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Reminiscing about my 40th birthday celebration. I had decided that I wanted to gather my best girls and head to Mystic for the weekend. Seeing as most of us had children, a night away was the most we could manage.
We met up in the village for some shopping and lunch, then headed toward the Main Street for more shopping and views of the river. It was so great to shop without anyone distracting me. We browsed all afternoon and sipped coffee in peace. The river was spectacular, I could have sat in the sun all day.
After a quick change at the Inn, some of us headed back out for drinks and dinner. New friends joined us for dinner, while some headed home to other obligations. It was a great night of conversation, some of which I don’t remember, and tom foolery.
We finished the night with some bar hopping. Again, I’m not sure where we went, but I knew I was in good hands. My friends took the best care of me. I know I have blogged about this day before, but I just stumbled upon these pictures and it brought me right back to that weekend.
It also made me realize that I need one of these getaways every year. Last year a few friends and I went to a spa. This year, I don’t know what we’ll do. I’m game though ladies! So let’s get those ideas flowing….
Cones, Propofol, and Chocolate Chip Cookies
Today I had my cone biopsy done, and as promised, I’m here to give you the details. Here’s what I learned…
1. I completely understand why Michael Jackson got hooked on Propofol on a daily basis. In “Friday” style, I got knocked the fuck out. Seriously. The anesthesiologist reported that I did not need much at all. I remember talking about my 3 year old and then waking up in recovery. The wake up was clean too, not groggy and no nausea. Nice.
2. I could never starve myself. Did you notice there were no Friday Funnies? That’s because when you’re hungry, there is absolutely nothing that amuses you. I was hoping to sleep in so that I would have less time awake to feel grumpy. Nope. By 1pm, my grumpiness changed to sleepiness. I could not imagine having to go a day like this. Which also made me sad thinking about those less fortunate than me. (Please look into donating to your local food pantry or even school backpack program- thank you!)
3. As if I didn’t know this, nurses rock! From the pre-op nurses who helped me change and dealt with me almost passing out when my IV was put in, to the post-op nurses who made sure I was comfortable to go home, I had a wonderful experience.
4. Ask for pain pills. They don’t like to dope you up, and I was hesitant at first, but I woke with a bad crampy pain and all I could think about was that I had 3 kids to deal with too. So whether you like pain pills or not, think of your home situation.
5. Make sure you have help at home. Lucky for me, my husband was wonderful and made sure I was comfortable and had gluten free chocolate chip cookies! My neighbor even brought me some homemade gluten free peanut butter chocolate truffle ones! Talk about being spoiled. My middle daughter waited on me too. My mother kept the youngest and the oldest ended up sleeping at a friend’s house. It was quiet and I was able to pass out on Vicodin in peace. (I’ve already switched to advil.)
6. In about a week, I should have the pathology report stating whether or not it looks like more areas could be “pre-cancerous”, more areas could be cancerous, or everything is a ok.
We’ll see what happens in the days to follow as more healing takes place.
** Friday reference- Friday starring Chris Tucker and Ice Cube
Absolutely. I don’t regret moving on and finding love. I don’t regret changing careers. Don’t be afraid to jump.
(image courtesy of pinterest)
For the past 4 days I’ve been slowly processing the results of my colposcopy. One area of my cervix showed grade 2/3 changes in the cells, changes that if left untreated would turn cancerous. Unlike last time when we just waited for my body to heal itself, this time I would need treatment. The best option, my doctor said, was conization; removal of a cone shaped piece of tissue from the cervix and cervical canal. The procedure doesn’t take long, but my recovery will. A full month of letting the cervix heal. That’s right I said a month. In that time, pathologists will examine the tissue to make sure all infected areas were retrieved and that none of it has turned cancerous. I’m going to think positive and believe that this will be the end.
In preparation for what’s to come, I sat down with one of my daughters today to explain what was going on. I told her the basic facts, she doesn’t need to know everything, but I never want my family surprised with a sudden diagnosis. Plus I’ll need her help for a few days while I’m resting. I know some people will say it’s unfair to worry a child about something that doesn’t pertain to them. I disagree. She’s old enough to figure out when something is wrong and then would be left to worry silently without any explanations. And if I needed a second procedure for any reason, how would I explain that?
As of right now, my conization has not been scheduled. I’d like to get it over with before I read more about it and gross myself out. I promise to fill you in after I have it done, without the gory details of course. You can certainly find those for yourself on google. In the mean time, ladies, if you have not had a Pap smear in a few years, schedule one now. While the changes in the cells don’t happen over night, it would be a horrific lesson if you let this go and developed cancer.
Wish me luck!
Friday Funnies Mindy Project Style…
I’ve been watching The Mindy Project since the pilot episode simply because after reading, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me, I moved her into my top 5 funniest women ever group. I don’t regret this decision. Now that Anders Holm (Workaholics) is on as her love interest Casey, I wish there were 10 more episodes.
Happy Friday Y’all
(images courtesy of pinterest)
Hahaha…I hope someone out there gets this! I wanted to print this meme and give it to my science teacher, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like cats. Last day of chemistry class today. Looking forward to taking more. (NO, that is not a typo).
