2013 You Have Been Interesting.......

As I'm scrolling down through my Facebook page, I see a resounding air of 
 '2013, you've been crap, can't wait to see the back of you. Bring on 2014' 

It's funny because I guess I feel like 2013 wasn't too crap for me. Don't get me wrong - some very crappy things happened. I had surgery in February, which was awful and the recovery was extensive, but it finally gave us answers about why I had been in so much pain. My mother's sister died in February and her brother died in September, they were both awful times, but it brought me closer to my Mother's family, I really got to know some of my cousins that I didn't really know when we were growing up because we lived so far away from each other. 
September also brought a change of Clinic, I finally listened to Gordon and went to Sims, this in turn, gave us the most heartbreaking news that we ever could have imagined, it knocked us back like we never could have imagined, it absolutely floored us, but it gave us answers, it removed all of our options except one, it gave us a definitive path that we have to take, a path of great uncertainty, but it saved us from years and years of treatment and inevitable heartbreak. We have a long way to go... but at least we know which way to go.
December brought my biggest operation to date, which involved me losing my left tube and the recovery is something I never imagined could be as difficult as it is, but with all of the 'badness' removed, once the recovery is complete, it should give me a whole new lease of life.
Ok... so some pretty crappy stuff happened in 2013, but gosh, I'm astounded at my ability to find the positives in those horrible situations.

I learned a lot in 2013, maybe I'm actually starting to 'grow up' :-). I learned who my real friends are, I learned who the ones I can depend on are, I learned who I can call on when I need something and who will be there when things aren't so good. I also learned of the people who are only my so-called-friends because it benefits them in some way, this was a huge awakening for me, it really opened my eyes and my eyes shall remain firmly locked open to this. 2013 was the year that I removed some people from my life, some of the people who really weren't good for me, people who caused me unnecessary stress and lived for pointless 'drama', but it has also allowed me to really focus on the people who I know are positive influences in my life and I so appreciate them and the fact that they also view me as a positive influence in their's.

I also learned a lot about myself. I learned that sometimes I get so hung up on things that seem hugely important at the time but are in fact pretty minuscule in the great scheme of things, that I end up missing some things that really are important and sometimes I fail to see the bigger picture because I'm so focused on the small things. I also learned a lot about other people, I learned that the people who are mean or nasty or judgmental are that way because of some failing within themselves, not because there is something wrong with me. I've learned that sometimes people say things that they don't really mean when they are angry or upset and that I should try not to take those things personally, no matter how hurtful it may have been. 

I also learned just how lucky I am, I've learned to focus positively on what I do have, instead of negatively on what I don't. Yes - bad things happen, they happen a lot, but good things also happen and I guess when horrible things happen to other people or we hear about bad things happening on the news, I can be thankful those things are not happening to us, and while we don't have and may never have what we truly want, we do have a lot and most importantly - we have each other.

Patrick might disagree with my next point, but I think 2013 was the year that we both finally realised that it's just the two of us, and we have to start living for just the two of us because that might be all there ever is. There is a huge possibility that we may never be able to have children, and you know... while that is an absolutely heartbreaking notion... if that is to be then so be it. 

Who knows what 2014 will hold, will it be the year that I finally manage to stay pregnant, or will it be the year that we find out that it is not even a possibility?. Whatever happens I do know that no matter how difficult it is to cope with or how bad it seems at the time, I know that we will somehow find the strength to get through it.

I know I've had some issues with 'hope' this year, and at several times I felt that I had been abandoned by hope and that I had abandoned all hope. I began to hate hope because I felt that it just gave me false expectations of what is going to happen and things never went the way I wanted them to and I guess it was easier to blame hope than to accept what was really going on. Probably the most important thing that I have learned this year is that if you don't have hope, you don't have anything, you may as well just give up. A very special friend of mine chose a very special and thoughtful gift for me to make sure that I always remember this and I'd like to share it with all of you.

Here it is...

So, that pretty much sums up 2013 for me, I'm going into 2014 with a very open mind. I have no real expectations. but I do have hope and I do have faith and belief that no matter what happens, we will get through it. Life will be what we make it.

