Sunday, December 28, 2008

Silence is not always Golden

So, somehow, in the course my sleeping, a decision was made, within the recesses of my mind...

No longer will I silently bite back my thoughts, and brood over them in the privacy of my own home. No longer will I let other's actions and words dictate MY emotional well being, or that of MY family.

If you feel the need to open a can of worms, be prepared to muck through the mess you've made. I will no longer excuse behaviors I find offensive, or thoughtless. If you push a button, or step on toes... you'll be called on it. And if you don't like it....then I suggest you put more thought into what you say and do.

I'm well aware that sometimes, people act, and speak, without thinking. But that doesn't excuse it. It shouldn't. People should be called on those thoughtless moments. People should be held accountable for their actions.

What this all boils to, is that I'm sick of making excuses for those who would otherwise just railroad, and bulldoze their way over other peoples wants, needs and emotions. "Too hell with what they think." Well... if that is truly how you feel, then my calling you on it, should be a welcome reprieve. Because quite frankly, I don't care anymore, what you think. If you have something to say, feel free to say it, but expect a response from me. Good or bad, I'm not holding it in anymore. I'm not losing sleep over your stupid behavior, I'm not stressing myself to the point of sickness over the stupid things you've said, and I'm certainly not going to let the stupid stuff you do, override, or overpower, anything going on in MY family.

That's right. MY family. MY husband and son. No. We are NOT going to apologize for not calling 10 times a day. WE have a life to live. We are NOT going to apologize if our son prefers someone else to you. Life of a toddler, deal with it. And we WILL NOT apologize for the day to day happenings that prevent us from doting on, and catering to, your petty, selfish needs to be number one in everyone's lives. Because, quite honestly, you aren't.

So, unless you want to go there with me, and believe me, I'm MORE than willing to, I suggest you stop your petty ass whining, complaining, and backstabbing, and start treating those around you...with some respect.

Monday, December 22, 2008

A good day...for the most part.
Current mood: moody

It's taken me more than three weeks, but today.. I had a pretty good day. Got up, got breakfast together, got breakfast dishes cleaned up, and actually started baking Christmas cookies and making Christmas candy!

Of course, all of this 'happy' activity was countered by an 18 month old who refused to listen. AT ALL.

Even as cold as it is (4 degrees right now and the warmest it's been) I didn't find myself falling into 'whoa is me'.

Of course now, I'm a little upset. I'm tired, I'm cold, and just generally in a crap mood. Perhaps I shouldn't have taken a nap, when I got tired. Maybe I should have just forced myself to stay awake. At the very least, I would still be in a better mood.

It doesn't help that I spent all morning baking, and cooking...And when my husband mentioned to our neighbor that I was doing so, he immediately put his hand out. Not literally... but you get the idea. I had plans to make little gift plates for people, and my husband doesn't understand why I'm upset that our neighbor's first response to my baking was, "Can I have some?" Just a stupid little question. But I was PLANNING on taking over a gift basket for Christmas. Now I'm of the frame of mind to just slap some on a plate and be done with it.... I don't know.. maybe I'm being unreasonable... but right now... I just don't care. I guess I can equate it to having a specific gift for someone in mind, and then finding out, three days before Christmas, that they went out and bought it for themselves.

I just want to start feeling better... ALL of the time... This up-down emotion thing is starting to get old.

Saturday, December 6, 2008 update. (Kind of graphic...and VERY long)

Well... to say this past week has been difficult, would be the understatement of the year. I know that I have not responded to a lot of messages, or comments, and believe me, I wanted to. But a few things kept me from doing so.

First, I just didn't have the heart to respond. Everyone has been so sweet, and so heartfelt, and all I really wanted to do was lash out and yell at the nearest available person. No one deserved that, so I opted to simply keep my mouth shut.

Second, and this is the biggest reason...

As you all know, Wed, the night before Thanksgiving, is when we went to the ER, and found out we'd lost out baby. They'd sent us home, since my cervix was still completely closed, and the bleeding was mild, with the intent to let my body do what it needed to do. Barring any complications, my body would 'take care' of things naturally, and all would be well in 4-6 weeks.

Things did not go according to plan. Sunday, I woke up with the WORST cramps EVER. Every time I went to the bathroom, it felt like all of my insides were falling out. EACH time, it seemed I'd passed at least a gallon of blood (along with clots and tissue.) Well... by that afternoon, I was starting to pay close attention, and was starting to talk myself into going back to the ER. 4pm rolled around, and I thought a shower would help relax me, and maybe help ease the cramps. 15 minutes into the shower, I began to get dizzy, and very light headed. I quick grabbed my robe, and stumbled to the couch, where I laid down, and let the feelings pass. That was just before Mom called (I think she called, or maybe we called her.. I don't really remember much very clearly.) While talking to her, I do remember talking myself more and more into going to the ER, to the point that finally Matthew got up and just started getting everything ready. So, I hung up with Mom, and to the ER we went. At this point, I am now having to double up on pads, AND change them every 15 - 20 minutes. They got me into a private room right away. That's when things went downhill, FAST.

