Why Do They Fail To Warn Us ....

... about setbacks?  I mean, really?

I consider myself to be an "older" slightly mature, college-educated woman.  I have been through so much "stuff" in my life, that I'm going to have to stop typing for a moment and take a breather ...... or cry huge, somewhat bloody tears all over my keyboard.
So please bear with me for just a sec ......
I'll give you a topic upon which to think:  Santa ..... do you think he tries to go on a really low-carb diet starting in October so that he can make it through most of those chimneys?

OK, I'm back.  I have slightly more control than I did a few seconds ago.

So where was I?  Oh yes ..... sniff, sniff ..... the setbacks.

I do not consider myself to be a pessimist.   Not at all.  More of a realist, I think ..... and definitely not a Pollyannna.
I used to be more positive, and then one day I found out that I had been "bitch-slapped" (sorry for the language) by life overnight.
And the positive disappeared.  For a very, very long time.
But, thankfully, not permanently.
So I didn't lose all of my positiveness, but I gained a pretty healthy dose of reality, too.

And this dose has taught me that everything .... every single damn thing ..... has a setback.  If we've experienced enough of what life has to offer, we discover these setbacks on our own ..... through trial and error.
Sometimes a professional has enough foresight to tell us to expect a set back.  In fact, they're usually required by law to inform us of any and all possible setbacks.

Many people prefer to be surprised ..... they don't want to be warned of any supposed setbacks.  And I get that ..... truly.  Because who wants to hear about something bad that "might" happen, but then again, might not .... and then you suffered undo duress all because of what might have been.

I, on the other hand, have changed my opinion on that.
I need to know the possibilities ..... the setbacks ..... before they happen .... in case they happen.  I find that I can deal with setbacks if I know they're just lurking around the corner.
I hate the lurking.  Just jump out, already, give me the worst you've got, and then move on.

And it makes me crazy when people who should know better don't warn me about what might  happen.
These people sometimes fall under the category of medical personnel ..... doctors, nurses, surgeons, therapists, technicians ..... I could go on and on, but I think (I hope) that you get my drift.

Anyway, back to weekend, post surgery.

I slept all morning and then hung around with kids at home for the rest of the day.  I really needed that.

Sunday night was uneventful ..... as much as it could be, I guess, considering that I was sad, depressed, tired, sore, leaking blood from my sinuses ..... and I missed Jim.  And no matter how much I tried to sugar-coat it .... December 18th is still December 18th.  Ugh.

And then started another night of staying wide awake.  All.  Night.  Long.

I wish someone could've shot me.

But I finally made it to last night .....
We (D2, S1, and I) had a quiet evening at home planned.  Son #1 found a lovely recipe on the internet that involved pork chops, apples, carrots, a heavenly gravy/sauce and some delicious risotto.  Daughter #2  found a yummy cake called "Carmel Apple Cake with an apple cider icing'.  We were all in Fall Heaven.  We had invited a friend over for dinner earlier in the day .... and I think she was a little shocked to see how well my kids can cook/bake, considering that huge amount of DNA that courses through their bodies .... on accounta me.  :)
Although ..... huge clarification here, which most of you already now .... I used to enjoy cooking, very much, but the pressure and chore of constatntly coming up with new meals which needed to be doubled for 8 people, unless they hated them, which they mostly did ..... sucked all of that joy right out of my body.  I pray that it comes back some day.  Well, I kind of pray for that.  It would be lovely to cook for someone who enjoys food, and the time and effort it takes to prepare said food.  But, on the whole .... I really don't care if I ever cook for someone again.  So maybe I should pray (and ask for prayers) to just have the desire again. Cuz right now?  Not so dang much.  :)

SO ..... ANYHOOOOOO ..... I digress, yet again.

Dinner was wonderful.  The recipes were great.  Both kids did a very good job.

I, however, fell promptly asleep in less than 15 minutes before dinner was ready and then started to feel that "I'm-getting-the-flu-sweat" thing during dinner ..... and then had to stop eating,  Ironically, I wasn't eating all that much anyway.

We sat at the table for a bit longer and than D2 brought out her wonderful dessert.  It really was good, I could only manage to eat one small bite of it before that sweating thing kicked in again).

Everyone then got up and started the long job of cleaning up, which actually went pretty quickly since there were 4 of us.

As soon as we were done, or close to being done, I made my way to a recliner and tried not to move very much.

I was told that I looked a little "pasty" (people have SUCH a way with words, do they not?!)     :)

I was then advised to go straight to bed (it was not yet 8:00).  Another boringly fun night at our home.  

But I did end up in bed .... and asleep ..... shortly after 9:00.  Yay for me!!!

Before you get too excited .... the "Yay" did not last.

I woke up ..... straight up out of bed, at 10:30 p.m.  And preceded to toss and turn for another hour before I gave up and went into the family room to join the other kids.

