Hanging In

Had surgery Tuesday. Got out of the hospital yesterday. I'm still painfully recovering - using a walker, rockin' knotted hair, no make-up, and needing assistance with basic activities. But the worst has passed. Because there's still a bunch of soreness and all over pain from undergoing the procedure itself, I can't tell if it worked yet. I should have a better idea in a week or two.

If I remember and still want to, I'll post more about it later. Too tired right now. Just wanted to spread the word that surgery is officially in the past.

Hope all is well with everyone else in the blogosphere this week.

P.S. - I got a pretty entertaining comment on my last post, The One Where Lex is a Nutbar.

Her light eyes were dancing, she is insane.

After my recent onslaught of insanity dreams, I started hearing weird voices. Mostly the voices of characters in my dreams. As this was getting out of control, I went and saw a psychiatrist yesterday.

Psychiatrist sits me down and starts asking all kinds of questions about my childhood, parents, drugs, birth injuries and flah flah flah. I answer. Whatever, none of it's news anymore. Towards the end of the session, we finally get to the dreams. I give Psychiatrist some examples of the dreams, and she sits back in her chair and says "wow" a lot. I told her about one dream and she said she had never heard of such things before... That was weird. How long did this chick go to school?

I got a diagnonsense.

Mild schizophrenia.

I'm supposed to take anti-psychotics.

I don't want to.

I knew I was a little off, but never thought I was, like, crazy crazy.

Prepartum Depression

I suffer from raging baby fever. My surgery date is set - October 23! I go in Wednesday for a pre-op appointment so they can get me in sooner if something opens up.

Since I'm not having a hysterectomy anymore, and the new procedure might allow fertility for a couple more years, (before I have the eventual hysterectomy I'll need) - all I can think about is having another baby while I actually may still be able to. Since I had already dealt with never being able to have more children before, when I was going to have a hysterectomy, I think the newfound possibility makes the fantasies stronger and more pervasive. A sense of urgency.

So I started figuring that if: surgery goes well, I start working again, and we get caught up in bills - I wanted to try for another baby. The thought makes me happy, just imagining. Going through the experience with the other person, and not having to be 16, alone, poor, guilty, and scared shitless.

No one else seems stoked. Fiance looked at me like I was insane when I brought it up. In fairness, I have been thinking about it for awhile and presented it to him like this: "So, here's what I'm thinking, after I have surgery and start working, we're gonna try for another kid." He's all for the idea of going through physical requirements of trying, but not so much of reaching the pregnancy goal. Also, I didn't really give him time to think, then I got all stupid-chick-emotional-butt-hurt when he wasn't jumping up and down with excitement... After a bit, he said that when things stabilize, he's open to the idea. I remained a little stupid-chick-emotional-butt-hurt, but hid it well. As all semi-intelligent insane women eventually learn to do. It's all about hiding the extra-strength crazy.

Daughter picked up on the topic through small innuendos between myself, Fiance' and Mom-In-Law (sidenote: children are far smarter than people give them credit for, they so often know what's going on and get frustrated when no one talks to them about it because they're "too young".) Anyhow, afterwards, Daughter was visibly upset. I asked her time and again what was the matter, and Daughter told me it was nothing and she was simply tired. Finally, when we laid down for bed, I got her to spill. Daughter began crying. She doesn't want me to have another child. She likes things how they are. She's afraid she won't be my favorite person anymore. As I've discussed here before, I have always had concerns that I could never love another person more than Daughter and Step-Son - even my own child. I mean, I would still love the crap out of the kid, but I do honestly wonder if I am capable of feeling that way with anyone else. When I told Daughter that her concern was ill-founded and that I will always love her bigger than the mountains. She replied, quite convinced "that's what you say now, but that changes when people have a new baby." More tears. I didn't know what to say. I reassured her that we would all be one big lovin' family, but she was inconsolable. Finally, I told her that it wasn't even something we were trying for anytime soon, it was just a thought. Who knows if I can even have more children, many doctors have told me I probably still can't, even now that I get to keep my stupid fancy uterus. We put aside the issue for now, but she still seemed worried.

