cancer

001: Cocooning 

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Sort of proof-read.
Also, this is a long post, and talks about surgery. You have been warned. ^^

I am cocooning right now. I don’t know if that’s a word, but I’m going to use it like it is. 

There is so much to catch up on to understand where “here” is for me. 

I don’t know where my last post was; when it was. So I’ll start from where I feel I should. January of last year. 

I had left my previous job as an auto glass technician. I wasn’t being paid enough to survive. Each month Ox had to help me make ends meet. I couldn’t afford health insurance through the business because it was so expensive. I also couldn’t get the information I needed to get into a government program. 

With a chronic condition, I realize just how much of a benefit health insurance is. 

I went through an exploratory program that I saw on Indeed. That was in like… November of 2022. Went through the program. It seemed alright. Did the job shadow and interview. Waited to hear yay or nay, and was given a job offer. So that’s where January of 2023 starts. New job. New team. New orientation and training.

It went well. Survived training. Started doing production work. Kept breathing through the fear of getting fired due to my experience with Nelnet laying me off. I didn’t feel part of the team. I didn’t have loyalty to my new company aside from showing up to work, doing my best, and getting a paycheck to maybe recover from the financial strain of the rental I had been in. 

Fast forward to September of 2023.  I went for a yearly checkup for insurance purposes. While I was there I broke down because my depression was so bad. Like, my doctor almost didn’t let me leave her office. I was put back on Zoloft and given a referral for consoling. I was also given a referral to dermatology for a spot on my check. It might be nothing, but better to get it checked out.

I had my first therapy session in the parking garage at work on my phone. There was a last-minute opening and I took it, but didn’t have enough time to get home to have the remote session on my computer. After ensuring I wasn’t legit driving my car and in a space where I could talk freely, I began the entry evaluation with my maybe new therapist. I wasn’t sure if we would mesh and was aware that I might not see her past the first session.

We got along alright. I disconnected from the session with a second session already scheduled. Headed home like normal and got rearended while I was stopped by someone going 55 mph. My car was totaled. 

About a week later I found out the spot on my cheek was skin cancer. Melanoma. I was being referred to a major hospital about an hour and a half away from me since it was on my face. I would have to have the lesion removed and then have reconstructive surgery which may require a skin graft. 

I got the car thing figured out. The used car market is shit right now where I live. So I ended up getting a 2022 Nissan Kicks. Electric blue with auto start. 

This wasn’t how I wanted to get autostart. I didn’t want a car payment. I didn’t want to have to figure this shit out. My old car wasn’t having issues. It had awesome gas mileage. It was small and comfortable and mine. It was paid off with cheap insurance. 

But alas, keeping my car was not part of the equation. 

For a week Ox dropped me off at work at 3 AM so he could make it to his own job on time. Eventually, I was able to get a rental set up. It was supposed to be some lame 4 door something something something, but when I got to the rental place, they had this awesome blue car in the lot. And it was available to rent. So that’s how I got to drive an electric blue Nissan Kicks around for a while. 

When I got the settlement for my totaled car, I had 3 days to figure out a new car before I started being charged for the rental. Also, cancer surgeries were scheduled for the end of October. I didn’t have time to fuck around with car shit. 

So I took a couple of days off work. Couldn’t find a used car on the first day. Only trucks and SUVs and of course, Mazda 2s are no longer made because why would they be…that night I went through the process of figuring out how much my bank would give me for a car loan. I wasn’t going to find a used car that I would like. If I had to drop money on a car I didn’t want to have had to replace in the first place, I wanted to at least like the new one.  

The next day, armed with a number, I started searching for Nissan dealerships. I found one. They had an electric blue Nissan Kicks. The same thing I was currently driving, which I knew handled well and got fairly good gas mileage. 

I called up the dealership. Asked if they still had it. They did. I put $500 down on it so they wouldn’t sell it. Waited for Ox to get off work. Returned the rental, and then drove roughly an hour to get my new car. 

So that’s the story of the car. The day before I drove up to have the lesion on my face removed I paid the sales tax and was able to scratch off the last “car task” from my to-do list. Now I could focus on cancer… again… 

I was awake for the lesion removal. I have nothing to compare it to. Having to willing sign a piece of paper saying “I agree to have this done” when the last thing you want is for a stranger to come at your face with a scalpel… To have to lay still while a part of your face is cut away…

Pre-op, my diastolic blood pressure didn’t get below 126. For anyone not medical reading this, that’s a super shitty, not ok number. The staff was all up in arms about me having an energy drink with me, which yeah, may have contributed to the issue, but I fully believe my blood pressure would have sucked regardless because there are not enough drugs in the world to make conscious face cutting ok. 

I ended up signing the consent form and taking a Xanax. After about 15 minutes, I didn’t care. I should add that I was trying not to break down the entire hour we waited to get my blood pressure to come down naturally before I signed my consent. Like, I would be borderline sobbing, and the care team would leave the room to give me some space. Ox would comfort me. I would calm down. The team would come back in to take my blood pressure and it would all start over again. The feeling of being unable to breathe, wishing desperately that I could leave without a horrific death related to secondary cancers looming over me. 

I did not want surgery. I also didn’t want to die. This whole time they “thought” it was only in the first layer of my skin, which would be awesome. It means surgery would have like a 99% chance of removing all the cancer and I would be fine without further intervention. But they wouldn’t know for sure it was only in the first layer until the lesion was examined under a microscope. 

With each level of depth to melanoma the chances of survival drastically dimenision. For statistical reference, melanoma makes up about 15% of reported skin cancer cases. It makes up roughly 70-ish % of skin cancer deaths. So yeah, since we didn’t know what we were dealing with I had to stay overnight in the area in case we had to go back in for more surgery the next day. 

Anywho… we couldn’t get my blood pressure into the OK zone for the surgery. Signed consent that I didn’t want to sign, took a Xanax, and then I just didn’t care about any of it. I wasn’t ok with it. I wasn’t magically happy or better. I was just so apathetic that I literally didn’t care. 

Oh… You want to cut up my face? Fine. Fuck it. It’s not like it matters. What’s the point of anything anyway? We’re all going to die. I’ll just lay here and cry silent tears knowing that this nightmare is real and there’s nothing I can do about it and all of it fucking sucks. 

Ox had to leave the room for the lesion removal. Once it was over my wound was packed with so much gaze and padding it was like I had a softball tapped to my face. And I was sent home like that to wait for test results. Ox and I stayed at a hotel. We went back to the hospital the next day. The nurse told us my results hadn’t returned yet. So we waited. And waited. 

When the nurse came back it was to tell me that the margins came back negative. I was cancer-free. No more surgery was needed. While that was good news to hear, it meant I moved to the next stage of the cancer saga. Reconstructive surgery. 

I came back home with Ox and lived my first of many weeks of not being able to shower. I couldn’t get the dressing on my face wet. I had to leave it in place until reconstruction. When your morning routine for over 20 years has been “wake up, eat, shower”… the not being able to shower part totally fucks shit up. 

It was also the first of many weeks of not being able to eat much of anything. I couldn’t open my mouth wide enough to get more than a level spoonful of food into my mouth, and even then I couldn’t really chew anything. Soups were a big part of my life. If I could eat or drink something through a straw it had a high chance of being successfully consumed. I found out there is a shop in town that does protein smoothies. That became the small bright spots in my day.

It was horrible going there the first time. Taped up, looking fucked up, not able to talk much because I couldn’t move my jaw… The staff members were so kind. They made the shake more liquidy for me so I could drink it easier. They never once made me feel bad or like I shouldn’t be in their shop. They had sympathy, empathy, and compassion, but never pity. Their kindness meant so much to me, especially during that first week. 

I had more therapy sessions between the car wreck and the surgery. We talked about my fear of having the mask put on my face for reconstruction because of my thyroid surgery experience. We talked about so many things, trying to… I don’t know, brace for the surgeries? Have less anxiety about them? Something…  I think it helped. I also think nothing can ever truly prepare you for the aftermath of surgery. 

Before I knew it, Ox was driving me back to the hospital so more of my face could be cut up. 

I cried as I was being put under, but at least this time I didn’t have to be awake. 

When I did wake up I was in recovery. Not long after I woke up it was discovered that I had uncontrolled bleeding. The surgeon was called in. I was given… morphine I think… something. I was awake while they unbandaged my face, removed the sutures, pulled back my skin, and found the blood vessel that was causing problems. Then my face was stitched back up.

I had blood everywhere. My neck, my ear, matted into my hair. I knew that I should care, but I didn’t. I was just laying there, feeling my blood run over my skin, feeling the sutures being pulled out, and feeling nothing within myself. Just emptiness and helplessness because even though I wanted none of this to be happening, it was happening, and it had to happen to stop the bleeding. 

While the surgeon was working, she told me skin from my shoulder/neck area had to be taken to create a graft. So not only was my face full on Frankensteined with stitches and swelling, but I had a lift restriction and another wound to care for because of the sutures at the base of my neck. 

Once the bleeding was stopped and I was stitched back together, I was allowed to go home. 

Oh… and that whole time they were figuring out the uncontrolled bleeding thing… Ox was in the waiting area freaking the fuck out. He does not have fond memories of those three to four-ish, hours…

For him it went “We started surgery” Hours of silence. “Surgery is done, it went well.” A little later, “Oh… there’s a bleeding issue we’ll let you know what’s going on”… one hour of silence, two hours of silence, three hours of silence… Like… Am I dead, dying? Is it going ok? Something? Anything? Then, finally, someone came out and said, “Ok you can come see her”. While it sucked being in the situation I was in, I cannot even begin to imagine how hard those hours must have been for him. 

Through all of this, work was amazingly supportive. With the whole car thing and my trip to the ER because I lost feeling in my arm a week after the wreck while I was at work, to getting the news about my diagnosis, to needing time off to figure out the car, and then more time off for the surgeries plus the recovery…

My team sent flowers to the house along with a card that everyone signed. They also sent money with a note saying they hoped it help provide food for me so I didn’t have to worry about cooking while I was trying to recover. Just… so much kindness and compassion. I cried when I read the card. I still have it. 

Anywho… I had to wait like… another week before the stitches could come out. Another week of no showers. Ox helped me with my dressing changes. We took progression pictures to track how the wound was doing. Was it more swollen, more red? Was it showing signs of infection? Nope, it actually looks better compared to the last picture. 

