It’s Already Over…

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I wake up every morning to a “standard” level of pain. It can waiver slightly, but it pretty much stays the same. I think about waking up next to someone and having them see me fumble my way to my bathroom. I imagine them realizing that I am going to be some level of ill at all times. For the rest of my life. I can’t help but to think:

“It’s already over.”

Chatting. Laughing. Having a great time, when suddenly a pain shoots through my side, causing me to pause and slouch over in pain. Visceral hypersensitivity has decided laughing is over.

“It’s already over.”

Eating. Sharing. Getting to know one another, when suddenly my spoon drops from my hand, causing soup to splatter all over my front. My hand lost grip due to my arthritis.

“It’s already over.”

Outside. Walking. Holding hands. Sweet nothings, when suddenly I slouch over and need to find a bathroom! My IBS is acting up, and it is urgent!

“It’s already over.”

Couple walking in feild I am often referred to as a man hater due to my very strong opinions about women’s rights, and protecting us from the fear of rape and abuse. Calling a woman a man hater over her fighting for her gender’s rights is simply ridiculous. Not one day goes by where something doesn’t happen that is hurtful or abusive towards me from a man. We are taught to ignore it. To walk away. To let it go. Some also think that since I meet and talk to so many men online, that I must just be a man hating slut. This can’t be furthest from the truth.

The reality is that I am ill. I have met men in the past I liked, however my body was out of order. Trying to date someone is so hard when you have so much going on inside. So much going on in your body.. and in your mind. In my mind. I know that the more I think, the worse it gets. Maybe not the illness, but the fear. The thought that once I come out with all of my ailments, the first thing they will do is run. They will want to run as far away from me as possible, and never return. Each time I see a face react to a moment of clarity. A moment of realization. Each time I can’t help but to think:

“It’s already over.”

But is it? Is it really over, or is it all in my head? Do they want to stick around? Do they want to talk about it, learn about it, and even one day accept it? I have no idea, but I figure that if this is the case, one day it will simply happen. Someone will educate themselves. They will take the initiative. They will see the value in me that still exists, and base what develops off of that. I may be the one standing in my way, but it has nothing to do with my feminism. It has everything to do with my self sabotage. My fears. My pains. My hurt and anger still lingering because I am ill. It’s possible that it really is already over, long before it begins.

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It’s All Moving Too Fast..

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Groggy and still a little drugged from my nighttime muscle relaxer, I wandered into the bathroom. My guts churned and growled at me as I took each painful step. I’m used to the pain in my feet in the morning. Same old, same old. As I finish my painful, and awakening business on the toilet, I looked at my scale right next to be. “I wonder how much I weigh…”
Pulling the scale out, I laid it flat on the floor, sighed, and stepped on. I stood up straight for about 5 seconds then looked down. download “Uhhh… that can’t be right.” I had weighed myself Friday, and was down 20 in the last 5 weeks. Let’s try this again. Step off. Move slightly around in case the floor was not leveled and the cause for the results. Back on. Same weight. Moved. Same. Moved again. Same. I had lost 5 pounds in three days.

As someone who gained 80 lbs in a year from illness, it’s nice to see that I’m losing weight… but this fast? Last night I had taken an epsom salt bath that had resulted in black water afterward. Not the best thing.. but to lose weight this fast concerns me! The only thing I can think of is that for one, I’m very sick and eating healthier… which still makes me sick. For two, the obstruction in my colon was gone, and allowing my body to process the foods I eat, instead of holding onto them. Then burning the fat instead of feeding myself toxins non stop.

As happy as I am today that people have begun to notice the change, I’m still hurting. I have fissures through my entire colon. Internal hemorrhoids. Polyps. It’s going to take months to heal. Using the bathroom feels like FIRE! But at least I’m getting skinny, right? Hmm… it hurts. If I have to go through this the entire time until I’m thin again? I just want to stay fat instead…

You’re Not Preferred..

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So here I sit. It is past 2am, I am in desperate need for a shower, and my mind is racing a million miles per hour.

