Domestic God
I almost caught a picture of him running the vacuum cleaner in his boxer briefs like this. He caught me with the camera and darted behind the kitchen pass-through. My plan was foiled. I wish I would have gotten it, that was pretty cute.
Posted by gwendolyn on March 26, 2003 at 08:17 PM
Bottoms Up
Tonight when you are watching The Shit Is Blowing Up Show because it is the inevitable form of torture your husband (and mine) subjects you to every evening when he gets home, you should try this. You will have to wait until your children go to bed of course. Just incase they actually confirm that Saddam is dead.
Posted by gwendolyn on at 12:41 PM
Out Of Focus
It feels strange that my own life and my little world is returning to a state of normalcy while a lot of the world has gotten so sad and chaotic. It reminds me of focusing a camera so that the main subject in the foreground that was once fuzzy and distorted while the background seemed crisp and clear now becomes defined and clear while the background becomes blurred.
When asked if I am keeping up with the war coverage I have to admit that I do somewhat but I really try not to make it a constant focal point in my mind. It isn't that I don't care or worry. I do. In fact, that is just the point. My life has been filled with dying and pain and suffering and worrying for so long that I find it hard not to want to concentrate on the vitality I feel after finally having overcome that. I feel like I was lost for awhile and now I found me again. I hope the rest of the world comes out of this chaos soon.
Posted by gwendolyn on March 24, 2003 at 11:06 AM
Stating The Obvious
I found my inner Punk Rock Girl. She had been laying low for awhile. She told me to whisper in your ear that she isn't wearing any panties.
Posted by gwendolyn on March 22, 2003 at 06:22 PM
One Of Those Days
The Sweetest Drop
Roll yourself away from me
Unveil me from your layers
Lay with me
Let me plunder, – no betrayal
Shame cast out
Morning sensual fire aroused
Union upon union
In union we’ll flower
Sail naked in our funder
Press towards the burst
Drop the sweetest drop
Give the thunder up
Rocking to the top
Sensor none the shame
Cling no more to shame
Ring me in the morning
Take me, take me, in the rain
Oh come with me, eh come with me
Concurr and swallow me
Explode secrete your tender
Let’s scream out like the sea
Pull me warm and slender
Concur and swallow me
Explode secrete your tender
Let’s scream out like the sea
Union upon union
Drop the sweetest drop
I think about you all day
Calling the sacred first
Rolling sunlit day
Give me what I thirst
Drop the sweetest drop
Give the thunder up
Rocking to the top
Sensor none the shame
Cling no more to shame
Ring me in the morning
Take me, take me in the rain
Oh come with me
Yeah come with me
Concur and swallow me
Explode secrete your tender
Let’s scream out like the sea
Roll yourself away
Immortal burn alive
Rocking to the top
Sensor none the shame
Cling no more to shame
Ring me in the morning
Take me, take me, in the rain
Oh come with me, oh! come with me
Concur and swallow me
Explode secrete your tender
Let’s scream out like the sea
-Peter Murphy
Posted by gwendolyn on March 21, 2003 at 10:45 AM
Bittersweet
Last night as I was laying in our bed in the dark I ran my hand down over my stomach and tried to remember what I looked like way before I had any scars at all. I said something to Terry about it and he told me that when Dr. W took him into the consultation room when I was very sick and in grave danger, he told him that he was going to have to make a very long incision from just under my ribs all the way down. Terry told him "She isn't going to like that at all." To which Dr. W replied something to the effect of, "At least she will have the choice not to like it." Terry was right, I am not very happy about the way it looks or feels but at the same time I am very grateful to Dr. W for giving me the ability to hate it.
Posted by gwendolyn on at 09:33 AM
The Girl With No Hell
If I had to get up this morning and write song lyrics as my profession, which I don't but let's pretend I do, I think every song I wrote would contain the line..."Baby, if lovin' you is wrong I don't wanna be right." Even though I think I would be stealing that line from someone wouldn't I?
Yeah, it probably is a good thing I don't quit my day job.