It was and still is hard to see those pictures. I will have these scars for forever and there’s nothing I can do to hide them. They will fade and be less prominent, but never fully gone. 

That was and is hard. 

When I got the sutures removed I was told how good the incisions were healing. It was still another week before I could shower. We didn’t want water to mess with the incisions and injure the blood vessels growing into the rearranged skin on my face. 

Ox helped me wash my hair a couple of times. The first time I didn’t last very long. I had to lay across three of the kitchen chairs so I could hang my head over the bathtub while he used the shower head to try to rinse the blood from my hair. 

I couldn’t hold that position for very long with the incision at the base of my neck. Supporting my head like that hurt and I could only handle the pain for so long, even while on pain meds. 

The first hair rinse almost made me sick because all I could smell was the copper of my blood. The water was filthy with it, and still, I could feel blood on my scalp. So much had washed out and yet there was more. I went through so many q-tips trying to get the blood out of my ear…

The second hair rinse went better. The water wasn’t as dark. I could shampoo more and for longer. 

We ended up going to Cost Cutters once my sutures were removed. My hair had grown down to my butt. Not the easiest thing to care for when you’re not able to shower or get your face wet. 

Though I didn’t have open wounds on my face, I knew it was hard to look at the fresh incisions, and I knew some people wouldn’t be ok with providing service to me. The lady to met me at the counter was super professional, though. She said she didn’t have a problem at all. We discussed how much of my hair to cut off. We did a dry cut, getting a majority of the length off, then she had me sit at the washing station and washed my hair. 

She washed my hair. MY HAIR WAS FINALLY WASHED! I felt so much more human. Holy fuck I can still remember how unbelievably fucking fantastic it felt to have my hair properly shampooed for the first time in over three weeks. 

When she was done washing my hair, she took me over the her station so we could do a proper cut. She asked if I had any pain or tenderness with the incisions, and then just talked to me like… I was me. Like I was normal and didn’t have a fucked up face. Just two people, shootin’ the shit during a haircut. 

She treated me with respect and kindness. She helped me when I wasn’t able to do something so simple, so basic, as wash my own hair. I gave her a $100 tip for a $10 wash. She asked if I had meant to put that large of a tip and I told her if I were able to give more I would because I appreciated what she did so much. 

She may have “just been doing her job”, but for me, it was so much more than that. I didn’t feel human. My face was still extremely swollen and just the thought of going back to work gave me anxiety let alone actually going back, which was what was on my horizon the following week. I felt like I didn’t belong in public because there was no way to not make people uncomfortable,  and here she is, telling me about her cats and gossiping and shit with me like I’m just another person. I cannot put into words how much that meant to me. You cannot put a price on priceless things. The best I could do was the extra $100 I had, since Ox and I ended up not having to stay two nights at the hotel for the lesion removal.

Going back to work was hard for me. Everyone was so kind, so supportive. Everyone, in their own time, came to my desk to talk to me. It helped ease the fear I felt; the non-belonging feelings started slowing easing, and work eventually started feeling “safe” because people still joked around with me. I was still invited to have lunch with the girls. My co-workers would still make eye contact with me, which helped me feel seen and like I mattered. I was still me. 

So this was like… the second week of November. My return to work. With cancer taken care of for the most part, that let me focus on my shin because, during the car wreck, my left shin had smashed into the break peddle and formed a crazy massive bruise.

When I had gone to the ER for my arm, I mentioned my shin. A large black scab had formed which didn’t seem like a “normal” scab and there was a clear-ish yellow liquid leaking from under the scab. 

They did x-rays and nothing was broken or fractured in my leg. I was told not to worry about the scab. So I didn’t. The scab ended up washing off in the shower one day. Since it was then an open wound, I put antibacterial cream on it, covered it, and went about my day. The car was still an issue and after that, I had cancer on my plate. If my leg wasn’t actively falling off then it could wait its turn.

Well… here we are, still have an open wound on my shin, and not much progress has been made in the healing department even though my face is healing well. So that turned into a couple of ER visits because it developed cellulitis and the antibiotics I was given weren’t helping. So the second visit I got an IV antibiotic and a referral to wound care. 

That led to bi-weekly debridements of my wound, which sucked. On January 19th I was given a skin grafter for that, which finally allowed a scab to form. It is 100% officially healed now, in February… It took from September until February for this thing to heal completely… 

The skin graft was over 5k. The only reason I know that is that the hospital misfiled it as workmen’s-comp, so it was rejected by my insurance. 

Debridements are $500 if you were wondering because one of those got misfiled too… Thankful that has been adjusted because there was no way I was going to pay for something that I was told would be covered by the other insurance. Like… I just had two surgeries on my face, I can’t afford to own an additional $5000 because someone else destroyed my car with me in it. 

So… things are settling down. I just had my one-year review at work. I have exceeded all goals that were set for me. I will be promoted in July to Drafting I. Therapy is going well. I have had a few EMDR sessions with my therapist, and so that’s where I am currently. 

Cocooning and figuring out how to incorporate all of the bullshit my life has been for the past six-ish months. 

So what is cocooning?

For me, is when I withdraw and become introspective. I’ve been watching a lot of comedy stuff on Netflix recently. I don’t have the drive or will to play a video game. I don’t want to read or cross-stitch. My mind I shifting through my truths and figuring out who I am in the aftermath of all of these events. 

I can’t do that around people or while I am engaging. It might seem like I’m laying in bed doing nothing, and on a physical level, that is accurate. Internally, I can feel that I am changing, morphing, growing, transforming. 

It’s like when you physically blank burrito… only that’s what my brain is doing. Snuggling under the warmth and safety of isolating myself from extensive external stimuli so I can work through the backlog of experiences. 

Writing is part of that process. I’ve given the bulk of the events an initial dump onto a screen because you have to start somewhere, right? Normally in the cleaning process, you have to make a mess before you can figure out what you want to keep or toss, and how you want to organize the things you keep. 

So yeah… most likely still going to be cocooning for a while, but I’m getting back to the gym, I dyed my hair this weekend, I’m in therapy, and I’m working on figuring some things out. I’m figuring out who I want to be so I can be that person once the cocoon phase is over.

Daily Post 212: The Positives of Yesterday

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I’m starting today off by writing. I’ve already sent a message to L since there were tentative plans on meeting today after my counseling. A lot of places were closed yesterday while Ox and I were out, so I think it might be best to postpone further meetings until the world stops losing its mind.

But, let’s jump into yesterday since a lot of stuff happened. All good stuff, too, I’m happy to report.

First off, yesterday was sunny. So the day already started out with better points than previous days despite all of the “what the fuck” things I had on my to-do list to figure out.

My list was a bit more organic yesterday than normal. Instead of mapping out how I envisioned the day going, I added tasks a handful at a time and tackled the small handful before assessing my energy levels and picking the next tasks to add to the list. It worked fairly well.

I canceled the electricity set up which was a pleasant and quick phone call. I messaged my cousin. I called the pharmacy and got my Synthroid figured out. I called and left a message with the apartment complex since no one answered the phone. I cooked the chicken for part of my meal prep. I sent a message to my primary care physician inquiring about a refill for my Zoloft since I don’t feel my life is in a place to try discontinuing it.

I messaged L. I messaged Nicki and got information about jury duty. There’s a letter the company can send on my behalf explaining that they can’t cover my absence for two weeks or longer. I wrote and posted my writing. I showered. I got dressed. I set up appointments with my Endocrinologist and even created a contact for them on my phone.

By that point, Ox was off work. We agreed to meet in town for lunch. He called shortly after I had left Hickman saying most places were closed, so it didn’t seem like lunch would be an option. Lame. He said he would run over to GNC for the energy drinks. We agreed to meet at Office Depot. I had an empty ink cartridge to turn in and between our DnD sheets and my typed notes for Sociology, I needed more page protectors.

I ended up getting 50 heavy weight, super sexy page protectors for $8 due to the credit I’ve built up from returning ink cartridges. Totally not complaining. We basically got them half off.

Irrational Right Brain: Oh, yeah. Look at me and my bad self being a sexy, thrifty bitch. /struts around

Once that was done Ox and I decided to brave Costco to see if we could get the few remaining items on our shopping list. While we were there I got gas for the car.

Costco wasn’t packed which was nice, and they actually had everything I needed. They also had signs encouraging social distancing, so of course I clung to Ox’s arm for nearly the entire time we were there.

Me: I’m social diiiisssstttttaaaaancing. DIIIIISSSSSTTTTAAAAANCING! You know, so you don’t get my GEEEEERRRRRMMMMMS!

Ox: I want more than your germs… >.>

Me: /blushes like a school girl

Was totally not prepared for that response to my bratty, smart-assed comments. XD

Since we were near the new apartment and I had yet to receive a phone call back from them, five hours later, I made the choice to stop in personally.

That ended up being an amazing experience.

So… If Jona nd I wanted a 2nd-floor unit, we would have to wait until the 18th of April to move in. That means we would have to figure out a place for him to stay for roughly a week with his dog. That would be pretty hard to do.

If we went with a 3rd-floor unit, we could move in as soon as April 1st. No matter which option we went with, we would be in the same style of unit, we would still receive the original promotion and rate we had signed up for, and all of April would be prorated for free.

Let me type that again…

Jon and I will be getting two months of rent… FREE. Regardless of when we move in.

Me: Why, yes. I would love to move in on April 1st. Thank you.

So that’s set into motion. April 1st is a Wednesday, so I have it off from work. With the month being prorated the way it is, I have all of the money needed to cover the pet deposit and the security deposit. With having the apartment secured before Jon moves up, we won’t have to worry about getting a hotel room on the 9th. He can just move into his new home. I have roughly two weeks to move most of my crap down two flights of stairs then up another three. With still recovering from surgery, I’m thinking that packing lighter boxes and making more trips would be the better option rather than trying to cram everything into as few trips as possible. I’ll last longer if I do things lighter. Especially on my own since Ox works on my off days.

So yes. Lots of positivity from the Universe.

Oh! And my Synthroid didn’t have a co-pay when I picked it up. Even better. : D

So yesterday turned out to be a pretty awesome day. After I got back to the apartment, I put the new groceries away and proceeded to sleep until 9:30 pm. I woke up, ate, then went back to sleep until about 6:30 this morning. I actually feel rested. I feel mentally able to handle my life since so many areas are more stable than they were yesterday morning.