My leg is almost healed, and though I am supposed to be going to physical therapy twice a week, I have yet to do so. I want to get my car back down to me (it is getting registered by my lovely mom right now since I work the hours to get it done) and then make the appointments. My ankle is still achy, and feels tight. My toes are half numb all the time, but apparently that is normal with this kind of break. Could take years to get the feeling back, if ever. I am still wearing my boot to work, but wear an athletic brace at home. I am still very inactive, and because of this I have gotten even FATTER! I am not really concerned about how I look right now, as I am more worried about getting my health back on track. I eat decently healthy most of the time, but am VERY inactive due to the illnesses/flares I have endured lately as well as the broken leg. I haven’t been this fat in over 10 years. SO strange to have my clothes not fit me again. To be the fat one waddling around the office. I am not really self conscious, because once again, I am more worried about other things. The time will come when I can be more active, and my useless piled on weight will start to fall off again. Now is not that time.. but I have been thinking a bit..

When I was thinner, just about 18 months ago, I actually looked pretty good. I was larger than I wanted by about 20 lbs, but I looked great for having 4 kids. I was then, as I am now, pretty confident in myself. There was only one problem: Him. Jeff. I remember feeling so good about myself, and often times very sexy. I would walk the halls at work, and know I was attractive. I would go home, let my hair down, wash my face and STILL feel so beautiful and attractive. Then the conversation would come up, and I would be reminded that he wanted me thinner. man-checking-out-other-woman He was interested in thinner women. I was LARGER than he preferred, “but he loved me anyway”. I have never understood the ‘love you anyway’ concept in a relationship. If you love someone, you love them how they are. You do not prefer a better version of them. Especially a version you have never seen, or maybe they have never been!! Knowing your sexual and emotional partner prefers someone who is smaller than you are, especially when going through health issues (I was two years into my dilemma) is incredibly hurtful. I remember standing in front of the mirror, tears streaming down my face, as I poked at the soft spots I knew he was referring to. I had given birth to, and fed 4 babies with my body. I was going through the worst pain and misery I had in my entire life with my health, and I wasn’t good enough in his eyes.

“I prefer…” – This can be such a crushing moment for anyone. Male or female. A woman tells a man she prefers men who are hairless; to her wolf like mate. “I prefer hairless men… but I love you anyway.” – This stands that there is STILL a preference, a BETTER version, if you will, of the person standing before them. “I prefer women with larger breasts… but I love you anyway.” – Here stands a crushed woman, knowing that he would much prefer her body be so different, instead of cherishing and loving every inch. We all have “preferences” of the kind of mate we go after, but if you are pursuing a person who does not fit your most wanted qualities, what are you doing? Now, that is not always the case. Sometimes someone is not your type, and yet you fall madly for them for the wonderful person they are. What then? Do you inform them of your preferences and let them know you “love them” despite them being somewhat unattractive to you? I know it is such a fine line to cross, but it is one that in a relationship you do not want to barge through. It has been over 15 months since we split, and here I am, still wounded knowing a man I was with did not accept my body as it was. Nor did the man before him post baby. I can’t help but to wonder what kind of men I get myself involved with that would be so unaccepting and unloving of such a beautiful thing as a mother’s body.

So here I sit, 2:30am on a Monday morning. I need to be up for work in 6 hours, and I still haven’t showered. Thinking on what my body means to me and to others. I look at my swollen belly, my oversized arms, and my “thunder thighs” and can’t help but to think what a mess they would think me to be. How judged I would be by those who I have shared my bed with. How they would likely scowl and make jokes of my current health problems.

art-SHE-fat-20130606193605324870-620x349 “She’s gotten so fat!”

“Wow! I really dodged a bullet there!”

“Ew! Look at that! Good thing I am not with her anymore! DAMN!”

“No wonder she is still single! GROSS!”

Once again, looking over my body, I can’t help to see what I am. A tough girl. A very, very tough woman. I am what I am right now, and I accept what I am. I prefer to look over myself and think:

“I live through this pain every day. My body carries a heavy weight right now, both physically and emotionally. My body is strong in all it’s weakness. I am amazing. I am beautiful. Each and every inch of me is perfect just as I am right now. One day at a time.”