Posted by gwendolyn on March 20, 2003 at 09:53 AM
Yeah, What He Said
I think this is what I was trying to say...
"You must be the change you wish to see in the world." - Mahatma Gandhi
Posted by gwendolyn on March 18, 2003 at 01:07 PM
Keeping My Promises
I am up trying to figure out what is causing a stabbing sort of pain in the lower right portion of my abdomen. I hope it is just muscle pain where they sewed me all back together. I keep pushing around the new scar to see if I can pinpoint it or feel any knots but I can’t. Odd. I just could not get comfortable enough to sleep.
I know that I have had a one track mind for the last several months. It isn’t that I don’t think or care about anything outside of my two foot radius. I just couldn’t focus on much of anything except my physical and mental problems. There are other things that have been on my mind for a long time and recently I have been doing a lot of reading and learning.
I am sure that I have mentioned before that a majority of what we eat and use here in Casa Monkey is organically produced. I have also mentioned that I was working toward the goal of replacing all of my cosmetics, personal care items, and household products with less toxic more environmentally friendly versions. This is something that we as a family have deemed important to us and to the rest of the Earth and we are willing to pay the price for.
There are people in our own families that don’t understand why we do things this way. We weren’t brought up in organic homes or to think about the impact of our consumerism on a global level. This has all come about because the more I learn the more I realize that I can’t sit around on my fat ass in my old age wondering why everyone in my family has one disease or another when I knew I was feeding my children pesticide and GMOs and bovine growth hormone and all of the other yummy stuff in conventional foods that have been linked to tons of medical problems. We are also all pretty stupid to believe that the damage we are doing will allow for any of us to actually be sitting around at all in our old age.
I know that some people couldn’t make it a month in our house because of these choices. Strangely, I find it both comical and sad. I have no desire to condemn people for the way they choose to live. It isn’t for me to decide. I would be a hypocrite to say that I followed my own rules 100% of the time. I don’t. I am the first to admit to Jonesing for junk food. I pig out on crappy toxic food everytime it is near me. Usually, I pay for it by feeling like a complete slug as does Monkeyboy. We don’t sit around like other people and wonder why the hell our bellies hurt. We know why. We were overcome by our stupidity. We just lay around and moan for awhile and then move on and try not to be idiots so much in the near future. When I go to the grocery store I buy about 98% organics. If we want junk that bad, we have to make a special trip somewhere to get it.
However, in general, If people stopped and thought about what they put into their bodies and on their bodies and in their homes and educated themselves about the ingredients in the things they buy and the impact that those things have on their own health and their environments they would be freaking out. Just like I do. I suspect at least some people would change the way they think, the way they eat, the way they purchase and consume, and the way they live. I am not a pro at it yet but I am trying.
Changing your entire way of life over night is irrational. It is extreme and most of us aren’t comfortable with quitting anything “cold turkey”. Even as extreme as I prefer to do these things, I won’t give up my Jaguar just yet even though I know that running that big heavy thing up and down the street goes against everything I know is right. And my leather boot buying isn’t doing much for the aspiring Vegan in me. However, there are things I can and will change about my life the more I educate myself about the products I buy and the more I really weigh the pros and cons of the choices I make.
There have been a lot of people in and out of our home lately who just smile shake their heads at me and wonder why I am so crazy. It is hard for me to explain things to them without going into great detail and then coming up with all of the facts and reports to support my ranting. I keep trying to think of a subtle way to get people to appreciate or at least understand why they won’t find the stuff they normally buy at my house. It isn’t that I am trying to be difficult. Prepare yourself, I am about to give an example.
This is just one of many reasons you won’t find any of these products in my medicine cabinets or make up bag. I have completely restocked my home with healthier alternatives to these types of things.
In fact, across the board I have made lots of changes, everything from the food we eat to the soap we wash our clothes with. I have been in the process of changing these things for nearly two years. It gets easier the more I know about what it is I am buying and where to find things.