It feels kinda weird to finish this post and not mention Gordon, who has done so much for us in the past 12 months. I can't imagine what this journey would have become if we didn't have his guidance and support but I do know that I would have struggled to find the strength and endurance to overcome all of the hurdles that we have overcome if Gordon hadn't been an integral part of our journey... and we both know that if someday we do manage to hold our own baby in our arms - it will be solely and completely because of Gordon Mullins and Aculife Clinic.

Tomorrow is the first day of 2014, the first day of a brand new year, a brand new blank 365 page-a-day diary...

Make it a good read.xx.

Only Human...

Turns out that not getting any sleep the night before the operation was actually a really good thing, coz when I was brought to my room to wait to be called... I actually fell asleep, so I was sleeping instead of laying there panicking and freaking out. The panicking and freaking out only started when they came to bring me down to theatre, and as soon as I was laying on the operating table with the needle in my hand - they gave me a relaxant and I suddenly became one of the many defiant toddlers who have just discovered the power of the word 'NO' that I see at work every day. I had started to panic and was feeling like I couldn't really breathe so the nurse told me that they were going to start putting the anesthetic into my arm and I would go off for a nice sleep..... my response... "I will not". She then followed with "You're gona go off for a lovely rest now" my response "No, I'm not!" Even as I could feel my arm burning from the liquid and my face was beginning to burn and I could feel myself losing control of my eyelids... I was adamant that I was not going to go to sleep and I'd really much rather just go home...... and then I woke up... almost 4 hours later.

Yep, I spent 4 hours in theatre and the pain was bad when I woke up, but the worst part was the tube in my throat had gotten stuck and I had locked my teeth around it so they had to wake me up completely so that I would open my mouth wide enough for them to remove the tube, that was the most awful sensation and my throat was in bits after it.
They gave me the maximum doses of morphine and once I had stabilised, they brought me back to my room where I sent a few text messages in between dozing in and out of sleep.

Patrick was back to see me before I knew it and he reiterated my own surprise at how good I was feeling in comparison to previous surgeries. I didn't know it at the time but it was due to the amount of pain medication that they had given me and the fact that I was breathing 100% pure oxygen through the tube in my nose.

Dr. Hayes came around to see me later that evening and he said that it couldn't have gone better, he was very happy with how it had all gone. He showed me pictures of both of my tubes. The right one was tiny and perfectly formed, the left one was swollen and mangled and looked more like brains to me than a fallopian tube - it really was no wonder I had been in so much pain with it. he then informed me that even though I wasn't feeling too bad right then, that I could expect to have an awful amount of pain in a few days time and to really not expect much ease from it for 6 to 8 weeks, and realistically I can expect to not be pain free for about 6 months. I kept telling myself that once that passes it should make a huge difference to how I feel and how I am.

I spent a few days in hospital and I really wasn't too bad even when I got home. It was really only the following Thursday, 6 days after the surgery (which also happened to be my 30th birthday) that I really started to feel miserable. Gordon came to visit me in the morning, he took my pulses and said that my liver points were screaming at him. He warned me that the points he was about to put needles in would really hurt, but they would only hurt for a minute or so and then it would disperse... and he was right. He used points in the upper part of both of my feet and good grief did they hurt, but just like he said... they stopped hurting after a short amount of time.

It was actually quite nice to just sit there and chat with him, it was very relaxed and I felt that it really was an amazing session. Gordon finished up and left after about an hour and I instantly felt really sleepy, I was completely zonked. I don't really remember but I think I may have dozed off for a bit... and then... it happened - I started to cry, I don't know why I was crying, all I know is that I couldn't stop crying. I cried for the best part of four hours, inconsolably an emotional wreck, I just could not stop crying. I think it was a combination of being exhausted coz I hadn't really been sleeping and having the full extent of the pain finally hit me, and the fact that I was spending my 30th birthday laid up, unable to move, completely miserable. I finally started to come round and could feel myself finally be able to stop crying... and then there was a knock on the door... It was only a delivery man with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers from all of the people I work with, and cards that all of the children at work had made for me... and well... that started me off again and I was a sobbing, emotional mess for pretty much the rest of the evening.