I don’t look in the mirror and see my fat. The rolls on me even seem foreign and strange to me some days. What I see is beautiful me. I see a strong woman who is fighting with all that she has for herself, and her family. For her health and her love. Getting my life as collected as possible, all while fighting a painful and hard battle. I do not see someone who needs to change. I see what I am today made by my decisions thus far. I do not see someone who is unattractive and unwanted. I see a beautiful, strong woman who can take anything that is thrown her way! Anything that tries to knock her down is thwarted, and she rises. The pounds on the scale do not bother me like they did when I was with him. I weighed myself multiple times a week when we were together. I measured, sucked in, cried… sobbed even… and felt awful about myself almost daily. I was “not enough” – “not preferred” but tolerated. Waiting for me to change into the women he thought I should be, while I accepted him (Not gracefully, I must admit. I suck at relationships) just as he was. There was no “preferred” him I wanted. There was just… him. As much as he thought otherwise, I assume from his want for me to be different, I loved him as he was. Every inch, pound, hair, and big nose on him. Perhaps that is why his words of hurt have lingered for so long… but perhaps it is part of why I am what I am today. Why I can look in the mirror now and say, “Fuck that dude. You are awesome!” – And poke myself in my jiggly belly, because I know that tomorrow is another day, and everything about me today is perfect. Every flaw. Every stretch mark. Every little imperfection anyone else would see. I am me, and I am awesome.

Giving Up For Today…

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Today my anxiety is through the roof. I’m both physically and emotionally in pain. My heart aches, and my head aches. I’m so stuffed up I can barely breath, and I can’t keep from crying.

sleeping positions in periodsMy life is in shambles, and I have no idea how to put it back together. I’ve never felt so helpless, and I don’t know how to handle this feeling. I think I’ll give myself today to let it all out, and see if I can think straight tomorrow. I’ve given up on my relationship with “Rain”, and I’ve given up on today. I am not sure what else I’ll give up on, but right now I want to give up all together.

I really dislike how diagnostics, chronic pain, and chronic illness make you so emotional. I wish I had more control, but I don’t.

No More Him…

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I have just done something that used to provoke anxiety in me, but has now made me feel free and as though a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

I deleted every text, email, etc that I had from Dead Horse (Jeff) in my email. They are ALL gone. I have removed all his emails, phone numbers, etc from all of my contacts and eliminated all social networking connections we had.

This may not seem like a big deal to most people, but to me it is. I have removed the words that he wrote to me from my life completely. Every “I love you”, “Fuck you”, and any other emotion I was holding onto… are gone. Every. Single. One. I did a search in my system, and every email or text that even mentioned his name is also gone. And here is why.

I have been thinking less and less about the Dead Horse, which is such a relief. There are times I realized I haven’t even though about him in over a week. I haven’t had him be the star of one of my dreams for quite some time. Until last night. It was SUCH an unpleasant dream, and I woke feeling isolated, shunned, exposed, and hurt. frustrated-business-woman-stuck-box-isolated-7145177 I went through many emotions during my vivid night time expression of emotion. I was shoved in a box, thrown out of a car, hugged, pushed, shamed, and at one point I was sobbing naked in front of his whole family. I choked out reasons behind my failure to be what he wanted, expressing my own personal hatred for my illness, and begging them not to judge me while Dead Horse took off with his new gf. I cried and cried about my illness. I apologized for not being able to keep up. They all told me that he was better off with someone “normal”. That I was “bad for him” because of how much time and energy I was and would suck out of his life. That he deserved better than someone of my “caliber”. Someone who can be active, doesn’t have the emotional and physical limitations I have, and doesn’t come from my same family history. At one point they were shoving me inside a small car while I asked for at least my clothes back, but they all insisted I just leave. Bare chest and all.

I could feel the pain that he had caused me during and after our relationship. I felt the burn inside me that only he had ever caused me to feel, as well as the ache and loss that I felt every time he told me he didn’t want what he “knew” I wanted. Every time he walked out the door because he thought we might “fight” that night. The nights I spent alone crying in my bed while he was home watching basketball and getting drunk instead of helping me through such a difficult time that is chronic illness diagnostics. Of course, I was feeling run down, emotional, and not “physical” at all, so why would he spend time with me when I was being such a downer, right? All of these feelings rushed through me while I fought myself to wake up. I knew I was dreaming, and all I wanted was to let go of all these emotions that obviously still linger inside me. I had to, and have to let it go!