As I said, I have counseling today, but that’s really the only time-sensitive obligation I have. And once again, I feel sorry for my consulder.

Counselor: So, how have you been?

Me: Well…. so all of THIS happened…

I plan for today to be mostly dedicated to catching back up with school and cleaning the apartment in small doses. That’s the next two days actually. School and cleaning. Maybe starting in on packing the non-essentials since I move in two weeks.

In two weeks I’ll have my own washer and dryer. In two weeks I’ll have a dishwasher that works. In two weeks I’ll have a ceiling fan again. In two weeks I’ll have a balcony door that isn’t finicky and actually closes properly.

In two weeks I officially begin a new chapter. I know it’s been a bit since my surgery and all, but moving is a significant change, an actual marker. Moving into the new apartment will be a start. I haven’t figured out what it will be a start of, but a start none the less. I’m looking forward to it.

Daily Post 202: Cancer and a Needle

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A lot has happened since writing yesterday and I want to start this writing with the best and biggest piece of news of all.

Kevin’s ass was kicked.

My thyroid cancer, Kevin, needs no further treatments at this time.

I met with my endocrinologist yesterday evening at 4 pm. Yesterday was full of some of the longest hours of my life. Ox and I got to the appointment early. I got checked in. We both waited to be taken back to the exam room. My vitals were taken. We waited longer… And the whole time inside my head I’m dreading the moment my doctor will sit across from me and tell me that the battle isn’t over. Here’s another unknown number of months where this thing will still be an issue on your mind.

But that wasn’t what happened.

My doctor did, in fact, come in and sit across from me. She explained, for the first time since my surgery, what the surgeon had done aside from removing my thyroid.

She explained concisely what my pathology found and that while, yes, one node out of nine along the front of my neck was positive, all of the other nodes from the left and right sides as well as all of the blood vessels and other tissues sampled came back negative. For the time being, we are not going to proceed with a radioactive treatment and instead monitor some of the things in my blood. If certain numbers stay low, then we’ll check less frequently. If they continue to remain low, then nothing else needs to happen.

So while it might be inappropriate to say this chapter is 100% done, for me, for now, I’m marking it as done. If a radioactive treatment is needed it won’t be until further in the future. I can, in fact, begin to enjoy this calm because it’s not the temporary month it felt like it would be. I have another three months or so before potentially having to look into additional steps. I can focus on school, life, work, recovering, being at peace with myself. I can not worry about cancer for the next three months.

And even if I do have to have a radioactive treatment, it won’t require a hospital stay for an unknown number of days. I would go to the hospital, take a pill, and then go home. That type of situation seems much more manageable, doable, within my world.

Labs were drawn while I was there. I won’t know until tomorrow or potentially early next week if my dosage of Synthroid needs to be adjusted. But adjusting the amount of a pill doesn’t seem as huge of a deal. Not when I know that I don’t have all of this other stuff to figure out.

It was an amazing appointment and I shared the news with several people while I was waiting to have my blood drawn. The sense of relief I had in being able to finally share good news was indescribable.

It’s over. At least, for now, it’s over. We did it. We won. It’s over.

Ox and I picked up pizza for the D&D group on our way from the doctor’s office. When we got to the house I shared the good news with the group because I couldn’t keep it to myself. No one there knew of my previous diagnosis or the surgery. They all seemed genuinely happy for the news and commented that they had no idea I had been going through something like that.

God, it was so good. I’m still riding the wave of relief. It’s done. It’s over. We won. We can stop fighting. All of the tension, and worry, and unknown can finally stop. For right now I can rest. We can rest. There’s nothing else for anyone to do.

So yes. That was the biggest thing about yesterday.

The day itself started alright. I felt frazzled for most of the morning. I knew I needed to do things and I did fairly well at working my way through my to-do list. I felt disorganized though. My mind wasn’t focused and at the time there were three areas of my life that I didn’t have clear direction in. Work, Jon moving to Nebraska, and my cancer.

I worked through different tasks at the apartment before heading out to counseling. I stopped at the house to pick up my clothes. I ran to Petsmart to get cat food and cat litter. I made it to counseling on time despite leaving later than what I would have liked.

Counseling helped me figure out a lot of my emotions. We talked pretty extensively about the work issue with me coloring. I talked about how I felt like I was more bothered by the fact that it became an issue involving my boss rather than being a conversation between me and the concerned parties. I also mentioned how I felt like it was one particular person rather than both nurses.

In my mind, regardless of why something bothers you, at least tell me, “Hey this bothers me, can you please not do it?”

Why did my coworker(s) feel like they couldn’t talk to me themselves?

That ended up being the root of my bothered-ness. If I’m supposed to work with these people, but I can’t trust them to communicate to me when there’s an issue, then how can we function as a team?

The end result of that ended up being me deciding to have a conversation with my FA to get her perspective. If she were in my shoes, and she knew people felt like they could not approach her with even minor issues, what would she do if anything?

I haven’t had that conversation yet, but I felt better for having a clear plan of action for the situation. I need to have a conversation. Nice. The work area of things seemed less like chaos since I know knew how to begin addressing the issue.

That led to talking about Jon and his decision to move. The issue of the dog might not be as hard as originally thought. His doctor does sign off on emotional support pets, which can’t be discriminated against. Jon has a really strong case for Queenie being emotionally supportive. He has an appointment with his doctor Monday to see what can be done for obtaining paperwork for her.

So while that takes some of the pressure off of the whole moving thing because it adds apartments back to our list of potential locations, not having an idea for timeframe makes things hard to figure out. Are we doing this in March? Waiting until May? When do both of our leases end? When are we looking to move in? None of this was known.

Another conversation was needed. That was the conclusion for that area of my life as well. Since Jon had officially decided to move, the next thing we needed to figure out was when. Is it going to be March, during my spring break? Would it be later, around May when both of our leases were closer to being over and my Sociology class was out of the way? What are the pros and cons of the choices we have and what one did we want to shoot for?

Two out of three areas addressed. That left my feelings regarding my upcoming appointment.

Counselor: What are you wanting to get out of this appointment?

Me: *sad laugh with tears in my eyes* I can’t have what I want. I want to be told that it’s done and over with and that I can tell everyone that I don’t have cancer.

Oh, Universe… Had I known then…

I said that realistically speaking I was hoping to know what the next steps would be and how time-sensitive they were. If I had to have this radioactive treatment done, did it have to happen soon? If so, then I would most likely have to try to get it taken care of during my spring break which may or may not affect helping Jon to move. If it could wait a little bit, maybe I could do it during the summer instead. Lots of unknowns in this regard, but I was on the road to having answers. All I needed and could do was keep breathing until my appointment and go from there.

I felt better after counseling. Still a little frazzled but not as much as I had been. I called Jon shortly after getting to my car and we talked about the whole moving thing. He agreed that though he would prefer for me to fly down now so he could be in Nebraska tomorrow, waiting until May-ish would most likely be the better option. We could plan things a bit more.

I headed to the gym and biked for roughly 30 minutes. Six miles at a top gear of 9. Not bad. Worked up a sweat. Felt good for having gone since I hadn’t the day before.

I called Jon again on my way home. It was during this conversation were I found out about the emotional support paperwork his doctor would be willing to fill out for Queenie, which is the name of his pit bull by the way. If we are able to get the paperwork in place then that puts the new apartments being built in Hickman back on the table, which is where I would really, really like to be.

I said I would call and see if I could get some questions answered in regards to the new apartments. I continued on my way home. Made the phone call. No one answered. Left a message. I started reading chapter 5 for my Sociology class and basically tried to keep my brain engaged enough to not dwell on the upcoming appointment.

Around 3 pm Ox came over. We headed into town. It started snowing as we got out of the car. Much lame. But the appointment went amazingly well so the weather couldn’t fuck with my mood.

D&D was fun. Our characters made it to level two. I found out that I forgot to put my character sheets back into the D&D bag and had to spend a majority of the time flipping back and forth between the pages for my character and a page with the stats for my Giant Badger. All that time I spent on making tables for my Bag of Tricks and then I don’t even get to use them. >.<

We headed home around 8 pm, stopping at the gas station real quick to pick up some cans of peas for the last meal I needed to make for the upcoming week. Ox and I went to bed with the kittens who were content enough to settle down with us rather than running around like coked-up fiends.

Ox woke up in the morning and got ready for work. Lately, we haven’t been having a cigarette together on my days off. He gets ready then comes in and kisses me goodbye, letting me stay in bed all nice and warm. I sleep until around 6 am which is when my alarm goes off. While there’s a part of me who misses that part of our mornings together, there’s also something sweetly romantic about goodbye kisses.

When I finally started my day, it started normally. Smoothly. Wake up, feed the kittens who would swear up and down they’ve been starving for the last eight years of their lives… Feed myself, take my med, make a to-do list, start tackling said to-do list.

Today’s pre-school stuff ended up being cleaning the litter box, washing dishes, finish reading chapter 5, take chapter five test, complete an assignment for school about a cultural icon, print cultural icon assignment and ensure it was in my notebook, cancel the loan application I had started with my bank, make a post on Facefail about the good news regarding my cancer, and post the picture of the puzzle my dad and I had worked on during his visit. All of that while the roast I needed to make for the last bit of my meal prep cooked itself in the oven.

Phew… That was a lot of stuff for only two-ish hours.

I drove to school. We began talking about the concept of universal wrongs. Do they exist and if so what are they and under what circumstances. God, I love the discussions we have in this class.

I had packed a bag for the gym but realized halfway to school that I had forgotten it at the apartment. Of course I did… So much lame, but the day was still young. I could go back out later or do something at home if I was feeling motivated to do so.

I hadn’t been back home long. Long enough to have sat down at the computer to begin writing. I wasn’t all that far into it when I noticed that Dagger was chewing on one of the threads to my current cross-stitch project. I got the spray bottle and sprayed him a few times to get him off the table and away from my project. He jumped down then started hacking a bit.

My brain froze at that moment.

Me: He ate a needle. Oh my god. I bet he ate a needle.

