Never stops

Eli used to joke that my full time job is my health- Not so funny now!

Friday, as we were heading out of town to get away from ourselves, we got a call from the APD (Atlanta Police Department), asking for more information about my assault. They asked for the attacker's birthday with exact year, address and I'm sure other things I can't think of now. All stuff I gave to the investigator on Monday. "Who did you speak with? We don't have anyone here by that name. Were you at zone 3?" I was at zone 5- where they told me to go last week. Where they took my written statement and got all her corrected information. "Did you call zone 5?"

She actually said, "I don't have any reason to call zone 5." She, the investigator, wanted me to call my work to get the above information and call her back. I called zone 5 to send her the information.

The weekend was a much needed getaway with my in-laws. Eli ran a race and came in first for his age group, that is slowly climbing... so is mine. Great for his race times; not so great for one who sits around all day investigating her own assault...

We took our 85 pound, five year old puppy to the beach to let her run. She was so excited and happy. Each time running to the water and back to me, almost to check in with me. On the beach, alone, I felt safe and sound. Free of fear and anxiety.

As we left, of course, we started to talk about our next move. The thought of going into the office that has supported this woman, for probably close to 20 years, tightens my shoulders and sends a pain through my gut. I ball up in the passenger seat, the seat she sat in when she reached for my throat. Then the thought of other participants- people who have yelled at me before, people who have records, people I used to want to help have now become masses of furry concealed until I unleash it. She is still receiving services while I am locked in my home, waiting for a warrant to be served.

I ran errands today and was feeling good. I have only taken my klonopin when I can feel a panic attack coming on and have even started splitting the pills in half. And then the phone rings. It's not the police, or the worker's compensation firm, or my office. It was my nurse for my gynecology/oncologist. My appointment is tomorrow but this was not a routine phone call to verify my appointment. She said, "I know you are coming here tomorrow but I wanted to know if you want to go ahead and schedule the surgery?"

The surgery?! I don't even know what the diagnosis is. I don't even know what "the surgery" is! This is not what you want to hear when you are on Prozac and klonopin to "just get by"!

24 hours from the phone call, I will find out what she is talking about. I'm hoping for the best... surgery?... is there such a thing?

Prozac and Panic Attacks

I started working full time again and thought I was getting everything together. I still have pain in my belly, I go to the bathroom a lot, and I haven't slept through the night in ever!

I feel like the normal stress of a full time job that everyone has, with the sleepless nights and sporadic eating is just too much to deal with.

I went to behavioral health and they upped my meds and sent me to a therapist. They also want to see if I am lacking in any nutritional values.

I'm just saying; a year ago, I had my reversal done. I still feel that I am recovering and I don't know when I will be done recovering...

At least work is extremely supportive.

Expect the unexpected

Things were going pretty well. I got all my tests run and registration completed. Unfortunately, there is always something.

CT scan showed a pelvic abscess... whatever that is. The doctors explained that it could be something- it could be nothing. Is that supposed to comfort someone? And because the surgery is so soon, we had to hear from the surgeon if it would interfere with the take-down surgery.

We decided to continue as planned with the surgery while the surgeon reviews the film. He couldn't tell where the abscess was so the day of surgery, my doctor hijacks my stretcher and hauls ass down the hall to the hospital CT facility. I guess it is an unusual sight to see a doctor wheeling a patient around. Everyone we passed in the hall ask, "You need help? You got that?" We had a deadline...

The first CT scan was administered from the mouth and with an ileostomy, that's where it ends. It can't go any further. Well, this time it was going from the bottom up... not fun. I always told people that the stoma is a kinked hose so the bottom part of it leads to my bottom. Honestly, I was never really sure but it made sense. I can tell you now! When they injected that fluid in my bum, my bag filled up FAST. I don't think she believed me when I said, "I can't hold it. Stop!" But when she saw my bag, she knew we were overflowing.

The film was read and I was off to surgery.