Random Ramblings

~We write so we don't feel so alone.~

It sums up in a few words why I blog.  Why I write some of the nonsense jibber-jabber that I do.  Ultimately it is because I feel so d*amn alone so much of the time.

Tonights post is jumbled up mess.  As I am at the present moment.  The day was filled with tons of ups and downs.  When I left work I felt the world come crushing down on me.  In a rather crushing way!!

I can't even write about it in depth.  Physical therapy was tough...really tough.  Two words you don't want to hear ever...specially AFTER you have shoulder surgery is adhesive capulitis aka: frozen shoulder.  And given the degree of severity....don't wanna hear that either.  And more daggers in the heart (OR head) when it comes to our older son.

I've had to remind myself this evening several times WHY it is that I don't drink.  I'm certain if I did.....I would never get back up. Ever.  And right about now.....that sounds pretty damn good.

Confessions of a Thumbsucker

What are your confessions....

This is one of mine.  

Not something that I walk around announcing to the world on a daily basis.  It never occured to me when I had my surgery I would be unable to suck my thumb.  It took me a few weeks to pinpoint what it was that would be bothersome as I fell asleep at night.  The drugs numbed the emotional pain and attempted to take away the physical pain.

  Once I stopped taking v.icodin on a regular basis, for the first time since my surgery (about 6 weeks), some of the deeper emotional bs started to creep slowly back in the need/desire to self soothe has become more of an issue.  

Going Up? Maybe.

I gave up trying to figure out the ups and downs of depression.  As I'm sure many have said before me...depression and mental illness is much like a roller coaster.  When you are up....your are up.  When you are down...you are down.   Everything in between is messy and sometimes more than one can bare.

I've got my butt securely fastened in the seat. I'm not going anywhere.  Hard to remember that it is a temporary ride, when it has hung around so long.  I'm hanging on tight.  As the gradual incline up has started to appear above the horizon.

With having surgery and having been in such a deep slump many things around my house have been let go.  Sure my husband does most of the cleaning and organizing.  However, there are things that have just plain been let go for way to long.

Slowly beginning to think about changing the look in my house.  Money is very tight.  We are unable to purchase anything at this point.  Keeping my thoughts and actions in line with moving up and forward will help me in my physical recovery.  In the end...that will help me getting back to work full-time.  And then it will only be a matter of time before we are able to add the little luxuries such as chalkboard paint to one of our kitchen walls.  And expanding my daughters closet.  Little things.  Moving forward. Moving up.

One thing and one day at a time.  For today I focused on baking and cooking.  Several different Pinterest recipes were made and tried today....some great and some not so great.  For this week I'm focused on making it to work and physical therapy.  Lessening the amount of pain medication each day.  Today, I've had nothing.  No Nsaids. No Tylenol. No narcotics.  None.  Doesn't mean I'm not in a ton of pain.  Just means...I was able to deal with the pain without giving in.  Without the anxiety around...when can I take the next dose.  Regardless of it being narcotics or nsaids.  I will continue to take one of the narcotics at bedtime in hopes that it will give me added help with sleeping.  This is still a huge issue.  And I need my sleep.  We all need our sleep.

Going Up?  Maybe!



I have not always felt like I am broken.  I have felt from time-to-time that I've been broken to the point that I didn't deserve love from anyone, especially from my Father in Heaven.  

Then I heard this song.  Actually, it was introduced to me a long time ago.  The message has changed my mind.  It is my prayer this evening that I"m able to take the message within this song and continue going up.

And as J* would say....find ease with in this battle.

Under Attack? Probably Not.

Over the last week everywhere I turn..I feel like those around me are constantly preaching at me.  Telling me what I should be doing or not be doing.  Everything from how I should GET to work....to how I should dress myself...to...how much pain medication I should be taking and how I should take it....to who I should vote for....to...everything I do....being told what to do and how to do it.

Maybe it is the medication speaking.
Maybe it is the depression speaking.

Maybe it is the pain speaking.

Maybe these people in my life...they know what they are talking about.
Maybe these people in my life...they don't know what they are talking about.