I rushed over to my project. Two of the three needles that I had been using were accounted for, but one was definitely missing. Dagger hacked a bit more as I rushed over to him. He laid down and let me open his mouth. No blood. No signs of a missing needle. He even started purring and licking his fur where the water had gotten him.

Me: Maybe he didn’t eat the needle?

I did a more thorough investigation of the table and the surrounding floor. Needle still missing.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I called Ox.

Me: I think Dagger swallowed a needle.
Ox: What do you mean?
Me: I mean, I think Dagger swallowed a needle.

How else do you explain that you think your cat swallowed a needle?

I didn’t stay on the phone long. We both thought calling the vet was our best option for figuring out what to do. So I called the vet.

Me: Hi. This is Jennifer, the owner of Dagger and Saber.

I explained what had happened, how Dagger had been acting, and how he seemed fine now, but that I couldn’t find the needle anywhere. The vet said without doing an x-ray there wasn’t a way to know for sure. I could take a magnate to the suspected areas of the table and floor and see if maybe the needle was hiding somewhere. The vet said they could do the x-ray at the clinic for $125 and that they could do it as soon as I could bring Dagger in.

Ox had already been on his way to the apartment. I called him back and told him what the vet said. When Ox got inside he looked around for the needle as well. We were both hoping an extra set of eyes would maybe find it. No dice.

We packed Dagger up into the cat carrier and drove the five-minute distance to the vet office. The technician took him back and returned a few minutes later.

Tech: Yep. It’s in there.

Fuck my life. Seriously. No one in their right mind can be creative enough to come up with some of the shit that happens to me.

They said there were a few options since the needle was still in his stomach. It was possible another location could go in endoscopically and retrieve it. If we stayed at the clinic we were at, they would have to perform surgery. She would call and get prices for everything so we could make a decision.

Well… the endoscopic thing would have been over $1200, not including the $125 I already owed for the x-ray.

Surgery was $600, including the x-ray.

So I signed the consent forms for the surgery and struggled to maintain my composer long enough to at least walk out of the front door. I was so furious. At myself for leaving my needlework out when I knew I should have put it away. And at the Universe because fuck you. Is this because you gave me what I wanted yesterday? I don’t have cancer but now I have to worry about Dagger dying? Fuck you. Just… fuck you.

Ox held me saying that it wasn’t my fault and things would be ok.

Me: I know. But it feels like my fault. If it’s not my fault then why does it feel that way?

Ox took me back to the apartment so I could be with Saber. This is the longest the kittens have been apart from each other. I didn’t feel right leaving her alone. I didn’t do anything for a while. I didn’t want to go to the gym or workout. I didn’t want to go back to writing. I didn’t want to color or cross-stitch or watch anything on Netflix.

I ended up cuddling with Saber and taking a nap. Ox called me once. I went back to sleep after our phone call. The next time I woke up it was to the vet calling me.

Dagger was awake and had already had a snack. The surgery went beautifully and he would be ready to come home tomorrow. They even saved the needle for me in case I wanted it back. There’s a sick part of me who does. Maybe to frame or something. I don’t know.

So that’s where I am currently in life.

I’m very aware of how even though the Universe throws random shit at me, it’s usually during a time where I can do something about it.

In this instance, I was actually home to see what was going on. I was aware of the missing needle seconds after it happened, rather than hours later if I even went to cross-stitch tonight, or potentially even the next day when Dagger started having issues for “no reason”.

No. I saw it. I knew about it and could react to it.

I also have the finances to handle the situation. Trust me, I would rather spend $600 on pretty much anything else, but if this situation was going to happen at least it happened during a time where I could afford it.

So… yeah… fuck you, Universe, but at the same time thank you.

Thank you for letting me keep Dagger. Thank you for my appointment yesterday. Thank you for making it seem like having Jon move up here will actually be doable.

Thank you for so many things. If you could stop fucking with my life that would be great.

Dagger – Vanquisher of Needles

Dragon’s Horde 060: New Nostalgia

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During the week my dad stayed with me post-surgery we ended up walking through Walmart a few times. During one of those times we decided to get a puzzle to work on together. My dad and I used to do puzzles all the time before my parents divorced.

As we were talking about what puzzle to get, I mentioned how I’ve put together a handful of 3D crystal puzzles. He had never heard or seen them, so we took a look while we were at the store. Wouldn’t you know… they had a purple dragon puzzle. I couldn’t have asked for something more perfect.

My dad and I spent the next few hours of the afternoon working on it together. It was amazing. I hadn’t realized how much I missed something as simple as sitting with him, working on something, and chatting about nothing important while bitching about pieces not fitting right.

The whole week, but this experience specifically, helped reaffirm something for me. I do have a dad and he does care about and love me. I might not be the 8-year-old girl I once was, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be nostalgic about my past, and hopeful about my future.

I know you won’t read this post, but I want you to know I love you, dad. Thanks for being there for me when mom died. That’s for holding my hand through this terrifying time of having cancer. Thanks for letting me know that I still have a partent and that somewhere, deep inside, it’s ok to still be a kid.

Dragon’s Horde 059: First Mandala

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Shortly before my surgery for thyroid cancer, one of my patients gave me a giant bag full of goodies. It was a care package to help me get through the initial days of recovery. There were all sorts of snacks and cat toys. There was also a coloring book with a set of color pencils.

The first few days after surgery were rough. I didn’t do much. Gradually I got used to the fact that I had an incision on my throat, that I no longer had an organ controlling some of my body’s most vital functions, and that while I still had a lift restriction I wasn’t as helpless as I thought I would be.

A day came where I finally felt like coloring. I wanted to do something creative, relaxing. I wanted to use the gift I had been so selflessly given. This mandala is the first one I have completed. It was comforting to go back to something I used to enjoy; to let myself get lost in the colors and the process of discovering what I wanted the image to be.

The first picture is a WIP I took. The second is the completed image.

  • WIP
  • Completed

Daily Post 200: Surviving Friday

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So I haven’t written in a few days and that’s mostly because Friday was such a hellacious day at work that it’s taken me this long to recover.

Friday started out amazing. It was the 14th. I’m not super into Valentine’s day, but February 14th was my first full day in Nebraska. It’s the day Ox and I agreed to be our anniversary because it was the start of us being together. So, regardless of it being Valentine’s day, the 14th is an important day for both of us.

My day started with waking up at 2 am like normal to take my Synthroid. When I went to the restroom there was a card on the sink counter; a card from Ox. I opened to see a glitter Valentine’s day card saying, “Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you!” Opening the card showed the response, “Oh yeah, now I remember. You put up with me!”

It really was the perfect card. We both ask each other that question all the time. “Why do you put up with me?”

There was a handwritten message below the printed one.

Ox: It also helps that you are so beautiful, smart, funny and strong. Along with so many other things too numerous to list. I love you, Jennifer. Happy Valentine’s day and 2 year anniversary. xoxo

I was nearly in tears and I crawled back into bed and hugged Ox as he slept. It was such a nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting anything. I’m not into gifts. We hadn’t talked about getting each other anything. It was just another day that ended in “y”. But no. It WAS, IS, a special day and I got something special to make it special.

When Ox woke up I hugged and thanked him for my card. He said he had found it weeks ago as he was walking through Walmart and had to get it and he had to wait this whole time to be able to give it to me. I can only imagine how hard it was to keep it that long, waiting to see my reaction.

It was a nice way to start the day. There was no indication of the hell I was about to go through. Work even started fine. I got my paperwork signed so I didn’t have that looming over me. The only thing left was to put it in the mail so I could get a date set for taking the test. I paid bills, too, because I was all gung-ho about being a productive adult.

My Brain: Yeah! Let’s conquer the day!
Universe: Hold my beer…

It wasn’t until change over started that shit hit the fan. Our first three patients had low standing blood pressure for roughly 40 minutes each. Since they drive to their treatment, we legally cannot let them leave until their pressure is within a certain range. It sucked. Hardcore. Words can’t express the level of suckage the rest of the day was. The RN and I did the best we could, but when you’re running 40 minutes behind there’s really not much you can do. : /

I was so beat up mentally by the time the day was done. I don’t really remember what I did after getting off work. I put my CCHT papers in an envelope and got it ready to be sent out. I think I started creating a “bag of tricks” sheet for the item my D&D character is using. I didn’t do a whole lot with it though. The mental effort wasn’t worth it. I do know that I went to bed praying that Saturday was a better day.

It was, thankfully. Quiet. Smooth. Nothing crazy. No low blood pressures. I was still dead on the inside, though, so it didn’t matter that the day was good. My goal was to survive and I did. Mission accomplished. Nothing extra. No to-do list to make me feel guilty. Nothing to accomplish after work other than not being at work. No socializing. No obligations. Nothing other than silence both inside my head and outside of it around me.

I did end up filling out a loan application with my bank since Jon is going to be moving to Nebraska. More on that later. The process took longer than I felt it should have since some of their instructions were unclear. I had to talk to a lady on the phone. She was extremely pleasant and helped me find the correct forms to upload. I also talked to a realtor about a house and set up a viewing of the property. I colored for a bit, wondering why I was so tied before realizing that, oh yeah, it’s because it’s 7 and that’s my bedtime.

I packed up my color pencils and went to bed with the knowledge that Sunday was a blessed day off and that for the next 24 hours I didn’t have to care about blood pressures or flipping stations fast enough for the next shift of patients.

Sunday was pretty low key. I went about my morning routine. I’m starting to find comfort in it. There’s a flow to my mornings now that wasn’t there before. There’s a pace that helps me gear up for the day. Eventually, I was ready to make an attempt at being productive.

I started by tackling the bedroom. I worked up a bit of a sweat doing it but by the end, the bed was made, the floors were swept, and the kittens had a billion toys returned to them from the random hiding places they’ve been finding to stash them.

I spent the vast majority of the day coloring. Ox and I talked a few times. When I mentioned how I hadn’t really been doing much, he encouraged me to take it easy.

Ox: You don’t get many days like this. Enjoy it.

I didn’t have school work to do. The chores were mostly done. Could I do more? Yeah. We could always be doing more. But at what point do you say it’s good enough and take some time for yourself?

That’s what Sunday was. I took a nap in the sunlight with the kittens. I made a lot of progress on my project. I actually relaxed instead of giving myself shit for not going to the gym or doing any of the other things that could have gotten done. It was a nice day and the start of my recovery from the day that was Friday.

