Thursday, April 28, 2011

A departure

This is a departure from my normal posts, which are all about food.  This one is a bit more personal, in a whats happening in my life kind of way.  I'm trying to figure out if this blog will be only about food, and making food for events, and going to school trying to learn about food, or whether it can be all that, plus what's going on in my life.  I'm not talking the nitty gritty I need to vent, so this is a good place to do so, I have another blog for that, but that one is kept very apart from this one.  This one everyone that I know can see and knows about it.  The other one, I am hoping it is more or less private, it's my venting place, and being that, it is already being seen by people I don't want seeing it, because anyone in my actual personal life seeing it means that I have no place to vent about them, if I ever wanted to.  Anyhow, what I am saying is, should I let whomever might be reading in on what's going on in my life, or should I leave it all to the other blog?  In the end, I'm thinking I will post here with what is going on in my life, and of course the food stuff, it will become a public outpouring of my life, and the other will be what it always has been, a place to vent my frustrations.

So, that being said, this is going to be one of the posts that doesn't involve food.

I have something going wrong in my abdomen.  It is a pain that hurts like nothing I have experienced in a long time, except of course for when I had that problem that created the need for 4 surgeries last year, but I won't get into that here.  This pain, it is in the middle of my chest/stomach, right under my breast bone, and it feels like a rail road spike is being pounded in there.  So far they have done blood tests, they have done ultrasounds, they have done CT scans, and yesterday they did an endoscopy.  And they have found nothing.  I take morphine every day just to function, and it sucks.  After we get back from Disneyland, I am going to taper off the morphine and learn how to live with the pain until we figure out how to fix it, or even find out what it is.  My doctor is nice enough to let me go to Disneyland pain free though.

This post though, I want to talk about yesterday.  About my endoscopy.  I've had them before.  Lots, because I am a gastric bypass patient.  And for every one, I have been put to sleep, or at least done the whole twilight sleep thing, where you get some good drugs in your IV and the next thing you know you are being woken up and they are giivng you your results and sending you out the door.  That didn't happen this time.

They gave me the medicine.  It didn't work.  They gave me some more.  It worked a little, but I was still awake.  They didn't want to give anymore, and so I went through the procedure, awake.  I gagged and choked as they put the camera on its long tube down my throat.  I fought them, and it was not a pleasant experience.  My throat still hurts from it, when normally that doesn't last long.  When they brought me out to recover, I was a screaming, hysterical hyperventilating freak.  I was thrashing, and panting, and screaming, and I couldn't stop.  I've never lost it like this before in my entire life.  They said I was having a panic attack.  If this was a panic attack, then what I used to call panic attacks were nothing.  They made me breath into a paper bag, and they shot me up with Valium.  They yelled at me, and made me open my eyes, even though that freaked me out worse.  I have a bit of a thing about faces getting to close to mine, I freak out, so opening my eyes was not helping their cause.  Finally the drugs started to work, and they brought Bart in, which helped immensely.  Bart has always been my security blanket, and he knows exactly how to calm me down.  They told me that they found nothing, and sent me on my way.

I took a pain pill right away after this, and another a half hour later.  I was in so much pain, and my brain was still panicking.  I called to tell my mom about it and started crying.  Anytime I brought it up, I would start crying.  I couldn't get over it.  My brain, even today, still feels traumatized.  I have never had a melt down quite like this.  I couldn't control myself, and for someone who has to be in control always, this was hard for me.  I am still having trouble processing what happened, why I lost it that way.  Everyone in my life says its kind of a duh answer.  I was awake while they choked me with a tube with a camera on it.  And I panicked.  Plain as day.  I just still don't understand how I got so out of control.

And that's it, I wanted to get this out.  In writing.  And I wonder, how many others have freaked out this way, or am I alone?  Was I just a big baby wimp?  I feel like I was, but I have to remember, my body did its own thing.  I couldn't have controlled it if I could.  I went into major flight mode and there was nowhere to fly to.

I need to let it go.  Because I can't let it stay forefront in my mind.

I did come home and sleep for hours and hours.  Then I made dinner.  I made spaghetti.  And I  ruined the sauce.  Which is funny, because I use a canned sauce.  I make it my own however.  I made enough sauce to put some aside for another day as well, and because I hadn't mixed that portion with noodles, I was able to fix it.  How do I change canned spagetti sauce, that you buy for under a dollar into my own?  I add some garlic, so italian seasonings, and then my two special ingredients.  Sugar and cream cheese.  I like the cream cheese, it makes for a creamy, not so acidic tomato sauce.  And I grew up with a grandfather who made a sweet spaghetti sauce, so I like to add sugar too.  Everyone loves my sauce though.  Except for my son.  He went to bed hungry last night, because he refused to even take a bite of a noodle.  he was sure he would hate it.  I don't make separate meals, and  I didn't have bread and butter out because I had bread with garlic thyme butter and cheese on it out for people to eat.  He wouldn't touch that either.  he used to be such a good eater, ate everything.  I even bragged about what a good eater I had.  I think that's what happened.  So, while Ciera eats everything, I refuse to brag about it.  Though Aiden did want artichokes for dinner a couple of nights ago.

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