On Friday evening my Grandpa happened to be one of those people.  Telling me what to do. How to vote. What I should be watching on television.  I was in a rather bad space.  I hurt. I was tired. I was crabby.  So when he went on his political verbal diaherrea of the mouth...I put him in his place.  He is the racist person I know.  So, even if our current president was a Repug....he would hate him.  And....I told him that.  As the words came out of my mouth, I couldn't believe I was actually telling my Grandpa off...so to speak.  "You know...you are the racist person I know.  You don't like O.bama because he is black.  And you wouldn't like him even if he was a Repug...so shush it up to me.  This country offers me the freedom to vote for who I want and I will be damned if I'm gonna let you go on a tangent at 10pm on a Friday night because I don't like  the 'want-to-be' VP."  He continued and then told me "oh, I forget...you are a Union lover.  And so, of course you feel this way."  And then...I lost my shit some more.  Reminding him that not only do "I WORK in a service related field that is supported by a union.  HE RETIRED at "WHAT" age a detective?  And why did he do that?  Because he worked for a union.'  I ended our conversation shortly after on a rather abrupt note.  He had to have the last word of course telling me that when I feel better and am not in so much pain AND on so much pain medication I would feel differently.  I held my tongue from telling him to kiss my ass.

Earlier in the week my therapist told me she wasn't going to tell me what to do, how to do it...only that I needed to find it w/in myself to come up with a better plan for where I was headed.   Because she knows that by telling me I need to do XYZ will only end up with me turning the opposite direction and bulking at the matter at hand even more.  I get what she was saying. And I understand it.  F*ck, I'm living it. See my last post.  And yet, even though I know I needed to hear those things she was saying....it left me in a swirl of preaching. I know Jodi wasn't preaching.  Just like I know that my mom isn't trying to preach at me.  It is just how I'm taking it in at the moment.

This morning, I'm being told that I am doing to much and need to stay home.  If I am going to be able to work I need to lay low.  I call bullshit. I need to be able to be up and mobile and keep my strength up.  Sitting at home is not going to build my strength.  And so the battle continues to rage inside of me.

I'm being told over and over by so many people around me to cut back on the pain medication. And I do.  Until, I leave my house and start doing things.  Pain comes back full-force.  Which leaves me in a panic.  The pain is unbearable. Is it true pain from my surgery? Is it in my head? Is it anxiety induced?  I don't know.  As long as I sit somewhat reclined back...I'm okay and can do 'okay'.

 And then, as I cut back at night...it brings an entirely new set of problems with it.  For the last 5 weeks...the trauma issues that were rearing their ugly head, that were constantly flooding every moment of my day...have been on the back burner.  Simmering. Slowly...simmering.  Somewhat numb.  Actually, lots numb.  I've said it before a few weeks ago in therapy.  And I do believe I mentioned it in a blog post.  I've found myself more and more numb. Conflicted if it is a good thing or bad. NOt sure what to think about it.  Yet, as I cut back more at night...that numbness lessons.  Night terrors start slipping back.  Shame and disgust at so many things begin to creep in more and more.  

This post has went no where. It is my own random ramblings.  Trying to sort the crazy's that are plaguing my ever waking moment.  I've never felt so under attack as I do right now...every where I turn. Afraid to ask for help in fear of being judged, critized even more, told it is my own fault (bc damn it all I know it...I don't need to be told it) and thinking back to Jodi's words from my last appt...I need to do it myself. And truth be told...I don't know that I want to find the answers myself.  If I had them...I wouldn't be where I'm at right now. 

I HATE THIS¡¡¡

These two things....Fear and Anxiety...

...have taken up residence within me.  An entirely new spin on anxiety.  And the same goes with fear.

I've found a cocktail that helps me fall asleep.
I'm out of part of that cocktail.
My husband would not go to pharmacy to pick any more up.
I'm in way to much pain to drive.
I've taken max dose of narcotic pain meds to drive.

If the timing is right. 
If the pain is not to intense.
If...
If...
If...then this cocktail works.

I have fought my entire adulthood to NOT take any sort of prescription pain medication.   Having had several surgeries it was the one thing I prided myself with. 

This time it hasn't been an option.

I have a strong family history of drug and alcohol addiction.  Never have I taken as much ad a sip of alcoholic beverage, used any sort of drugs, or smoked a cigarette.   Ever.  I joke that one day...it will all end.  But,  I know...based on the eating disorder that has plagued me my entire adult life ranging from over-eating to bulimia to anorexia to binging and so forth.  Don't start.  Stopping won't be pretty.

Here I am.

One day shy of 5 weeks post op from major shoulder surgery.