So, sadly, all this made me feel like I shouldn't have another baby. I don't want to be the only one stoked about the idea. And I already had my Keep-The-Baby-Daddy kid, so that parts taken care of. Still, I want it, I daydream about it, I can't get it outta my head. I dunno. I guess I should keep my maternal fantasies to myself and turn my daydreams to getting a dog.

Tried to make me go to rehab

Today I came home from a 6-day visit to Crapsville, California. Brother Electrician - well, both brothers are electricians... so I guess I'll go with Brother Helicopter and Brother Books. Anyhow, Brother Helicopter bought me a Greyhound ticket. I spent the whole time with my brothers, sister, niece and nephews, and Mom and Step-Dad. Didn't check in with any old friends. It was great.

One of my favorite things in the world is when all four of us siblings get together, chill out in a room, and gab. We talk about everything. Flying airplanes (Brother Helicopter is huge into flying, and demolishing, super-expensive planes and airplanes); family gossip of all kinds, who Brother Books is banging this month, analingus, and Buddha Statue stealing (family tradition - we all steal eachothers Buddha - I don't think my brother realized I ganked one of his yesterday). It's so much fun. We threaten to beat the shit out of eachother, and end up laughing about anything together.

I didn't get to see much of Mom. She threw her back out and ended up in bed pretty much the whole time I was there, waking only for work. That disappointed me, I whined and whined about how hurt I was that she didn't hang out with me =( Closest thing I got was when I stormed her room, jumped into her bed, and watched General Hospital with her.

Anyhow, I think one of the reasons Brother Helicopter wanted me to come was so that he could see how I looked, acted, etc., given my illness. Fortunately, I went to my doctor the day before I left and my medicine regime got completely changed. Now I take enough morphine every day to kill a (small) horse. This led to me feeling, actually, pretty well. I felt hardly any pain, for the first time in a long time. Except for a few vomiting episodes, I held up really well. This led Brother Helicopter to believe that I am fine. So all I heard from him was that I need to throw out my meds and "just deal." In addition to the pain scripts, I also take antidepressants, sleep aid, and a bunch of antibiotics/albuterol/cough syrup for the lovely case of bronchitis I'm trying to knock. Brother Helicopter said that the bronchitis was probably a side-effect of one of the other medications =)This doesn't bother me so much. I understand that Brother Helicopter hasn't seen me during a really bad spell; he's never had to pull me from the floor or wipe vomit from my cheeks. I was so stoked to be feeling decent while I was visiting, but on the other hand, I think my brother is now convinced that I'm a-o.k. He told me over an over again how I need to stop taking all my medications. He compared it to muscle aches he gets from work - and said, with pride, that all he ever does is apply topical muscle cream. I tried to explain that my situation is a bit different, but to no avail.

He was especially concerned about the anti-depressants. When I told him that every doctor I've seen insists that I stay on them (since my July euthanization attempt) - he told me that I haven't been suicidal since I was 13 - and I explained that I was actually 28 in July, just like I am now. Brother Helicopter is looking out for me and worries - so I'm not mad. I just feel like the direction his concern is taking is misplaced, and that sucks.

Brother Helicopter has also been trying to convince me that Daughter should go and live with him for awhile. See, our father was really, really sick when I was 11 until he died when I was 13. Daughter is 11 and Brother Helicopter fears she will have to go through the same hell we went through ... I don't know. Maybe he's right, maybe I'm being selfish in keeping her here. I love Brother Helicopter. I just wish I felt more support from him =(I don't know.

Because I really respect Brother Helicopter's opinion, I find myself thinking a lot about what he said, and it's getting into my head that maybe he's right. Maybe I need to just stop taking all of my medications and deal. Maybe I should wait til after surgery. Maybe I should at least stop the antidepressants. Maybe I should can all my pills and start smoking the ganja.

If he pays for rehab, I might go, go, go.

Lamest Diet in the Land.

Upon the advice of my grandmother (GRM), Loony Tunes Aunt and affiliated friends of the aforementioned - I have gone on a "gluten-free" diet. Doesn't that totally sound like something for obese elderly people? Anyhow, this consists of switching to soy and rice milk, and other milk-products have been replaced with soy alternatives. Plus I bought lame special cereal that tastes kinda mushy. I guess it's not that bad. And I actually really like soy and rice milk.