I finished my “bag of tricks” sheets and got them printed. I even put the pages in my D&D binder. I went through the pictures on my phone and cleaned out all of the memes I’ve downloaded for text message replies since I live my life through memes. I also made a level two character sheet since our characters are most likely going to level up during our next session. I took the spell Inflict Wounds. I may be a cleric but you definitely don’t want to piss my character off. I will end you. XD

That was pretty much all of Sunday. Nice and slowly productive on things that I actually wanted to personally work on. Very much a “me” day and I think I benefited from it.

That brings us to yesterday. Monday. Another workday.

Ox and I met in the morning. I didn’t want to go to work. I was tired. I was sore. My feet hurt still. I didn’t want to do it. At all. ;-;

I trudged off to work, promising Ox that I would drive safely and that I would try to have a good day.

The day went well. Much smoother than Friday. No low blood pressures this time. My RN and I kicked serious ass. We ended up closing the clinic 30 minutes after our last patient’s treatment ended. We’re given an hour to do it, so us closing up 30 minutes “early” put us in the green as far as their calculations for labor go.

My Brain: Hell yeah! Go Team Awesome!

I drove home. I stopped at the gas station since I was running too low on gas to make it to school the next day. I picked up cigarettes for Ox and myself. I even bought a car wash while I was there. My back window was grungy. I had thought to just wash the window then thought… what the hell. Let’s get the whole thing washed.

Yeah. That’s how ok I was feeling. Went to work and can still do stuff like a badass. /flex

I stopped at the house to see Ox for a bit. Monday night is raid night for him so I wasn’t planning on staying long. Jon called while I was there so I talked to him for a bit. We talked about him withdrawing from school and what that would mean. I told him that only he could say what it meant for him. If other people thought it was a failure then they could go fuck themselves because they’re not the ones living his life. Only he could make the choices that were right for him.

I had been starving on the drive home. Seriously, the stirring wheel was looking tasty. While I was in the middle of raiding the fridge for any and all leftovers, I got a call from my FA.

An issue was brought to her attention that she needed to address with me. The nurses were making comments about how I have been coloring at the nurses desk during downtime.

First off… What the hell guys? We’ve been killing it during the days that I work since I’ve been back from surgery. What the fuck? Secondly, if you have an issue with it, why didn’t you feel like you could say something to me personally? It’s not like I’m an unreasonable bitch who can’t be talked to. : /

My FA said her first response to the comments was, “Is she still taking care of the machines when they alarm?”

Nurse: Well, yeah.
FA: Ok.

Essentially, the nurses couldn’t say that I am slacking on my duties or doing anything wrong. In fact, I’m doing everything right. They just don’t like the fact that I’m not “working”. I would like to take a moment that I don’t think it’s both nurses. I think it’s one specifically.

My FA said she understood that coloring right now is a coping mechanism for me. The 19th is almost here. I’ve been waiting for this day. I’ll finally get answers. I’ll finally know the next steps and how my endocrinologist wants to handle my situation. I’ll know if my meds are right. I’ll know how fucked I am for the future. I’ll know what I need to do in regards to school if I have to be hospitalized. I’ll finally know what chaos is in my future and how it’s going to interfere with the peace and calm that I’ve been so hesitant to enjoy.

I know I haven’t written a whole lot about it and maybe I should have delved more into this side of my life. I did mention how I felt like this era of calm wouldn’t last and that I’m about to enter another stormy, uncertain time. I’ve been holding my breath, waiting, because there isn’t anything else for me to do but I hate waiting and I’m not good at it so what can I do other than smoke a million cigarettes to get me through until I know what’s going on?

I told my FA that coloring has been helping me with those feelings. During the downtime at work, if there is any, once all my tasks are done and vitals are caught up and there’s literally nothing to do except wait for treatments to end, I’ve been coloring because my other options are to go outside and smoke or sit and stew inside my own head. It keeps those feelings in check. It gives me a way to wonder through my mind without getting lost or sad or feeling like I have no control over what’s going on.

My Brain: I still have cancer, but you know what, I really think this section would look good with another layer of purple. Let’s do it. It’s ok to have cancer. I can still make pretty things while having cancer. Cancer isn’t the end of my life. Things will be ok. Things are ok. Oh, my alarm is going off. Our first treatment is about to end so let me put this aside for now and go prep for change over.

She understood where I was coming from. She said she was actually glad I had found something to help me be mentally and emotionally ok. She said that since the patients are taken care of she doesn’t care if I color or not. She said she needed me to be ok more than she needed the nurses to be happy. I do good work. If the nurses want to be catty that’s on them. I still answer the alarms. I still chart when it’s supposed to be done. I’m not sitting behind the desk while things need to be taken care of, ignoring my duties so in her mind there isn’t an issue.

She said as a manager, she had an obligation to bring up the topic with me. So, she called. We talked about it. End of story.

I told her I was sorry for causing friction within our team. That wasn’t my intention. Maybe if I get a chance to talk to her again I can ask why the nurse(s) didn’t feel like they could talk to me. Why did this issue have to be a secret conversation with my boss? Why couldn’t we have been adults and talked to each other about an issue?

My FA said during her conversation she told the nurse(s) that we needed to get through the 19th. She thinks I’ll feel better once I have answers. I hope I do. I don’t like not knowing what’s going on with my life. And even when I do finally know what we’re going to be doing, it’s not like I have much of a choice. It’s more like I’m being dictated to.

Dr: This is what you need to do so you don’t die. What do you want to do?

My Brain: Talk about choice paralysis. How am I supposed to make a decision with some many outstanding options? Well… since I’m not really on board with the whole dying thing… I guess lets go with the staying alive thing…

So yeah. I wasn’t expecting to have a conversation like that with my boss, but I’m glad I have her support and I’m glad that she understood me and defended me when other people wanted to assume untrue things.

FA: You don’t complain. You are a quiet person and you keep your personal troubles to yourself. Just because you’re not complaining doesn’t mean you’re ok. Other people need to imagine what it’s like to be in your shoes.

Warm fuzzy feelings. I appreciated my conversation with her and it made everything feel worth it. Staying with the company, moving to Nebraska, all of it. I have an amazing boss. Not everyone can say that and so I’m grateful.

Not a whole lot happened the rest of the night. I ended up being at the house when Mama Ox came home with groceries so I helped carry them inside. I went to the apartment shortly after that. I colored more. I went to bed. Ox came over. There was mind-blowing, amazing sexy time followed by a night of deep, restful sleep.

This morning has been off to a nice start. It’s sunny which helps. I’ve found a few more postings for houses. The new ones I showed Jon are rent to own and they allow pets since he now has a dog and I have the kittens. The properties are a bit further away then I would like, but they’re nice. I sent messages to see about viewing the inside of them. We’ll see where that goes.

Aside from that, I’ve written. Hooray. I need to shower and get ready for school. Ox and I have plans to meet up and do the grocery shopping. I’m looking forward to today and the next two… ish… Not really looking forward to my appointment, but I don’t have to be at work, so there’s that. Maybe I can finish recovering from Friday.

Daily Post 198: D&D Slug

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I woke up on the tired side today. With how productive and full of interaction yesterday was, I’m not really giving myself shit for taking it slow so far.

Yesterday was school, grocery shopping, the gym, and in between all of those things multiple conversations about my brother moving here to Nebraska. A lot of mental work went into figuring out solutions, ironing out priorities, and game planning for the future. Add to that two rounds of sexy time. Not just one, but two after pushing pretty hard at the gym… No wonder I woke up the way I did.

Ox and I talked about our recent bout of sex. I’m totally not complaining. It is different than what I have grown accustomed to over the two years we’ve been in a relationship though. It leaves a part of my self feeling vulnerable. Here is this thing I’ve been desperately wanting, being willing given out of nowhere.

My Brain: This is amazing and exactly what I want. I don’t trust it. >.>

Of course, Brain. Ruin a good thing why don’t you. >.<

My vulnerability led to open discussion and a clearer understanding of our relationship and where we’re at. Which, we’re in a good place if you were wondering.

After waking up this morning, I slowly slugged through the tasks I had. Feed the kittens. Eat breakfast before taking meds. Clean the litter box. Take out the trash. Get the chicken marinating. Run over to the house with laundry and get that started. Log my workout from yesterday.

Not a whole lot of exciting stuff but all things I was able to put a green mark through on my sheet of paper for the day. Go me.

I went into town for counseling. We spent most of our hour together talking about all of the developments with Jon and how yesterday went. We talked about the bill for my surgery and how it won’t be until after my session next week that I find out more about my cancer status. We talked about how D&D went and how the gym is going. Lots of stuff.

There’s been a lot of good, stable things recently. I feel like the past few weeks have been a tentative calm after all of the chaos pre and post-surgery. I believe there will still be some bumps in the future in regards to the iodine treatment. There’s a tension within me. This feeling that things aren’t over and that the calm and peace I feel now won’t last for much longer.

I do think I’m doing better. I do think I’m focusing more on my self and making sure I’m on stable ground for this next phase, and I think that’s what a lot of these past weeks have been. Finding my footing so I can keep going forward to the next hard thing. So while I don’t have a whole lot to talk about in regards to problem-solving my life in counseling, I don’t think I’m at a point where I want to stop going or reduce the number of times we meet in a month. I think I still need to utilize this resource for the time being.

After counseling, I called Ox. We agreed I would go to the apartment and keep plucking away at things, so I did. At the moment, nearly all of my meal prep is done. Just waiting for the chicken taco soup to finish up in the Ninja so I can shred the chicken and divide everything up into containers. I want to finally sweep the bedroom and maybe mop it. I’ve already put dye in my hair so at some point I need to rinse it out.

All of the stuff is packed for D&D tonight, so there’s not much to do in that regard. Just make sure I take the bag out the door with me, which is the true test. XD

Aside from some other minor things, putting the dishes away, switching the wash, typing up the remaining notes, there’s not a whole lot left to today. I’m ok with that. It’s been a quiet day so far. A slow quiet day after a lot of busy excitement.

I’ll keep you posted on how D&D goes. : 3

Daily Post 197: Being Told You Were Right

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Oh, man. Talk about a productive day of evil, mastermind planing.