And I'm battling the beginning,....

Holy F@ck ...I can't even type it out.  Over and over I have looked at this screen.  Trying to type out the words.  To say them outloud.   To own...there is a problem.

My therapist,  J*, had every reason to believe this could become a problem.  I have bit my tongue trying hard to not show my anger for her bringing it up again....AND...again!

I was honest and forthcoming from the start ..it worried me to be on pain meds.  I had every right to be worried. Yet, there was/id not choice around the matter.

It is well after midnight.  
I sit her staring at the screen.
With tears stinging my cheeks....wondering WTH am I supposed to do? 

I have got to have pain meds.  I still can not use my left arm. I can not raise it.  Imagine NEVER moving it more than 2-3 inches from your hip...that is abt the extent of movement I have.

I have put my pain meds in a not so accessible spot.

Afraid to go to sleep.
Afraid to ask my husband for help.  Because I know there is no help he can offer.  I end up pissed at him.  Like now.  He is sleeping.   Clueless at the amount of physical and emotional pain I am.  That is not true...he knows I'm in pain physically tonight.

Afraid if I fall asleep a repeat of the last week plus at night will happen.

And so I sit.

No benedryl left in our house.
Unable to physically drive to get some.
Nor do I need it.
Afraid I will not have enough medication to get me to my next appointment.
Knowing I don't have enough.
And in pain.

Lots of pain.

The last dose didn't touch the level of pain I had.

I've ate shit till I'm puking.

This cycle is viscous.

The only thing that lessons the pain and anxiety and fear is...hot baths.  REALLY hot baths.  If you've read here long....you may recall hot baths do for me what cutting does go those who cut.

And..I watch the clock.  It hasn't even been 2 hours and the pain is extreme.

And...the sucidial ideation kicks in full force.  Because it is late.  I'm tired.  I hurt. I'll hopeless.   I hurt. 

And...I fucking hate this with every fiber of my being.

Hate it!  Hate it! Hate it!

Numb

The narcotic pain meds are doing a number on my stomach.  Heartburn gets worse and worse.  Sleep less and less.

There are moments....little moments here and there where there is relief.  Tuesday after having a massage on Monday there was a little relief. When the pain started back in on Tuesday afternoon/evening it came with a vengeance.  Leaving me with just a few hours of sleep.

I woke after sleeping from 6-8 in my bed... this morning in a world of hurt.  Panicky and full of tears.  My husband called my surgeons office for me. I was woke up by a phone call and was barely able to talk on the phone for that call (that I had to take or I would have let it go to voice mail...it was my work comp case manager).

My surgeon was at the hospital in surgery today.  They promised to call back as soon as they spoke to him in between his cases.  Insisting that he would want to see me and made an appt for me tmw afternoon.  With in an hour the office staff called back.  They wanted me to have someone come in and pick up some pain patch (Flector) and give them a try.

My husband knows that I'm going stir crazy, getting crazy depressed, and needed to get out of the house.  So we went for a drive.  I also, saw my chiropractor while we were out.  My chiropractor knows me very well and one of his first comments was not how I looked on a "you hurt physically" realm of things.  However, he was concerned about how i looked on an emotional aspect.  His questions and concerns were "when do you see your psychiatrist again?  when do you see your therapist?  have you been seeing them?" and blah blah blah... I reassured him that I've seen J* every week since my surgery and have had an appt with Dr. KSB since my surgery.  He encouraged me to call their office and touch base.

The Flector patch provided a few hours of complete pain relief this afternoon/evening.  As I type this I'm having quite a bit of pain and it is a sleepless night, again.

As I have taken less and less of the narcotic pain medications...I am less and less numb to the emotional overload that had taken up residence prior to my surgery.

I absolutely hate how the pain meds make me feel.  And yet, this evening....that numb feeling ...is so much better than having it all exposed out on the surface.

One of Those Nights

I was reminded by J* this afternoon to stay away from the pity party cycle.  At the moment, I was able to hear what she was saying clearly.  Agree and understand fully the damage it does. I heard her concerns loud and clear.  It is the same audio tape that plays out in my head everyday.all.f*cking.day.long!!!

Yet, we came home after a very long day of being gone. We left at 10:30am bc the kids had appointments and I had 3 separate appointments.  Each appointment was in the same area of town and so it made no sense for my husband to drive 30 miles home to get me and then back again.