Biggest problem with this diet is that it is in conjunction with my 20-years of vegetarianism. I'm basically left eating soy, fruits and vegetables. Everyone says I should start eating some meat again. GRM told me to get over myself.

Here's the thing - I have no problem with the whole "killing animals for human needs" thing. I rock leather Maddens all the time, we beat the cows (and hence the right to eat them), and if there were a medication that would potentially cure my disease - I would hold the monkey down and drip shit in his eye myself. Of course, when I embarked on vegetarianism when I was 8, it was for all those idealistic reasons. But I evolved from that. Nowadays, I don't eat the meat cause it grosses me out. It's like the people on Fear Factor eating the bugs - they can't do it because it's so nasty to them. That's how I feel about all meat. Hate the texture, the look... ucko for days.

So, what to do, what to do. I've been doing the gluten free + vegetarian for about a week with no improvement. I've felt worse in the past few days than I have in weeks. But that could just be a down period. I have those. Good days and bad. So, even though I've been following the diet when I eat, I haven't really been able to eat much (of anything). I'm pretty much convinced this new diet won't work, but I'll catch hell from my grandmother if I don't try it. I think I need the surgery, "skinning" the inner lining of my abdominal wall and cutting off some nerves, to really help. I've been researching the procedure and it does sound like a better option than the hysterectomy (which, I'm told, only gives me a 50% shot at seeing any improvement.) The new operation has a better success rate, although it is a scarier and more complicated procedure.

*sigh* This is all taking SOOOooooo... long. I have an appointment with the new surgeon next week.

Stupid girl.

I've noticed that my brain is not working the way it should. I bet if I took an IQ test, I would score somewhere along the "Socially Retarded" line. I'm guessing I've dropped at least 45 points.

I was talking to CECU last night (yes, I answered the phone), and noticed that in the middle of conversation, I would forget the topic, let alone the many ways in which I disagreed with him. Don't get me wrong, CECU is too smart for his own good - I just like to take the other side of whatever he is arguing and be contrary. I blame this on law school. I was never an argumentative pride-fest before. Family members might disagree, but I stand by this assertion. Anyhow, I know things are bad when I can't even win a silly argument with CECU over the meaning of "delusional"...

So I wonder, why am I all dee-dee-dee? Is it the duffle bags of medication? Side effect of illness? Repercussions of a mind not challenged? (spell check informed me that I spelled repurcussions wrong. Grumble. I changed it. Spell check also says duffle is spelled wrong, but I don't think so, so I'm leaving it as is.)

It's really bugging me. If I were smarter, I would say it's really bothering me.

If only I would wake.

I feel awful. I've felt awful for so long now. Part of me wants this over. Not going to do anything about it, but I keep wishing it. The idea of death seems sweet when you don't feel alive. But I don't have to make this mistake.

When I think of my father, almost all I remember is a sick man. I am so afraid that is what Daughter will have. Memories of a mother sick. In bed. Crying. I would rather be gone and have her remember a short time of happiness than to only remember me sick. Her voice is all I hear somehow.

Today the hospital called and said that my surgery has finally been authorized. Still not sure when it is, but I'm guessing early next week. Third surgery; they're gonna gut me. Uterus, gallbladder, appendix. Everything I don't technically "need." I hope this works. So badly I hope this works. I need this to work just to get by. And I don't have to stay this way.

I wanted more children. I always thought I might have a son. And another daughter... Three or four kids, that was what I wanted. I really knew that was what I wanted when I found out it would never be. What I do have is
Daughter and Step-Son. Amazing Step-Son, that I hardly see and whose life I have no control over the course of. Daughter is perfect. So perfect that I don't think I deserve her sometimes. My mother has four kids. Seems like a good number. My theory is that about 1/2 of your kids are gonna be different than you expected, or even hoped for. That ratio goes to me and my brother. My other brother and sister are the golden children. With all my eggs in one basket, I fear I'll pressure Daughter too much to be everything that I need, rather than who she wants to become. I could have lost myself in rough blue waters in her eyes.

Feeling philosophical lately. Thinking of all the possibilities. And the what-ifs. The maybes. I am in love with the maybes. A friend told me recently that anything is possible. I don't know if I believe that. Maybe things are only possible if you chase the possibility, catch it, cradle it, and make it yours. Maybe. But then what happens when things are out of your control? I don't know. I don't know what I believe anymore. I should know who I am by now.