Now it would be completely retarded of me not to point out that the tubes shoved down my nose and into my abdomen and into my veins, not to mention the IV bags full of fluid that hung over my head for the last year, and who knows what else I had going into me in the hospital most likely contained these very harmful chemicals I have linked to. Does that make me feel better about the whole thing? Uh, no. Would it make me refuse medical treatment? Not likely. Does it piss me off that I have no real choice in the matter? Yes. No one bothered to tell me that these plastic things shoved into my body more than likely contain the aforementioned chemicals and who knows what else. I found this information all on my own. It is crazy. How do these things get approved?
There has to be some sort of education about these things and many other issues. People who find these things need to talk about them. How can we expect things to change for the better if we don’t do something about them? Changing the way you look at the things right there around you, right in your own home, seems pretty easy. More of the population should try it.
It seems like hippie tree hugging activism to be saving up my pennies to buy the organic hemp shower curtain I want that costs nearly a hundred dollars when could just go buy some polyester one with a toxic plastic liner at KMart for ten. I know. However, do your homework and you will understand what I am talking about. It is cheap to produce toxic crap. Anything worth having takes time and care and organic products are some of those things. There are a whole host of reasons why and I will most likely rant about that another time.
My view is that you can’t change anything in the world around you if you don’t start with yourself. This is why I don’t have I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter and Diet Mt. Dew.
Posted by gwendolyn on at 01:53 AM
Home Alone
Mr. Monkey's mother went home in the wee hours of the morning. It was storming. I remember waking up enough to realize it was storming, tell Terry to get up that it had to be past three, and at some point later him kissing me goodbye. I hope she made it home safely. The second leg of her flight involved a tiny prop plane. I certainly hope it wasn't storming like that for the second half. She will be traumatized.
That leaves just me and the monkeylettes. This is the first day since this latest surgery that we have been without a house guest. The eldest is working in his math book at the moment. The littler ones are trashing the toy closet.
I had another nightmare about the DOE a couple of nights ago. It involved some old angry woman in a black suit with horned rimmed glasses telling me that I was not complying with state laws and being in court and me trying to convince a judge that just because I had been in the hospital didn't mean my children weren't being taught anything. Unfortunately, they have spent the last year learning some really strange and gross things about health and anatomy. Most of which I imagine could qualify them as pre-med students. I am still not sure why I dream that though. I guess I still get worried after I have been letting them slack off on the books for a week or so. I have to keep in mind that they do still learn a lot everyday even if we aren't slaving over the bookwork. Some days they learn more. It all goes back to my real desire to unschool them.
I guess I need to find Savannah some first grade workbooks. She flew through the Kindergarten one. She informed her grandma that she was in first grade now but mommy hasn't bought her any new books and so she can't do school she just lays around watching television all day long. Isn't it lovely when your children paint those sort of pictures for people? Mommy doesn't let her. Hmm. She has a bookshelf full of books, as many workbook type printouts as my poor printer can spit out, an unlimited supply of blank paper and her own imagination, and Mommy doesn't let her. See where I am going with this?
Logan also pointed out to Grandma that he has very few friends and the friends he has made through the homeschooling groups are selfish and mean to him. Not that this isn't true, but I am not sure what to do about it. That is bothering me a lot. Especially when he tells people that and I am sure some people in the family think I am keeping them locked up in the house and sheltering them from having a normal childhood full of traumatic inhumane social experiences and humiliating physical and mental domination that is daily life in the public school system. The truth of the matter is that I won't let him run the streets here with the little future gang members that live on our block or end up on the back of a milk carton while people wonder why the hell I wasn't watching my kid more closely. This isn't Mayberry people.
I can say objectively that he needs to be involved in some situation where he is exposed to more people of or around his own age who share similar interests and values and who don't possess the social skills of a spoiled two year old. It is hard to find nine year old boys around here with any sort of maturity about them. It is a shame to see that within the homeschooling community here there aren't more boys like him. For that matter it is very hard to find any families with similar views as ours. I wonder sometimes if the stereotypical view point that homeschooled children are like children raised by wolves isn't accurate.