It started with waking up. Ox wasn’t with me, but I had been prepared for the potential of him not coming over. It was a slow morning. A pre-school morning.

I plucked around on the computer for a bit. I renewed my domain name for my CG website. I haven’t done anything with it since I resigned from Full Sail but I don’t want to let it go either. It was $35 for another two years. Not bad as far as expenses go and with my state refund I wasn’t cutting into the grocery bill.

I also went onto Amazon. I love using green and orange highlighters. I use them for the flashcards I make for school. I use them to mark my progress on cross stitch patterns. Most recently I’ve started using them to mark what I have accomplished on my to-do lists rather than scratching through them with my pen or pencil. Seeing color on the page makes something in my brain happy.

Well… the shitty thing about having a specific color highlighter you want to use is if you run out and need to buy more you typically have to buy a whole pack with a bunch of other colors that are going to collect dust for forever. A quick search on Amazon revealed that I can buy packs of an individual color, other than yellow.

Best. Day. Ever.

I also looked into the whole Amazon Prime thing for students since I’m a student and all. I can use it for six months free. Guess what’s an Amazon Prime item?

Yep. That’s right. My spiffy highlighters of awesomeness. So in two days, I’ll have two 12 packs of happiness tucked away with the rest of my office/computer supplies.

While I was on the site I also ordered a bottle of the leave-in conditioner I like using for my hair. The places here in Nebraska never have it in stock. Is ordering online really destroying “in-store” retail when they never have what I’m looking for?

I decided to splurge a little bit more by buying a box of Pop Corners. I didn’t even know those were a thing until I got a care package in the mail from one of my friends. It was a box full of goodies, mostly high protein stuff for recovery after surgery, but the Pop Corners were a treat. The Sweet Kettle Corn flavor has crack cocaine in it. That’s the only explanation for why they’re so ridiculously good. Since I had gone through the supply from my friend I decided to feed my addiction by seeing what Amazon had to offer.

There was a 28 count box for $15.

Me: Bought!

That item wasn’t a Prime item, but I was ok with waiting.

I did dishes and spent some time with the kittens. By then I didn’t have time to go to the gym before class, which I was ok with. I could go afterward and be fine with my day.

I showered and got ready to leave. I stopped at Walgreens to pick up the refill for my Synthroid. While I was there I ended up talking to my boss on the phone. We talked about how the patient schedule would be changing. It’s nice to know what I’ll be walking into on Friday and Saturday. It was also nice being able to talk to her. Recently I’ve only been able to see her briefly on Fridays.

Class was interesting. We continued the discussion from last Thursday; is it possible for humans to pursue peace or is violence ingrained into our DNA? Is our behavior nature or a product of our culture? Very interesting discussion.

I left class feeling good. Ox was still at work when I called him. We agreed to meet at Hi-Way Diner for lunch. I got a cup of coffee while I waited for him and began typing up my notes. He arrived, petting my head to pull me out of the bubble of solitude I had created for myself with my headphones and music.

Ox: Did I scare you?

Me: No. I don’t think there are many people who would randomly come up and start petting me.

We ordered our food and ate as we talked about the new virus that was discovered in Brazil. More interesting stuff. I didn’t know viruses could replicate, transcribe, or translate DNA. Science is pretty cool.

After eating Ox went to make his car payment while I went to pick up more wet cat food. I haven’t had to buy as much since I’ve been splitting a can between the kittens rather than giving them each a whole can. I still had a few cans left, but it wouldn’t have lasted until next Tuesday so I figured I would get more while I was in the area.

Ox and I met back up at GNC for the energy drinks we like. Sadly they didn’t have any of the Sour Apple Reign for Ox. We got two cases of Bang instead. I carried both of them out to the car. It’s the first time since surgery I’ve carried two at once. The last time I had gone I had to make two trips to the car since I could only lift one case at a time. It sucked.

Not this time though. : D

Ox called me a brat while I did it. I mean… I can understand his viewpoint. Here he is, a macho guy carrying nothing walking next to a chick who’s lugging around two cases worth of energy drinks. This was a victory moment for me though, damnit. I can finally lift normal shit that I took for granted pre-surgery. Let me have my moment!

From GNC we went to Costco. We got gas for the cars. Inside we picked up St. Louis ribs since Papa Ox has been mentioning that he would enjoy having those for dinner one night. I picked up two roasts for future meal prep. We got two containers of cottage cheese; one for the house and one for me.

Ox convinced me to get a bag of dark chocolate covered pretzels. The deal was he had to take the rest of the candy from my care packages. I can’t have all of that chocolate sitting around the apartment. Dark chocolate covered pretzels are a weakness for me. Sooo good. >.<;

While we were walking to check out I noticed a box… a box of Pop Corners. The same box, in fact, that I had just spent $15 dollars on… for only $6.

I couldn’t get my phone out fast enough. XD

Me: Cancel order! Cancel order! Cancel order!

Amazon: Your message has been sent to the seller. Please note that your order may not be canceled.

Me: Fuck my life.

Ox: Well, at least we know for next time.

I put the box of Pop Corners in the cart, hoping that my order would, in fact, be canceled. If not… well… at least I hadn’t paid more than I did.

We checked out. As we were standing next to the cars I got an email notification saying the order was canceled. Woooooo! Even better best day ever!

Ox and I talked for a while, which needs a bit of backstory… as I was leaving the diner, I had gotten a few messages from Jon.

Jon: I called SCC. I spoke to the LPN Director.

Then nothing. Silence. No continuation of his story. No explanation. Just suspense.

My Brain: What the did you talk to her about? What did you ask her? I need details.

I called him and basically said those exact things. That he wasn’t allowed to leave me in suspense like that and to spit it out.

Jon: I thought you were grocery shopping and would talk to me later.

Me: Yeah. That was before you messaged me. I need details so spill it.

Jon: Well, you were right…

So, basically, he called the college I’m going to and talked to the LPN Director. You know… the director I met due to my training at the gym with her husband. The person I spoke with in regards to my cancer diagnosis and seeing what my options with school were. Yeah… that director…

My brother explained who he was and she said she remembered me. Warm fuzzy feelings. : 3

My brother also explained his situation and how he was thinking about moving to Nebraska and wanted to know more about the program and the chances of his credits transferring.

He told me that he had called a handful of schools. Some out in Vegas near Jason. Some in other locations he was thinking about. So far Nebraska seems like the best option for him. I don’t know all of the details from his conversation with the director, but Jon likes the information he got in regards to the college and how the school handles the nursing programs.

That led to a fairly long conversation ending with Jon saying he was going to talk to a few other people and get their perspectives and that we would talk more later. I told him I was proud of him. Not because he was thinking about moving to Nebraska specifically, but because he did research and got more information. He saw that he really does have other options and that some of those options are actually viable.

By making phone calls he showed himself that he’s not stuck in a hopeless situation. It takes effort and courage to call a stranger and spill your soul, admitting that your life currently sucks, and to ask if there’s anything they can do to help.

My Brain: Don’t mind me. I’ll just be over here, being a super proud older sister. >.> /high fives self

So yeah, after shopping at Costco, Ox and I talked pretty extensively about how he felt about the potential for Jon moving here to Nebraska. I wanted to hear his perspective.

Ox’s biggest concern would be if Jon and I ended up moving to Beatrice, which is about a 40-minute drive from the house. Ox and I wouldn’t be able to see each other as much. I would be much closer to school and work. I would be extremely close to my dojo as well. IN some ways it would make the 8 months of school easier. On the other hand, I don’t like the idea of being 40-ish minutes away from dinner or a cigarette or a hug.

Ox had a few other concerns. Never seeing me because I’m spending all my time with my brother. Jon not wanting him over at our residence because he hates Ox on principle… things like that.

They are all valid points. I like to think that I wouldn’t let my love for my brother compromise my relationship with Ox.

Ox and I also talked about potential employment for Jon. He’s a CNA and while he currently works at a hospital in Daytona, he wouldn’t be able to work at a hospital here in Lincoln. The hospitals here have phased out CNAs and LPNs. Jon doesn’t want to work in a long-term care facility…

Ox: Has he thought about working for your company?

That led to another conversation with Jon.

Me: Have you ever thought about being a dialysis technician?

Jon: I mean… I’ve never done it but I’m willing to give it a shot. The clinics here said they couldn’t hire me because of my school schedule.

Me: The clinics here are super understanding when it comes to school. And the company has paid training. They’ll teach you everything you need to know.

So… yeah… that led to another really long conversation. At the end of that one, I told Jon that I would call my boss and talk to her and see what information I could get for him.

I called my boss… again… XD

I explained the situation and how my brother was considering moving here to Nebraska. I explained his work history and how he wasn’t very interested in going back into long-term care. Were there needs in any of our sister clinics?

There are. There are three open positions. With his years of experience as a CNA my FA’s “gut feeling” is that he would be able to get more than base pay. It’s not guaranteed and she didn’t give me a number, but with how much more exposure he has, I would be surprised if he was offered base pay.

Even if he is offered that, it’s more than what he’s currently making.

So long story, long… he’s going to apply and he’s thinking about coming out to see Nebraska during his spring break in school, which would be around March 9th to the 13th.

I want this to work. I want this to work so freaking bad. Jon is going to do a bit more research on his end, but I think he’s finally seeing how much better this situation could legitimately be.

So that was the majority of my afternoon. I went to the gym and biked for 38 minutes. I made it to gear 14. I most likely pushed a bit too much. I went to Walmart afterward and could tell my neck wasn’t happy with me. It didn’t really hurt, but I could tell there were “not happy with you” feelings there.

I got the last bit of groceries needed for my meal prep. I also stocked up on chicken thighs and no-tatoes while I had the money to do so. After that, I went to the apartment and put all of my things away.

I went to the house. One of the pieces of mail was my Cigna paperwork regarding my surgery. I’ve been waiting for this piece of mail to come. I’ve been dreading it; knowing it would appear one day to tell me how financially fucked I am.

My surgery cost $29,942.62. My insurance covered 82% of it. I owe $4,945.88.

Out of nearly $30,000 I only have to pay roughly $5,000.

I guess I really can’t bitch a whole lot. That’s still a lot of money, but the hospital is willing to work with me. I can make payments and not be completely fucked. And compared to what it could have been, that’s really not a lot. I think that’s more than fair. I think 82% makes having insurance worth it. So, not exactly the best of news, but much better than what I was expecting.

