I haven't posted since the surgery update and I'm sorry for that. But I have a total excuse. Surgery went well and actually the pain isn't too bad at all. I now have a very pretty cast, all doodled up from my daughter.
But then the fun started. To make a long story short...I fell on my second day at my new job and now have a sprained left ankle...3rd degree too! So, needless to say, I'm in a wheelchair with one leg in a cast one in a splint. It's a possibility that I will have to have surgery on the newly injured leg after a bit, but we'll see...so, here's the pics, oh what fun!
This one is my left...look how pretty and swollen and black and blue! The bruising is now moving to the right side of the foot and even up my leg! This actually hurts more than the damn surgery one!
And here's my pretty cast! My lovely daughter is having a blast, it's her own personal coloring pad!
Well, Thursday at the ass crack of dawn I will be going in for surgery to fix this. Although I'm looking forward to finally getting this fixed, I'm also a little nervous. See, last time I had surgery was for a gall bladder removal and it was surprisingly easy because I had people to take care of me...this time, not so much. I have a wonderful friend taking me to the surgical center and sitting and waiting, then bringing me home. She will also sit with me until Sean gets home, but you see Friday I will be all alone. Then I start work on Monday. I just hope I'm feeling well enough to go through some stupid NEO training, but am thankful that it is just that and not licensing that I need.
Kenna is worried about me, I think. She keeps asking when my surgery is, will it hurt, when will I be home, etc...But these questions may be more for her to see when and for how long she'll be at Day Care.
I'm trying to get the house spotless clean because with a cast on for 6-8 weeks I know it won't get a good scrubbing until I can move around better. I also got my hair cut and got groceries today. Tomorrow is homework and pedicure day!
This is how I'm feeling about the surgery. A boot versus a toe shoe. Thank you Mom on a Wire for letting me steal this pic...it's gorgeous!
You know, my little girl...excuse me, my BIG girl started school. She actually started on Monday and she did wonderfully. As did I! I didn't even cry, I did tear up a smidgen, but that was it. Her teacher is wonderful and her class is actually pretty small for being a huge ass city; there's only 16 others in her class. So, there's not much really to post, but I will share a digital page I did for her first day of school.
Oh, and I have a job! I start on Monday the 10th for a wonderful company in town! I'm making over $13/hr (which is
good since I don't have a degree yet). I also get to get licensed in insurance too! I'm excited! My ankle surgery is scheduled for Thursday the 6th also..
Excuse all the digi pages, I'm totaly into digital scrapbooking right now and wanted to share my newest ones!
I need to vent. I need to scream. I also need to cry. To be honest, I've already done those three today, but it's not all out, so you poor Vox'ers have to listen now!
My ongoing shit with my ankle...is just that; SHIT! No insurance, got insurance and won't cover it...is the jist, now I have to pay for a surgery out of pocket. Now, luckily this is outpatient so I won't have hospital bills and all that crap, but still. I need to come up with 50% before the surgery and the rest within 30 to 90 days (depending on which bill). So, yeah, I've got to pay $2000 before next week!
This is what sucks ass, we're too "rich" for help but too "poor" to acutally be able to have a few grand laying around. Gotta love the US medical and insurance system!
Ah, today is one of those days that I dread; that all parents who lose a child dread...the anniversary of death/birthday/angelversary. My son, Jackson William (JW), would be 3 today if he were born in my arms and not right to heaven.
This day used to suck; me spending all day in bed, me spending all day crying, and me thinking all day of JW. But you know, it doesn't hurt as much anymore. I still miss him and it still is a sad day, but it's not as raw anymore. I know he's with me, I know he's with his sister and it's easier.
Please send up a little prayer for my son, today on his 3rd birthday.
I feel bad for whining...I do enough of it really and I have so much to be thankful for, but I'm past the one piece of straw, I'm now going on a bale of frickin' hay!
Lemme get you up to speed. My ankle has been hurting to 2 1/2 years now. Stupidly enough, I did it while squatting down to go pee in the toilet. This god awful pop and searing pain made me forget that I had to pee and the swelling was immediate. I didn't have insurance for many years so I never did anything with it, the ankle that is. I lived with the pain and swelling; my husband lived with massaging my ankle almost nightly as I moaned through the pain. I finally got insurance and decided I would tell my family practitioner about the pain that wouldn't go away. He, of course, bitched at me because I took almost a year to tell him about the issue.
So, let's fast forward. I saw a specialist who is apparently on crack; we'll call him Dr. Crack. Sadly, this dude is the orthopedic doc for lots of schools in this area and a pro sports team. I thought for sure he'd know what to do with me. Instead, he sends me for an MRI (which of course shows nothing) and shoots me up with cortisone in the ankle. One week later, I was still semi-swollen and in severe pain. So, Dr. Crack decides to change my ankle brace into one that I can move around in. Then proceeds to tell me it's my back. This is the part that I'm positive he's saving the good drugs for himself. I had to have looked at him like he had four heads, one of which was spouting green goo from everywhere. Oh and I got another shot of cortisone (which, btw, has numbed three and 1/2 of my toes for 1 wk now, but made the ankle pain worse!) and a pat on the back.
