The Butterfly is Released

On Monday morning, April 28th I checked into the hospital.  Dr. S was running ahead of schedule so they took me back shortly after 10am.  I laid down, told someone I was scared (because I was) and they told me everything would be fine.  The anesthesiologist came in and introduced himself, asked me a bunch of questions and then started the line in my left arm.  He gave me something to relax me and then it all started.  The oxygen mask was put on my face and out I went.

I woke up nearly three hours later in excruciating pain.   I heard, "she woke up too fast."  And "the i.v. line was malfunctioning."  I was crying, trying to tell them how much pain I was in while they struggled with my I.V.  They took it out of my elbow and tried to put it in my hand.  They didn't work too well.  Then they put it in the other hand and that worked better.  I was still crying, ow, ow, ow, ow.    They finally were able to give me pain meds and anti-nausea meds and I started to feel a little better.   When they wheeled me away to go up to my room, they took me by the cafeteria and I almost lost my cookies from the smells.  UGH!!!

Then I was moved into my room where I was hooked up to a saline i.v.  My voice wasn't too bad but I was in good amount of pain still.  I just laid there mostly, people came to see me, I had flowers delivered.  They tried to get me to eat and it was a liquid diet.  It was crap and I sent it all back.  My throat was in SO much pain, the inside of my throat from the tube, I imagine.  I could barely swallow water it hurt so bad.   They kept giving me pain meds (tylenol with codeine and dillaudid) and I was just laying there.

I was so glad when everyone had to leave.  I watched Sex and the City on TBS and tried to sleep. The night nurse was very sweet and she would pop in and take my vitals, ask me about pain, etc.  I didn't sleep much and by morning I was over it all.  Dr. S came to see me and asked how I was.  He told me he didn't think the cancer had spread and that everything looked good.  Then his assistant came in and admitted they had problems in the recovery room.  Then she said I could go home.  My calcium was a little low but not enough for them to give me calcium or to keep me any longer.  One of my favorite coworkers called and I burst into tears just because I was so over it all.

Dr. M never came to see me, which was fine.  I felt and looked so crappy I would have been embarassed if he had come, anyway.  

I was so happy to get home but still in so much pain!!  I cried a lot.  I didn't have any help.  But I did sleep.  Glorious sleep!

A Girl Needs a Gun These Days

Rattlesnakes

jodie wears a hat although it hasn't rained for six days
she says a girl needs a gun these days
hey, on account of those rattlesnakes
on account of those rattlesnakes

she looks like eve marie saint
in on the waterfront
she reads simone de beauvoir
in her american circumstance

she's less than sure if her heart
has come to stay in san jose
and her neverborn child haunts her now
as she speeds down the freeway


as she tries her luck with the traffic police
out of boredom more than spite
she never finds no trouble, she tries too hard
she's oblivious despite herself

she looks like eve marie saint
in on the waterfront, she says
all she needs is therapy
all you need is love is all you need

jodie never sleeps 'cause there are always needles in the hay
she says a girl needs a gun these days
hey, on account of the rattlesnakes
hey, on account of the rattlesnakes

she looks like eve marie saint
in on the waterfront
she reads simone de beauvoir
in her american circumstance

her heart's like crazy paving
upside down and back to front, she says
ooh, it's so hard to love when
love was your great disappointment


I had my thyroidectomy on Monday, April 28th.  I've been home since Tuesday morning.  It has been an experience, to say the least.  This song, "Rattlesnakes" is one of my favorites ever.  It was brought to me by Ms. Tori  Amos who covered it on her 2001 album "Strange Little Girls."  If I could sing right now, this is what I would sing.  I have currently  lost all upper ranges of my voice but I have faith I will get them back.

I will write out my entire thyroidectomy story later.

Depression Settling In

Depression has really settled in; my shrink being in Australia until after I
go back to work has left me completely fucked. I'm not too happy with her
at the moment; she didn't even give me the name of an alternate person to
talk to.

I've read so much. I've read medical textbooks about thyroid cancer, other
books about coping emotionally, tons of stuff on the net, etc. I'm all
researched out I think. Dr. M and I have not had a conversation
about what will happen after the surgery. I think it all hinges on what
they find so he doesn't know yet. He is supposed to see me when I am in
the hospital, I don't know when or what will be discussed. This is part of
the problem with what to expect when I wake up. If I have to have a neck
dissection (because of the lymph nodes) I may not be able to lift my arms
above my head ever again and may have shoulder pain the rest of my life. I
do weight training, I love it, and one of my favorite moves involves my arms
way, way, over my head. Nevermind I won't be able to reach up to shelves,
hold my kid up if I ever have one, etc. But I won't know until I wake up
if this happens.  I'm really, really, really struggling with this aspect.

I am something of a control freak. Intellectually, I know we aren't as in
control of what happens to us as it seems. But I still think that I am in
control, so I am struggling so hard with this uncertainty and realizing
that I have no control over what happens on Monday. Whatever is in my neck
is already there right at this moment. I know going into this depressed is
not good for my recovery. I'm trying to pull myself out, I watched Beavis
and Butthead earlier and it didn't help.

I'm also totally overwhelmed.

