to be. I'm going to be 36 in September. I am really down about the fact that I feel so unaccomplished the last few years. Where the hell did the time go? It goes in a flash, especially when you are chronically sick or in pain. You have nothing to show for it. It feels like I laid in bed,  or was in hospitals for the majority of the time and wasting a perfectly good life. This was not my plan. Planning is such a joke. This summer is half over already and I feel like it's disappeared. As I wrote about last post, I've been a big fail. I was starting to feel a little better but now it's just back to being crap.
I'm not working anymore. My surgeon kept extending my leave and I'll be having some other procedures soon that will require recovery and all that time just made me unreliable and a let down. It wasn't fair to my boss to just be in limbo about my status. She was so wonderful and understanding. I felt so disappointing. I still do. Many, many days I went into work in a lot of pain, struggling to get through a 5 hour shift. In the short time I worked there I went home early a couple times, and had to call in a couple. Very frustrating. Just another example of my body completely failing me. It is not something I can get used to. The thing is, it's not that I can't do something, it's the level of pain I fight while doing it, or the time to recover afterward. That's what knocks me out emotionally. It's just not fair.
My little girl turned 2 last week. She is a handful. Everyday I think I will get past this and to a better place before she gets to a point where she starts remembering. I'm tired of being lame mom. I never was. It's really hard to wrap my brain around it. Like I said- being more present. Fighting yourself to try to be that way. Many days I find distractions to waste time so I'm not focused on hurting or what I CAN'T do.
I was thinking the other day about things I used to do. I used to write. Poems, short stories... I wrote tons of them. I wonder why I stopped? That makes me a little sad. Somewhere along the line of having kids and getting sick I've lost all these little parts of me. Sometimes you don't notice until it's been years and you lost a bunch of them. I think reconnecting with 'me' would be a big help. I don't really go out of my way for time or activities for myself very often. Out with a friend occasionally. Out with Mat almost never unless we have random family in town to watch the kids. I stopped working out a million years ago because I was a sickly mess. Traveling on hold. I don't even really shop anymore! I know, right!! No shopping?? It's a crazy world, living like this. You feel great one day so you over do it and then pay for 3 days after. My semester starts soon and I just hope it won't be too much. I just want to finish and move on.... but then in the back of my head I think, "Well at this rate would I be able to work when I'm done?". Am I back in school for nothing because this shitty disease is going to sideline me forever? I would hope not, but imagine just not knowing? It sucks, big time. See- Debbie Downer. Piss, piss, pisser. I used to LOVE life. I was all in. Where did it stop? I hate that. I don't like myself much right now.
On a positive front, I don't have dysplasia. The wonderful pathologist made a typo. Yeah. Jackass. A TYPO. Thanks for that two weeks of stress, biatch. It was awesome.
Ok.. now that I've bummed everyone out big time and ruined your night, I will end. Sorry I was not entertaining and was so crappy. I'm just so blah about myself. I need something to shift and soon. As always, thanks for reading. I promise- more smiles next time!

Hello hello internet world. I have not disappeared. I don't know what's been up with me the last few weeks. Just feeling uninspired about myself in general. Bummed out. Slightly depressed. It's frustrating. Trying to get my act together and fight through daily pain and still be PRESENT. It's tough. Pain makes me disengage. Check out. Or I get in a funk where I'm beating myself up mentally. Feeling bad about myself. I can be a hardcore Debbie Downer when I want to be. I'm going to be 36 in September. I am really down about the fact that I feel so unaccomplished the last few years. Where the hell did the time go? It goes in a flash, especially when you are chronically sick or in pain. You have nothing to show for it. It feels like I laid in bed,  or was in hospitals for the majority of the time and wasting a perfectly good life. This was not my plan. Planning is such a joke. This summer is half over already and I feel like it's disappeared. As I wrote about last post, I've been a big fail. I was starting to feel a little better but now it's just back to being crap.
I'm not working anymore. My surgeon kept extending my leave and I'll be having some other procedures soon that will require recovery and all that time just made me unreliable and a let down. It wasn't fair to my boss to just be in limbo about my status. She was so wonderful and understanding. I felt so disappointing. I still do. Many, many days I went into work in a lot of pain, struggling to get through a 5 hour shift. In the short time I worked there I went home early a couple times, and had to call in a couple. Very frustrating. Just another example of my body completely failing me. It is not something I can get used to. The thing is, it's not that I can't do something, it's the level of pain I fight while doing it, or the time to recover afterward. That's what knocks me out emotionally. It's just not fair.
My little girl turned 2 last week. She is a handful. Everyday I think I will get past this and to a better place before she gets to a point where she starts remembering. I'm tired of being lame mom. I never was. It's really hard to wrap my brain around it. Like I said- being more present. Fighting yourself to try to be that way. Many days I find distractions to waste time so I'm not focused on hurting or what I CAN'T do.
