One of these days...

So coping week is over. I guess every day is a battle, but official coping week on the blog is over. I got a lot out, sorted through a lot of things, and received so much support from all of my lovely friends. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Just one last post then we're done. Lots of goodies on their way so stay tuned!

And now, rewinding to Thursday, my hospital day...



*~*

I was all ready.

I was ready for the pain. I was ready for the intense emotions. I was just ready.

When I woke up from the anesthesia with a weird feeling and an unrecognizable, unfamiliar discomfort - not even a pain, really - I knew something was going on. I immediately started sobbing because well, first off, that's what anesthesia makes me do. Then secondly, I am a control freak, and whatever had happened was definitely not what I had planned - I didn't know the specifics, but I knew what my body told me. As soon as she saw I was waking up, Marilyn (or whatever her name is... after being her patient so many times, I'm still not sure how I can't seem to ever remember her name) excitedly told me that there were no varices to band. That's when I lost it. But they saw them on the MRI! How could there be none? Then there was the fact that the anesthesiologist and I had a few issues and she didn't want to abide by my wishes and well, long story short... she put me under too soon, and while some might not care, I do. It stems back to my childhood and what I remember at such a young age as I was put under time after time. She stole my control, she stole my experience, she stole my comfort. I was all too aware of that upon my awaking, and that just added to the frustration. Other than that, all I remember completely losing it and my sweet nurse got a washcloth and came and wiped my tears. She's always been my favorite nurse in the Pediatric OR, and I'm sure it's for little reasons like this. :)

So we paged my doctor, and it came to end up that the varices were high, and I know in the past she's said we can't band those because of the blockage risk. I vaguely remember her saying before something about banding them would cut off the blood supply to the lower portion of the esophagus, but I can't completely remember. (Anesthesia... I blame the anesthesia!) So technically, this is far from a good thing because those distal varices could still rupture at any time. And yet everyone's exciting thinking this means I'm all better now. Right.

So me? Now? I'm stuck here, completely shaken up. I was supposed to be in bad pain, I was supposed to be on around-the-clock narcotics, and instead? I'm just maxing out on my benzos and trying to sleep off the anesthesia.

One of these days....... one of these days my mind won't be such a gigantic trainwreck. One of these days, I'll actually progress along the path of emotional healing and I won't keep falling off.

Can't wait for therapy on Wednesday. I need it so badly.

*~*

Doing a little better this week. Reading. Praying. Hanging on. What else is there to do, right?