This is where my memory get's REALLY fuzzy, so please bear with me. I know my doctor did a cervical exam, and determined I was indeed miscarrying. They sent me to a more private room, to try to relax, and let my pain meds and nausea med take effect, before she would go in and try to remove some of the tissue. Her thought was, to let the meds take effect before she went in, to help make it less uncomfortable for me. God Bless her. A little while later, they took me back, so she could clear out the tissue. Unfortunately, she couldn't get it all. She commented that it was very soft, and kept pulling apart, so she was going to order a D&C. It would happen within the next couple of hours or so, and back to my private room I went. So... a little bit of time passed, maybe a half hour, and I had to go to the bathroom. Of course I did. So, the nurse helped me up, and I went to the bathroom. I made it just far enough from the emergency pull string, that I couldn't reach it, when the floor underneath me started to tilt. Then the world went topsy-turvy, and like tunnel vision, everything in my periphrial started to go black. My only thought was to get to the door. I managed to grab the handle, and open the door just enough, to call out, before I dropped to my knees. I remember hearing her yell out, "Oh honey...." before she helped pick me up, and get me back into my bed, where I remained, on my side. She took my blood pressure, which read at 81/47. That's when they started measuring my blood pressure every 15 minutes. Immediately, they called the OB on call, which just happened to be my doctor that delivered Malcolm. Within 15 minutes of that first reading, he was there. Another reading, and his expression told us all we needed to know. "Julie! What's going on!... You're so pale!...." Then some mumbling, and withing moments, I was signing permission slips for anestesia, and surgery. An emergency D&C was underway within 20 minutes. From the moment my second reading took, I remember a slew of people coming in and out, all in blue hair covers, saying hello, introducing themselves to me and Matthew, reassuring us I was going to be okay. I remember rolling into the operating room, and because of my IV, they needed to restrain my arm, so that it wouldn't pinch off. I remember them putting the board in place, and the anestesiologist saying, "You won't know anything, you won't feel anything, and you won't remember anything." He was right. Because that's the last thing I remember.

I woke up about an hour later, in recovery, very nauseous, and in some pain. The nurses there were wonderful, in that everytime I felt a pinch, they were there with a syringe for my IV. No pain for me. Finally, they released me, and I went to my permanent room, where I was monitored closely. Every hour, my vitals were taken. And every hour, the nurse would frown, and make a comment about needing to get my blood pressure up. By now, it was after 2am, and Matthew and Malcolm were in my room with me. They stayed til about 4am, when they were assured I would be okay. My nurse gave me a large dose of stadol and phenergan, and within minutes, I was asleep.

When I woke up again, it was time for breakfast. I was hungry, but very tired, so I nursed it for a bit, before falling back to sleep. It was 10 am again, before I woke up. My Dr was calling, and telling me his 'plans'. He was not comfortable with my blood pressure, and even though the surgery went very well, I had indeed lost a great deal of blood before hand. If my blood pressure didn't come up soon, I would require a transfusion. Sure enough, that afternoon, they started the first of two. My Dr. said he was not comfortable sending me home, and hoped I wouldn't be upset if I had to stay a day or two. Even that though, did not bring up my hemoglobin counts high enough though. They were expecting me to perk up, at least some, but I continued to remain tired, sleeping most of the day, and all of the night. I still had bouts of dizziness and light-headedness, and it wasn't until I was going into my third day, that my color finally returned. Two and a half days in the hospital, two pints of blood, emergency surgery, and I am now officially diagnosed with Iron Deficiancy Anemia, on top of everything else I've been through this week. I've been taking my iron now for three days, but I still tire very easily, and still experience moments of weakness, and dizziness. There is still so much healing that needs to happen, both physically and emotionally, and for the most part, everyone has been simply wonderful.

For everyone who sent and offered heartfelt wishes and prayers of well being, recovery, support and love. I thank you from the bottom of my heart and soul. Your words, no matter how eloquent, or simple, meant the world to me, and Matthew. So many of you, here, and elsewhere, lifted us up, when we were unable to do so for ourselves. Thank you for respecting our need to not answer the phone 100 times a day, and thank you, for now believing that it was the only thing we wished to talk about, when we did talk to you. Thank you for helping to, at least for a moment, pretend that life was 'normal', and for allowing us, and helping us, to find humor in something as simple as 'how to properly kill a bug', 'cooking a yummy turkey' or even watching a blood elf and a tauren arguing over 'her'. ::smiles:: Thank you EVERYONE, for those rare, and fleeting, but oh so precious moments of laughter, and normalcy.

Studio 13

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