silent tears

Sometimes, without reason or warning, memories and emotions will bubble up and BITE YOU IN THE ASS!

My entire week has been like that – on the verge of tears (or slightly past the verge) with long-buried memories flashing into my mind.  I don’t know if it is the time of year, watching my Mother’s health decline, some whacked-out flux in my already fucked up body chemistry (thank you cancer), or what.

I’ve tried distracting myself with work, not always effectively; reading a funny book (thank you Bloggess); watching mind-numbing television; or trying to work through the pain.  None of it is helping.  I got a deep-tissue massage tonight – god bless you Megan – and while the physical pain has subsided, body work always brings up more painful memories.

It doesn’t help that I’m stuck in fucking Groundhog Day.  Every day – seven days a week – are the same thing: drag my butt out of bed; shower and throw on T-shirt and mommy jeans; take my handful of pills to stay alive; out the door to work; do everything for everyone else at work; come home and do laundry/housework/yardwork; take bath; take very, very large handful of evening pills (so I can stay alive); find heating pad for abdominal pain; turn on every fan in house and open windows; try to sleep (usually in 20-30 minute spurts interrupted with pain or tossing off/pulling on covers) – rinse, repeat.

Laying down – or any quite time for that matter, makes my mind turn to overdrive.

words – tiny mental accusations – float up at me

codependent     ALONE     dying       NOT GOOD ENOUGH    pain!!!

These words, of course, have lots of friends (memories) and most of them are spoken by familiar voices (family, “friends”, people who “love(d)” me . . . you get the gist).

There is something about April that turns my mind to self-destructive mush.

Apparently my body isn’t so fond of this time of year either.  Last year in April I went through my 2nd cancer recurrence and RAI (whole-body radiation) treatment.  Those of my dear friends who have been through it know it is nothing short of pure hell.  Maybe my body is having memories of being cripplingly hypothyroid last year and sick on radiation.

Maybe it is memories of three years ago in April when I was nauseated and had slight abdominal pain.  I ignored it for days but the nausea got worse.   I figured it was an infected appendicitis.  Finally on day three of throwing up I decided to get it checked out at the ER.  Six hours later – after the blood results were fine and they were ready to discharge me – the resident decided to play it safe and do a CT scan.   Half an hour later the  chief trauma surgeon was in my room with the resident (never a good sign) – the right side of my colon decided it was tired of it’s designated place so it twisted up and went to live on the left side of my body.  I woke up the next day in so much pain I was afraid I wouldn’t die from it (you know it’s serious when you stop fearing death and fear the pain more).  12″ of my colon and 6″ of my small intestine were now living in a lab somewhere and I woke to a 12″ scar down my stomach held together with staples.

Worst pain I have ever experienced was the pain I had for the next week or two.  It’s never completely gone away, all of my doctors say that my abdomen is filled with adhesions now that are constantly ripping whenever my guts move (and that’s kind of what they are there to do).  The only cure is surgery to cut them apart – which forms more adhesions.  Yeah, I have learned to live with it.

And the constant headaches; and the skin/GI tract bleeding; and the herniated disks; and the arthritis that we can’t treat . . . guess I should just shut up and be happy I’m still above ground.

Whatever.

My body and my mind beg to differ.

I can’t wait until May.

Off to take the night meds and fight with the pillow all night.

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2 comments

  1. I fought with the pillow all night too. Sorry you don’t feel well.

  2. Love this….all of those words, they float around here too. ❤

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