I’m pretty sure I’ve had anxiety as long as I’ve been alive, but it didn’t present itself to me until I was in graduate school. On a return trip back to Virginia, the stress of travel, family changes, an ill sister, and the realization that I didn’t want to be in Virginia, all mixed together to form a panic cocktail. It emerged from depths within as I sipped on a diet coke waiting for my dinner. I became very aware of myself, almost paranoid, and began crying for no reason. I couldn’t stop either and cried 4 hours straight as my then boyfriend drove to our rental home away from home.
For days I would not venture out by myself for fear that people would stare, that people would know something unbeknownst to me. When I finally did leave the house, I was shaky and kept up the self talk just to make it to class. I lost weight, I lost interest, and I lost me, but some how over time, I managed to return to normal. Not really, but I sure as hell presented as such. I didn’t know that I should have found a therapist to find out why this happened. And while I seemed like I was back to the old me, I really wasn’t. All of my life I had been a social butterfly always wanting to be around friends. Suddenly I found myself making up excuses for why I couldn’t attend events. Sometimes I would also become sick, which gave me the perfect reason to stay home. I missed Bachelorette parties, nights out on the town, even baby showers. Events that I couldn’t get back. So for me, there is always this part of time in graduate school when I feel a time lapse….
During my divorce, as my life was crumbling around me, my anxiety, now paired with its friend depression, came roaring back out. I couldn’t function and I was flat emotionally. There was no anger, only this shell of a person. It was then that I sought help through therapy and medicine and found myself again. I also learned very quickly that besides my close friends and parents, discussing depression and anxiety was a no-no. I couldn’t let anyone think I was weak. No one could know that I had to rely on medicine to function and take care of my children. So I keep my little secret and vowed to one day wean myself off of this magic pill. My therapist thought that was ridiculous. “If you were diabetic you would need insulin. You couldn’t live without it. You have a dysfunction in your serotonin receptors. You need this medicine.” I didn’t care. I didn’t want to carry around this stigma. I wanted to be normal. I wanted off the meds.
Let me first explain that being on medicine for me is like having a glass of wine at lunch. It’s a low dose of calm, just enough to take the edge off. Just enough to not care what anyone thinks of me. Just enough to make the world seem less overwhelming. Just enough to make my children not so loud. Just enough to make me a social butterfly. Being without it is hard. Today is day 4 without any medication. Not on purpose, but because I was forgetful and ran out of my script. Day 4. The first 2 days were fine actually. But today, today I feel like I’m walking around in a fluid filled headache nightmare. I’m afraid to talk for fear that I will be boisterous. I am reminding myself not to scream at my children when they get loud. I have to tell myself not to take anything personally. I hate it. Instead of tackling the world, I just want to crawl in bed and take some pain killers. Or drink. (Cheers!). Chocolate helps too, which is why I ate like 4 servings of raisinettes today.
So why am I revealing my big secret to you? Because it’s ridiculous that I feel inferior because I need medicine to correct an imbalance. Because I hear it from so many women, “Oh I’m on ….or I was on ….”. Because I’m sick of people thinking that anxiety or depression is a sign of weakness. Because if this resembles you, I want you to get help. (I could break it down all scientific and what not about my heterozygous mutated gene, MTHFR, and it’s link to depression, but you know how to use google).
We don’t have to hide anymore. We have to stand up and own it. I’m still me, just better.
Espresso Was a Bad Choice….
It’s 2am and I’m up due to an espresso I had at dinner. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I’m just wishing I was sleeping like the rest of my family. Today is Mother’s Day and I know my girls will be almost as excited to wake me up as they are on Christmas. We celebrated last night with a fancy dinner and wine and the above mentioned espresso with Sambuca. That was after we attended the choir concert of my oldest daughter. And wine was needed. Not because the singing was bad. On the contrary, it’s absolutely beautiful. But the spectators….that’s another story.
For the entire performance of the various choir groups, my family dealt with two little boys who wanted to be anything but where they were. They screamed, talked loudly, and kicked my chair. Their parents, who I will refer to as Dumb and Dumber, did nothing to change the situation. I tried, I really did, to not let their idiocy get to me, but let’s just say it was the wrong day to go without meds. The amount of angst in my chest was overwhelming. It took all I had to not turn around and yell, “Get your fucking children out of here before I punch you!!”, but I was in no mood to become a hypocrite. I over praised my children for their stellar behavior at the performance. I seriously would have bought them a pony had they asked.
Something else happened at the concert tonight: one of the high school members actually fainted on stage. One minute she was singing with 4 other girls and the next minute she was down, face first. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone faint before. It was eerie. I kept seeing her go down as I tried to sleep tonight. As the adults rushed to her aid, I thought about my own daughter waiting with her group. I knew she would be frightened. Luckily it was a case of being hot and not eating enough food. This young lady will be fine. My daughter will never forget what she saw, but it did teach her what a caring community looks like. I too saw what my future might look like when I finally become a nurse.
Tonight was a mixture of beauty, family, love, anger, helplessness, support, and patience. Maybe espresso wasn’t a bad choice. I mean I did get a post out of it…. No, it was a bad choice! I am going to be so tired today!