A few days after I had gotten home from hospital, I had noticed that I was getting a funny kind of pain in my left leg. I kept brushing it off as just being a bit crampy from not being active, until the night before Christmas Eve (well really 3am on Christmas Eve), the pain in my leg got quite intense and my foot was feeling numb and swollen. I instantly got a feeling that I had a blood clot in my leg and needed to go and have it checked out immediately (At 3am on Christmas Eve). Really, it was just as well that I did, because it turned out that I had developed a rather small clot just below my knee on my left leg. They weren't too worried about it because of where it was located and the risk of it travelling was low, but not wanting to take any chances with a deep vein thrombosis, they put me on daily Innohep injections to keep my blood thin and to prevent the clot from growing. So, I am injecting myself daily into my already swollen and bruised stomach.

Its been just over 2 weeks since the surgery and I have really struggled with the pain this last week. I am acutely aware of the amount of cauterisation that had to be done internally, because the pain I feel is the pain of charring and searing and burning and it hurts, my gosh does it hurt. It stabs deep inside me every time that I move, and I realise that I had seriously underestimated the severity and intensity of this recovery. 
We went to my Mum's house for dinner on Christmas day, a short 2 mile trip and sitting up for about 3 hours meant that by the time I got home, I was unable to move, I was crippled with pain and I spent most of the following day just vomiting with some kind of stomach bug, it was just horrible. I was beginning to feel better by the next day and soon I was able to tolerate food again.

It's been a bit trial and error trying to find a pain killer that suits me and is strong enough to deal with the severity of pain that I am experiencing. I'm a bit odd about taking pain killers, especially opiates, I just don't like how they make me feel, but I think we have finally found a pain killer that seems to be suiting me, its just a matter of getting the dosage correct now. It is a two part drug. The first part is a prolonged release drug that is to be taken twice a day; in the morning and at night. The second part is a fast acting drug that can be taken every 4 hours to top up the prolonged release drug and keep on top of the pain. We are kind of playing with dosages to try and get it to where I need it to be, so that I am getting adequate pain relief without the horrible sensations and side effects.

I had a bit of a melt-down on Saturday night just gone. I think it was a combination of not sleeping, being completely exhausted, perhaps some cabin fever from inactivity, generally being a bit up and down and the painful irony that I am so swollen and bruised that I actually look about 8 months pregnant. I found myself beginning to write, it was angry, pain-filled writing, writing that I told myself I would not put on this blog because I was perhaps embarrassed or ashamed that I could have filled a swear jar with the first paragraph alone. But I think the right thing to do is for me to share it on here, because it is true to me and it is a true representation of what I am actually going through right now and that afterall, is what this blog is all about, so here goes... 

So here I am again, this mother f'n shithole of a place that I continually return to, guided only by my personal struggle to stay alive, to work through the pain - the physical pain. "It will get easier" of course it f'n will, meanwhile put your man parts through the f'n blender and then try to empathise, then tell me that it will be ok, then tell me that you understand, that you feel my pain. You can't f'n feel it, it's mine, it's always mine. 

Surgery after surgery, all leading to and accumulating to be this surgery. I've felt pain, I've felt pain in doses that most people will never experience, I've never felt pain like this. This is pain caused by cauterisation, by burning, by singeing and searing, the vacant space left by the removal of my mangled left tube, it's not vacant. It's filled with burning, the pain is of my charred insides and every time I move, it stabs me, it stabs deep inside me and that f'n hurts!

I was doing so well, it was too easy, I knew it was too good to be true. My mind tricked me into thinking that this was gona be easy, that I could do this with no great problems... Of course that couldn't be the case. My body strikes with a curve ball - a blood clot, of course I need a f'n deep vein thrombosis on top of everything else, of course I need to be injecting myself into my already painfully swollen and bruised stomach every day just so it doesn't travel to my heart or brain and kill me... Of course I do, why wouldn't I.... It's not like I have anything f'n better to be doing.

Am I angry? No, I'm not angry. Anger would be too easy. No part of this is easy. 'Oh just try to relax and take some more drugs'. A junkie's idea of heaven.

Wouldn't it be so easy to let those drugs take my mind to a place where it is easy, where I'm so off my f'n face that I don't feel any pain, instead my days can be filled with rainbows and f'n butterflies and I could live in a hole of blissful obliviousness  - oh how easy it would be.

Maybe I am angry, maybe I'm just losing my mind or maybe, just maybe...
This is all part of the plan. I have no idea who's plan it is, it certainly isn't mine. I never asked for this, I never wanted this and I have no f'n idea what I did to deserve it!