When I woke up I was nearly in tears. I was flat on my back, and I could hear my girls playing and fighting downstairs. I stared at the ceiling trying to fight off the useless emotions that were flowing through me. My WHOLE body ached, and I couldn’t help but have quick thoughts of how it might be better to be a vegetable than what I am right now. stock-footage-portrait-of-sad-and-unhappy-woman-crying-laying-in-bed-in-bedroom-pensive-girl-uhd-ultra-hd-k Maybe numb from the neck down… but that honestly sounds more miserable than what I am going through right now. I would hate to not be able to slap a bitch. lol – Reaching over for my phone, the lights were blinking like crazy. I had so many texts, notifications, snapchats, etc. Hmmm… I will check them all later, I only cared about the ones from Rain. “Yeah.. I thought about you quite a bit.” and “Mmmm… another whole day?!?” – Rain had gone out with some friends the night before, and I had sent him some enticing texts. We have a date tomorrow night, and I am glad to see that he is still just as eager as I am. This started to pull me out of the hurt I was still experiencing from my dream. The sound of my children downstairs, numerous texts and social interactions waiting to occur, and the texts from Rain reminded me that I am still a person. I am still me, though I felt shoved around and pushed away due to my needs, especially in my dream. Jeff… all I felt was hurt, betrayal, and cruelty. The pain when he cheated on me. The hurt when I found out about his numerous lies. The rejection and betrayal when he replaced me within 14 days of our 2 year relationship ending. I pictured myself standing bare and exposed in front of everyone just pleading for them to see ME! To see that I was trying to be what he needed, and even what I needed, but falling short due to things outside of my control. THIS is what hurt the most. Being so exposed, and so rejected.

All day today I have been feeling off. I have been feeling low, and the aches throbbing through me are not helping. Since I sprained my ankle on Sunday, I used crutches for a few days. Apparently these crutches caused some deep bruising and issues in my arm pits, and I have since developed both pain and a few small cysts. pain-woman1 Even my clothing rubbing against the tender tissue sends shooting pains through me. What would he have thought of my arm pit pain? Would it be just another inconvenience? Another reason to roll his eyes and go home? Would he once again tell me that it is in my head, and I should have a better attitude? That I would probably be better if I just wasn’t so negative! – I cringe at the thought. I thought about all the feelings and pain I kept to myself just so I didn’t push too much emotion on his shoulders. I wanted him with me, I wanted to SEE him, so I knew I had to keep certain things in. I had to watch certain shows. Drink certain drinks. Even discuss certain topics. Why did I do that to myself? Why did I push myself around so much for someone who was mistreating me behind the scenes? Who was reading each and every text that I ever sent. Every email that I both sent and received. He hacked into my facebook, my work email, my personal email, etc. He hated friends and family for what I thought was no reason, but later found was misguided opinions of texts and other interactions I had with them. I pushed a handful of people out of my life for him because they made him uncomfortable. Of course that stemmed from chats from long time friends telling me I was lovely, and a good catch, etc.

About an hour ago I logged into my email to see if my sister had sent over some pictures she wants me to upload, and I noticed his name on the left side of my screen. article-1175013-0499B8A7000005DC-375_468x325 Why on earth do I still have him in my chat list? I right clicked, and removed. Then it hit me… I still had almost EVERY interaction we had ever had in my emails. Work chats with him, home chats with him, emails, texts, photos, etc. Why? Why did I still have these? WHAT is the purpose? Doing a search for his name, I started deleting. Pulling things with every keyword I could possibly think of that would bring up something from/to him. DELETE. Over and over and over again! I found THOUSANDS upon THOUSANDS of internet interaction and removed them. I then went and extra removed them by deleting them from my trash. I searched and searched until I could not find one thing left. It felt amazing. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders when I finally realized that I had no choice to go and read his words. His loving words, casual words, and most of all his hateful words. The manipulative way he would talk down on himself for sympathy. For me to come to the rescue and show him that he was wanted. The strange things he would bring up for no reason, and the odd fights they would start. As if he wanted to spend time away from me just to be away. NO MORE. No more him. No more us. No more. No more Jeff Hebert.