Last night Savannah and I cuddled in bed and before we fell asleep we practiced adding our fingers together in various combinations. She isn't having any problems grasping addition or subtraction. I think we need to concentrate on learning to read. She is teetering on the verge of being able to. She rocks at sounding out words. The strange thing is that if I pull out a Dr. Seuss book and ask her to sound out the words she immediately acts like it is too hard. I don't know what is so intimidating to her. Hop on Pop should be right up her alley at the moment. I guess the idea of a whole book full of words is too much for her.
Speaking of falling asleep, I have been sleeping on my tummy for the last few nights. I think that is one of the reasons why I slept like a log last night. I missed that so much. It is a bit uncomfortable to get into position but as long as I don't try to move around too much once I am there it doesn't hurt. Six months is a long time for a stomach sleeper to sleep on their back. I was such a fool for thinking that particular misery was over with after my last pregnancy.
Happy St. Patrick's Day to y'all and make sure to wear purple so you get your booty pinched at least a few times today!
Posted by gwendolyn on March 17, 2003 at 11:03 AM
What Doesn't Kill Us Makes Us Stronger
I have been reading through my archives tonight. The last five months have revolved around my medical conditions. I want to get past it and put it to rest. I want to move on. However, I also wanted to know if I could go back now and get a real sense of what it was really like as a whole from just the words I typed. I think it was a very shortened but accurate summary of what has been the most trying time of my life. I wish I had kept a more detailed account of the whole thing. The more I read the better I felt about my current state of being and the more I remember how far I have come.
The events in our lives shape and mold us. They either make us or they break us. I haven't decided yet which way this went. In some ways I feel a lot stronger, but then again in a lot of ways I am much weaker now. I overcame incredible physical odds but in turn became obssessed with the idea that I wasn't going to live through a much less complicated situation.
I am going to get real dark here for a minute but I promise to cut it out. I don't like being all gloomy anymore than you like reading about my gloominess. I think this is worth thinking about though.
If you have children you might want to think about the things you would want them to know if you were suddenly gone. Many parents don't get a chance to say the things they should have. I almost didn't.
My oldest son has overheard, seen and generally sensed a lot of things that went on including my horrible physical trauma, feelings of despair and fear of dying this time in. I didn't really mean for him to. Children shouldn't have to worry about this stuff and especially not when they have already been through something as scary as all of this.
Logan has mentioned several times that he was sad that I am sick. He has also expressed how he felt when the doctors couldn't do anything to fix me in the hospital. He felt they were making me sicker with tubes and medicine. At times I wondered if he was right. Yet he is too young to understand everything that factored into the situation. He mentioned to me today that he has been really scared through this whole thing about me dying. I asked him if he knew while I was in the hospital in late October that I almost died. He said he didn't know right then but he knew after. I knew it was hard for all of them but I imagine he comprehended the severity of it all more than the littler ones. Until today I hadn't really talked to him about it much because I didn't want to make the situation worse by conveying more about my own thoughts and fears to him. He is nine years old. There are some things we need to start talking about. Unfortunately in our situation this is one of them.
I told him that I lived and that I am getting better but that no matter what, if something ever happened to me, I would not want him to worry or be sad. I told him to just know that I have always and will always love him and that I will always be with him even when I am gone, in his heart.
I have always made a point to tell my children exactly how much I love them and how proud I am of them. I have always talked to them about them growing up and how it makes me feel sad and happy all at the same time and we talk about how they feel about their lives and growing up. I just really haven't approached the subject of "What if something happens to mommy?".
I have a hard enough time facing my own mortality. Saying that to him was something I never ever thought I could do without sobbing hysterically and being so completely overwhelmed to the point of not being able to even speak at all. I did it though. I did it very calmly and straight forward. I did it because when I stopped and really thought about what I would want for him in that situation, it would be just that. I know that it would be unrealistic for me to think it wouldn't be devastating to him, but if he could carry those words with him it might make it a tiny fraction easier to cope with. Maybe.
Posted by gwendolyn on March 15, 2003 at 01:34 AM
Singing In The Shower
I think the fact that for reasons unknown I broke out into a very loud and energetic rendition of Waydown by Catherine Wheel in the shower this morning is a sign that I am getting better.
