So much to catch up on. I don’t even know where to begin.
When I started working on LHR again, I let my personal writing fall by the wayside a bit. There’s only so many hours in the day and less time to write than I’d like. As it is, I do most of my writing in the middle of the night instead of, you know, actually sleeping, because with two active kids hone full time right now, it’s the only quiet, “spare” time I’ve got.
Then time issues became health issues. Things in that department took a turn for the worst for awhile there.
Back in November, I started what I’ll refer to as puke-fest 2011. After far too many rounds of musical ness and musical doctors, I ended up in a place where I’d hurl the second ANYTHING hit my stomach. Now, I’ve had bouts like this before, it’s par for the course with pancreatitis. But this was extreme. It started with a family rendition of the stomach flu, as brought home by the elementary school carrier monkey child. Of course, we all got sick, one right after another, and the baby and I were in the hospital together at one point. But then, everyone else recovered, and I just went right on hurling.
Three months, 8 emergency room visits, two hospital admissions and several doctors later, and it turns out it was one of my meds. (Seriously? My faith in doctors is pretty low right now.)
Once that was resolved, I started pushing another issue. The thing is-My abdominal symptoms get worse every month, around THAT time of the month, and during the weeks leading up to that time. I’d told doctors this before, but since most of my Drs are specialists, they want nothing to do with areas of the body that are outside of their area of expertise. Especially “womens issues.”. I know hoo-has are scary and all, but why aren’t there any doctors left who actually look at the WHOLE person?
Eventually I grew tired of the doctors blowing this off and went to an obgyn. After ruling everything else out with another series of fun, invasive and painful tests, she informed me that all that was left was endometriosis. The second I googled it, I went, “Holy shit! I have THAT!”
It took switching doctors a few more times, but to make a long story short- I’ve definitely got endometriosis. I’ve had it since puberty, and the only thing that saved it from being much worse was the fact that I started having kids young and basically spent four years pregnant. It doesn’t grow when you are pregnant, you see, and it wasn’t until after I had my youngest daughter that I started having all of this undiagnosed abdominal pain. (Yeah, over six years ago.) I’m trying not to dwell on the fact ghat had they figured it out THEN, I probably wouldn’t have incurred the damage to my pancreas during all those un-necessary procedures. Nothing I can do about it now, I suppose.
Anyhow I found an amazing doctor who cut me open and scraped all of the nasty crap off my insides. He also made it so I could perform normal bodily functions without the use of a syringe, rubber gloves, a tube and a shit ton of ex-lax. Oh, oh! And they removed a floating staple that fell off something gall bladder related and lodged itself in my “Pouch of Douglas”. (yeah, i didn’t know what that was either until very recently, and i don’t recommend putting sharp random staples there-particularly if you’d like to enjoy sex again, ever.)
So yeah. Now I’m on continuous birth control now to help slow it’s regrowth-but generally it does grow back and I’ll need to be cleaned out periodically. There’s also a possibility I’ll end up losing all of my internal womanly parts, (Which has really put my desire for one last baby into hyperdrive.)
Somewhere in the middle of all of this, I had a lovely 5mm kidney stone decide to get stuck in my ureter so I also got to go under and have that shoved back into my left kidney, (Which is also deformed, as it turns out. I already knew righty had duplicate lobes and tubes.) Incidentally, I’ve got a random tumor in my bladder as well, but the biopsy says it’s just another random, strange “me” thing.
Some advice? If anyone ever offers you a uretral stent, for the love of the gods, say NO.
What’s that you ask?
Oh, just a tube that they leave in place that extends from your kidney ALL the way on down… and…out. Let’s just say I preferred the kidney stone itself to the feeling of the stent, and leave it at that.
So, to summarize, I’ve now got endometriosis, chronic pancreatitis, and rheumatoid(?) arthritis. Whee.
Add to that an insane ex who has decided to blog stalk me for his own sick amusement. (Go back a few posts.) And his mother and her crusade to prove the kids issues are somehow All. My. Fault. (As usual) And throw in a baby who has taken to stripping naked and pooping on everything EXCEPT the toilet when he feels the urge.
See why I’ve been in hiding?
But the surgeries are done (for now,) the meds have been adjusted, the baby isn’t allowed to wear anything other than backwards feety jammies 24/7, and my ex and his mommy can spout all the lies, hatred, filth and random crap they want. All anyone has to do to see what kind of parent I really am is look at the two children we have raised. (And compare them to the two he has “raised”.)
Unfortunately, my two older children are the ones who are really losing in all of this, since they are stuck being raised by soulless, evil compulsive liars instead of in a stable, loving family where they belong. Sigh.
The point is, life isn’t going to stop me from writing. I won’t be abused and controlled by that family anymore, and I’m not at the mercy of my diseases. And by the gods, the boy WILL crap IN the toilet one of these days!
(Right? Please tell me he will? Everyone I’ve spoken to about potty training boys has just shaken their heads, given me a sympathetic look, and muttered something about boys being “hard”.)
Sigh. Bad Baby.