Fill up

I’m in much better spirits after a great holiday with my family. I had a really good Christmas. One of the best in years. All of my sibling made it, which hasn’t happened in many a moon.

I’ve started taking Lyrica and am shocked by how well I’ve slept the past couple of nights. It’s a drastic difference. I’ve been taking Ambien to try and help but it just wasnt cutting it. I havent had such a solid nights sleep in a very long time.

I’m working on getting my Humira through a assistance program.

But I’m still stuck on the custom orthopedic insoles. I’ve tried several kinds off the shelf, and several months ago I bought an expensive pair of shoes but nothing has cut it. I really don’t know what to do about it.

My last post was just me at a very low point. I’m sure everyone reading this understands how difficult it is to always be fighting. Sometimes it just feels like the whole world is trying to bring you down. Insurance companies, pharmacies, and your own body. Sometimes I feel like I just can’t take another blow and I dont want to fight anymore. I get tired of struggling just to have enough to eat every month. Let alone come up with seven hundred dollars for something  to stop the pain.

But my happy tank is pretty full now after seeing my family. It’s a bit cheesy and the cynic in me usually balks at such sentimentality, but I enjoyed myself anyway.

I hope everyone else had a great holiday!


New Knee Part 1

Im at home and recovery nicely. I was only in the hospital from Monday through Wednesday afternoon.

So….overall……this has been the best thing ever! The actual surgery went really well and it wasn’t nearly as bad as I was expecting. In fact, the post op pain is nothing compared to what it was before surgery.

They had me up and walking within a few hours of my surgery and I had to stop because my OTHER knee was hurting too bad! Not the one that was just replaced. It still blows my mind.

And it’s straight! For the first time in YEARS I have a straight knee. The surgery took about an hour longer than he expected because the bones were bent and stuck so badly. But the whole procedure was under three hours.

I arrived at the hospital at six in the morning. My best friend joined me for moral support. The I.V. was my least favorite part, just as I suspected it would be. The nurse had to do it twice after a vein was blown. I waited around for about twenty minutes, and then they rolled me into the operating room. I didn’t even have to have a catheter. Thank God.

I was out really quickly and they put the tube in my throat after I was passed out and took it out before I was up. Then they took me to recovery and gave me some Morphine. Which did not work. Then something else (Vicodin maybe?) Which still didn’t help. Then they gave me a shot of Demerol which was magic. Lol.

After that, I went to my room and everything went very smoothly. Everyone I came into contact with, from the nurses, to the physical therapist, to the social workers, were amazed at my age. They kept saying it was so weird to see someone under 70 getting this procedure. In fact, when going over paperwork, I had to answer questions like ” Do you have your own teeth?” 

So now I’m at home. My friends managed to find another mattress to make my bed higher. The hospital sent me home with a CPM machine which is amazing. I just put my leg in it, plug it in, and it exercises my leg for me. They also sent me home with this ice pack machine which constantly flows ice cold water over my knee. I also had a literal tub of medications beside me.

Today I’m feeling pretty good. My muscles were the sorest after surgery. He had to manipulate them quite a bit since they were so bent for so long. So they have hurt way for then my actual knee. My knee isn’t so bad. It just makes my whole leg feel so so so tight. Mostly just uncomfortable. I can put all my weight on it, which is amazing.

Anyways, I’m still doped up from all the different meds, so I feel like taking a doze. I just wanted to give a quick update. I’ll write more about my stay later.

Im in a funk

Ive spent the past couple days painting an old dressing table my aunt gave me. I’ve been taking it slow. Just a little bit at a time. My brother helped by sanding it first and at the moment its still sitting on my porch half painted. It has this huge round mirror attached. Its pretty. I sort of hate it right now though.

I live in Texas so of course its oppressively hot already.  Which means, its tank top time. Which means that while Im sitting in front of this thing painting, I keep catching glances of myself in the mirror. Its the bright red that I keep catching out of the corner of my eye.

When you avoid mirrors and refuse to look at yourself when you undress, then self denial really can work.