I'd quite like to sleep, real sleep. I'd quite like to not be told that I'm looking a bit better when I'm feeling like my abdomen has been through 12 rounds with Mike Tyson and I look about 8 months pregnant, the f'n irony...!!! It's almost laughable. I wish I could laugh, but it hurts too much. I wish I could have a break from the pain, just a break from it, just enough so that I can prepare myself for it, coz I really wasn't prepared for this. I thought I was, but I seriously underestimated this. I didn't realise that it would be so much, so intense, so inconceivably painful and it's messing with my head because I can't escape it.

I'd like it to just stop for a while....

While I so hard try to keep it together and remain strong through whatever I am going through, sometimes it all does get on top of me, especially at times like this when I am not able to keep myself busy or completely occupied and I really am struggling with the pain and soreness.

I guess it is really just a matter of taking it one day at a time. It is a harsh realisation that I am in fact, only human (well... for the time being... while my super-human powers are temporarily subdued). So... one day at a time and fingers crossed that this will all have been worth it and perhaps, just perhaps... this could possibly be the end of operations for a while. I think the two surgeries I have had within 9 months of each other this year, following all of the previous operations that I have been through... I'm probably set for a few surgery-free years. Gosh I'll hardly know what to do with myself if I am not being sliced open regularly :-)

Pre-Op Freak Out.......

So yeah... I'm having surgery in just over 6 hours. It is advisable to get a good night's sleep before any kind of operation or procedure..... so why can't I sleep...??? Oh Yeah.... COZ I'M HAVING SURGERY IN JUST OVER 6 HOURS...!!!

I'm not sure what is bothering me more... the being sliced open OR the fact that they have to use a large metal speculum as part of the hysteroscopy procedure, Ok I know I'm going to be asleep for all of this and won't know a thing about it, but they're gona be sticking something that closely resembles a car jack up my you-know-what... (we all know how well I do with the medium sized speculums they use for transfers)... while slicing me open to complete that and the many other procedures that they have to do.

One of my least favourite parts of any surgical procedure is the clean-room right outside the operating theatre, for one thing, it has a very distinct smell, a memory-provoking smell which I absolutely hate, but apart from that, its the loneliness, I will be alone at this point. I will have to leave Patrick at the end of the corridor and I will be alone... being alone is a lot scarier when you are half blind and can't have your glasses or contact lenses with you, unable to focus on anything, visually or physically, I suppose. 

The anaesthetist will come and talk to me, he'll make some jokes to try and put me at ease, I'll imagine that I politely giggle, but in fact I'll probably look at him like he's bloody insane... how the hell could I be at ease...??? Then the surgeon will come and talk to me, make sure he has everything in order and is 100% clear on what he is to do. Meanwhile, I will see many nurses, each of then trying to reassure me, while also trying to assure themselves and the anaesthetist that I am in fact the right patient, with the right date of birth. They will be fascinated with my story, they always are and it is always a fantastic talking point, a way to keep the conversation flowing while they wheel me in to the operating theatre. It always reminds me of how my childhood image of being abducted by aliens looks (I have two older brothers, who spent the first 8 years of my life thinking up creative ways to scare the sh*t out of me...!!!). The huge round lights, the people wearing masks, all of the equipment..... and then there's the table. They will instruct me to transfer myself from the trolley to the operating table. Every time I feel like point blank refusing, but I do it anyway. The instructions will follow to find the outside of the table at each side and centre myself on the table. They will then tell me to lay back and relax (Relax..... are you freakin kidding me...???). I'll lie back a certain amount, but not fully. I need to be semi-sitting up, I need to be able to see (theoretically) what is going on around me, so they will either give me something to put under my head or they will raise up the head of the table for me. They will keep talking to me, keep reassuring me... while the anaesthetist searches my arms for a decent vein to put the cannula into. He'll have trouble with this because I have terrible veins but eventually he will find one. Once the cannula is in, he will put a relaxant through it and suddenly I will feel like this ain't so bad. Then I will keep talking... and talking... and talking... :-) In just a few minutes, he will tell me that I'm going to be going off to sleep now as he injects the white liquid into my arm... it will burn, my veins will feel like they are on fire. I will lock my eyes with the eyes of one of the nurses and I will fight with complete stubbornness, I am, of course, fighting a losing battle because within seconds I will lose control of my eyes...... and then.... I'll wake up. As I'm coming around I will feel them removing the tube from my throat... that's rather unpleasant, but it is very quick... and I will notice myself talking... and talking... and talking, probably spouting some serious mumbo-jumbo because the nurses are usually laughing.......... and then the pain in my abdominal area will hit me, it kinda takes your breath away when it hits and the nurses will work as quickly as they can to give me some morphine to take the edge off of it. 