I was thinking the other day about things I used to do. I used to write. Poems, short stories... I wrote tons of them. I wonder why I stopped? That makes me a little sad. Somewhere along the line of having kids and getting sick I've lost all these little parts of me. Sometimes you don't notice until it's been years and you lost a bunch of them. I think reconnecting with 'me' would be a big help. I don't really go out of my way for time or activities for myself very often. Out with a friend occasionally. Out with Mat almost never unless we have random family in town to watch the kids. I stopped working out a million years ago because I was a sickly mess. Traveling on hold. I don't even really shop anymore! I know, right!! No shopping?? It's a crazy world, living like this. You feel great one day so you over do it and then pay for 3 days after. My semester starts soon and I just hope it won't be too much. I just want to finish and move on.... but then in the back of my head I think, "Well at this rate would I be able to work when I'm done?". Am I back in school for nothing because this shitty disease is going to sideline me forever? I would hope not, but imagine just not knowing? It sucks, big time. See- Debbie Downer. Piss, piss, pisser. I used to LOVE life. I was all in. Where did it stop? I hate that. I don't like myself much right now.
On a positive front, I don't have dysplasia. The wonderful pathologist made a typo. Yeah. Jackass. A TYPO. Thanks for that two weeks of stress, biatch. It was awesome.
Ok.. now that I've bummed everyone out big time and ruined your night, I will end. Sorry I was not entertaining and was so crappy. I'm just so blah about myself. I need something to shift and soon. As always, thanks for reading. I promise- more smiles next time!

#sickmomfail

Guilt. So much guilt comes with being chronically sick and in pain. This is the summer of #sickmomfail. Last summer I was recovering from surgery. This summer was supposed to be my "all in" summer. Nope. In pain. Stoned on pain meds. Laying on my bed playing word games on my phone. I can't imagine being sick like this prior to the digital age. I would have gone nuts. Daughter #1 loves to just GO... and I'm in park. As in parked on my sore ass. I feel like my chronic lameness makes her sad. I know she gets so disappointed. I hate it. I hate not being me. I feel trapped in a body that is defying me. I'm not eating much. I feel lethargic from meds. But let me back up a minute.
I left off needing to see my surgeon about my biopsy and scope results.  So I went last Wednesday and naturally there couldn't be good news. The basic rundown is as follows: I have Pouchitis in my JPouch. I have inflammation and ulceration of the 1cm that's left of my rectum, called the rectal cuff. So it's Cuffitis. My fistula that was opened is still healing and open and painful. And the cherry on top is that I have dysplasia somewhere up in there. By the time he got to that I was upset and didn't get the specifics of where. For those who don't know, dysplasia is abnormal cell growth. Often it is precancerous in nature so the area needs to be taken care of so it doesn't progress to cancer. For those that haven't been reading my blog, I had advanced cervical dysplasia over about 50% of my cervix in 2011 and had to have the area scraped away to prevent it from manifesting into cancer. So now I'm dealing with it somewhere else. Seriously..I have zero shame and modesty left. This must be how porn stars feel... nothing left to hide. So, now my surgeon wants to confer with some super specialist and double check the labs and maybe re-scope me and take new biopsies. HOW FUN!!! WoooooHoooooo! What a fan-fucking-tastic summer so far.
So, now I'm back on a steroid three times a day. This time Entocort. So far I don't notice much change other than the night sweats and being on edge 24/7. I'm used to being on Prednisone which kicks in fast so I know I'm being impatient. I'm also using a nightly suppository which is just a regular party in my ass. Yeah--- so painful, open wound ass and I need to put that through that. It SUCKS. Big time. It's hard too. Like plastic. So all you "I do anal stuff for sexy fun" people are OUT OF YOUR DAMN MINDS. Holy shit. Never.
I'm also still taking Norco for pain and Flagyl for the pouchitis. So, that's my day. Pill popping. Barely eating because it's just not worth it right now. It is truly a big struggle to pull myself together and be normal. I'm not succeeding. I feel useless. I am sad. I hate disappointing my kids. Lots of movies with Daughter #1. I feel so guilty not being 100%. I would love to run around. Can't swim because of the fistula healing. Can't ride bikes. Hurts to move a whole lot. Hurts to sit. The pain pills that normally knock me out at night are now fighting against the steroid induced night sweats. That's a lot of fun. :-/
My big outings have been a swim meet, fireworks on the 4th and the drive in movie. The last two I was parked in the back of Hub's truck trying to stay comfortable. Not an easy thing to do. So yeah. It's been tough. I need to find out where we go from here. I will have to be scoped again and they will need to surgically remove all the precancer cells and then monitor me. For now just trying to get rid of the pouchitis and treat the cuffitis that is causing me pain and issues. And I'm starving. I love food and this sucks. I had some rice yesterday and some marshmallows. I think that's it. But I had made a tomato cream sauce the night before and ate it and was in MISERY all that night into yesterday so that makes me pull back on eating. I knew acidic tomato would be bad, but I just wanted to EAT! It's really hard to cook and NOT eat what you made. It was yummy but it made me want to die for 6-12 hours later. NOT WORTH IT! But I'll do it again. It's hard just not eating what you like. Or cooking one thing and knowing you are eating something lame. It erases any motivation to make something. So at 4pm when I have no dinner plan, it sucks. I know all IBDers struggle with this. We just want something real and want what we want. If we feel ok we push the envelope and we suffer. I'm no exception. My diet is crap. Many fruits are bad. Most vegetables. I could live on potato chips and junk and be fine. One helping of something healthy and I'm in misery. I never thought I'd miss salad so much. And broccoli. It's ridiculous.
