If you were awake last night, you should know that you missed one heck of a party.
I didn't know it, but I was in for a surprise pity party with a whopping attendance of one. The "SURPRISE" with the balloons and the streamers kicked off around 1:00 this morning and the festivities didn't completely wrap up until about 6:00 a.m.
The violins were in fine form all night long.
Here's just a bit of play by play so you can appreciate what you missed by not being invited:
I can't get comfortable because of this stupid catheter . . . I shouldn't feel like I have to pee. Why does it feel like that? I bet I'm already getting a urinary tract infection. I told the doctor this would happen, but did she listen? Oh no, of course not, it's just MY body, that has been in agony with UTIs, why should I KNOW I'm going to get one with a catheter in for more than week? Super bug my butt. Give me the penicillin already so I can have some peace. Probably need to empty the stupid bag AGAIN, which I should be able to do, it's my nasty pee after all, I shouldn't have to wake up Bob in the middle of the night to do this, he needs his sleep, he's got to go back to work in the morning and here I am keeping him up all night. Crap, there's the phone alarm. I need to touch the screen to dismiss it and take my pills. I can't get turned to touch the screen . .. . and now it's fallen to the floor. I still have the earphones in with the white noise, so I'll try to pull it up that way . . . and the plug comes out so it's making noise on the floor where I can't reach it. Wait, I've got this grabber thing here. . . where is it . . . I don't want to turn the lights on . . . crash. . . there went the grabber and something else off the bedside table to the floor. Woke Bob up, who turns on the lights, finds my phone, sets everything else back upright, empties the bag and asks what else he can do. I take my pills (the whole point of the alarm going off in the first place) and I'm all frustrated and angry and upset, so I forget to eat any crackers with the pills, even though I had Bob go get them the last time around for exactly this moment, and 20 minutes later I'm nauseous and they feel like they are stuck in the back of my throat. What is wrong with me? I can't focus, can't sleep, can't do anything for myself. I'm swollen up like a beached whale. I itch. Parts of my back feel like I might be getting little sores from lying on my back, which I rarely lie on, for so long. Bed sores. Really? How on earth does someone get so gross lying around all day? I need a shower sooooo badly but I can't even do that on my own. I am completely useless. Why did I even have this surgery? I just went in for a routine exam two months ago and now I'm without one organ and with another stinted and catheterized. I have hundreds of sutures and lost nearly half of my blood volume. What is wrong with me? Didn't I SEE that thing? It was disgusting. Thank God they got it out before it has taken over even more organs and I was rendered incontinent for the rest of my life. What is wrong with me? Oh, right, neither the bowels nor the ovaries that control my hormones have completely bounced back from the surgery I had just days ago. Why do I have to be so hard on myself? Wait, am I really getting angry at myself for getting angry at myself? Who am I?
The above was probably across a stretch of maybe five minutes. And the party went on most of the night in between dozing with odd dreams and berating and bemoaning my sad lot alone in the universe.
Aren't you sorry you missed it?
In the light of day, after having showered and gotten a fresh gown on, and eaten breakfast and taken more pain pills, even I wish I hadn't invited myself to that party of one. But in all honesty, that's where I was, and probably will be again, hopefully more briefly each time, as I give myself permission to grieve and heal. Someone else said yesterday, "your body doesn't know the difference between this and a life threatening car wreck where they had to open you up and stop the bleeding and remove organs to save your life. If that had happened, would you be as quick to tell yourself to get over it?"
So between Bob helping me get showered and Mom and Dad coming with breakfast and Starbucks, and my wonderful kids getting themselves up and out for school, and being waited on hand and foot, I'm going to take a nap to catch up on some of the sleep I didn't get last night. Today's goal is to try to be a little more kind to myself and a little more forgiving for all the things I can't do yet.
For anyone still listening, thanks for putting up with my nonsense. :)
I didn't know it, but I was in for a surprise pity party with a whopping attendance of one. The "SURPRISE" with the balloons and the streamers kicked off around 1:00 this morning and the festivities didn't completely wrap up until about 6:00 a.m.
The violins were in fine form all night long.
Here's just a bit of play by play so you can appreciate what you missed by not being invited:
I can't get comfortable because of this stupid catheter . . . I shouldn't feel like I have to pee. Why does it feel like that? I bet I'm already getting a urinary tract infection. I told the doctor this would happen, but did she listen? Oh no, of course not, it's just MY body, that has been in agony with UTIs, why should I KNOW I'm going to get one with a catheter in for more than week? Super bug my butt. Give me the penicillin already so I can have some peace. Probably need to empty the stupid bag AGAIN, which I should be able to do, it's my nasty pee after all, I shouldn't have to wake up Bob in the middle of the night to do this, he needs his sleep, he's got to go back to work in the morning and here I am keeping him up all night. Crap, there's the phone alarm. I need to touch the screen to dismiss it and take my pills. I can't get turned to touch the screen . .. . and now it's fallen to the floor. I still have the earphones in with the white noise, so I'll try to pull it up that way . . . and the plug comes out so it's making noise on the floor where I can't reach it. Wait, I've got this grabber thing here. . . where is it . . . I don't want to turn the lights on . . . crash. . . there went the grabber and something else off the bedside table to the floor. Woke Bob up, who turns on the lights, finds my phone, sets everything else back upright, empties the bag and asks what else he can do. I take my pills (the whole point of the alarm going off in the first place) and I'm all frustrated and angry and upset, so I forget to eat any crackers with the pills, even though I had Bob go get them the last time around for exactly this moment, and 20 minutes later I'm nauseous and they feel like they are stuck in the back of my throat. What is wrong with me? I can't focus, can't sleep, can't do anything for myself. I'm swollen up like a beached whale. I itch. Parts of my back feel like I might be getting little sores from lying on my back, which I rarely lie on, for so long. Bed sores. Really? How on earth does someone get so gross lying around all day? I need a shower sooooo badly but I can't even do that on my own. I am completely useless. Why did I even have this surgery? I just went in for a routine exam two months ago and now I'm without one organ and with another stinted and catheterized. I have hundreds of sutures and lost nearly half of my blood volume. What is wrong with me? Didn't I SEE that thing? It was disgusting. Thank God they got it out before it has taken over even more organs and I was rendered incontinent for the rest of my life. What is wrong with me? Oh, right, neither the bowels nor the ovaries that control my hormones have completely bounced back from the surgery I had just days ago. Why do I have to be so hard on myself? Wait, am I really getting angry at myself for getting angry at myself? Who am I?
The above was probably across a stretch of maybe five minutes. And the party went on most of the night in between dozing with odd dreams and berating and bemoaning my sad lot alone in the universe.
Aren't you sorry you missed it?
In the light of day, after having showered and gotten a fresh gown on, and eaten breakfast and taken more pain pills, even I wish I hadn't invited myself to that party of one. But in all honesty, that's where I was, and probably will be again, hopefully more briefly each time, as I give myself permission to grieve and heal. Someone else said yesterday, "your body doesn't know the difference between this and a life threatening car wreck where they had to open you up and stop the bleeding and remove organs to save your life. If that had happened, would you be as quick to tell yourself to get over it?"
So between Bob helping me get showered and Mom and Dad coming with breakfast and Starbucks, and my wonderful kids getting themselves up and out for school, and being waited on hand and foot, I'm going to take a nap to catch up on some of the sleep I didn't get last night. Today's goal is to try to be a little more kind to myself and a little more forgiving for all the things I can't do yet.
For anyone still listening, thanks for putting up with my nonsense. :)
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