And then I will realise that it is all over, and all of that worrying and freaking out was for nothing. I will spend a while in the recovery room and then eventually they will wheel me back to my bed. The transfer from trolley to bed is always a seemingly impossible feat but somehow I always manage it. All I will want to do is call Patrick and let him know that I am out of theatre. I will be on oxygen for a few days after the surgery as I tend to have respiratory problems after anaesthesia, but once that has stabilised, I will want to come home. Several times I have come home too soon after surgery because I just so badly want to get home. I hate being in hospital, I tend to get very down and I miss Lulu something awful. This time I will follow the Dr's instructions on when it is safe for me to go home, I've never had an operation this big before, so I think its best that I follow the instructions I am given.

And that's pretty much that. I will go home and will rest and try my best to keep positive.

I was seriously freaking out for the past few hours, but somehow - writing this has helped to settle my nerves and anxiousness. It has reminded me that none of this is a surprise to me, I know exactly how it is going to play out, I know exactly how it is going to happen and I will get through it.

It's times like this that I find myself being so thankful that I ever started this blog in the first place. Writing helps me and I know that I can turn to writing when I need to and it will help me. Putting words on the screen like this really does help to clarify what is really going on and to get to the root of the emotions I am really feeling, the ones that are being clouded by nerves and anxiousness.

I'm not sure I'll be any more able to sleep than I was an hour ago, but I think having written this will help me to have an easier time tomorrow morning. I know what is going to happen... I just have to get through it... one step at a time.......

Surgery Tomorrow.......

Two weeks ago, I started feeling a pain in my left side, it was a very familiar pain and followed an exact cycle that I have experienced quite a few times.... I had an ovarian cyst. The pain was more annoying than anything and was accompanied by a lot of abdominal pressure and swelling.

10 days ago, late in the evening the pain got extremely intense and suddenly it went from being concentrated just on my left side to encompassing my entire abdominal area and the feeling of pressure and swelling became a lot more intense. I went to the hospital for an ultrasound the following morning to have my fears confirmed - The cyst had ruptured. They admitted me to hospital straight away and the plan was to operate as soon as possible. Well, that was the plan until they discovered that the ruptured cyst had caused an abdominal infection. I spent a few days in hospital on IV antibiotics and was then allowed home to take antibiotics and pain killers.

The originally scheduled surgery is going ahead tomorrow morning, my feelings about it are a bit in limbo really. I'm kinda flittering back and forth between freaking out and wanting it over with.

We worked out the other night that this is surgery number 10 for me, and doesn't that seem to be the magic number for me - 10 little angels and 10 operations.

I guess with nine surgeries under my belt I should be fairly used to it by now, but unfortunately experience isn't really working in my favour. I can't help recalling the horrible feeling when you feel yourself losing consciousness, the panickiness when you realise that you have no control over it, once that needle is in your arm, there is no longer anything you can do, anything that happens from that point onwards is completely in the hands of the surgeon and the anaesthetist and the nurses. And knowing that when I wake up after this operation I am going to be in pain, and I will be in a lot of pain for many weeks after this operation.

I'm trying to keep busy this evening, trying not to think too much about how anxious I am or how tomorrow is going to play out. I am sad that I am going to lose my left tube, but I know that has to happen, it just feels that I will be 'incomplete' or something, but I know it is for the best and it will hopefully solve some of the other problems I have been experiencing.

We have to leave the house at 7 in the morning and I am booked into theatre for 8:30, I don't know how long I will be in theatre, but I imagine it will be a few hours anyway with the amount they have to do.

I've gotten some lovely calls and messages today, all wishing me well. I appreciate that so much. Truth is I'm on the verge of properly freaking out and know that I will be a lot worse tomorrow morning

Gotta look to this time tomorrow evening  when it will hopefully be all over and all I will have to worry about then is recovering and getting home and then more recovering......