I'll try to make it happen. While I wait.

Turkelton's Words of Wisdom

"Can't talk now, good things happenin" - Chris Turk

Finally.

Surgery was approved. I go under the knife to get my womanhood removed. Probably on the 23d or 24th.

BigLaw called. I'm scheduled to meet with a buncha partners and associates next week. Biggest concern BigLaw has is a lack of experience. I haven't done many depositions and the Old Boss never let me do oral argument. Any advice on how to handle this hurdle is greatly appreciated. Especially those of you at BigLaw. Anything you've got on what BigLaw wants to hear/ see/ anything would be a big help.

Got some food stamps. Sweet. Now we can eat. Yee-haw!

Mom is still here. That's always a good thing. Mommys help. Good ones do.

Daughter came home yesterday!!! I almost cried I was so happy to see her. She was gone for five weeks. Longest we've ever been separated.

Step-Son is coming today!!!! I haven't seen him since April. When both of the kids are here, I'm the happiest I can be. Today and tomorrow are going to be awesome.

I really want to thank all of you who are still reading and left kind words of support. That really did me good. It's amazing how people you don't even really know can be there for you. That's been the best part of the blogosphere. I'm interested in those who commented. Long time lurkers I've never heard of.

"Make Mine a Triple": I inserted lots of fun obscenities. That was a great exercise in making fun of Old Boss. You'll be on the blogroll soon.

Busto: Here's to taking it to the next level. We exchanged "real names" recently. I have a MySpace under my real name if you want to be my friend.

Sarah: Word on the vacation. I've had a ton of time off of work, but none of it for fun. I really want to go to Disneyland. Or Africa. That would be awesome.

Nony "This to Shall Pass": You're right. I"m finally starting to see that things have to get better. Now I'm wondering where you went to school and if I know you. I'm a Boaltie - graduated in Spring 2005. If you did too, or went to my school, email me your name. I want to look you up in the facebook. Please keep lurking - I'm an attention whore.

Special thanks out to Sadie and Uncle Reptile. I know I stayed in my room, but it helped knowing you guys were there and care so much.

To the family: I don't think I'll be ready to talk about all this until after surgery when I can see the light. I love you all and hope you understand my contact delay.

"Sometimes I watch Roots to remind myself how good I have it." - Chris Turk.

Not to Be Anti-Immigrant / Rascist...

...But I'm about to look like it anyway.

Went by the bus stop today. Nothing but pregnant Hispanic chicks. And their crying babies.

Went to the welfare office today. Nothing but pregnant Hispanic chicks. And their crying babies.

Went to the free women's health clinic today. Nothing but pregnant Hispanic chicks. And their crying babies.

So, all in all, I spent the day with a bunch of pregnant Hispanic chicks. And their crying babies.

On the opposite end of the spectrum - there was not one Hispanic anything chick in the Psychiatric Hospital. Or their crying babies. All white folk.

What does it all mean?

Es Weird

Blogger is only letting me put titles in on Edit Html mode. Not cool, I'm no html girl. Unfortunately.

BigLaw called today. I made it past Stage One and will be going in for a second interview. Is nice.

More importantly, I discovered Joshua Radin. I might be at the late show on this one. I care not.

Tomorrow morning, I'm off to the welfare office to try to score some food stamps. Then I go to the county hospital's "Women's Health Clinic" to see about a surgery. All around good times.

Law degree so paying off.

Hmmm... it won't let me put in a title... WTF?

Sorry for the long absence... i haven't exactly been inspired.

I lost my job in May. I was hospitalized and The Boss fired me for being sick. About a year ago, when he fired Bitchy Paralegal for being sick, I told The Boss we needed to research and make sure he wasn't violating FMLA or the ADA. Armed with the knowledge that he doesn't have enough employees to be liable - I got shit-canned. One week later, word came that Bitchy Paralegal died. She was young.

Anyhow, on top of that, looks like I need another surgery. This should be the last one, a hysterectomy. I dreamt last night that I had a baby - a little girl. She was beautiful. That will never happen now.

I spent July 4th in a Psychiatric Hospital. Dude, people in there are fucking crazy. I never felt so sane in my life, even though I was in there with them. Long story short, short-sighted Lex was considering euthanizing herself. Honestly my friends, I don't know how much longer I can handle being sick. Life just isn't life like this.

