So ... I had foot surgery on April 13th. My last post spoke of it, but I was so doped up on meds, it probably doesn't make sense!
We thought it was just a simply
ganglion cyst removal. Welp, when I came out of surgery they told me it
wasn't a cyst but it was filled with blood and they didn't really know
what it was. And OH, by the way - here's some crutches and stay off your
feet for a week, don't change the bandage for at least five days, and
here's some Percocet cause it's gonna hurt.
Saturday and Sunday
of that week were a BITCH. I was in so much pain I pretty much stayed
drugged on Klonopin and Percocet so I could sleep. Percs didn't make me
sleepy, they made me high as fuck and it gave me headaches so I took the
K-pins to sleep. Rest of the week was okay, didn't do much, slept a
lot. Went back to work this past Monday after being out for six freaking days, had my first post-op appointment tonight.
Turns
out it was a ruptured blood vessel. Which, apparently he knew that
SOMETHING had happened to the blood vessel when he closed my foot up
cause the whole point of crutches for a week was because he didn't want
my putting pressure on the foot and rupturing those sutures in the
vessel. So he thinks that somehow the blood vessel got injured and then
the injured part swelled and that's what was bulging out of my foot. So
basically, what they cut out of my foot was the injured part of the
vessel but they didn't know that at the time of surgery. They thought
maybe it was a tumor or something. So they took it out, stitched the
vessel closed, sent the part they removed to pathology, and here we are.
Unfortunately, they don't know
WHAT caused it. I don't remember any trauma or injury and I would think
that I would have had to have bruised my foot pretty badly for it to
have happened. Since we don't know what caused it, we can't be 100% sure
that it won't happen again or that it won't happen in the other foot.
So much fun, right? Stitches are out though and in a few days I can stop
bandaging it and give it a good cleaning. It's super bruised and there
are still marks on it from the surgery pen.
Day ... five of laying in bed like a lazy ass. Stupid frigging foot surgery. I should have known that this would happen. It always does. First, the surgery was delayed four hours. (OMG I was so frigging starving!) and then it turns out that it wasn't a ganglion cyst like they thought, they don't know what it is so it's been sent to pathology, and oh by the way ... you have three times as many stitches as we thought you were going to have and you're going to be on crutches for the next ten days. Not to mention the excruciating pain and the being unable to put pressure on my foot.
Luckily, I have wonderful parents who make food for me or else I would starve to death. My brother was wonderful though. He took me in for the surgery and brought me back home and fed me and made sure I had my meds and he even carried me through Walgreens to get my meds so I didn't have to use said stupid crutches. Percocet? I highly recommend it. Seriously. So good.
But I had feeling dependent on people and I hate having to hop, on legged, into the bathroom and then back from the bathroom and being exhausted and needing a nap because it takes SO much energy to move around. And I have to be back to work on Monday, healed or not, cause someone else is already out on Vacation. I might be napping instead of eating come lunch time. Stitches come out Wednesday, though, hopefully so I hope there's more progress between now and Monday.
Now I'm off to eat my yummy bagel sandwich consisting of ham and cheese that my daddy made me so I don't starve to death.
so much has happened in the past few weeks and most of it i can't say in public simply because i don't know who i can trust and i really cannot afford to bring any bad things down upon me so .... pictures! i took these this morning. it's our first TRUE snowstorm of the season and we've already gotten 5+ inches. they say we're only supposed to get 8, but it doesn't look like it's stopping any time soon! anybody out there got warm weather and wants to send it my way??? so not a snow fall kind of girl. i'm looking forward to my 80 degree days again!!
I'm so sick and tired of being in love with you. I don't want to love you anymore. I don't want you in my thoughts anymore. I don't want you invading my dreams. I can go months without thinking of you, without remembering how you made me feel. I can meet another man and not want to compare him to you. I can develop a crush and not feel guilty about it. And then, out of nowhere, you come slamming back into my life. Why? Why can't you just STAY gone?! I don't want to love you anymore. I don't want to be in love with you.