We decided to cook the ribs we had bought earlier for dinner. I put them in the InstaPot, showing Mama Ox how easy it was to cook them. Ox and I had mindblowing sexy time while dinner cooked itself. Maybe that’s kind of trashy of me, but if it is, I’m ok with it. I mean… not only did I kickass in school, I also did all my errands, went to the gym, and got my brother to admit that I was right. Fuck yeah, I’m a sexy, productive, bad-ass bitch. Who wouldn’t want this? /flex

We ate dinner and it was super tasty, and that was about it for the night. Papa Ox mentioned that Venus was visible tonight and sure enough you can see it in the west. That’s pretty cool.

Ox got roped into running dungeons on WoW so I decided to come over to the apartment to write and be with the kittens. I might cross-stitch for a bit. Maybe color. Not sure yet. Still sort of in awe of how everything has gone down today.

Maybe this is the Universe apologizing for giving me cancer.

Universe: Hey. I know things have been sort of shitty, so here’s some good stuff to make up for it.

God. I hope this all works out. I really, truly do.

Daily Post 191: Pre-D&D

Standard
Not 100% proof read. My bad.
Didn’t want to be late for D&D <3

The past few days have been eventful and productive.

Monday went well. Work was decent. Nothing overly exciting happened. I used timers on my phone to work in time to color instead of taking as many smoke breaks. It seemed to work well and something I will continue trying to do.

Monday night went well. I wrote and posted. I did dishes. Ox came over once he was at a stopping point with WoW. I cooked us dinner before we started plucking away at our D&D characters. Dinner wasn’t anything fancy. Just some burger patties. I added mushrooms and onions with pepper jack cheese to mine. Tasty and filling.

This is the first foray into character creation that Ox and I have done by ourselves. When I’ve made characters before I’ve always had someone more experienced guiding me through the process. From a psychological aspect, I can make a fairly solid personality and backstory for a character, but figuring out stats and proficiencies, and traits, and spells or abilities and items, and alignment, and, and, and, and…

It can get daunting pretty fast when you look at the entire task rather than breaking it down into smaller, manageable pieces. It didn’t help that with the D&D Beyond website, my class isn’t listed because it’s not a “standard” class. Of course, cat people wouldn’t be standard… bastards…

Around 10 pm I was tired enough to call it quits. Ox stayed up significantly later, until close to 1 am, working on both our characters. Not only did he figure his out, he also went into the “homebrew” section and created a race specifically for my character that we could use with the D&D Beyond system.

That’s what I woke up to Tuesday morning. I sat down at my laptop to begin typing up my notes for my sociology class and got distracted by investigating the D&D pages left open on my browser. I can’t put into words how touched I was. He took the time to create something specifically for me. It was something I didn’t have to worry about figuring out anymore. It was already done. At least for the most part. All of the information was in there. I dinked around with it for a bit and was able to fine-tune things so modifiers showed up in the right spots and such. But a majority of the leg work had already been done and that was an amazing gift.

I spend about 30 minutes absorbed in D&D stuff. Eventually, I began working on my notes. I showered and got ready for class. I packed up my things then headed into town. I stopped at Walgreens for a refill of my Zoloft. There wasn’t a copay this time, so that was another nice surprise.

I went to school. I got there early so I kept typing up my notes. The class wasn’t all that awesome. We mostly talked about how to properly cite sources in APA format. We talked about “success in college”. That was mildly interesting since we delved into studies and statistics and research. It wasn’t just “take my word for it” BS, but rather scientifically verified things.

Interestingly enough, standardized testing isn’t a very good indicator of success in college. I liked seeing that, actually. For a while, I’ve felt that tests aren’t a true measure of a person’s ability. They’re only one aspect of a much more complex situation.

Towards the end, we starting talking about critical thinking skills, which again, was interesting, but overall I felt like I didn’t gain a lot of information or insight from this particular class session.

After class, I went to Hi-Way Diner. I finished up with most of my notes; formatting the text and such. That helped fill the time while I waited for Ox to get there from work. We ate. I looked at my finances. I’m pretty tight on money right now but I think we’ll be ok.

We went to Costco for water since I’ve been going through it like crazy. I’ve been running warm recently. I’ve been leaving the heat off and opening the window in the bedroom at night so it feels cool enough to let me sleep. I haven’t had a fever, so I have that going in my favor.

I didn’t have a lot of energy for most of Tuesday. Staying up late was the main reason I think. Eating lunch didn’t help give me energy, so once we were done with Costco I was pretty much done with everything. All I wanted was to go home and take a nap.

Ox stopped at the gas station near home and got me a small carton of heavy cream since I needed that for one of my meals. He carried the water into the apartment for me, too, because he’s awesome like that. Once he left I crawled under my weighted blanket and slept for roughly three hours. I woke up feeling better and able to continue plucking away at the to-do I had created in the morning.

I cooked both my meals. I tried making the creamy chicken pasta again. Instead of zoodles, I used cauliflower rice. It’s good, but still a little on the bland side. I’m not sure what would help spice it up. Maybe a tablespoon of Italian seasoning or something along those lines. The recipe has a very soft, subtle flavor and I like my food to be bolder.

I went over to the house around 5:30. Ox and I kept working on our D&D characters. We had dinner with his parents. Steaks with side-salad. No complaints.

I think it was around 9:30 or 10 that we wrapped things up with the characters. I emailed our sheets to the DM so he could have them for Wednesday evening. Ox and I trekked back to the apartment and went to bed together.

He woke up this morning for work. I stayed in bed, once again foregoing the 5:30 am class I had thought I was interested in.

I started my day around 7:30. I had breakfast then went to sit down at my laptop only to realize I had left my backpack at the house. That had me trudging out into the snow that wasn’t supposed to have been falling, to the car, driving to the house, picking up my backpack as Papa Ox snickered at me, driving back to the apartment, to finally begin the day as I had intended. Sans breakfast though since I had foolishly heated up a container of chicken then left it unattended with the kittens… Yeah… totally didn’t get to eat half of my breakfast because of that.

I went through my “in” pile since that’s been building up. I paid all of the medical bills I’ve received so far using my HSA account. That thing has been a life saver. I don’t know what I would be doing without it since I’ve paid almost 1k in medical expenses so far.

I put the laundry away since I had washed and dried it last night while I was at the house. I cleaned the litter box. I washed dishes. I typed up the last bit of my notes, so I’m caught up in that regard. I printed out the D&D sheets for Ox and I to use tonight. That had me fighting with the printer for a while and I still didn’t get it 100% right. I really do dislike this printer. >.<; It should not have taken half the effort it did to print those sheets.

I eventually showered and got dressed. I packed for the gym so I could bike after I was done at school. I drove into town. The roads weren’t bad, but they weren’t perfect either. The snow was starting to stick and certain spots were slick. There was an accident right where I needed to turn to get into the college. That had me running a little late, but at least it looked like a fender bender rather than anything super bad.

Counseling went well. We talked pretty extensively about my past week and my feelings regarding it. I talked about how I’ve been productive and writing more, using my to-do lists as a way to keep myself on track and to remember everything I was able to get accomplished.

We talked about how I felt like at least part of it was coming from the medications. Part of the productivity might be the Synthroid. Having energy after work is unheard of for me, not that I’m necessarily complaining. Just noting that it’s not “normal” for me. The energy hasn’t been interfering with my sleep. I’m able to go to bed at decent times and sleep deeply enough to feel resting, so there’s that. More energy, but not so much more that it’s fucking with my life.

I mentioned how I think sleeping well is factoring into my new found “ok” feeling. I get restorative deep sleep and I think the weighted blanket has something to do with that. I also think having slower, less crazy days factors into that. Taking time for self-care is also affecting things I believe.

The Zoloft may be keeping my depression in check, which I said was a bit disheartening, however, knowing how hard last winter was for me, I’m not ready to try discontinuing it. Maybe it’s the crutch I need while I rebuild all of the habits that help me be ok on my own.

I mentioned how I was going to wait until the weather started warming up and the days were sunnier; most likely towards the end of March. Spring-ish. That’s when I want to see about backing off of the Zoloft. Right now I would rather keep doing well and feeling well about my days than going back to feeling sad and tired all the time.

We talked about my Wellness Assessment at the gym and my workout on Sunday. We talked about my feelings regarding my new baseline and my plans in regards to the gym. I mentioned how at first I had put on my schedule to go to classes early in the morning, but at the moment that wasn’t working for me. I enjoy my mornings at the apartment too much to want to give them up. I like being about to have a slow start to the morning, enjoying my breakfast, doing chores, making my to-do list, actually sleeping until I’m ready to wake up…

I don’t want to give that up just to take a class at 5:30 in the morning that I’m physically not able to complete. I know I can’t do an hour’s worth of cardio yet. I’m not recovered enough for that. It seems to be working better to go to the gym on my own and to do what I want for as long as I want and to be happy and content with that.

We also talked about the upcoming D&D meet this evening, how Ox and facilitated a lot of it, and how in general, he and I are doing really well. We’ve been doing more things together. Intentionally interacting rather than mutually ignoring each other while we’re in the room together. Not that I mind moments like that. I enjoy cross-stitching next to him on the bed while he plays WoW. Honestly, I do. But if that’s the only interaction we have, it can lead to feeling disconnected.

By doing more things together, I can enjoy the times we’re together in solitude and I can enjoy my actual alone time because I have these other moments of connectedness. It’s all about balance and I think we’re finding a better one for us now that things are settling down.

So yeah. Counseling was a good session. We’re going to continue to monitor how the coming week goes and check back in, a bit more indepth, about my feelings regarding the medication issues.

After counseling, Ox sent me a picture of my car, showing that he was in the school parking lot. I went out and had a cigarette with him. I still had to figure out my references for the report assignment in my class, so I didn’t want to leave campus yet. I did want to take advantage of his surprise visit though and see him for a few minutes while I could.

It was a nice transition from counseling to school tasks. I got a hug which almost always makes things better.

He drove me back up to the front of the school so I didn’t have to track back through the snow to get there. I set up camp in one of the booths across from the cafeteria and plucked away at finding decent sources for my paper. I found 7 that I’m thinking about using. I only have to turn in four for the assignment tomorrow. Every extra source I use is extra points. I would rather have too many sources and not use all of them then realize I don’t have enough information to answer all of the questions in the paper.