I'm trying to create a communications plan so everyone that wants to be
informed, is informed. But then there are complications like this person
can't come see me at the same time as this person because they hate each
other and can the baby come into the hospital too or is it bad for her?
Um, why don't YOU call the hospital and find out?!   No one is stepping up to
help me basically and it is probably my own fault for acting like I don't
want help and that I can handle it. Well, I can't.   At the same time,
I detest dependence.  I don't want to call someone and tell them I need
help cleaning my apartment in preperation for when I come home because I am
too depressed to do it myself.  This is one of those few times where I wish
I was in a relationship. I've read so many stories of cancer survivorship
and nearly every single one details the neverending support of the spouse,
who kept the house clean, cooked the food, paid the bills, blah, blah,
blah. What about the single people?  Who helps us?

What Actually Happened at the Pre-Op

Some of you might find knowing what actually happened at my pre-op visit to be of use, so here is a recap of what I did, who I saw, and what we talked about.

First, I saw an account person in the actual clinic area who verified my insurance.

I had my blood drawn for a CBC count only.

Then I walked to the hospital and talked to the patient account rep, who basically pre-admitted me to the hospital.  She verified my demographic information: where I work, marital status, race, language, etc.  She had my bracelets and a bunch of paperwork in a folder, which she gave to me to give to the nurse who I talked to next.

I'm not sure if this woman was THE nurse or her assistant but she asked me about health history, past surgeries, my diet, any religious or cultural beliefs, what to bring and what to leave at home, and told me where to go and what is going to happen on Monday.  I will see the anesthesiologist and Dr. S before they take me in.

Time for the Pre-Op Meltdown

I am home now from my pre-op and having another mental breakdown.

I sat there for 15 minutes waiting for my surgeon's clerical person to bring out my paperwork and while I was sitting there, I watched every single sick, disabled, old, 300 lb person walk by. It was depressing and really made me mad. How the HELL can I have cancer?? I have worked my ASS off to get healthy again after never being healthy in my life and now I am really ill? How the fuck did that work out? That's what is really getting to me. I have done all of the right things and I have cancer. I know it wasn't for not, I know I had to lose weight and still need to lose more but it is like I am being
punished for what I did in the past. Really? REALLY? I don't drink , I don't smoke, have
never done drugs, have had two sexual partners and now I have cancer and get to be poked
and tortured? Congratulations on all of your good decisions, you are FUCKED!

I don't want to do this. I'm to the point where I don't even believe that I have cancer. I think they are wrong. Dr. M is wrong, Dr. S is wrong, the pathologist is wrong. How can I be 28 years old, healthy and HAVE MOTHERFUCKING CANCER??!!

Last night/this morning I had my first nightmare since this whole mess started and it was obviously related. I was in the hospital and it was being surrounded by bad guys, like robbers or something, but they were all dressed as firemen. There was a doctor with me (woman, blonde) and we hid. It started to look like we were in the clear; I was trying to get out and this guy in a red shirt was helping me. It turned out he was one of the bad guys and pointed a gun at me, but he didn't shoot. He kept pointing it at me and I was running and I kept bracing for him to shoot me but it didn't happen, I just kept running and expecting and finally I made myself wake up.

Attack of the FMLA Paperwork!

So I have just gotten a look at the paperwork required for my medical leave. I immediately started to feel sick when I looked at it. There are all of these return to work certifications, work leave certifications, blah, blah blah. I know they have to do it because of the laws but my first reaction was to vomit on my desk when I looked at all of it.

Sometimes I wonder if I am delusional and I made all of this up for attention. It seems so unreal.

I continue to exist in my little work bubble. No one in my office is saying much of anything to me. It sucks. I am sure I am giving off the "get the hell away from me" attitude, though I am trying to be normal. It's not going very well, obviously. Maybe they don't want to catch my bad luck? I can't say I blame them. They just want me out of here, that much is obvious.

I got a few things done today, which is good. I need to button this all up by Wednesday. I'm going to cry.

So today I am: sad, anxious, lonely, worried, scared. Somewhere in there I am hopeful and optimistic too, but it isn't shining through too much today.

Perspective

So I have been able to stop thinking about myself the last few days, as a member of my family was in a bad accident. That's two things this month so I am now waiting for the third. I am superstitious! No one has died but it isn't good.

I have accepted an offer by my boss to go on leave early, so I am only working three days this week. I really want to clean up my apartment nice so that it is really clean and easy for me to get stuff when I come home.

I'm still reading a lot and having random freak-outs about my mortality. I had three panic attacks last week but they have stopped since the other thing has happened.

My sleep continues to be disrupted. The only thing that has helped me is to fantasize about my endocrinologist. It is not upsetting and helps me disconnect from the ugly realities. Plus orgasms are great stress relief and they always make me sleepy. I know my fantasies about him have no basis in reality. I think I am making it up as a distraction as well.

I am incredibly lonely. Many of the survivor stories I have read refer to a spouse and how wonderful he/she was through the whole thing. I don't even have a boyfriend or a f*ck buddy to rely on, let alone a spouse! I have never had a problem sleeping alone and I am not one of those women that have to be with someone. But it is so hard now, my body has malfunctioned on me and I feel so incredibly alone and isolated. I haven't had any contact with a man in over three years, haven't been on a date in five years. I'm pretty; it's not that I am ugly but I think I have emotionally walled myself off a little too much. I have what I have seen referred to as a "highly sensitive personality" and I have worked very hard to toughen myself up over the years but there is a difference between toughening yourself up and walling off yourself. I chose the wall. It's hard work keeping that thing up so I have basically put away my bricks and mortar for now. If the thing crumbles, who cares.