*********TRIGGER WARNING**** THIS IS A “VENTING” POST************
I will try to make this update as brief as possible. If you have read my blog, then you know how that usually doesn’t work out ;)
In my last update I wrote about my seizure (from lorazepam withdrawal) and how my life was great… at that moment.
- Sooo… a few weeks after that I got extremely sick, won’t go into the gross details, but I ended up in the Veterans Emergency Room for fear of lack of dehydration. Waited in the waiting room for 6-7 hours, then finally got a bed. Got tons of blood tests, IV for fluids and antibiotics, was in there for 7-8 hours (these times are estimates, because I have no sense of time). They could not figure out what I had, so they just kept ruling things out. Then I had an abdominal CT Scan, they noticed my appendix was ‘irritated’. I was NOT having any abdominal pain. They decided I had appendicitis, but could not decide whether to have it removed or not. I was eventually admitted to Critical Care, or something like that. I had my room and tv. On the 3rd day, they decided I should have my appendix removed, but left it up to me. So, I said, “just take the damn thing out” (because every time I go there for abdominal pain, they always have to rule appendicitis out). Now if I go again for abdominal pain, I can say, “my appendix has been removed, so it is NOT that”. I had a laparoscopic appendectomy done. They kept me another day after that to ‘monitor’ me. I was okay, so was released on the 5th or 6th day. I HATE HOSPITALS! It was so boring. But hey, my ‘symptoms’ did go away, so I was happy. Not so happy that I had to take it easy for a few weeks after the surgery so I would heal nicely and not cause further damage. Taking it easy 2 weeks before a huge move… not that easy. I felt useless, my husband had to lift anything over 10 pounds. I tried to take it easy as much as I could (not very much). But I did not cause further damage, and healed nicely, not completely healed yet. The experience slightly traumatized me. Estimated date this all happened November 5-11. My follow-up appointment was the day before scheduled flight. Doctor did not really do an exam, he just pressed on my side, and said I was good to go. The results were back, and it was a GOOD thing I had it removed, because my appendix would have eventually ruptured and with the timing it probably would have happened around the time we got to Puerto Rico.
- Mentally I was quite stressed out having to take care of canceling this and that, having to get my 2 furbabies checked out. Selling all of our furniture and items we no longer needed. Kept a few things in storage. Making sure I had enough medications for at least 1.5 month. Yadda, yadda, yadda.
OKAY, I am just going make this as short as possible. I deleted most of it, but kept the above. I NEVER used to write like this, I was always straight to the point, now I am all “blah, blah, blah”
- Flying Day: Got felt up by the TSA, because my hands tested positive for ‘explosive’ residue… you know because I was not stressed enough, nor have PTSD, nor have issues with being ‘touched/patted/rubbed’ up and down by a complete stranger… They went through all of my stuff (invasion of privacy, embarrassed much… no), pushed me off to the side, Mike had no idea what was going on. Was extremely near my breaking point, shaking, ready to burst into tears from the added stress/anger/fear/shame they were causing; because I figured if I ‘lost’ it, there would be no flights for Rebecca for a while. AND I did have a ‘disability’ card explaining my disabilities. When I bought the tickets, I also made them aware of my mental state. (apparently the TSA does not give a shit about any of that… they separated me from my Emotional Support Dog [having a letter and prescription from my Psychiatrist]… At least I was put in a separate SMALL room when I was ‘fondled’). Had to change Gates 3 times because of airplane ‘issues’. Flights were smooth, was able to have both furbabies on my lap, had to tell Flight Attendants they were emotional support dogs, and they said ‘okay’ and let me be. Got to PR around midnight.
- Spent almost 5 hours every evening searching online for a rental apartment (home)… took 3 weeks to find a place. Ended up being so worth the time, because we found a great place for a great price.
- Bought a used vehicle, and got completely ripped off. Ended up having to spend LOTS of money to make it drivable. The person selling it, rigged it to ‘work’ when he sold it to us. Thankfully we had the money to pay to get it ‘fixed’. Find something else wrong it almost every day. We had to laugh about it.
- Ended up having to put Sammie (my 15-year-old furbaby) to sleep anyway. That was EXTREMELY rough for me. Had her cremated.
- Got attacked by bugs on my legs. Was not bad, just dots everywhere, until they started to itch. That lasted 2 days with no relief, tried everything, ointments, sprays… you name it.
- Living right on the beach and not being able to go into the water above my thighs, having to wait to my surgery incisions to completely heal. (not that big of a deal, I know).
- Going to the VA and having to wait I don’t know how long to see a therapist or psychiatrist. Have an appointment in January with my assigned Primary Care Provider, but no Mental Health appointments, I tried to do a ‘walk in’ for Mental Health, was seen by a nurse and refused to be seen by a Mental Health Professional. I am going to have to make a few phone calls to be seen any time soon, I SERIOUSLY need it. (I find this troubling, because I am rated at 100% total and permanently disabled due to bipolar, YET can’t be seen by a psychiatrist when I go to the VA and say I desperately need to see one.) I am sure I can go to a local Emergency Room, but I am not now suicidal, a danger to myself or others.
- Last but not least. My husband obviously knows I am bipolar, and is somewhat educated about it. He has stood by side and supported me through some seriously difficult times. Yet, he thought coming here would make me feel better. The sun and sand and all of that. I know he knows better than this, and he says he was just ‘hoping’ for it. This aggravates me and I tried explaining it to him why it bothers me, but I don’t think he ‘gets’ it. He has had his own adjustment issues, therefore less patient. I understand and don’t blame his behavior, he is only human. When we get along, it’s great. When we disagree or argue, it’s AWFUL. My friend at Musings of a Bipolar Hot Mess posted this picture today, I thought was a perfect example of this ‘situation’. I am still ‘me’ no matter where I am… NOTE: My husband has been supportive though. He has been cooking for me, making sure I eat and take showers, doing all of the laundry… It is just that ‘one’ thing I don’t think he ‘gets’. He is not a bad husband, that is not what I am saying at all, so please do not misinterpret what I am trying to say.
- Anyway, there is more, but I will leave it at this. And PLEASE don’t ask me why we decided to move here in the first place. It is something I am tired of explaining the entire story. In short, it was a decision we made together for our own reasons, and the timing of everything just happened to happen when it did. This was never meant to be a ‘permanent’ move. Just something temporary, for 1 year or so depending on how it went.
- Right now, our lease is for 6 months. I am sure things will get better, I remain hopeful. We will both adjust to living here, and so will Roxy (our other furbaby). We will explore, travel and do what we came here to do. Enjoy life to the fullest, enjoy each others company and simply just be.
This post is an update, since it has been some time since my last post. But this post was also a way for me to get everything out. My way of dealing with everything. Me helping me. So this post is basically a ‘vent’ post. It has overwhelmed me, so much going on in so little time. I am just mentally tired and heartbroken day after day… Thanks for ‘listening’.
(not editing, as far as grammar, spelling and such now; not in the mood. Will probably correct errors later, because they annoy me ;) )
Much love and peace! Bekr