So yeah, that took about two hours to shift through. I filled out the sheet with all of my reference information that’s’ due for class tomorrow. I’m content with the progress I made in the realm of school for today, so I’m done with that area of my life for the moment.

I went to the gym again. I biked for 30 minutes this time. Got to 5.64 miles and made it to gear six, which is one higher than Sunday. I started to feel my incision, which is where I decided to back off, do a bit of a cool down, then call it quits for today.

I did better than last time, so it was a good workout in my book. I actually worked up a sweat this time. It felt good. I’m happy with my effort.

And now I’m back at the apartment, writing, before taking another shower and heading out to D&D like the nerd I am. I’m looking forward to it. I think we’re all going to be chipping in for pizza. I hope it’s a good night. I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow. : 3

Daily Post 190: That Old Feeling

Standard

So I’m almost caught up on writing, and this is where I’m going to be able to write much more in-depth about what has been doing on during my weeks. Why? Because I have pages in my notebook covered in green highlighter marks from all of the stuff I’ve been able to accomplish. Go me. : D

I left off with having a good day at work last Monday and hoping that’s how my days would continue to go as my incision healed more.

Tuesday was a school day. Before I made it to school I did a bunch of chores around the apartment. I went to Walmart to buy a handheld vacuum because sweeping up cat litter on hardwood floors sucks. I went and got gas for the car. I stopped at Starbucks for a breakfast sandwich since I had time to do that. I still made it to school early enough to cross-stitch a bit.

That’s something I’ve been doing recently. I’ve been carrying my projects with me so I have something to do in the odd bits of time that I find myself waiting around. Coloring mandalas is another thing I’ve been doing. I keep my book, color pencils, and sharpener in the same bag as my cross-stitch project and I tote it around with me like a slightly crazy lady. I’m ok with it.

School was good. I got to talk to my instructor about what happened the previous Thursday. That whole being told class was canceled only to be marked absent because class was, in fact, not canceled…

Before class had a chance to start, the woman who had told me to go home came in and explained she had gotten the room wrong. I got her contact information and gave it to my instructor. I was given credit for the day I missed along with all of the handouts I missed from the library. Overall I didn’t miss much. Just the tour. No real class content to worry about. I didn’t withdraw from the class. My instructor was super understanding and laughed with me when I said I had figured the start of the semester would be rough due to the surgery. I hadn’t expected it to be THIS rough. XD

So everything is as it should be in the realm of school.

I made an appointment to get my taxes done. That was scheduled for Wednesday evening.

I called Jon about halfway through the day almost in tears. I told him that nothing was wrong. Honestly. Everything was going well and that’s what bothered me. I hadn’t felt this ok, this productive, this able to do things, in so long that I didn’t know how to feel about feeling the way I felt.

It felt like how I used to be pre-mom-death. Where I could think about going out and running errands and actually do those things and feel good about it and not be exhausted from it. We talked about my wariness over this new “old” feeling.

That evening, Ox and I met a couple at the Hi-Way Diner. The wife had posted about wanting to start a D&D group. Ox replied and chatted with her a bit and so there we were Tuesday evening, meeting to see what could work and if we all even got along well enough to want to play a campaign together.

It was a really nice evening and I’m glad we met with them. The game plan is to start playing next Wednesday afternoon. I’m looking forward to it. Ox and I still need to make our characters but that’s one of the things on tonight’s to-do list. :3

Eventually, the day came to a close. By the end of it I had a page full of completed tasks with a page already made for the next day.

Wednesday morning started on the low side emotionally speaking, but after I got up and started moving around things turned around. I completed my meal prep. I packed clothes for the gym since I had a Wellness Assessment schedule at the YMCA after my counseling session. After some more chores, I headed into town.

We talked pretty extensively about my feelings regarding my new productivity during counseling. We also talked about Mama Ox and my relationship with her for a while. Though I care about Mama Ox deeply, I know I keep her at arm’s length emotionally. I don’t want to be super close to her. I don’t want her to be my confidant. I don’t want her to replace mom and there are certain “mom things” that I’m not ok with her doing or being for me. My counselor thinks it’s good that I have that level of awareness about myself and my emotions.

After counseling, I went to the gym. I most likely pushed way too hard. I did step-ups for three minutes. By the end of the first minute, I was winded. By the end of the second minute, my chest was getting tight around my incision. By the end of three minutes, I realized that intense cardio was most likely a bad idea and that I should have stopped sooner.

I did 25 pushups. Again, most likely not my smartest idea of the day. The last 10 weren’t pretty. And when I mean they weren’t pretty, I mean they were probably the saddest pushups you’ve ever seen ever.

The crunches didn’t bother me as much. Maybe there were endorphins involved at that point. Who knows?

The trainer’s advice was to basically take things slow and low. If I lift weights don’t do anything heavy. If I do cardio, don’t push too much. He didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know, but we talked about some things that I could do and how I could slowly eek the intensity up as I felt comfortable with it. The assessment gave me a baseline for my numbers. It also let me know where I was endurance wise which is sad. My endurance is Level: Sad at the moment.

I ended up mailing the cross-stitch I made for Allison’s daughter to her. I donated stuff to Goodwill. I stopped at Walmart again. This time for windshield washer fluid. I made it to my tax appointment. Ox drove us since I don’t like getting into the parking lot. I’m getting close to 2k back this year. That sounds like a lot until you take away the $700 I owe Allison for covering my surgery deposit. I also have to use $250 to renew my CCHT license for work. That will be reimbursed but I still have to pay for it upfront. I also wanted to get the car looked at and tuned up while I have the finances to do it.

So yeah… A lot of my money is already spoken for. That’s Life I guess. I should have known better than to think I could actually pay my car off with my tax return. : /

Thursday. Another school day. The morning started with my morning routine. Breakfast. Meds. Coffee. Random chores. School prep. I stopped at Walmart for conditioner… I’m starting to see a trend in my writing…

School went well. I went to GNC and Office Max after school to kill some time before meeting Ox for lunch. We’ve been going to the Hi-Way Diner a lot. I’m enjoying the food. There’s just something about their Steak Philly omelet that warms a part of my soul.

We ended up going home after after eating. More chores. Cross-stitching, then sleep for work the next day.

Friday. A workday. The morning started off well. I paid bills when I went on my morning break. I worked with my FA that day so it was a pretty smooth day. I completed all of my assigned computer training. That was the big “work” accomplishment for the day.

After work I went to Walmart…. again… but this time it was for my rent check and that was it. I couldn’t get that until I got paid so yeah… that’s my defense and I’m sticking to it. I don’t need Walmart intervention. YOU need Walmart intervention. >.>

After making sure I could pay rent and not get evicted, I came back to the apartment. Ox had the kids but he came over for a little bit. He helped me clip Saber’s nails and replaced one of the light bulbs in the kitchen for me. Yay for having life hostages who do things for you.

I read the second chapter for my Sociology class. I finished coloring a mandala page I had started a few days back. It was fun. I enjoyed spending the time working on it and I like how it came out for the most part. I would do things a little differently if I could, but since I can’t, I’m ok with it. I’ll make better choices on the ones I do in the future.

It was weird having energy after working all day. I got a lot done after work, including going out into public and interacting with people. That was pretty unheard of pre-surgery.

Saturday was another good day. Work went well. I got to cannulate a new fistula and it was perfect. So good. And yes I know that sounds weird, but when you’re in the dialysis field or any sort of profession where you have to put a needle in someone’s vein you can’t help but swoon a little when you get an amazing stick. It totally made my day to have such a clean and perfect stick on a new fistula that is maturing exactly as it should be. Sooooo good.

After work, I came home and did more chores. I took my chapter 2 test and got a 100 on it. I figured out what classes at the gym I could make before school and counseling. I meal planned for the coming week and made a grocery list. I replied to messages. I cross-stitched. All sorts of stuff got done with the knowledge that Sunday was a day off. Not only a day off but also forecast to be 60 degrees and sunny.

Sunday. Omg. All of the green marks on my page. Morning routine. Check. Breakfast at the house with the family. Check. Run errands. Check. Write and post. Check. Work on school stuff. Cross-stitch. Meal prep. Finish coloring a section on my new mandala. Call in a refill for my Zoloft. Go to the gym and workout. Color a little with Lil’ Ox. Have dinner with the family.

All checks.

I even tried a new recipe from the cookbook my older brother and sister-in-law got me for Christmas. Keto Ninja Foodi Cookbook. It has a lot of interesting ideas. I made a creamy chicken pasta with it. I think it turned out well even though I didn’t have enough heavy cream for it and used too much chicken broth. I’m going to try making it again, correctly this time, and see if it turns out even better.

So yeah… Sunday was pretty amazing. I got so much done. I enjoyed the sunlight so much. I wore shorts and flip-flops. I biked for 20 minutes while I was at the gym. I didn’t break any speed records and the highest gear I made it to was 5. I normally start at 10. So much sad still, but hey, I did it. I went there. I did something. Fuck yeah. Take that, Cancer. Fuck you, you fucking son of a bitch. I’m a badass.

And so with that, I’m caught up to today. I’ll save that for another writing, though.

I’ve been so much more productive this past week. I’ve felt better. More me. More with it. More like the me I kept looking for but was never able to find. I don’t know where this change is stemming from.

Is it because I no longer have a lump of cancer in my throat? Is it the Zoloft? Is it the high-ish dosage of Synthroid I’m on? Is it the week off of work that I had? Is it all the self-care stuff I’ve been doing?

I know it’s not a change in my perspective. I haven’t had a revelation. No puzzle piece has clicked into place. So all of these feelings and energy and productivity are coming from something else. I wish I knew what it was. I wish I could say it’s me, but I feel like if it’s from the medication then it’s not truly me. It’s like I’m faking it; cheating it.

On the flip side, it’s really nice to not be tired and sad all the time. It’s nice to not feel like crying at the thought of having to go out to the store; to not be overwhelmed by it because it’s such an impossibly large task.

I’m still cautious of this feeling, but I’m allowing myself to ride the tide of ok-ness for as long as it lasts. I want my days to continue to be full of green marks from all the things I was able to do. I like these feelings. I like feeling like me.