Enjoy your day everyone. Run and play with your kids. Or without your kids. Take advantage of being able to just 'Do'. When you can't it royally sucks.

Guilt. So much guilt comes with being chronically sick and in pain. This is the summer of #sickmomfail. Last summer I was recovering from surgery. This summer was supposed to be my "all in" summer. Nope. In pain. Stoned on pain meds. Laying on my bed playing word games on my phone. I can't imagine being sick like this prior to the digital age. I would have gone nuts. Daughter #1 loves to just GO... and I'm in park. As in parked on my sore ass. I feel like my chronic lameness makes her sad. I know she gets so disappointed. I hate it. I hate not being me. I feel trapped in a body that is defying me. I'm not eating much. I feel lethargic from meds. But let me back up a minute.
I left off needing to see my surgeon about my biopsy and scope results.  So I went last Wednesday and naturally there couldn't be good news. The basic rundown is as follows: I have Pouchitis in my JPouch. I have inflammation and ulceration of the 1cm that's left of my rectum, called the rectal cuff. So it's Cuffitis. My fistula that was opened is still healing and open and painful. And the cherry on top is that I have dysplasia somewhere up in there. By the time he got to that I was upset and didn't get the specifics of where. For those who don't know, dysplasia is abnormal cell growth. Often it is precancerous in nature so the area needs to be taken care of so it doesn't progress to cancer. For those that haven't been reading my blog, I had advanced cervical dysplasia over about 50% of my cervix in 2011 and had to have the area scraped away to prevent it from manifesting into cancer. So now I'm dealing with it somewhere else. Seriously..I have zero shame and modesty left. This must be how porn stars feel... nothing left to hide. So, now my surgeon wants to confer with some super specialist and double check the labs and maybe re-scope me and take new biopsies. HOW FUN!!! WoooooHoooooo! What a fan-fucking-tastic summer so far.
So, now I'm back on a steroid three times a day. This time Entocort. So far I don't notice much change other than the night sweats and being on edge 24/7. I'm used to being on Prednisone which kicks in fast so I know I'm being impatient. I'm also using a nightly suppository which is just a regular party in my ass. Yeah--- so painful, open wound ass and I need to put that through that. It SUCKS. Big time. It's hard too. Like plastic. So all you "I do anal stuff for sexy fun" people are OUT OF YOUR DAMN MINDS. Holy shit. Never.
I'm also still taking Norco for pain and Flagyl for the pouchitis. So, that's my day. Pill popping. Barely eating because it's just not worth it right now. It is truly a big struggle to pull myself together and be normal. I'm not succeeding. I feel useless. I am sad. I hate disappointing my kids. Lots of movies with Daughter #1. I feel so guilty not being 100%. I would love to run around. Can't swim because of the fistula healing. Can't ride bikes. Hurts to move a whole lot. Hurts to sit. The pain pills that normally knock me out at night are now fighting against the steroid induced night sweats. That's a lot of fun. :-/
My big outings have been a swim meet, fireworks on the 4th and the drive in movie. The last two I was parked in the back of Hub's truck trying to stay comfortable. Not an easy thing to do. So yeah. It's been tough. I need to find out where we go from here. I will have to be scoped again and they will need to surgically remove all the precancer cells and then monitor me. For now just trying to get rid of the pouchitis and treat the cuffitis that is causing me pain and issues. And I'm starving. I love food and this sucks. I had some rice yesterday and some marshmallows. I think that's it. But I had made a tomato cream sauce the night before and ate it and was in MISERY all that night into yesterday so that makes me pull back on eating. I knew acidic tomato would be bad, but I just wanted to EAT! It's really hard to cook and NOT eat what you made. It was yummy but it made me want to die for 6-12 hours later. NOT WORTH IT! But I'll do it again. It's hard just not eating what you like. Or cooking one thing and knowing you are eating something lame. It erases any motivation to make something. So at 4pm when I have no dinner plan, it sucks. I know all IBDers struggle with this. We just want something real and want what we want. If we feel ok we push the envelope and we suffer. I'm no exception. My diet is crap. Many fruits are bad. Most vegetables. I could live on potato chips and junk and be fine. One helping of something healthy and I'm in misery. I never thought I'd miss salad so much. And broccoli. It's ridiculous.
Enjoy your day everyone. Run and play with your kids. Or without your kids. Take advantage of being able to just 'Do'. When you can't it royally sucks.