Saturday, June 29, 2013

8 Days Post Op

Here it is 8 days post op and I'm feeling pretty awesome!

Surgery was last Thursday. My doctor went in laparoscopically to examine me but couldn't even tell what she was looking at. My uterus, ovaries and bowel were melded together. She ended up cutting me open on my C-section scar and calling in the general surgeon for assistance. 

When they opened me up, the surgical team gasped and said, "Was she in a lot of pain?!" Turns out I DID have endometriosis and the scar tissue from this had overtaken my organs which explained my constant pain and debilitating back pain. She also found a huge cyst that was twisted around my left ovary and said that it probably had been non-functioning for quite awhile. 

She had my fiance paged as soon as she opened me up and he said his heart dropped and he started sweating. The surgery was only supposed to take an hour and a half and it had only been maybe an hour. He thought something had gone wrong and the first thing he noticed was my doctor's shoes splattered with my blood. 

It turned into a 3-hour procedure and they only left an ovary. They cleaned out the scar tissue as best they could and she said I should not be in pain anymore after I am done healing. She couldn't believe that the last doctor had not done any exploratory surgery to find out why I was in so much pain - even when I mentioned I thought I had endometriosis. 

Recovery was rough. That entire day after the surgery I slept in between getting my vitals taken every four hours, my hemoglobin checked every three hours and the alarms going off on my IV machine. I lost a lot of blood and had to have two infusions which was a first for me.  I dreaded the next day because I knew I would have to get out of bed and it wasn't going to be easy or fun. But...we made it through. I wasn't allowed to go home until Sunday and I was so happy!

Sitting here at home and not being allowed to do anything except walk and rest is extremely hard and painful for me. I find it really ironic that I have complained that I have no free time because I work full-time and go to school full-time......and here I sit. All the time in the world and I'm so bored! God has a strange sense of humor. Be careful what you ask for!

Friday, June 28, 2013

The line has been drawn.....

"Though silence is not necessarily an admission, it is not a denial, either." Marcus Tullius Cicero

 It's been 4 months since I sent my mom the email confronting her about her knowledge of my abuse. She has yet to even acknowledge that I said anything to her. Instead, she has whined and cried to my brother about it and also claimed that I disowned her - which is a lie. 

Does she think that by pretending I never said anything that it will go away? That I will just one day forget that she walked in on the abuse and chose to turn around, leave the house and let it continue? Does she think that by not saying anything that she is professing her innocence? 

I don't get it! If I had ever, ever, EVER hurt my children in any way, shape or form and they came back and confronted me on it - I would be apologizing and talking to them about it, trying to figure out how to make things right again. There would never be a chance in hell that I would ignore their pain. Especially a pain that I caused. 

In the email I told her I forgave her. However, that doesn't relieve her from the responsibility she has to take accountability for it and also talk to me about it. She doesn't talk to me, interact with me or even give a shit about me but wants to be "friends" on Facebook while she bad mouths me to my sibling. 

I have come to accept the fact that I am an orphan - always have been. Sure, I had parents who put a roof over my head and food in my belly but that is about it. Because at the age of 9, when the abuse started, both of my parents turned their backs on me and decided I wasn't good enough and wasn't worthy to be loved or cared for. 

One abused me and the other closed their eyes.

Neither are a part of my life now. Why? Because I found my voice. Because I became strong and healthy. Because I no longer let people walk on me and I stand up for myself and what I believe. Because I speak my Truth. Because I refuse to ever be silent again. Because I made them look at themselves.

My siblings and I were raised in a highly dysfunctional family. It remains this way today. I always viewed my sister as a trouble-maker and pot stirrer because she was constantly bringing things up and trying to talk about things. As I look back, she was the only one even remotely healthy in our family. She spent many years in group homes and therapy where they taught her to confront, communicate, hash things out, own and share her feelings - all things we were discouraged from doing. It wasn't until I went through 5 years of therapy myself that I finally learned what healthy communication was. It was all the things my sister had been trying to get us to do for years. 

My sister and I are the only ones in the family who can now sit down together and even though we disagree, can talk about things, gain an understanding of each other and support each other - even though we walk away still in disagreement. She is the only family member that I feel I can trust and talk to because we KNOW HOW. 

I refuse to be a part of that dysfunction anymore. I refuse to partake in gossip and listen to you bitch and moan about another family member when you should be talking to them. My brother disowned me - for many reasons - but mainly because he still lives in the dysfunction and it feels safe for him. Anything about communication, talking about past hurts, or hashing things out is considered drama to him. I feel sad about that because he is missing out. He doesn't understand that it's not drama - it's healthy communication.

Will she ever acknowledge me and what I said? Will she be accountable for her actions? Will she swallow her pride and begin to mend the relationship? Probably not. Neither of my parents will. EVER. When they become old and sick - I won't be there. When they die - I will not be there holding their hand. When it comes time to bury them - I will not be there, either. They have shown me what I have meant to them and continue to show me to this day. 

Releasing them from my life is not only necessary but OKAY. I have a right to protect myself and draw boundaries. 

And the line has been drawn.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013


How quickly things change. Not even a month ago I was determined to press forward and live with the pain. Today.....I'm losing sleep over the upcoming surgery. 

The pills worked for one week. I'm not even going to go into what I've been putting up with for the past few weeks. I just realized that I can't live like this any more. So I went back to the doctor and my hysterectomy is scheduled for June 20th. 

I'm excited to be done with the agony but nervous as hell. Mostly because we aren't sure yet if she'll be able to do it laparoscopically or, once she gets in there, will need to open me up. I've had a C-section before and do NOT want to do that again. Ever.

I can't sleep at night because I'm going over everything I need to get done by Wednesday of next week. Finals are next week so I need to get my work turned in early. Michaela's shower is two days after my surgery and I need to have everything ready for that. Gotta get the fridge and cabinets stocked so my son can cook for me while I'm laid up. (Ought to be interesting). There's things at work to get done and people to train. Aaaaargh! My mind won't shut down! 

Add all of that to the fears I have for this surgery and it equals no sleep! I don't know why I'm so flipping nervous about this surgery. I've had plenty of others but this one in particular is doing a job on my sanity.