When we got home shortly after 6 tonight, I was fighting back tears.  Pain was tolerable.  My body is just not able to handle doing what it ended up doing.  I don't feel like I did that much.  Considering unless I was at my appts...I was sitting in the car.

I should be able to drive by now.
I can't.

I should be able to dress myself by now.
I did mostly last weekend.
I can't now.

I should be able to do so much more than I am.
And I can't.

When I look around my house at WHAT things I can do....

There are very few things that I can do.

I'm left handed.  I can't move my left elbow away from my waist.  Ever. For 8 weeks. I have. I do. Because it is your bodies natural instinct to grab something when you drop it. Not always do I want someone helping me get dress.  Not always is there someone home to help me get dressed.  I can't scrapbook. I've played more mother f*cking games online than I care to ever even admit. I can't cook for myself.  Toast is about the extent of what I can cook.  Occasionally, more.

What am I saying?

Nothing.
I'm just whining.
Feeling sorry for myself.
Frustrated that I'm still 100% reliant on narcotic pain medication.
Frustrated that I'm beginning to worry about being addicted to these medications.  Because I know what the early signs are..
Frustrated....and depressed.

Really freeking depressed.

The week has been long...

....and depressing.
....and longer.
....and more depressing.

On Monday I had an appointment with my OT.  She did an IFC treatment, again.  After the OT appointment I saw my chiropractor who did some deep massage into some of the areas of my neck that were swollen and very tight.  From there I had a therapy appointment.

About half way into that appointment I started to feel really horrible.  As in, nauseated the pain was so incredible intense.  I came home and took some of the pain medication.  And then...some more.  And then...some more.  By 10-10:30pm (shortly after I wrote the last post) I was in pure panic mode.  The pain was horrible.  Worse than the week after I had my surgery.  My husband insisted we head to the ER. I insisted on staying home.  He called my surgeon.

My surgeon thought that OT was to much and wanted me to end it.  And so I have. I won't be returning until the 26 or 27th when I see my surgeon next.

This week has been horrible.  As in absolutely horrific.  I've not been able to get a hold of the pain. I've spent most of my days in tears.  I leave the house only to go to the chiropractor and a massage.  The 24 hours after my massage were pretty good but not nearly as good as last week.  I've had muscle spasms, ran low grade fevers (in my arm and entire body), and just plain had no gumption to do anything. At all but cry.  I'm not sleeping, again.  I had gotten to a '2-2.5 hr at a time' spot with sleeping.  Not anymore. I'm back to 90 mins MAX at a time.  And pain meds...can't even go there.  I had cut back about half of what is prescribed. And after Monday have needed to go back up to the regular prescribed dose.  Which brings with it an entirely new realm of emotions = depression.

I'm in a not so good space.  I've lost my optimism.  Last week I found myself in this spot for one or two days.  With sporadic spots during the other days.  This week it has been all.day.every.day!

Pain Control

It's probably crazy that I'm typing this.  One handed it is.  I know I did to much this weekend. I also know, that I did not lift anything. I have not been lifting anything.  I want to document this in 'hopes' that I can look back in a few weeks and see how far I've come in my post op recovery.

I had Physical therapy, chiropractor, and a therapy appointment today.  All back-to-back.  I thought I was doing okay on the pain level until about half way into my therapy appointment.  When the pain hit it hit hard.  That was around 4:30pm.  It is now nearly 10:30pm.  I've spent a large portion of the last 2.5 hours in tears. I've taken the maximum (and then some) amount of pain meds that I can take.  My husband is upset that I'm 'on the computer...' he thinks..."you need to sit and relax and not be on the computer...."  When I did that the pain was even more unbearable.  Being on the computer, I'm able to keep mind off the pain for the most part.

The pain has been intense and I've not been able to get on top of the pain. I can't seem to keep the tears at bay.

I believe the physical therapy appointment is a huge culprit in this spurt of uncontrollable pain.  This happened on Thursday, too.  I was feeling 'pretty good' and then the IFC and Ice Treatment didn't go very well.

I'm thinking we will revisit the IFC treatments for sure!!

Sleeping in my Bed

Not being able to lay in bed has been harder than I would have imagined.  Not being able to retreat to a hot bath is just as hard.  I've not been able to shower in a week because of my incisions.  I could cover them and shower.  However, it would require I use adhesive to 'tape' my arm.  The skin breakdown is already an issue and so I've chosen to protect my skin as much as possible.  My normal coping techniques have been shot out of the park.  This morning, as I sit in my recliner, I'm struggling compose myself.

