Tuesday evening shower thoughts...

I can't believe I'm showering at 7:45.  That seems way too early to get getting ready for bed. But, I have to take care of Big Bertha and I might as well get it out of the way.

Speaking of... I think I'll let some more water hit the bandaid before I try to take it off.  Stupid Walgreens paper tape.  I can't believe it ripped off that many layers of my skin.  I suppose it's kind of neat that FrankenTummy is missing skin in a perfect 4x4 square frame-style shape.  Maybe I'll make it a trend... like... yin yang tattoos.

Hot water on my sore shoulder is like a damn miracle EVERY stinkin time.  Hallelujah!

Mmmm... man, I never get sick of the smell of this shampoo.  The first and almost only smell Ellie and I have ever agreed on.  And it goes so well with my new soap!  I'm glad it was on sale at Target.

I should probably stop avoiding Big Bertha.  EEK!  I just.  Don't.  Want to.  *sigh*  Band-aid first. Slowly... slooooooowly.. more water!  More water!  Owie Owie! Slooooowly.  Okay.  Outer flexible fabric cover has been removed.  Now for the gauze.  This is so much easier than before.  I'm doing such a good job!  I'm not even crying *sings* toootally not crying, I'm so not crying.  LALALA not cryi... I... no... I am doing a good job, here... god dammit... if you... just... COME OUT!  ACK! MOTHER FUCKER!  This is never going to be less awful.  I wonder how long I'm going to have to do this.  I bet it's going to be forever.  Blagh.  I'm going to call the doctor tomorrow and get an appointment.  I'll feel better and worry less about what color drainage means what.  I'm super glad I have Aunt Kathleen to call and talk about this stuff with, but, she's right... I shouldn't be worrying about that.  I should be calm and know that orange-y yellow means... something not bad and any-doctor-but-Brewer will reassure me of that.  Letting the soap and water wash over and in the wound... .oooover and ... back to the other thing... in... ick.  Oooooover.  Okay.  Done with that.

I should probably exfoliate my face.  It's a little rough feeling... but... what if some of the crunchies in my exfoliating facial cleanser somehow wash over and into Big Bertha??  I... think... I can probably wait a little longer.  I mean... it's cool.  I'll make this a trend too.

I haven't blogged in a couple days.  Maybe I should blog tonight.  Yeah.  I'm gonna get out of the shower, do that other stuff I have to do and then BLOG!  About STUFF.  Maybe I'll give a BB update and talk about the GOOD things that have been happening lately so people don't think I'm totally miserable and dying alone in my apartment.  I mean... she really only takes up, like, 2.5 hours of my day.  Which leaves a whole... uh... 22, no... 21.5? Whatever hours left!  DOOOOOIN' IIIIIT!

I use WAY less conditioner now that my hair is short.  That's probably going to save me some money which will TOTALLY balance out how much I paid for it.  And maybe let me afford highlights.  It's worth it.  I love this cut.  I'm glad I went to Jesse.  Jessey?  Whatever.  She's awesome.  I'm gonna put that in the blog. I should link a picture.  I... don't want to take one tonight, so I'll use that one from Sara.

Wonder what that bitch is up to?  She better not be watching West Wing without me.

I'm really glad I can eat soft foods now.  They're almost as good as real foods and they are TOTALLY a step in that direction!  

I HAVE to get more protein in.  And more water.  I haven't consumed nearly enough.  Not even a little bit.  Time to crack down cuz I'm not gonna lose more if I don't eat more.  I'm really lucky that I haven't had any problems eating or drinking things.  It ALMOST makes Big Bertha worth it cuz it would fucking SUCK BALLS to feel sick like that all the time.

Is it weird that I hear Josh laughing every time I say or think something about protein?  He's pretty much ruined my life with that.  *sigh*  

Okay.  All washed up.  Not-gonna-shave-because-who's-gonna-care.  Am gonna exfoliate because it's not realistic to worry about that.  One last rinse of BB and now it's time for the gauze stuffing, bandaging, and Heparen injection.  Heeeey!  I think I only have 3 more to go!  25 shots down, 3 to go.  I am a total BAD-fucking-ASS.

God DAMN this fake hardwood floor is cold.

Hemato-WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!?!?

Hello Loves,

Today I'm going to write about my traumatic doctor's appointment yesterday.  It would be ill advised to continue to read if you do not want to hear the yucky and the gross involved.