No more… Jeff… no more dead horse. His words are gone, and I couldn’t feel better about it. I never knew deleting digital communication would feel so freeing.

I got this…

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Clumsiness. Such a bad thing when it comes to people who are easily injured. I happen to be entirely clumsy, and often end up stepping on things, dropping things, and best of all… falling down. On Sunday while I was out to breakfast with Rain and my girls, I had a fight with a rock. No.. not a rock. A pebble. I am ashamed to say that I literally stepped on a small pebble, which took my down to my knees and caused a small tear in my left ankle ligament. How brilliant am I? It was not only painful, but so very embarrassing for me for Rain to have to come and help me up. I writhed in pain, and held back tears (which come on, I am SO used to pain I could hold back tears for days!) while we headed back to my house.

46-woman-wrapping-sprained-ankle-lgn-91242505 Rain had come over the night before, and we had a lovely evening. He came over a bit early so we could prevent as much “curiosity” peeking from the girls by him meeting them and hanging around for a bit. They adore him. This both makes me nervous, but is also comforting at the same time. I have had many friends, both male and female, who have come and spent quite a bit of time and then faded out. People come and go out of your lives, and though I have been so protective over my lovelies hearts, I feel at this point it is better for them to see that engaging with the opposite sex is not just for boyfriend/girlfriend situations. Rain and I have known each other for almost a month, so we are not even fully acquainted yet… though… we did get “acquainted” with each other that night. Quite acquainted. And it was fantastic.

During the drive home, Rain rolled down the windows to let some fresh air in because, though I was holding back tears, I was not doing such a good job at not breathing fast and heavy. The cool air felt great on my fingertips, and distracted me from my ankle. That was.. until he rolled them up. Without me noticing. Until it was too late! I was able to pull my hand in without scathing, except my poor little pinky finger. So here I am, ankle swelling and throbbing in pain, and now my pinky is bleeding. What a lovely end to a lovely date. The look on Rain’s face was nothing short of magical guilt. He insisted that he cancel all his plans and take care of the poor sick girl. I was quite tempted to just send him on his way, take care of myself, and wallow in self pity. While he was getting an icepack, getting my ankle propped up, and ensuring I was comfortable I considered the reasons to say no. Pride. That was it. Pride would prevent me from allowing him to take care of me. Guilt. The guilt of needing someone to take care of me, and being so very fragile at this point that it can be almost a requirement. I wanted to just sit on my couch and cry. I always feel so vulnerable and weak when these things happen to me. 200167732-002 I have always been a bit clumsy, and this is probably the 3rd time I have torn those same ligaments since I was a teenager, but I could take care of myself back then. I did not need someone to help me, because I could hop on one foot all I needed. Crutches didn’t ache in my armpits, and cause my hands to swell. My hips didn’t throb, and my whole body didn’t flare up. I knew I was going to end up fully exhausted, miserable, and in pain for the next few days simply because I was hurt. Why shouldn’t I let a caring, affectionate, worried man take care of me? No realistic reason. I reluctantly agreed, and hoped that it didn’t end up scaring him away. Chronic illness is serious, and having things shoved in your face can frighten anyone. Especially someone I barely know.

He took care of me. He kissed my face, played with my hair, and snuggled me. He listened to my body when it negatively reacted, and also when it positively reacted. He kept me safe from my over excited, crazy little minions; ensuring that they stayed away from my leg while I napped, but also teasing me about my law mower snore. RUDE! I didn’t know I snored so bad, but I am sure that it was the swelling of my insides in general from the injuries, not to mention the allergies of spring. He stayed for over 6 hours, doting to my every need and taking SUCH great care of me. When he left I was sad, but so pleased that he had been so good to me. He took an awful thing and turned my day back around. I am fond of Rain.