Sleeping, or trying to sleep, in my recliner isn't going well.  Laying in bed is even worse.  I've had no privacy what-so-ever.  And that part of this recovery process is not one that I was prepared for.  I knew sleeping in my bed was going to be an issue.  I wasn't prepared for the emotional effects this would all have on me.

This morning, the tears are plenty. I slept very little again last night.  Finding myself more and more sleep deprived.  And with that the tears are more.  I'm not coping well this morning.  Unable to stop the tears. Unable to think clearly.  

On a good day with no other factors playing into the mix, I struggle with depression and staying above water. On a good day it takes non stop effort to keep myself going.  I knew this would be tough. I knew it would be work. I knew I would need to be mindful and proactive in order to get past the first few weeks w/o sinking into a deep hole.

I guess my expectations for myself were a bit higher than they should have been.

Adding in the frustration and anger that has taken up residence towards the first surgeon who arrogantly blew me off...and...I'm a mess.

I left my massage and therapy appointments late yesterday afternoon/evening feeling pretty good.  Somewhat empowered and able to fight this battle with my head up high.

Somewhere between my therapy appointment and early this morning I lost it all.  

~Road 2 Recovery~

The road to recovery is going to be long.

I know this road to recovery will not be smooth.  I've been stretched to the limits this last week....literally and figuratively speaking.  Physically and emotionally stretched to the very limits.

Every single day, several times during the day, I consider what would happen if I stopped moving....literally and figuratively.  Immediately post-op I was hell bent that I was going to get back up. I was going to move this arm. I was going to fight to come out on top.  And do everything possible to ensure my range of motion and recovery would move along.

As I mentioned on Friday, the walls are caving in on me.  I've attempted to reduce the amount of pain meds that I've been taking. I know the backlash of being on them for any period of time does.  I've started feeling the effects already.

So I cut back drastically.  And the increase in my mood/foggy thinking was immediately noticeable.  For the better.  However, the increase in pain was also immediately noticeable.  For the worse.

On Friday morning I went to PT/OT for the first time.  The appt went well for the most part and I tolerated it much better than I thought I would.  My appt was originally set for Monday afternoon. However, I have an appt with my H*, my massage therapist and J*, my therapist.  I thought that seeing all 3 ladies back-to-back would be a bit to much.

Full of whirlwind of emotions.  Anything from extreme high and I can do anything to extreme low.

Tonight those lows are pretty low and the pain is pretty intense.  I can't physically go out and about for much time at all.  Yet, need to figure out how to be able to take pain meds, not be triggered into a tizzy bc the meds make me so incredible depressed and irritable.

No clue what tmw brings...

Moving Forward....Only Forward

Embracing life for what it is worth.  I'm a tad overwhelmed (doesn't take much) as I think about what the weeks ahead will hold.  I'm excited and terrified all in one.  While I had another massage appt today I knew exactly what I needed and wanted going in.  I made sure to let H* know that I did not want to happen.  We discussed the possibility of how to deter the easily triggered portion of my massage.  This has been an ongoing theme.  Being able to discuss it with H* and have the ability to trust she would listen to me is priceless!


My gut twisted a bit as I spoke w/my surgeon this morning regarding my upcoming surgery.  The recovery will be tough.

Even more priceless is having someone you trust to have your well-being at heart.  I'm confident that I will be in one of the best hands among surgeons in this University town.  I am not seeing anyone at the University and WILL NOT be going to the University.  I was not just another number today as I spoke w/my surgeon. I was his patient.  I was someone whom he cares about.  Sure, he will get paid because I am his patient.  Unlike, the other surgeon I saw.  He sees me for WHO I am.  A patient w/an injury.

I will rest much easier when I leave the hospital knowing that my work comp insurance company hasn't tried to screw with me.  The Nurse Case Manager has attended all of my appts except last week when I went in for an emergency appointment.  She made it clear today that I had surgery approval and it was about time to get this show on the road and start getting better...that I've attempted to do everything in my power to get better and I continue to go backwards.  I hope and pray she is right.  That her employer will not be asshats and I will be well on my way to recovery..moving forward.  ONLY forward.