Posted by gwendolyn on March 14, 2003 at 09:47 AM
On Second Thought
Fuck it. If the boots come I am wearing them. I am not going to be sick. I'm going to smile. I am going to get on with it. I am stronger than all of this and don't you forget it.
Posted by gwendolyn on March 13, 2003 at 12:57 PM
Let Me Tell You How I Really Feel
I am sitting here trying to get up the whatever-it-takes to paint a smile on and get ready for the day and do something besides sit here in my private physical hell.
I am having company this weekend. That would normally make me extremely thrilled. However, I am in serious doubt of my hostessing capabilities. I don't want to be the rain on the parade. I have to go to the airport at four. I don't know if I can do it. Pray to The Fates for me that I may get over whatever this is that is making me so ill before three o'clock. That is Eastern Standard Time. Thanks.
My very sexy VS over-the-knee black leather boots will be here today and I was hoping to be in the state of mind to wear them. Sadly, I am not. Nor do I think my thighs are fooling anyone. You would think that all that hospital walking would have helped my situation. I guess you have to walk faster than half a mile per hour.
I gave up the idea of treating myself to a full day at the spa with facial, manicure, pedicure, massage and as much waxing as one person can get away with. It costs a lot. A whole lot. Not to mention I am too ashamed of the horrific state of my torso. Not that anyone would see that part. I would just feel really uncomfortable. I hate that about this whole thing. Like I wasn't insecure enough.
I wonder if I will ever get over that part. I honestly promised The Fates that if they would listen to my poor sob story and just let me live through all of this that a) I would never take another minute on the planet for granted and that b) I wouldn't care about the scars. I am trying to hold up my end of the bargain. It is just so hard. Especially since I really thought I was going to die and not have to keep it.
I keep reminding myself that as horrible as I may feel at the moment I did, in fact, live and that I should be running laps around the block, fists waving in the air, with some theme music in the background or something. Maybe I will feel like doing that next week sometime. Or not.
Some days I notice everything good about being alive and I just feel like I am just so freaking lucky to be here. I lay on the couch and watch the sunbeams come through the window and play on the walls and am content to just be.
And then some days I can't get past the physical hurt that is part of recovery, and I am so tired of trying to get better and I just want to cry and get pissed off and smash things up because it just wasn't my fault and I am tired of "keeping my chin up".
I sound completely ungrateful don't I? Yeah, I know. I am not really. I am very thankful that I have a full functioning digestive system. I really am. If this were all some horrible condition that I was born with or some disease that I happened to develop I think I would be a bit less bitter. Five months of torture and pain because one man fucked me all up will take a little while to get over.
Posted by gwendolyn on at 11:45 AM
Grandma's and Cakes
My mother went home this morning. She had been here for something like three weeks. I think this symbolizes the end of all of this nightmare. That is all fine and good except I have been sickly for the last three days with symptoms that may indicate a blockage. I would feel more like I had reached the finish line if I felt better.
We are picking up Mr. Monkey's mother this afternoon. She will be here until Monday. Family is coming down and over. There may be a car ride up the coast involved.
At the moment we are busy making yellow cakes with chocolate frosting in Savannah's Barbie Bake with Me Easy Bake Oven.
Posted by gwendolyn on at 08:44 AM
Home
I have been home since early yesterday afternoon. I have been laying around whining about my aches a lot and eating stupid things that I would be ashamed to admit to. Monkeyboy is a very bad influence on my eating choices. It didn't help when he whispered into my ear first thing this morning that he was going to go shower and then run to Dunkin Donuts. If you are what you eat then I am a Pizza Hut Pan Pizza with tomatoes, a custard filled chocolate Eclaire and a powdered lemon custard filled donut. Oh, and a turkey on honey wheat with mayo. Gross, huh?
I have a headache that won't quit today. I woke up with it. However, all is well. Nothing can ruin just being here. Laying in bed cuddling my family rocks. I had thought I wanted to go outside today. Now I am glad we just hung out here.