So... I would stop reading now if it's gonna bother you.  I promise, I won't mind.  I'll even make note right before I get into the real grossies.

Yesterday morning I went in to have the last of my staples removed from the incision I have been affectionately referring to as "Big Bertha".  Big Bertha is the largest of my incisions.  She sits directly over where most of the action took place and guards many many internal sutures and general owwies.

I was able to get all the other staples removed from all the other incisions on Monday but Bertha was... well... she had been draining a bit and was SUPER sore so the doctor and I decided to leave them in until Friday.

On the night before my ill fated doctor's appointment (Thursday) I had been hanging out with Sara and commented that I still didn't feel like things were okay with Bertha.  I mentioned that it was still really hard and swollen all around the staples... pretty far around them actually.  I was concerned that maybe the internal sutures had torn or that things were just not healing at the incision site correctly and I was going to talk to the MD about it at my appointment.

Fast forward about 12 hours to Friday morning.  My favorite nurse and I discussed my weight loss, she felt around the incision and determined that there wasn't any heat coming from it and let me know that some times there is just a lot of swelling with that particular incision but it should go down after the staples are removed. 

Boy oh boy... she had no idea how accurate that statement was.

Extracting staples, as it turns out, is exceptionally easy.  She popped out those 5 bad boys and turned to throw them away when all hell broke lose.

** This is the part where I start talking about gross things **

I looked down and shifted just enough to see the actual incision when all of a sudden a thick and heavy stream of blood started POURING out of it.  I cupped a hand beneath Bertha, felt blood start to pool in it and exclaimed something profound like "OH MY GOD!".  Leslie (my favorite nurse) turned from the sink and also said "OH MY GOD!" grabbed some gauze, pressed it to BB and then ran out to the hall to yell for Doctor Brewer.  Her exact words (I'm not sure I'll ever forget) were "Doctor Brewer.  Doctor BREWER!  We need you in here.  It's an emergency".    Bless her heart.  I'm sure she was trying to get his attention, but it scared the every living shit out of me.

Dr. Brewer came in with Cody, the PA, and they both gloved up and started grabbing gauze.  I was on the verge of absolute blind panic and could feel myself giving that wild-eyed scared-animal look to Cody while I stammered out "What's happening?? WHAT'S HAPPENING?  I don't understand... what's going on?!?!"  He responded, quite UN-helpfully with "We don't know yet".

Now comes the interlude where I sit back and try to calm down while Cody and Doc B spend several minutes trying to soak up the blood that is still emptying from my body.  I forced Dr Brewer to tell me REPEATEDLY that everything was okay and that I was going to be fine.  Mostly because it didn't FEEL like that was the case.  It felt like I was bleeding.  A LOT.  It felt scary and disorienting and painful.  It felt like absolute terror mixed with a tinge of horror at the sheer amount of blood that was, just, escaping.

FINALLY he told me what was happening (Dr. Brewer, thy name is not synonymous with bed side manner).  Evidently we just discovered that I had a hematoma (A localized swelling filled with blood resulting from a break in a blood vessel) the size of a softball leftover from my surgery.    I wasn't ACTUALLY bleeding... it was the hematoma draining.  Dr Brewer said, at one point after everything had calmed down, "I'm pretty sure we told you it would drain" and I responded with "I'm pretty sure you did NOT tell me the draining would look like ALL OF MY BLOOD WAS LEAVING MY BODY".  It's possible that Dr. Brewer doesn't want to be my doctor anymore.

This whole process was disgusting and gory.  They pushed on it and got all of the blood and clotting out.  It made noise, there was more bleeding.  It was a fucking horror movie.

But that's not even the worst part (for me).  The WORST part is that after it was drained, I was informed that I would have to tuck a corner of a piece of gauze into my OPEN WOUND every night so it could drain further.  Every night for... until it's healed.  WHEN WILL THAT BE?!?!?!

Me.  Tucking guaze.  Into a wound.   That is open.  A deep incision that is just hanging out on MY FrankenTummy.

This sounds like maybe not a big deal.  It certainly wasn't to Dr. Brewer.  But to ME?  This is a god damn nightmare.  I'm not kidding you.  I am borderline phobic about this.  He told me to just take a shower and pull out the guaze he'd tucked in there and then let the water and soap wash in and over the wound.