This week has also been rough. My body has been flaring due to the accident, and I have been so stressed. I had updates left and right with clients. Escalations all over the place, not to mention taking care of my own random client upsets. I was half awake, my mind has been working in slow motion, and my body was fighting itself off. By Tuesday afternoon I was so worn out that I accidentally double dosed myself on my mood stabilizer instead of my gabapentin. woman-medication-worried-200x300 In my defense, the bottles look almost identical and I was on the phone with a client. I was distracted, and I hurt myself. I only noticed about 10 minutes later when I went to reach for my inhaler and realized that my limictal bottle was at the top of my purse and not the gabapentin. Faaaaantastic. I quickly Googled the effects of what would happen at the dosage I had taken, and saw that I could quickly lose control of my cognitive function, as well as my hand eye coordination. I banged my head on my desk and considered my options. It was about 3:55pm, and I get off at 5. By that time I could have lost all control over my basic functions, and will likely not be able to drive, let alone walk. I kicked myself mentally over and over again for about 5 minutes, and then I left work. I informed my babysitter I was coming, and to have my girls ready. Let my boss know I had drugged myself, and would put myself in danger if I did not leave for home. I felt like such an idiot, but it was what it was, and I just need to remember that I rarely do that. I think this is only the 3rd time in 3 years. Not too bad of a track record, right?

Tuesday was my Rheumatologist appointment, and I was so scared! I was worried about the pain it would put me through, and the results he would find. I want him to find and help with every bit of me that is wrong, but I also don’t want to find something that is not fixable. I was also terrified that he would tell me I was crazy, and send me on my way. This did not happen at all, which was a huge relief. I would like to write a post that goes through my first appointment all on it’s own, so I am going to skip including it in this post. Let’s just say it was painful, but it also went well.

Today is Friday, and tonight I am spending the evening with my lovely Kindred Spirit, and her babies. I am so excited, I can barely contain it. She recently had a beautiful baby girl (about 3 months ago), and has two others. We have known my KS for about 6 years, and she is such a wonderful addition to my life. I wish I saw her more, but we are both full time working moms, I have my illness, and she has her new baby. We were pregnant together when I had my last minion, and our babies have been friends their whole lives. They hear each others names and go bizerk! She is coming with her lovely family, and a bottle of wine. We are all going to snuggle in front of the TV for my weekly ritual (over 4 years now) of movie night Friday and watch Frozen. The kids will pile up on each other on the blanket, my teenager will coo over baby P, while KS and I catch up and laugh the same way we always do. Sunday is Easter, and I get to spend the morning and afternoon with my babies, and then have a date with Rain while my kids go to their grandma’s. I am hoping this week brings nothing but happiness, and I am able to rest my poor body. I have many joyous things in my life right now. Many things to love and smile over. It was just a tough week… but I am a tough girl.

I got this.

She Knows What To Do…

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Dinner with my babies.

Amazing first date.

Amazing second date.

Fibro flare.

More fibro flare.

Offspring number three has surgery to remove nodule from hand.

This week has been a bit rough, yet amazing at the same time. Tonight I am sitting alone awake in the livingroom; one child on each couch, and one in my bed. I have considered going to bed multiple times, but my head is killing me. I don’t dare take more pain meds, because I do want to wake up tomorrow on time. I have many things to do, but I am not sure what I will accomplish. My right hand has been nearly useless and numb all week. It has ached and throbbed non stop. My shoulder, elbows, and hands are in constant pain. But I managed to do all of the above, and survive to tell the story.

Last week I received a message from a charming man who happened to grab my attention. He complimented my tattoos (like they all do) and insisted we talk. We exchanged random questions, and were acquainted quite fast. Within a few days we were texting. Then speaking on the phone.

“Are you awake? I want to hear your voice!”

Such a wonderful text to wake to, and to have someone respond so pleasantly to the achy sound of my morning voice is absolutely pleasant. I do want to clarify one thing before I continue: I am not really eager to push anything forward with my “Tie Man – AKA – Rain”, but he is pretty awesome. kissingcouplephotographysnowtreeswinter-6ed78a33a7c11af4110579968684e1aa_h_large I don’t see a long term romantic relationship with us, but if we can keep it as it’s going now, I know we will be great friends. We clicked immediately. Love the same shows, quotes, respond the same way in situations, and have the same jokes. Discovering this from 4 hour Skype calls (he lives 35 minutes away), a 7 hour first date, and an 8 hour second date. We speak every day – Text all day. He tells me about going out to the bar with his friends, and being the wingman for friends. He is honest about what he is doing, what happens when he is out, and I respect that. Tonight we spoke for almost two hours, mainly because his friend cancelled their night out. Offspring number three (who had surgery on her hand today – more on that later) got on the phone a few times as well. Because he was at my house a few nights ago, he has met my kids. I am not really the type to introduce someone so quickly, but there is something about him. Since my youngest cannot pronounce his name, they all call him “Rain”. We shall also call him Rain.