Posted by gwendolyn on March 08, 2003 at 04:53 PM
Institutionalized
I have been disconnected from the morphine for a whole day. I hadn't been using it very much anyway. I probably only pushed the button about a dozen times in the entire week. Last time I was here they were refilling my pump at least once a day, sometimes twice. I made it the entire week on one vial this time.
After I guilted myself over giving in to the morphine after the first day or so (see last post) I was determined not to become a big wuss and live on the meds. I went all day yesterday with no pain medication at all. I ended up asking for one Percoset last night just to try to get comfortable enough to sleep.
I am pretty sore and swollen still. I felt like QFU the first day or so and now I am not feeling like such a badass after all. It seemed to take a couple of days of post-surgery swelling and general yuckiness for me to start feeling the complete crappiness that is my abdominal situation. I think it takes a day or so for the anesthesia and initial post-op drugs to wear off and for the real misery to set in. However, this morning I asked for some regular old Tylenol. I am not in the habit of taking that either. I am hoping not to have to go home and stay in a drug induced state of constant dry mouth and napping. I want my life back. I don't have anymore time or patience for pain or drugs. I am ready to feel good for a change.
The food they are serving doesn't really help the situation. I seriously wonder who decides what sick people really need to build their immune systems back up. I didn't get to pick my own meals. They just brought me whatever they felt like bringing yesterday. I don't think there are much vitamins, minerals or enzymes left in the mystery meatloaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, overcooked peas, white bread and margerine they are serving. I know I have a lot of nerve complaining about the food when I am honestly extremely grateful that I can actually eat. I just think that the nutritional value of the food they are serving to people with various health problems needs to be reconsidered. The menu is filled with choices that even most doctors would advise you to stay away from. I am struggling to get my digestive tract to function at all, meanwhile they are feeding me sludge that would cause serious Rolaid popping heartburn, constipation and bloating in most normal healthy people. Something is wrong with this picture. I can't help but think a few fresh foods and real fruit juice would help me get things moving better.
My IV came out into the back of my hand again. This is the second time that has happened this week. I woke up to the pain shooting through my hand at four this morning. The first time I knew something was wrong and she just turned it back on anyway and ended up not only filling my hand full of fluid for an entire afternoon she pushed 30cc of Toradol directly into my hand. It burns going in anyway, so having it pushed underneath the skin in your hand really fucking hurts. I spent a whole night with hot compresses trying to relieve the swelling and burning. This time I told the the nurse that if she had to put another one in she could but since I am supposed to go home today and I am no longer getting any meds through it anyway it seemed pointless to go through restarting it somewhere else. It is nearly impossible to get into my veins. They are tiny and nearly invisible. Some times they have even used neonatal needles when trying to put them in. When they do hit them they usually roll and blow out. It took three different people trying and four blown out veins in my hands to get this second one started. They actually ended up putting it into a site they had stuck twice before and blown out. I don't know how that is possible. I thought you couldn't use a vein that had been blown out. At any rate, it hurt like a bitch and I am usually a very good sport about the whole thing. I didn't think I could take that again so early in the morning just to have it stay in for a few hours. She decided I was right but that she was going to tell the doctors that I refused to let her restart one. To save her own ass, of course.
Poor Savannah has been an emotional wreck for the last few days. She has actually been crying for me and carrying my red ball cap around with her. She wanted to stay the night with me last night so badly. I felt so sorry for her when she got on the elevator to go home. I could hear her crying as it started to go down. Then the doors opened a few seconds later and they had come back up just so she could hug me again. It was heart breaking. I convinced her that she needed to go home and get out her Easy Bake oven and make me a cake to celebrate me coming home today. I hope that helped. She loves to cook. I just hope Mom let/helped her. All of them have been through so much with all of this. It has been really hard.
We met another couple that are here that are around our ages. They were here when we were last time. This time she had ileostomy reversal surgery a few hours before me. Same procedure, different surgeon, different reason. So we have gotten to know each other as we shuffle down the halls pushing our poles. Yesterday we really compared war stories and ended up spending some time in their room late last night watching One Hour Photo with Robin Williams. That was one strange movie. I can't decide who's nightmare is worse, except that hers is an ongoing one so I guess hers is. She seems to think mine is. I think both situations are pretty much completely horrible. It has been nice though having someone who knows exactly what it is like. I don't think she is getting to go home today. I feel for her. They live in Tampa. Maybe we could keep in touch. We'll see.