I'm gagging and curling in on myself a little as I write this.

I had my first attempt last night.  LATE last night.  It was... omg... one of the lowest and most horrible moments of my life.  I cried so hard in the shower I was afraid I was going to wake the neighbors.  I was that crazy chick sobbing in the shower in that one movie where the crazy chick does that.  Why, you ask?  Because no matter how I tried I could not get the gauze out.  I wiggled it and tugged on it and pulled gently.  I, on the verge of hyperventilating, pulled firmly and rocked back and forth until it finally pulled out.  It was the size of the top half of my pinkie finger.

I dry heaved.  In my shower.  Had there been food in my tummy I'm sure I would have just straight up vomited.

I was so tired and so freaked-the-fuck out that I couldn't even process putting a new piece back in.  I had to call MY MOM to talk me into it.  And by that I mean I had to babble incoherently while sobbing at her that I can't do it.

I started and stopped and started and stopped at least a half dozen times before I was finally able to get the job at least partially done. 

I have no idea if I did it right.  It doesn't FEEL like I did.  It hurts more than when Dr Brewer did it.  It's not draining as much.  The whole area feel warm to the touch and I am TOTALLY messed up about the fact that I have to do it AGAIN TONIGHT.

If you've managed to read up until this point, I'm impressed.

I have no idea how I'm gonna manage to take care of this business this evening.  It's just about that time and I'm just about boggled.

Guess I'll just find my way to the same point I got to last night.

On a good note, at least yesterday, the doctor said there was no sign of infection, so we're gonna keep on keeping it that way.

I am so SO thankful this happened at their office and not at home.

Anyway... Wish me luck.  Send me good vibes as it is once more unto the breach I go.

Love ya,
Mamy

My stay at the hospi-tel. Hospital + Hotel. See what I did there?

Hello Loves,


Sorry it has been so long since my last blog update but I have been very busy recovering from my surgery.  To those who have been concerned, I just got back from my 1st post-surgical check up and I am doing super well!!!!

I really wanted to blog about my hospital stay.  Why?  Because it was SO nice.

My surgery was scheduled at Forest Park Medical Center in Dallas.  The facility is AMAZEBALLS.  I thought it was gorgeous a month ago when I went in for my EGD, but THIS time I had a room.  Even better, the hospital fates smiled upon me and I ended up in a VIP room after my surgery.

If it were not for the rails on the bed and the IV stand I would swear I was in a 5 star.  Now, I admit, I have not been a frequenter of fine hotels.  I've been known to go for the cheap stay over the star count (Chris T, if you're reading this... remember that hotel in NoLA??)  so I'll attach a bunch of pictures I took below.  But be advised, I was really REALLY high on pain killers at the time sooo quality isn't really a thing with them.

Now that we've talked about the aesthetics, lets get to the nitty gritty.  The staff.

I have absolutely nothing but brilliant things to say about them.  My nurses and techs were the kindest people I have ever met.  They literally took care of every single thing I could possibly need and anything my sweet friend (and non-medical care taker Sara) asked for.  Frequently they thought of stuff I didn't.  I will never EVER be able to thank them enough for their care.  They gave me feel good medicine and took blood to make sure I was on the right path.  They offered ice chips then water then apple juice and Isopure and when I became obsessed with apple juice they gave me 2 spare cups to take home with me.  They helped me walk when I thought I wouldn't be able to stand and held my barf bag when I cried and retched.  They smiled and laughed at my stupid jokes and made sure my bum was covered every time I walked the halls... which... they made me do a LOT.  They fought for me when the insurance company didn't want to pay for my medicine and they gave me all the many MANY syringes I'd need when the pharmacy wanted to charge me extra.... it's possible that might get them in trouble, so don't go tellin... but it was a life saver when I was on a raggedy edge.  They are amazing women.  All of them.  I can picture so many moments that helped me each in such small ways and I could write about them for hours, but the important part is that they have inspired me and I hope the universe smiles on them.

Whilst I was vacationing at Le Park de Forest 5 Star Hospi-tel, my friends gave me flowers.  Beautiful bouquets that brought a smile to my face every time I saw them.  I cannot TELL you how many times they were complimented by everybody who walked into my room.

This one was from The Hurst Family (with assistance from Sara):

I loved them so much.  They were absolutely lovely.