So I scared the shit out of everyone and embarrassed myself severely. I'm a wreck. My mind is a disaster and I can't stay out of it. Fiance' has done everything - he loves me so much - but I suppose that's his misfortune. Right now anyhow. My mom also flew in and I got to lay my head in her chest and cry and cry for the first time in years.

I interviewed with BigLaw last week. We shall see.

I'll try to post more often. I'm back only because my grandmother, the Grand Republican Matriarch, told me she thinks I should keep writing. She's probably right, it does help.

E.P.T. = Embarrassing Purchase Tale

During my lunch break, I went to my local drugstore to purchase a pregnancy test. [Boys - Caution - Girl Stuff Coming]. My period hasn't started, I've been incredibly nauseous, and my boobs are swollen. Not all bad. But I finally got worried enough to wonder whether I was maybe knocked up. The idea seemed outlandish at first - I've been told by plenty of doctors that I probably cannot have more children. A week passed and still no period. It should have come by now. And there were those two days in a row last month that I forgot to take my pill, and even though we used condoms for a few days like you're supposed to, there were other, non-condom escapades... Plus, Fiance' and I have a lot of sex, so the chances of me getting sperminated while ovulating are decent (save for the whole "I'm supposed to be infertile" thing). Anyhow, today was the day I decided that I needed to make sure one way or the other. So I go to the drugstore, grab the box, and walk to the counter to purchase the only item I retrieved.

The cashier engaged me:

Cashier: Looks down at my purchase as he scans it. Beep. "Quite a day huh?" Glance at my face searches for a reaction.
Lex: Oh My God, he is talking about my pregnancy test! "Yup." Big smile.
Cashier: "So, you're hoping for a positive result?" He's genuinely curious. Why?
Lex: Oh My God, how can he ask me that!!! "Yeah." Embarrassed girlie smile.
Cashier: "Do you want a boy or a girl?"
Lex: Can't believe I'm having this conversation. "Doesn't matter, so long as the baby is healthy."
Cashier: Smile. "That's what counts."
Lex: "Sure is."
Cashier: "Well, good luck. Here's your receipt."
Lex: What, am I going to return the test if I don't get the result I want? "Thanks." Walks out quickly.

The thing is, I wasn't buying the test "hoping" I am pregnant. I was scared. All I could think about was what I would do, how Fiance' would feel, how Daughter would react. Will I keep the baby? I've always said I am pro-choice but could never have an abortion myself. But I've talked about doing it if I became pregnant by accident. Especially at this point in my life, when I'm poor, trying to get healthy, wishing I were established in my career, and so on. On the other hand, I love being a mom, and they all said I can't have another baby, so if I am pregnant, shouldn't I keep the baby because I might not ever have this chance again? Would it be like "a sign." Nah, I don't believe in signs. Point is, I wasn't buying the test with the hope it would give me a "+" for pregnancy. But I pretended like I did to Cashier Guy, because I didn't want him to judge me. I didn't want this random stranger to think I was some whore who got knocked up, probably to get some guy to stay with me or to milk someone for child support. I didn't want him to think bad of me, so I lied and pretended I was ecstatic at the possibility.

I got to work and immediately went to the restroom and peed on the stick.

Negative.

Guilt

Front Secretary was away at lunch when I heard the door open. I walked to the front to see if there was a delivery or something, since we're not expecting any clients or runners right now. At the door was (I would later learn), Benefit Guy - our firm's liason with the insurance carrier that covers the employees. We were talking about real estate and I mentioned that I was a renter. Benefit Guy said there is no reason for me to be a renter anymore. I responded that I had a ton of debt - school, medical, family loans... At this point, Benefit Guy pulled me aside and told me that the firm's premium had increased significantly this year, due to the number of claims made by member's of the group's plan in 2006. Those were my claims. He wasn't a jerk about it or anything, but he didn't need to be. His reaction is not the one that worries me.

The Boss is so not going to be happy, especially since I'm getting sick again. It's been back for a few weeks, I just wasn't ready to tell yet. It was nice to be in "everything's ok again" land for a little while. I'm not handling the recurrence so well.

=(