Posted by gwendolyn on March 07, 2003 at 06:02 AM
Cause For Celebration
Oh Happy Day! My plumbing is functioning :) This is very very good. If all goes well with food and drink I should be home within a couple days and can get back to my normal life again. Well, you know, as normal as I get.
Posted by gwendolyn on March 06, 2003 at 10:28 AM
The Day After
I am laying here being hard on myself for finally pushing the button on my Morphine pump. I had done really well all night last night and all day today. I hadn't been in a whole lot of pain since yesterday evening. However, since then I have been on a clear liquid diet and have been sipping tea and water and juice. However, every last bit the drugs completely wore off a few hours ago and I am getting a bit uncomfortable as nothing has passed yet. It seems to all be just sitting there. My tummy is swelling but I am not in so much pain that I can't deal with it at all. I decided after a few laps around the halls, holding my guts in, that I would go ahead and give myself some meds. I just don't want to slow down the process by taking narcotics. Morphine slows the intestines. So you are kind of damned if you do, and damned if you don't. You are either a slave to the pain or a slave to the drugs. I don't want to be either.
I keep telling myself I am bigger and stronger than what I am feeling right now. I know that I could get through for a little longer without the morphine. It would take a lot of concentration and deep breathing though. Frankly, I am too tired to be that stubborn.
On the other hand, I don't want to become dependent on pain killers again. It is easy to build up a tolerance to it and it is hard to live without when eventually you must go from being in a fuzzy numb stupor to crisp acute pain. At some point the medication has to stop. That is why I don't want to even get it started. So I sort of feel like I am failing myself by drugging myself up.
My throat is sore too. I knew it would be. Breathing tubes tend to be rough on the throat and I was just very happy that I didn't wake up before they removed it. That was one of my biggest fears. It is hard to wake up with that in and have your arms strapped down and feel like someone had shoved a vacuum cleaner hose down your throat. It happened to me last time. I had to lay there like that for a few minutes before they removed it. I still have nightmares about it. I have found out that coughing is absolutely out of the question at the moment. I can't even brace myself well enough to do it. It just tears me up.
On a good note, I am fully enjoying the wall of windows once again. I like laying here with the sunshine beaming down directly on me. It is very comforting. My babies came to visit me today. We all piled into my bed and watched cartoons and just hugged a lot. I ended up drifting off to sleep for awhile and then woke up pretty sore so they went home with mom to make smoothies and eat watermelon. Hope was pretty whiney about leaving without me. It breaks my heart. I keep trying to not feel like the whole nightmare is about to start over again.
Everyone send some good vibes to my digestive tract and tell it to giddyup.
Posted by gwendolyn on March 04, 2003 at 04:19 PM
Happy Days Are Here Again
I lived. I actually made it out in a lot better shape than I ever expected to be in. Thanks to all of you who were sending me good vibes. I am sore. My insides seem to be waking up a little. I have even had some juice and some water. The nice people on the third floor even put me back in my favorite room at the end of the hallway with the wall of windows :)
I woke up crying a lot. It took everyone a few minutes to realize I was crying because I was happy and not from the pain. I thanked everyone in recovery over and over. I nearly hugged the anesthesiologist.
It is taking me a little while to get used to the bandage over my wound instead of the crinkle of the plastic of the pouch. It is a much nicer feeling, believe me.
I am not out of the woods yet though. I still have to get to the point where I can eat and function normally. As far as first days out of surgery goes this one seems to be the easiest. It makes me very very happy to be here.
Posted by gwendolyn on March 03, 2003 at 10:58 PM
I Hope Three Is My Lucky Number
Today is the day. If you are reading this and you have faith in anything greater than you and me please ask whatever it is to watch over me and my family today. I don't know what else to write. I keep trying not to cry. I am very afraid.
Posted by gwendolyn on at 09:44 AM