I am dead-dog-ass tired. I am tired and worn-out and I can't cry anymore. Did I mention I was kind of hungry too? I know that it is "head" hunger and not real hunger because I just scarfed down a bag of popcorn about an hour or two ago. Damn. Why don't I just go to bed? Well, therein lies my tale of woe. Care to sit a spell and listen?
First off we will start with the tale of death, doom and destruction that started last Thursday with the trip to the liver specialist at B-North, which is approximately 1 hour and 20 minutes away. Nice Dr, wants to "get to the bottom of this platelet thing". Great, you have a go at that Dr. because the hematologist was "getting to the bottom of this platelet thing" for about 13 months. And 13 months and about $11,000 later guess what she found out? Tony has low platelets and they don't get any better. I could have told her that for free and we could have bought a newer car with that insurance money! But I digress. So Tony has to have all these test and guess where they have to be done? B-North. Nice hospital, really, great too bad it is fucking an hour and twenty minutes away and we have to go down there three more times for tests and then another time for results. Sweet. I love driving and Tony loves tests so it works out. Fucker.
So this whole test thing, how does it go? Well,to start off, Tony's decides not to take his blood pressure medication for about 5 days before the test because "he ran out just the other day" and didn't take before the test even though he was instructed to take the damn medication. Dammit just take it OK? So his blood pressure is nice and high and he has just enough water weight not to be able to have the scheduled test completed. Seriously. Then they decide he has to get some platelets (because he has none) and the shit hits the fan. He threatens to rip out his IV and leave. Things were ugly for a minute but got better. Amazingly enough he gets some platelets (I figured with his luck and health issues they would be fresh out of his kind or some stupid shit) and breaks out in hives. Which is not a good thing. After a small amount of panicking because the nurse would not listen to me "hey look at this hives, he just got platelets, don't ya think something should happen?!" We get to another department which notices the hives and takes care of them. Yeah! Tony gets the liver biopsy and about 3 1/2 hours later we get to leave!
Tony is doing pretty good. He is just a little sore but he refuses to go to bed. Could be all the steroids he received because of the hives. So up I sit with him to make sure he behaves.
If he doesn't go to bed soon, I am pretty sure I am going to just fall over. My head hurts and my eyes are tired and dammit I am starving and I wanna go to bed! I am thinking about slipping him some benadryl and calling it a night...;)
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
Mad as hell
My husband is sick and I am pissed off about it. Pissed off, guilty, sad, confused, worried and even more pissed off. I am not really pleasant to be around right now. After 13 months of platelet death we still know nothing. And now he is having all these tests over the next few weeks (they have to be spread out because he has to have anesthesia to have them done) and we are scared to death. I have cried and cried and cried some more. I got into a fight with my Mom and I am pissed off at my baby sister. I am not a good person right now. Not sure that I have ever been a good person but now is really bad. I am losing my hair, broke out, can't sleep or can't stop sleeping and did I mention I cry a lot? We have been through so much I just am wore out.
Tony is a trooper, he still does all the grocery shopping, waits on me hand and foot, cooks and pretends to clean even when he is sick. I am still mean as hell, unsympathetic and demanding. Apparently I am narcissistic and a jerk on top of that. I am not a good at home caregiver. I am caregiver-ed out. And it's not fair to Tony. He didn't do anything to be sick like this. His health problems are just because no real reason. And it pisses me off. I want to be the perfect wife who stuffs and fluffs and knows the perfect thing to say. Who cooks the best, healthiest meal ever and kisses all boo-boos away. But, alas, I am not. I don't cook and I whine a lot. I try and I fail, then I try again. I wish I knew what to do, what to say and dammit I wish I could stop crying.
I suppose there is a lesson to be learned in all of this mess. Something brilliant and life-changing. I just hope I don't miss this lesson because it would be a damn shame to go through all this for nothing.
Tony is a trooper, he still does all the grocery shopping, waits on me hand and foot, cooks and pretends to clean even when he is sick. I am still mean as hell, unsympathetic and demanding. Apparently I am narcissistic and a jerk on top of that. I am not a good at home caregiver. I am caregiver-ed out. And it's not fair to Tony. He didn't do anything to be sick like this. His health problems are just because no real reason. And it pisses me off. I want to be the perfect wife who stuffs and fluffs and knows the perfect thing to say. Who cooks the best, healthiest meal ever and kisses all boo-boos away. But, alas, I am not. I don't cook and I whine a lot. I try and I fail, then I try again. I wish I knew what to do, what to say and dammit I wish I could stop crying.