And THESE were from Josh Goode and Sarah Sellers:

Sunshine in a vase.  Made my heart smile so big.

Alright friends, The time has come for me to step away from the computer.  Please feel free to peruse the swankiness I leave you below!!

Love,
Mamy



 Le Park de Forest 5 Star Hospi-tel: 

View when you first walked into the room.  That chair is next to my bed.

My messy sink and part of my messy bed.  #notlazy

The bed in all its glory

When you first walked into the room, before you got to my bed, there were these mysterious sliding doors to the left.  What, do you wonder, was behind those doors???! 

A tiny little bedroom suite!!!  PERFECT for Sara (who stayed with me through it all).  I tried to panorama the whole room with my phone but I... was... way too incapable of understanding that process.  So here's some pics!

With a sweet couch that transformed into a bed!

With a little chair

And a sink

AND its own TV!! 

The blog in which I reveal that I was woefully ill prepared for Monday's adventure.

Hello Friends,

It has been 5 days since I had my surgery and I have to confess, I had NO idea it was gonna hurt as much as it did.

SUUUURE I thought it was gonna hurt... but... I... no.  I was not ready.

My surgery itself went off without a hitch, but, I was a bit delayed in recovering from the anesthesia, so, my drugged up groggy state prevented them from allowing me the bliss of narcotic pain relievers for several hours after the main event.

Let me see if I can think of a way to adequately describe that time in my life.

It went something like this:
OMG I'M DYING.  Please, please... why does it hurt EVERYWHERE? *snore* is it supposed to hurt EVERYWHERE???   I can't even cry because every part of my body hurtssssssss. Why?  *snore* Why does it hurt so much everywhere?   My back!  My back hurts, ohhh owwww it hurts so bad!  Please just let me actually die. *snore*  Sweet baby jesus I'm beg*snore*ging you to take me into your loving arms.   OH my god I can't even move, it hurts. But not moving hurts too!  This is not faaaaaair!  It hurts so bad!   I ... no... I don't want to walk, I want to DIE.  *sob* *sob* *dry heave*

I distinctly remember that the only things that made me feel even remotely better were ice chips and when Sara would touch my forehead.

I can vaguely recall that my lovelies Sarah and Josh came to visit.  I don't know what I said to them, or if I even could say anything at that point.  My cotton mouth at that point was like something out of some kind of nightmare where your mouth is literally just full of sand and useless tongue.   I remember trying to hold their hands because it was nice to have something else to focus on.  I hope I didn't flash them any tit-tay as I ALSO vaguely recall having technical difficulties with my hospital gown at that point. (sorry guys).

They brought me flowers.  Lovely sunshine-y flowers that, once I recovered enough to function (and get my magic pain button) made me smile.   I also had sweet flowers from Ellie, Eric, Linky and Lily.  It was so nice to see them when I opened my eyes. 

I intend to post pictures of my swanky hospital room as well as pics of my flowers and further discuss my adventures in hospital living, however, it turns out that one of the side effects of major surgery is an inability to sit for long without falling asleep and I... really need the sleep.

Love to you all.
~ Mamy ~

Catch you on the flip side.

Tonight I stand on a precipice. 

My toes are curled on the edge.  I'm not sure if they are doing that to provide better leverage and propulsion for my leap tomorrow or if they are trying as hard as little piggies can to grip tight to the comfortable and the safe.

Probably both.

I wish there was a way to project my emotions onto a screen so I could watch them.   Analyzing is so much easier from a distance.  I could see each thread and follow it back to the source.  It would be brilliant.

Instead I blog.  And worry.  And fret.  And... Pinterest?

It's the end of an era.  It's the start of a new life.

Are we sure this is happening tomorrow?  Like... SURE sure?  Cuz... I mean... maybe it's not?

no... the paperwork says tomorrow.

I... am... so scared.  But I think I'll be okay.

Today I stumbled on this quote and it resonated... so I shall leave you with it.

"When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be." ~ Lao Tzu ~

Love you,
Mamy

Broccoli cheese soup is weird without the broccoli.

Friends.

Today has been really tough.  Whew. 

I have been a hot damn mess all day.