These stretch marks aren’t going to go away though. They’re very deep. They are very red, and they are everywhere.  They stretch all the way across my arms, all the way to my elbows. Its the first time Ive seen them from straight on. Sometimes at night when I’m reading, and laying on my side, I can see them on the inside of my upper arm. I just pull my sleeve down more, and try to ignore it.

And its not just my arms. Its my legs. They’re all over my legs. They go as far down as my knees. Damnit! I asked and asked and asked to get off the stupid fucking pills! Damnit! ARG! I’m so angry right now. My stomach is covered. You’d think I just had a baby. My hips are disgusting. You can see where my skin was stretched too far.

I really thought I was doing well with all of this. I try not to care. I try not to be superficial. But I’m over 200 pounds now. And Ive never been over 135. And even if I lose the weight, Ill still have these marks all over my body.  Nobody wants to see that. I cant even look at it.

It took me years to become comfortable with my body. The whole time I was growing up I was always very self conscious. I was always really hard on myself. But I came to a point where I honestly became comfortable with myself, and actually came to like all the things about myself that I used to hate. My pale skin, and big butt. Freckles. I liked them. I liked the weight I was at.

And then all this shit. Even when my knees became permanently bent I was still optimistic. I still looked pretty good, right? Maybe I could meet someone who would look past that. I mean, eventually when Im well enough, and some had some insurance I’d be able to start physical therapy. Or eventually I’d be able to get knee replacements. Then people wouldn’t stare at me when I walked. I’d look normal again, and then maybe someone wouldn’t care about all my health issues if it wasn’t so blatantly obvious.

God, sometimes I just think….. I dont know. I just feel like I’ll be this way forever.

Yesterday, my little brother was sitting with me on the porch while I painted and we were chatting. He always cheers me up. Well, my little hooligan of a cousin came up with a couple of his friends. When they walked up onto the porch I heard one of them say “Ugh.” Now of course I have no idea what he was saying that for, but my brother had murder in his eye, and the little kid kept saying “I’m sorry man, I was just kidding. ” When I asked what they were talking about my brother just avoided my eye, and said nothing and changed the subject. My cousin asked him if he’d show his friends a few things on the guitar, and he told them to come tomorrow.  Now I have no reason to believe that the little 13 year old punk was talking about me, but thats where my mind immediately went. And I was sitting in front of this stupid giant mirror, and I could see why someone would say ugh to that. Poofy moon face. Stretch marks out for anyone to see.

I dont want to think about it anymore. Im going to go bury myself in a book, and try try try to get to sleep.  Insomnia is bad enough by itself. Having insomnia while in a funk is worse.

It’s not me. It’s you.

OK, maybe this is selfish of me. But I just going to go ahead and say it.

I am so unbelievably sick to death of people.

I feel like I spend my days taking care of everyone else. I have had an awful week. Full of pain, lack of sleep, and extreme nausea. I just want to be left alone. Wednesday I was trying to sleep off my nausea and I kid you not; my phone rang thirteen times in under 3 hours. I could not make this crap up. Everyone wanted something. The same people would call over and over. Everyone wanted to complain about their problems and whine incessantly about every little problem.

I cant sympathize with them. I can not make myself care. And it isnt their fault.

I just want to be a recluse.

One of them even decided to just showed up after I ignored her calls. She came to my house, and when I didn’t answer the door, she walked into my home. She walked all the way to my bedroom. When she opened the door, I put my head under the blanket. She came in anyways! She sat in there for two hours. Even after I told her how terrible I felt. She still kept talking….

I mean, my God, I was not even wearing pants! I was in bed of course, but that is not the point. No pants=no visitors. Don’t people understand this? In what culture is that ok?

So, Im just going to have to be less nice. I want to be left alone to wallow in self pity.

I do ok alone. I am not one of those sad miserable people who shouldn’t be left alone because they become depressed or suicidal. I’m one of those people who become depressed when I don’t have enough alone time.

But I can not do that. Because the people in my life think it is all about them. Everyone thinks it’s about them.