I suppose there is a lesson to be learned in all of this mess. Something brilliant and life-changing. I just hope I don't miss this lesson because it would be a damn shame to go through all this for nothing.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Oh the pain, oh the sorrow...Oh that is just about enough
I am a whiny-ass cry-baby for those of you that are not in the "know". It pisses me off to no end that I act that way. I embrace enjoy love invite suffer from depression. It's not a seasonal depression it's just plain o' feel sorry for yourself depression. It's no one suffers as much as I do depression. It's overeating one week and not sleeping or sleeping all the time and not eating. It's crying because I can and avoiding because I will depression. And I feel helpless. I know that it is depression because I am a functioning depressionist (yeah I make up words) or maybe it would be closer to the truth to say I am a kind of functioning depressionist. I drag myself to work, I force myself to leave the house but it is hard. Hell it took me three appointments to make it to the dentist! The first I canceled because I couldn't afford the appointment, the second because it snowed (I live really, really close to the dentist) and the third I finally made it but I didn't want to go. I was just too embarrassed to cancel another appointment. And for what? A painless visit to the dentist that was free! FREE. I am stupid.
What do I do about this depression? Well, not much. I have explained to the doctor, tearfully even, that I am depressed. She poo-poos this and says "your not depressed, you are in pain." Seriously? I am in pain because I am depressed. I know I am depressed because I am smart like that, why don't anyone ever listen to me? I cry, I have sleep disturbances, I have a big fat ass and I am depressed you dumb ass. You think we can do something about it? How's about some of those handy happy pills?! Isn't depression what those are for? Oh wait, I remember now, those happy pills are now for nerve pain, fibromylagia, restless legs, weight-loss or any number of "off-label" uses just ask your doctor but you won't prescribe them for depression anymore? Really? This is pissing me off.
I know I will go to the head-doctor and talk about my feelings. You know what the problem is with that? I have to call the insurance company, tell them I am crazy and no I don't think about killing myself, others, eh most days others are safe because I am too damned depressed to dispose of bodies you stupid shit. Then after I call the insurance company and they get back with me, I have to choose someone to "see". No one close because I don't want anyone to see me there because of the stigma of being mentally ill, so I will have to chose someone in Guam who is in my network. From there I will have to make and appointment, fill out papers and then actually get dressed and go. You have to be fucking kidding me. I am depressed, I haven't been dressed in 4 days and now I have to drive an hour each way to talk to someone about being depressed. Well, fuck that. That's too much work.
So instead I will tell myself, I have to go to work. I have to smile. I have to fake it to make it. I won't let them see me cry and I will make it through this. Things will get better or they won't. I will beat this. It's the blues, it's the weather, it's, it's, it's...it's sad and it sucks.
What do I do about this depression? Well, not much. I have explained to the doctor, tearfully even, that I am depressed. She poo-poos this and says "your not depressed, you are in pain." Seriously? I am in pain because I am depressed. I know I am depressed because I am smart like that, why don't anyone ever listen to me? I cry, I have sleep disturbances, I have a big fat ass and I am depressed you dumb ass. You think we can do something about it? How's about some of those handy happy pills?! Isn't depression what those are for? Oh wait, I remember now, those happy pills are now for nerve pain, fibromylagia, restless legs, weight-loss or any number of "off-label" uses just ask your doctor but you won't prescribe them for depression anymore? Really? This is pissing me off.
I know I will go to the head-doctor and talk about my feelings. You know what the problem is with that? I have to call the insurance company, tell them I am crazy and no I don't think about killing myself, others, eh most days others are safe because I am too damned depressed to dispose of bodies you stupid shit. Then after I call the insurance company and they get back with me, I have to choose someone to "see". No one close because I don't want anyone to see me there because of the stigma of being mentally ill, so I will have to chose someone in Guam who is in my network. From there I will have to make and appointment, fill out papers and then actually get dressed and go. You have to be fucking kidding me. I am depressed, I haven't been dressed in 4 days and now I have to drive an hour each way to talk to someone about being depressed. Well, fuck that. That's too much work.
