June 5, 2009
We had, hm, let's call it a passionate heart to heart between Jeremy and me this morning. If you've been reading my blog lately you have probably picked up on the fact that I'm full of ideas right now. Jeremy, as my life partner, has been getting barraged with those ideas as of late. On the days that he works long hours, I have been sending him e-mails (numerous) about me opening businesses, taking trips, enrolling in classes, etc., etc. (My brother laughed at me recently asking if I was a little manic.) I can write about it with humor right now, but this morning when we "talked," it was a little more intense of a conversation.
It started when I was on the phone with my sister-in-law picking her brain about what starting a business is like and throwing out all kinds of ideas of my own. Jeremy was overhearing the conversation. When I hung up, I noticed that his brow was furrowed. "What's going on? What's wrong?" I opened the flood gates.
Jeremy and I are in very different places right now with what we need and want from life. Understandably so. While we have been navigating the storm together, we are still two very different people who react differently to crisis and stress. And really, let's face it, Jeremy's experiences the past year and a half were as the main support and as caretaker of me. I'm the one who had the life and death experiences. Yes, we went through it together, but there is no way we could expect to be the same place emotionally processing everything.
While I am excited about really living life now, Jeremy is needing stability and calm. And this morning we needed to spend some time hashing out what we both need from each other. It was a clarifying conversation. This is where I'm at, this is what I need, this is what I need from you. And this is where he's at, this is what he needs, and this is what he needs from me. I broke down sobbing at one point. I was just overwhelmed with the intensity of everything we both have been through.
So anyway. I wanted to write about this because I think it's an important part of getting through tragedy as a couple. Tragedy changes you; both of you. This morning as we talked, I could hear the conversation going other ways: "I just don't want what you want anymore." I could see how couples get through a tragedy together, but then end up separating. But what went through my mind as we reached that fork in the road in our conversation was, "This man loves me so much. And I love him deeply." I've always wanted to be with Jeremy first, everything else second. That has never changed. And yes, we finally reached the point in our conversation, "We're okay then?" "Yeah, we're okay."
I guess I was just struck today by the fact that you can get through the actual tragedy, but that doesn't mean you still aren't affected by it. There's still so much to sort through. But really, that's the way marriage is anyway, right? It just seems more intense when you're exhausted.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Oh the possibilities!
June 4, 2009
The sky was cotton candy tonight. I'm home alone this evening as Jeremy's working late. I met with Dr. N for what may be my final therapy session with him after running home to let Django out after work. Dr. N said he thinks I'm doing well (as do I). We aren't going to schedule any more sessions. I can see him or talk to him on an as needed basis. He said I could go off my anti-depressants in a few months. Actually, he said that if I wanted to try to go off them now I could, and just start taking them again if I felt I needed to. Statistically the six month period after a depression has ended is a time that one is more vulnerable to another episode, so that's why doctors suggest staying on antidepressants for six months (for people who have had more than one episode of depression but longer periods of time between the episodes). I think I'll stay on it just to be safe. Why mess with a good thing, right?
I'm sort of tired about talking about my recovery. I feel like I'm recovered. I don't see myself as a sick person any more. I see myself as me, but different. Better - smile.
I'm excited about the possibilities that life has for me. I feel so freed up. No more internal need to prove myself. It's time to enjoy myself and enjoy life. I'm just going to hit the "stop" button on the tape that starts playing; "But that's selfish Abby." It's not selfish. I want to feel happy and alive and to do the things that make me feel that way. I believe ultimately that's what God wants for us too - joy. (Or maybe I'm putting that on God to justify what I'm feeling! Maybe he/she really does want that for us, but I'm saying it now because it fits my purpose! Oops. Probably not a good thing to do. Sorry.)
Anyway . . . I cancelled my dilation that was scheduled for tomorrow because I don't think I need it. That means I have a free day ahead of me as I'm not working Fridays right now. If I go a good couple of months with only needing a dilation or two, I'm going to go back to working Fridays again. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy the free Fridays that I do have! Oh the possibilities of a free day!!
The sky was cotton candy tonight. I'm home alone this evening as Jeremy's working late. I met with Dr. N for what may be my final therapy session with him after running home to let Django out after work. Dr. N said he thinks I'm doing well (as do I). We aren't going to schedule any more sessions. I can see him or talk to him on an as needed basis. He said I could go off my anti-depressants in a few months. Actually, he said that if I wanted to try to go off them now I could, and just start taking them again if I felt I needed to. Statistically the six month period after a depression has ended is a time that one is more vulnerable to another episode, so that's why doctors suggest staying on antidepressants for six months (for people who have had more than one episode of depression but longer periods of time between the episodes). I think I'll stay on it just to be safe. Why mess with a good thing, right?
I'm sort of tired about talking about my recovery. I feel like I'm recovered. I don't see myself as a sick person any more. I see myself as me, but different. Better - smile.