I walked out of Dr. Cracks' office pissed off, crying and in more pain than I was in BEFORE I went to get fixed. I decided at that moment to see another doc for a 2nd opinion. I got in quickly to a new place. After driving all over my city I finally get to the new place, fill out the eight pounds of new patient paperwork and sat for about 30 minutes for my name to be called from the doorway. Lo and behold my name was called and I quickly gathered myself, child and purse and hobbled to the lady who called for me. She won't even look at me in the eye and proceeds to tell me the doctor won't see me today. We’ll call this doc, Dr. Dickhead. Something about my films not being there...blah blah blah. Let the cursing begin! I'm fairly certain after hearing what came out of my mouth; most of the patients in the waiting room will have to go to confessional or their cardiologists. I’m also fairly certain that I’m not allowed back into that office again.
That was the straw, right then. I’m pissed, I’m livid, I’m in pain and no one listens to what the problem is. Thankfully I called my family practitioner and he has hooked me up with another doctor. I’ll see him this week, the day my insurance expires. I’m ready to be listened to and taken seriously. Hopefully we can call this doctor, Dr. Savior! I sure need him to be, my ankle looks worse than ever and I'm pretty much crying each night...oh what fun!
I have a friend. Yes, I, have a friend. Anyway...we've been dear friends since high school. Poor girl was "the new girl" shortly after I carried that horrific name as well. I knew where she was coming from, I knew we would become friends and we did! We did some of the usual fun stuff together; going to a nearby town to go shopping, draggin' Main, jammin' to music in her old car (and I say old in a nice way, not old like beat up, but old like almost antique, it rocked!), getting way too shit faced during one New Years (we were underage). After high school, we were still friends. We did some of the usual fun college stuff together too; living together for a bit, working together at the grocery store and I'm sure we drank too!
Along the way we grew up and parted ways, all my fault. I suck at keeping phone numbers. She would track me down and we'd gab. I'd hang up smiling wondering why the hell I misplaced her number and reminding myself that I needed to call more often.
After a bit she moved to Oklahoma, I was married had a few angel babies and finally Kenna came. She too got preggers and had TWINS 2 1/2-ish years ago. It was amazing to me that she'd do the whole pregnancy thing, I forgot to add that she only has one kidney and has had all kinds of health issues. But here she was, pregnant with a boy and a girl. I saw them a few times and thought to myself only Melissa would have two gorgeous curly headed babies. Ashton and Zeaui; A to Z; Alpha to Omega; beginning to end.
In July I got a few calls from her and her mother. I was worried because they left messages on my cell, I never turn the damn thing on and when I finally did one day I had 3 or 4 messages where I could tell they tried to be calm. It's never a good thing when your friends MOTHER calls you, KWIM?
I thought maybe she's sick, maybe a baby is sick, but I'm sure all is well. I called her back ASAP. All wasn't well. Zeaui had passed away on July 3rd. My heart sank, I couldn't speak, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't NOT cry. I didn't even talk to her while on the phone. I said something stupid and listened to her for a few moments then told her I'd call her later 'cause I had to go. I couldn't talk to my friend.
This is where my pain comes in...I didn't know what to say to her. You may think that's no big deal, but if I can't come up with something to say who the fuck can? I'v been through losses of babies; no I didn't know any of my babies for 2 1/2 years, that was the difference. I couldn't say it would be ok; it won't. I couldn't say I understood; I don't entirely. I couldn't say ANYTHING. Do you know what type of pain that entails? I've been the one that she would come to, during high school and early college, and I like to think that I helped her then. I like to think that I'm good at letting someone talk and maybe throwing out a few words of wisdom; this time there were none.
I called Vette and bawled...sobbed...hiccupped...I called Mom and bawled...sobbed...hiccupped...I called Sis and bawled...sobbed...hiccupped. I didn't sleep for a few days and was nauseated. I finally emailed her exactly what I was feeling, making me feel better but hoping it would make her feel better too, knowing she's not alone!
Please, please say a little prayer for her, her husband and her son. Let her know she's not alone, that people WILL remember Zeaui and smile when we see a picture of her or hear stories about her. Please let her know that people say stupid things (even friends). And please let her know that it won't be OK, but it will get better, eventually.
Well, there was a road trip, but it's done and I'm still recovering. It was my sister and I, driving up to Chicago for a huge scrapbook trade show. What fun! We've never been on a road trip together before and I have to say, we had a blast and we NEEDED that time together!
I'm trying to do homework right now, but I thought I'd post two random pics from the trip. I flew from Texas to Oklahoma then we drove from OK to IL...The first pic is one I took from the airplane window for my daughter, she's been infatuated with clouds lately. The other was St. Louis at night and it's actually a "mess up". But it turned out better than what I was really aiming for! LOL...enjoy!