So instead I will tell myself, I have to go to work. I have to smile. I have to fake it to make it. I won't let them see me cry and I will make it through this. Things will get better or they won't. I will beat this. It's the blues, it's the weather, it's, it's, it's...it's sad and it sucks.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Living my life
Maybe a quick blog will help me sleep. You see I have insomnia and it is pissing me off. I hate, hate, hate not being able to sleep. Sleeping is one of my coping mechanisms and boy right now I need all of those coping mechanisms I can get.
But I digress one of the reasons I wanted to blog was to admit that I have checked out on my life. I can't really put a finger on when I started checking out on life but I am thinking I was a pretty small child when I started doing it and I am sure that it was one of my coping mechanisms (damn, I think we are all going to be tired of seeing coping mechanisms) Mom started drinking and I checked out, hid and did my own thing. Is that yelling? Run, run for the hills (or my bedroom with a book and the covers up to my chin). I am by nature an avoider (yeah, I made up a word) I don't like confrontation, yelling, uncomfortable situations, drunks and dealing with life. So I just up and avoid shit. It worked for me. Worked being the key term there. Avoiding shit has caught up with me and now I have some regrets. And regrets suck because there isn't a damn thing that can be done about them.
But I digress one of the reasons I wanted to blog was to admit that I have checked out on my life. I can't really put a finger on when I started checking out on life but I am thinking I was a pretty small child when I started doing it and I am sure that it was one of my coping mechanisms (damn, I think we are all going to be tired of seeing coping mechanisms) Mom started drinking and I checked out, hid and did my own thing. Is that yelling? Run, run for the hills (or my bedroom with a book and the covers up to my chin). I am by nature an avoider (yeah, I made up a word) I don't like confrontation, yelling, uncomfortable situations, drunks and dealing with life. So I just up and avoid shit. It worked for me. Worked being the key term there. Avoiding shit has caught up with me and now I have some regrets. And regrets suck because there isn't a damn thing that can be done about them.
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Happy New Year...or something like that
Well, with each New Year I eagerly await change, I fully expect with the dropping of the ball for my life to magically change. All my problems will just *poof* and be gone. Then my life will be all sunshine, moonbeams, rainbows and happiness. I am a fool.
I fell in love this the title of a book once, it's called The Year of Magical Thinking. Have you read it? The book is basically about a woman whom her husband dies and her daughter has some sort of terrible illness and that's pretty much the whole book. It's an OK book but such a wonderful title. I have not only had a year of magical thinking, it's been more like two years of magical thinking, maybe three. The first year was the year of actually addressing the fact that a family member had a horrible drug addiction. With that came the words, thank god that year is over it was the worst year ever. My friend, Speedy, told me never, ever to say that because the one time he said that, his next three years were the worst years of his life. His family doesn't even speak of those years. I thought him superstitious at first and now...well...one more year to go huh? The next year was full of death and the past year full of illness. And this year starts with the same shit, just a different date.
Tony thinks that the majority of the problem is that we haven't changed thus nothing else will change. Which I agree we need some change in our life. But we can change all we want and that is not going to fix his platelet count or well, lots of other stuff. I hate change but I am beginning to realize that I hate this life more. I hate being unhappy, an enabler, working a job that I no longer love, not having sex and any number of other things that I can change. So maybe this year will be the year of change. The year of new beginnings, of hope, peace and the like?
I fell in love this the title of a book once, it's called The Year of Magical Thinking. Have you read it? The book is basically about a woman whom her husband dies and her daughter has some sort of terrible illness and that's pretty much the whole book. It's an OK book but such a wonderful title. I have not only had a year of magical thinking, it's been more like two years of magical thinking, maybe three. The first year was the year of actually addressing the fact that a family member had a horrible drug addiction. With that came the words, thank god that year is over it was the worst year ever. My friend, Speedy, told me never, ever to say that because the one time he said that, his next three years were the worst years of his life. His family doesn't even speak of those years. I thought him superstitious at first and now...well...one more year to go huh? The next year was full of death and the past year full of illness. And this year starts with the same shit, just a different date.
Tony thinks that the majority of the problem is that we haven't changed thus nothing else will change. Which I agree we need some change in our life. But we can change all we want and that is not going to fix his platelet count or well, lots of other stuff. I hate change but I am beginning to realize that I hate this life more. I hate being unhappy, an enabler, working a job that I no longer love, not having sex and any number of other things that I can change. So maybe this year will be the year of change. The year of new beginnings, of hope, peace and the like?
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