I'm excited about the possibilities that life has for me. I feel so freed up. No more internal need to prove myself. It's time to enjoy myself and enjoy life. I'm just going to hit the "stop" button on the tape that starts playing; "But that's selfish Abby." It's not selfish. I want to feel happy and alive and to do the things that make me feel that way. I believe ultimately that's what God wants for us too - joy. (Or maybe I'm putting that on God to justify what I'm feeling! Maybe he/she really does want that for us, but I'm saying it now because it fits my purpose! Oops. Probably not a good thing to do. Sorry.)
Anyway . . . I cancelled my dilation that was scheduled for tomorrow because I don't think I need it. That means I have a free day ahead of me as I'm not working Fridays right now. If I go a good couple of months with only needing a dilation or two, I'm going to go back to working Fridays again. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy the free Fridays that I do have! Oh the possibilities of a free day!!
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
The gates of hell
June 3, 2009
As I was driving in to work this morning the "Hospital" sign caught my eye. "Yeah, that's probably the closest hospital to us," I thought, "but it's not the one I go to." And then I was back to April 29, 2008, the night we had to call the ambulance to come and get me. I had been home just five days after a month long hospitalization and delivered Harper just a few days before. The EMT asked where I wanted to go. I told him UMC. "They're really busy tonight mam. It'll be a long wait," he said. "I don't care. I just spent a month there. They know me." He said he understood and off we went, me strapped down to the gurney, afraid my bowels would let loose more blood on the ride there. Afraid I would lose consciousness again (which I did two or three more times after getting to the ER). Afraid I would die.
Wow, that was over a year ago now. Still the thoughts of it make my heart race and my fists clench. I thought about where I was a year ago today. I was back at home recovering from my colectomy, learning to cope with an ostomy bag. Those were such dark days. I could barely get off the couch. I broke down a couple times each day sobbing, telling Jeremy I just wanted to die, telling him if he was going to leave me I wouldn't blame him, and wouldn't he just do it now to get it over with?
But here I am now. I'm okay. I'm better than okay. I'm at peace. I feel alive. I'm living life. And I desperately want people who are in that dark place to know that you can get through it. And I wonder what will happen in my future that will cause me to look back on this time in my life for inspiration? What darkness lies ahead that I will have to pull through and remind myself that I can indeed pull through it? I was listening to Tom Petty sing "I won't back down, no I won't back down. You can stand me up at the gates of hell but I won't back down." I almost giggled inside thinking about the fact that I did not back down. I wanted to. Yes I wanted to - plenty of times. But I didn't. I kept going. You can stand me up at the gates of hell, but I won't back down.
I started thinking about all the people in my life who are struggling. We all have our own private hells to go through. Every single one of us. And every hell might be different, but they are all hell nonetheless. And we can help each other through it. We can inspire each other, comfort each other, and encourage each other, so long as we don't judge each other's hell. At that moment I got chills. Sometimes when I'm thinking about something that feels like truth to me, I get this visceral response. It's like my physical being is acknowledging the truth. This morning I felt that in thinking about the connections we have with each other in our humanity. I feel it all the time these days.
As I was driving in to work this morning the "Hospital" sign caught my eye. "Yeah, that's probably the closest hospital to us," I thought, "but it's not the one I go to." And then I was back to April 29, 2008, the night we had to call the ambulance to come and get me. I had been home just five days after a month long hospitalization and delivered Harper just a few days before. The EMT asked where I wanted to go. I told him UMC. "They're really busy tonight mam. It'll be a long wait," he said. "I don't care. I just spent a month there. They know me." He said he understood and off we went, me strapped down to the gurney, afraid my bowels would let loose more blood on the ride there. Afraid I would lose consciousness again (which I did two or three more times after getting to the ER). Afraid I would die.
Wow, that was over a year ago now. Still the thoughts of it make my heart race and my fists clench. I thought about where I was a year ago today. I was back at home recovering from my colectomy, learning to cope with an ostomy bag. Those were such dark days. I could barely get off the couch. I broke down a couple times each day sobbing, telling Jeremy I just wanted to die, telling him if he was going to leave me I wouldn't blame him, and wouldn't he just do it now to get it over with?
But here I am now. I'm okay. I'm better than okay. I'm at peace. I feel alive. I'm living life. And I desperately want people who are in that dark place to know that you can get through it. And I wonder what will happen in my future that will cause me to look back on this time in my life for inspiration? What darkness lies ahead that I will have to pull through and remind myself that I can indeed pull through it? I was listening to Tom Petty sing "I won't back down, no I won't back down. You can stand me up at the gates of hell but I won't back down." I almost giggled inside thinking about the fact that I did not back down. I wanted to. Yes I wanted to - plenty of times. But I didn't. I kept going. You can stand me up at the gates of hell, but I won't back down.