I was up sick last night.  Something I drank yesterday did NOT sit well and I was up all night long.  Riddle me this, how is it possible that someone who has not consumed real food in 3 whole days can wake up soooooo many times in a night to run to the loo?*  By the time I got into work today I was just done.  I was so tired I was physically shuffling.  I ate another smoothie with another kind of protein powder in it (ISO-1000.  Vanilla.  Meh.) and settled in just as miserable as humanly possible.  Totally over everything.  Freezing cold.  Shaky.  Falling asleep in microsecond bursts when my eyelids happened to touch each other.

The day did get better, but right this second I wanna discuss my evening.

I just had a MELTDOWN over a piece of bread.  Technically, it was 2 pieces.  Buuuuut that's like defensively arguing that two small children beat you up instead of just one.

Story time: In an effort to try to do something other than drink the same water based protein.... thing, I decided to treat myself to some of my second third favorite soup.  Panera's broccoli cheese deliciousness.  I would have to blend the broccoli in, but I was sure it would still be epically amazeballs.  So to Panera I went.  I ordered my soup, eagerly waited, practically snatched the to-go bag out of Lady Panera Worker's grasp and raced home.  I had my soup!  I grabbed my blender, set it up, opened the bag from Panera and PANICKED.  Straight up fucking panicked.  There, on top of my soup, was the bread.  Mocking me with it's lightly browned, mouth-watering-ly crunchy exterior and warm, soft, sourdough center.

I had to call a lifeline.  I literally couldn't even process what to do.

She talked me off the ledge, and I threw them in the trash. **

What the fresh, holy hell?!  Is this real life?  Almost defeated by 1/8 of a french baguette??? 

Not cool. So to combat that DEFCON 3 level of crazy I focus on things that make me smile and stuff I'm looking forward to.  Allow me to give a few examples: being gifted the exact piece of furniture I want for my living room, playing video games with Evan (even though we are far apart),  finding a good protein powder, eating my second third favorite soup in the entire world for dinner, hanging with some of the fram while watching the lovely Sarah Sellers sing tomorrow night, and the fact that this is only for 3 more days. 

I am actually over the hump. 

In closing; thank you guys for letting me whine and reminding me that I actually am doing a pretty good job.  For giving me hugs when I am feeling super fra-gee-lay (it must be Italian) talking me off ledges, lying about what you are eating, and trying to keep your popcorn hidden.  

I leave you with this picture of my bomb-ass soup in my bomb-ass Wonder Woman cup...

... and the hope that this finds you all having a great night.

Love,
Mamy 

* I do not actually want an answer to this riddle.
** I smelled them first.  Deep inhale style.  And, it is possible I licked one... judge if you must.

We're liquids, People!!

I'm all liquids all the time for the next 4 weeks.  Wait... does this paper... thing... really say 4?!!  FOUR WEEKS?! 

DAMMIT.  *sigh*

I started yesterday and man is it a drag.  A hostile, angry, rage-filled, probably-should-keep-her-away-from-public-venues DRAG.  So, I am very VERY thankful my framily sent me out in style!!  Sunday night we gathered at El Fenix for a feast of near epic (and definitely cheese-filled) proportions. Chips, salsa, chips, sweet tea, queso, chips, margaritas, sour cream sauce, chips mmmmm...definitely a great way to spend my last night eating solid foods. 

I might be willing to kill for a few of those chips right now.  If you got something that needs killing and a bag of El Fenix chips we MAY have some sort of barter.  *whispers* hit me up in the comments.

I have heard a rumor that once I make it through tomorrow I will feel less stabby.  I have my doubts about that, but endeavor to remain hopeful. 

I have a whole bunch of new protein powders to try, so that helps!  I plan to keep track of which ones are totally awful on my phone in an attempt to blackmail the protein powder industry giants into producing something amazing and naming it after me.  As I understand it, these concoctions are going to be a way of life for me from now on and wouldn't it be better to buy something with my name on it?  Yes... yes it would.

T-minus 5 days and counting?

Love you all,
Mamy




Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiips.

BEGINNINGS

It all started with an awkward question from a loving friend.

"So... I mean... well... you used to talk about THE SURGERY but you haven't in a while... is that still an option for you orrrrrrr...?"

That question spawned a conversation, which sparked a mission and rallied troops to help me drop a major bomb (or two) into my life.

Now here I am... trying my hand at blogging and getting ready for some of the most serious and life changing stuff I've had to go through to date.

I hope you'll enjoy the blog and stick with me on my journey from awesome to AWESOMER!!!