Oh, yeah ..... and there was much gnashing of teeth and crying of tears during the tossing and turning.  Lots and lots of tears.  Have I told you how very much I HATE to not be able to sleep?  I doubt it.  It ranks right up there with one of the worst things ever for me.  Ever.  And it usually leads to some kind of panic attack, because it's just a vicious circle.  The longer I can't sleep, the longer it will be until I fall asleep. which directly corresponds to the amount of sleep I won't get until I have to wake up at 6:30 a.m., or whenever.  Then the panic turns to obsession, which leads to fear, which leads to panic .... and so on.
Sigh .....

Between the hours of 10:30 p.m. and 6:00 a.m. I managed to take 2 Ambiens, 1 Xanax, 2 Benadryls, and finally, 2 Tylenol p.m. tablets. (At least that's all I recall.  It could've been more, it could've been less.  Whatever it was .... it was too much that didn't do a damn thing).

Yes, I know how horrifically stupid that was.  Horrifically.    All I can say is that my body is starting to lose any semblance of control, the ability to sleep, and the blessing of sleeping any longer than 5 minutes at a time.  Nothing is working.  I have been overly medicated for at least the past 3 nights, yet my body shows no indication that it's taken any meds at all (until 11:00 a.m. rolls around and then I'm in a stupor for a few hours).   This has been horrible and frustrating, so I say, without one iota of humor, that I can totally understand how Heath Ledger &/or Michael Jackson could accidentally overdose because of the overwhelming biological need for sleep.

And I'm at a loss about what to do next.

Except to keep suffering set backs.

That's the reason this whole post was started in the first place.  But I managed to over-digress in my digression!  See?  I'm losing my mind!  I wonder if incontinence comes next?  Damn .... now I'll have to add Depends onto the grocery list.  

Sigh .....

So I went back for my second post-op visit today.

And it was ..... to put into one word ....... torturousllyhorribledeathbegginglifeending and just not fun.

I was unprepared for the pain.  Especially since it went so much better on Monday.  But today, today I may have set an all-time patient record for how far my butt was able to come out of my seat, while breathing through, and screaming out  of ..... of my nose.

The sinus cavity in the front of my head, which I failed to notice earlier today (a good thing I would suppose) feels like it's had large, sharp pieces of gravel shoved into it.

Gross alert:

While it seems that it's easy to keep most gunk and scabs soft during the constant spraying of saline solution I'm drowning myself in ...... things don't always happen quite they way that they should.  Or do we all believe that's just me?

Because while the surgeon was trying to push, probe, dig, grasp and hold me down (as was his assistant) I could hear the sounds that were emanating from the inside of my head ..... sounds that I never, EVER want to hear again ..... nor even dream about again!  

It seems that some of the ultra-powerful scabs have the unnatural ability to grow back into something very akin to a bone-like substance.  Which means they have to be broken .... much the way a piece of bone would.  And that, my Peeps, is just about the time my surgeon lost one if his appendages.  One of his very favorite, I suppose.  Oh, and yes, this was WITH lidocaine.  Lots and lots of lidocaine.  

It's a bit difficult to use anything close to Lamaze breathing when one's nostrils are barely numb, swollen, full of boney-scab-like-protrusions ..... and someone is shoving very long tools up there, stretching your nostril in much the same way things in other areas are stretched by the use of FORCEPS!!!

Trust me .... I've experienced both.  And at this point, I'm not certain which one I'd choose next time, if given the choice.

That visit was entirely too long and entirely too painful.  I could barely keep myself together as I left.  By the time I made it back to D2's car (THANKFULY she drove me ..... I would not have been able to drive after all of that) I was in full-tear-panic mode.  I cried most of the way home.  I cried if we drove over a bump.  I cried when someone texted me to ask how the appt went.  I cried when I realized that I'm probably not going to get a Christmas card done this year.

I cried when I wished Jim were here to at least have acted like he might've socked that doctor in the jaw.

And I've continued to cry at the thought of another sleepless night, leaving me beyond exhausted, sick to my stomach and an emotional slug tomorrow.

And truly, truly ...... all I would've needed is just one stupid "Head's Up" on this whole pain, gore, pain, boney mass, pain, drowning-in-salline-spray stuff.

Truly.

Just one wee bit of a head's up.

If you ever have that capability, Peeps ...... please give someone a "Head's Up".

They'll be forever grateful.

Happy Wednesday.

:)

P.S.  My next appointment with the surgeon is on Friday ..... down in Houston (yes, just hearing that almost made me cry more!).  He had no "head's up" to add for this next visit, either.
Can you all just pray that things are much better up there and are healing faster ..... and fully.  Because I'm really afraid that I'm going to call and cancel that appointment.  I kid you not.
I've been through more than my fair (ha!) share of pain ..... but this was beyond pain.  And I really don't think I can do it again.  Or at least I cannot put myself into a car and voluntarily drive myself down there.
Yes, I am a chicken.
But yes, I am an honest chicken ..... who's ready, willing and able to admit her weaknesses and faults.  And then of find a nice beach somewhere and ignore all of this.
:)