I know you're not the person I fell in love with. That person doesn't exist. I don't know if he ever really did. Logically, I know that he wasn't a figment of my imagination. After the assault, you were everything I needed you to be. You soothed the hand shaped bruises left on both flesh and psyche. You were the strength I needed when I didn't even know who I was or who I wanted to be. When I was lost and couldn't lift my head above the current, you were the raft I needed. When it all crashed down the first time, I convinced myself I didn't need you. I convinced myself I was better than you and your love.
But you came back in. And you shook my entire world up. I admit, part of that was my fault. I was so incredibly stupid for seeking you out in the first place. But I had wounds that I needed healed. I needed that closure. I should have known you'd never give it to me. Instead, you stirred me back up. Instead, you made me fall in love with you all over again. To see you with your little girl, to see you being the man I always knew you could be ... how could I not fall in love with that? I could hardly breathe when in your presence.
Was it a lie? Was everything a lie? You're not that person and I know this. Logically, I know that you are not who I think you are. You never outright lied to me. You never pretended to be something you weren't. But with me, you were always different. You weren't the manwhore everyone expected you to be. You were quiet. You were calm. You balanced out my crazy. You were one of a few people who could put me in my place without hurting my feelings. You did it with tact and grace while still being firm.
You are selfish. You are arrogant. You care more about the things you think will make you into the person you want to be. Why couldn't you see that we were both in the same place? Didn't you realize that we could've helped each other to find the place we wanted to be? I finally came to see you would never be anything more than a man-child. Forever, in my heart, you will be the one who pieced me back together. You will be my first love, until the day I die. But I don't want to be in love with you anymore.
I want you to stop invading my dreams. I am sick to death of dreaming of her. She will never be OUR daughter. I will never have children with you. So why, when I dream of her, are you always there? I don't want you there. I don't want you tainting those moments. I don't want to dream of you anymore. I don't want to dream of her either, to be honest. I suppose in my mind, she'll always be yours. My blue eyes, your jet black hair, and chubby rolls. I'm sick to death of it. Would we have made a beautiful child? Of that, I have no doubt. But it will never happen. You are not meant to be the father of my children. I wish you would just disappear. I wish I could control my dreams.
It's easy to realize all of this when I'm awake. It's easy to be logical when I'm awake. I'm tired of hurting over you. I'm tired of letting myself fall back into that same pattern. I so badly want to unblock your profile from Facebook. But I won't. I can't stand to see the pictures. I want to tell myself that I am over you. That you were nothing more than the older boy that my high school self was in love with. But you couldn't let me have that, could you? You had to tell me that you were in love with me too. You had to tell me that I'd be a lucky catch for any guy and that you'd be forever jealous of the man who got to have me as his wife and the mother of his child.
Was I supposed to be flattered by that? Was that supposed to make me feel good about myself? Because in reality, all it did was piss me off. If you're so jealous, then why couldn't you man up and be that man? Another crush told me that I was good enough to fuck but not good enough to date. Is that how you see me as well? I'm good enough to fool around with but never to settle with? You can pick up the broken pieces and glue them back together but you can't stick around to see how well the glue dries?
I don't want to be in love with you anymore. I'm sick and tired of thinking of you. I want you gone from my life forever. Why can't I seem to get rid of you, even after all these years?
Part of this whole body dysmorphic disorder, for me, happens to be 1) my hair and 2) the numbers on the scale. Luckily, now that I'm medicated for it, I can logically realize that I'm being irrational. The numbers don't necessarily matter. When I was at 105, I looked horrible. I was a stick. A skeleton. But that number sounds SO nice in my head. I love the way it sounds. I want to be that weight again ... except, I don't really. I didn't look healthy, I didn't look good. Everyone commented about it, they were worried for me because of how I looked.
I'm at 135 currently. I'm okay with the way I look in the mirror. Not thrilled, but okay. I started a Zumba class last night and I'm super excited for it. I'm signing up for it and I'll be going every Tuesday and Thursday. I hope this helps. I HATE exercise. ABHOR it. But this was tons of fun dancing! It didn't feel like exercise! One day at a time, right? Another step closer to better, overall mental health. My hair kicks ass right now, I love the colors, so that makes me happy. Now if I can just stop with the number obsession.