Tomorrow is going to be our official third date. We are going out to a piano bar, and I am actually quite excited. Rain is not really a drinker, so he is going to be my DD. I am hoping that my flare has let up a bit when we head out for the evening, but even if it has not, Rain is unusually attentive to my needs. A few nights ago when he was over I was having stabbing pains in my abdomen and he was very positively reactive. Asking if there was anything that he could do, and backing down when I let him know it would pass. He smiled at me and we continued on with our conversation. Each time it happened, he would make eye contact with me, ask if I was alright, and accept my answer. He did not panic, get upset, or bother me further about it. I am not sure if this is due to him being in the Army from the age of 18, or that he has been married twice. I find that he is oddly polite, caring, funny, and much like me. We will see if he has to offer the friendship I could very much use right now.

Today offspring number three had surgery on her hand. For a few years she has had a small bump on the inside of her thumb. We were told that it would likely just go away, and not to worry about it. I noticed that it was getting harder and harder, as well as obstructing the movement. Consulting a physician he agreed, as did the orthopedic surgeon he referred us to. So surgery was scheduled, and the nodule was to come out! Time to fix this lovely baby’s hand.

We were instructed to arrive at 7am, which was hard on my body, as well as the grumpy small children I had to dress at 6:30 this morning. I have been flaring all week long, and this morning was no different. My head ached, hands were killing me, and feet felt broken. Both knees throbbed, and I knew it was going to be a long day. sick-little-girl-hospital-bed-12171337 I was anxious about how she was going to do. If she was going to be ok, and if I was going to be ok. She is such a smart, lovely child and she immediately won the hearts of the entire staff. They were already giving her gifts left and right before she even went into the surgery. She was bouncy, silly, happy, and also angry with us. She was very concerned that she would not be able to watch what was going on with her hand during surgery, and that she had to sleep. When the Dr arrived her bouncing and happiness faded quickly. She crossed her arms, looked him right in the face and asked, “Are you going to put me to sleep and cut my hand open?” – Needless to say, this took the Dr off guard. The look on his face was priceless and in my weak and achy state, all I could do was laugh. Such a funny moment. A small (she is in the 10% for her height and weight for a 7 year old), smart little blond calling out a Dr, and making him explain the procedure before she went into surgery. It was amazing. I was so incredibly proud!! My baby. My girl. Going into surgery, and being more thorough than I ever expected. Then again, she is offspring number three. Notorious for being surprisingly beyond her years. My heart swelled as she glared at the Dr while he tried to avoid the question. Tried to distract her and dance around a direct answer; She was not having it. “Are you going to put me to sleep and CUT open my thumb to take out the bump?” – Finally he admitted the process when I explained that she was not going to back down until he told her. Once again… so proud. Love this baby.

She recovered well, and has dressing that needs to stay for the next week. She seems to be handling the pain and restrictions in stride, and was even playing video games earlier. It is funny because she understands that she needs to rest, partly because she related her surgery to the pain I feel every day. She informed the nurse that sometimes mommy gets really sick, so she knows what to do after her surgery. She knows that she will need kid medicine to control the pain, and she will need to rest. This both made me happy as well as sad. I am happy that she understands what is going on with me, but also upset that she KNOWS the basics of handling a painful situation due to my example. She followed suite, and was very good after coming home.

lit So tonight I am lounging.. watching Family Guy and trying to decide where I am going to sleep. Baby girl is on the love seat. Offspring 3 is on the couch. And last but not least, the teenager is on my bed. She loves my bed, and apparently she decided tonight she was going to sleep in it. Tomorrow is my official third date with Rain, and I know I should be sleeping. Writing this blog is making my hands ache, but I don’t care. My eyes are drifting off, but I somehow feel I need to complete this blog.

It may not make much sense, as I am blogging while on pain meds, and it is now 3am. I am exhausted, and probably a bit delirious. Don’t judge me…