It's been three weeks since I've been to the doc, longest time in between appointments since this all started back in November. I feel good and have been getting pretty impatient with the wait time but know that I don't have much of a choice at this point. I'm going to try and cheat the two week standard wait time with the next appointment.
I'm really looking forward to having it all over and done with so I can really move on and adjust more to the new normal.
I have to admit that the more fluid I have added the harder those suckers get. Holy cripes, I was not prepared for that. And while I probably should have stopped at 75 cc I figured the extra 25 wouldn't hurt right? Wrong- I was pretty damn sore tonight.
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| 220 cc's baby |
I try not to think about the C word, try to not worry about it coming back - somewhere else. Sometimes I do pretty well - some days not so much.
It's a scary thing knowing that I got so lucky this time, and what if there is a next time? What if the next time there's not as much luck?
I know the dangers of "what if's" I was pretty good at not playing that game anymore - I try to go with the flow and have more of the "it is what it is" attitude but it's kind of like knowing you were invaded and while I was able to rid myself of this invader this time would I be that lucky if there was a next time?
I try to talk to Pep but he's really at the point of "I'm just glad you're alive and healthy" point. He doesn't think about the possibility, which is a good thing for him and for me as well. He's the positive thinker right now. His positive thinking keeps me grounded.
I am getting used to the thought of what I'll be able to consider normal, and I know that the fear will always be there a little. I think the one that scares me the most is the fact that I have my damn ovaries yet, those little suckers are sneaky.
Hardly any symptoms if something is wrong with them- fatigue, abdominal pains, bloating- um how about every day. How is a lady supposed to know when it's something not normal? I mean I have had those symptoms for the past two decades.
That's the hell of having fybromyalgia, it includes like every damn symptom for anything that can be wrong with a person...ever.
It's awesome, completely awesome. But again, I try not to be one that looks a gift horse in the mouth. I dodged a major bullet and need to know and remember that I am a lucky one.
I have an amazing man friend, an amazing family and friends and kids.
All of those far outweigh anything I can complain about.
2/10
Kind of an odd thing to think while you're in the shower, but it was kind of a shock when all of a sudden I have feeling on my right side- which for reference was the non-cancer side.
This is good right? One would think so- it's kind of a good thing that I'll have feeling and be somewhat "normal" again right?
I'm hoping so, but on the flip side---I go in for a fill on Monday the 15th, kind of romantic really- the day after Valentines Day and all.
So what this means now is that I'll definitely feel the needle on this one. Gottlieb had offered to numb the site but that just means two needle picks instead of the one and it would probably be about the same effect really.
So I'll opt out and deal with the joy of being able to feel them doing what they're doing this time.
I am looking forward to it. It's been three weeks since I've been in and it's felt like a waste of precious time towards be having this done and me being put back together completely.
I did share this new information with my Pep and he's at kind of a loss. He's seemed to have place an embargo on that area altogether - which I can't blame him, there's nothing appealing about what I have going on up there, and I still refuse to let him be witness to the frankenboobies.
2/5
I think that I'm surprising allot of people, as I see more and more people and I look healthy, look normal- for the most part at least- I keep getting the feeling that people expect me to look like a "cancer patient"- to look ill or sad. Or to be depressed maybe?
I think people I see at work are surprised that I'm --me-- meaning I'm the same person with the same humor and the same drive- maybe a little more?
I know I keep surprising Pep- he'd never been through something like this- meaning a medical or health scare like this, so he didn't know what to expect.
Hell I didn't know what to expect. I was expecting worse- expecting the pain to be worse and to last longer.
I figured I'd be pretty down and out for longer than the 3-4 days- I thought for sure that I'd be down in the dumps for longer- maybe that's still coming?
I know that I always seem to have something to prove to myself. It comes from the car accident years and years ago.
I heard so many thing of what I wouldn't be able to do or things I'd have to stop doing and it started then for me to be able to prove them wrong. To prove I was tougher than what happened to me.
I have carried that with me since I was 15-
Life's not fair, life can suck some days. But you're living and things could be worse, even back then- I could have been paralyzed, I could have never walked again!!
But I did and I wasn't so move on and prove them wrong.
People go through things and the saying "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" is a true statement but there were times- and plenty of them that I hated that saying because I didn't want to be stronger than I was- I didn't want to have to be the strong one.
But it's who I am and who I've become-
I should have a T-shirt made with some catchy saying- I need to work on that
I knew I'd have a heck of a bill. I normally don't complain about health insurance or the cost of it. It's a necessary thing- especially with my history in the medical world. But cripes almighty it's still a shock when the bills start coming in.
To put things in perspective- when I had my hip reconstructed in 2002- my out of pocket maximum was $1300, and that was a heck of a surgery, cutting bones apart and bolting them back together is serious business, not to mention the 6 weeks spent in a hospital bed in my living room AND the 6 months of therapy. And I paid $1300.
My deductible is $3000- I knew I'd being paying that, it the $10,000 out of pocket maximum that I was not looking forward to, and since all of this cancer wonderfulness took place at the end of the year. I'll have two beautiful years of that glorious $10,000 out of pocket maximum to deal with.
And yes it's pretty frustrating when a person works hard every day and still is socked with that after the emotional turmoil of cancer in general.
I don't blame the medical facilities, what I do have some angst about would be the people that are perhaps taking advantage of the situation and only pay a minimum for some medical treatments that are even more extensive than mine because they are on subsidies.
It's a hard nut to swallow when a person is trying to do all they can- have two kids in college and have to figure out a way to pay for all of this on top of things.
Winning the lottery isn't an option- I used all my luck when I met Pep and anything I had left was used on the Stage 0 cancer.
I'm not a crook so I can't rob a bank or anything- my mom would kick my butt.
So this is where a girl needs to put her big girl panties on and suck it up and figure something out.
I'd get another job but my hours aren't really conducive to allow that and I love my job too much to have something affect it. I love to be able to have one of those lovely "work at home" data entry jobs. But I've come to believe that those aren't something that's really a thing.
My options are pretty limited- I know I can't afford another $400 a month in payments for medical bills, thank goodness my taxes are going to be done soon, maybe I can knock that sucker down to $200 :)
I just keep telling myself that it's better than planning a funeral, right?