I started thinking about all the people in my life who are struggling. We all have our own private hells to go through. Every single one of us. And every hell might be different, but they are all hell nonetheless. And we can help each other through it. We can inspire each other, comfort each other, and encourage each other, so long as we don't judge each other's hell. At that moment I got chills. Sometimes when I'm thinking about something that feels like truth to me, I get this visceral response. It's like my physical being is acknowledging the truth. This morning I felt that in thinking about the connections we have with each other in our humanity. I feel it all the time these days.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Anticipation
June 2, 2009
I feel like I'm in this constant state of anticipation lately. I'm expecting something; some opportunity or change to come. I feel more open to possibilities now than I ever have been before. I think that's a good thing. It seems to me that means I'm not afraid any more. Maybe what I'm feeling is just the absence of fear? But it seems more than that. It's about my priorities falling in to place too. All these standards that I felt like I was trying to meet before just don't matter to me any more. It's so freeing. It's not that I don't care, it's that I understand in the core of my being what I should be caring about.
I feel like I'm in this constant state of anticipation lately. I'm expecting something; some opportunity or change to come. I feel more open to possibilities now than I ever have been before. I think that's a good thing. It seems to me that means I'm not afraid any more. Maybe what I'm feeling is just the absence of fear? But it seems more than that. It's about my priorities falling in to place too. All these standards that I felt like I was trying to meet before just don't matter to me any more. It's so freeing. It's not that I don't care, it's that I understand in the core of my being what I should be caring about.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Lost (not the show)
June 1, 2009
I keep having this dream. Last night was at least the third time in the last month or two that I've had this same dream. I'm somewhere in a city (I think it was Minneapolis last night), and I'm trying to get somewhere else, but I keep getting lost. I ask for help, and people tell me where I am, but no one can really tell me how to get where I need to go. Last night I was roller-skating through the city. I almost got hit by a car a couple of times. My heart was beating so fast as I tried to keep up enough strength and speed to get where I needed to go. When I found a good pace I got excited and thought that I was almost there, only to realize I was lost again. A couple of times I felt like my legs wouldn't move the way I wanted them to and I had to learn how to roller-skate in a different way. It was really exhausting.
Okay, so writing out this dream it seems obvious to me that the dream is a metaphor for my life. I just want to cry because I'm so tired of trying to figure out what the next thing is that I should do; what the right thing is for me to do. And I really do feel lost. Not lost in the present, but lost in the future - if that makes any kind of sense.
I went to see Dr. G today, my GI doctor. When I told him that I hadn't given up hope on the dilations he basically said that not a lot of research has been done about the efficacy of dilations, but that usually people get impatient and want to have surgery done to get it over with. He said he has a patient like that right now, but that patient also WANTS his ostomy back, so he's not worried about having the surgery. Anyway, he said that it could be that with more time the dilations will take.
As Jeremy and I were sitting there talking about it with him, we realized that it's been since almost two months since I really needed a dilation (needed meaning I was in some pain from the stricture). Things have closed up a little on me since then, but it's been bearable. So I felt really good about that.
As far as the chronic pouchitis goes, Dr. G said that if chronic pouchitis can be treated with Cipro, he would recommend doing that, not surgery. He said that if a treatment is working that's what he suggests (makes sense -right?). I asked him about rotating antibiotics with the Cipro. He said that he thinks it's better to stay on one antibiotic, especially if it's working. He said yes, long term your body can get bugs that are resistant to the Cipro, but there are also meds they have now that can treat those bugs too. So that made me feel good as well. I'm currently taking 1000 mg of Cipro a day. He said that for long term treatment, he would recommend trying to go down on the dosage over time and try to get it at 250 mg a day if possible, but it was Dr. T who prescribed the Cipro, and he wasn't going to change her prescription - he was just giving me his input (because I asked).
All in all I told him I've been feeling good. He said sometimes people can look good and they are really very sick, but he didn't think that was true of me. He said I looked good and he was happy to see that. He also said that it seems like the people who were the sickest when they had their surgeries are also the ones who have the most complications, and that I was really sick. He said he'd see me again in 6 months!
I came away feeling very hopeful that I will be able to avoid surgery #4 (and surgery #5 - ileostomy takedown #2). Jeremy was happy about it too, but said that he has to stay prepared mentally for me needing another surgery. It's too much of a punch in the gut for him to hope that I won't need surgery and then find out I do. I told him that I totally understand that and that I don't feel unsupported by him for taking that stance at all. I told him that I need him to be grounded like that. I look to him for that. I think we balance each other out beautifully, and I need that.
So that's where things are today. I'm still holding out hope!
I keep having this dream. Last night was at least the third time in the last month or two that I've had this same dream. I'm somewhere in a city (I think it was Minneapolis last night), and I'm trying to get somewhere else, but I keep getting lost. I ask for help, and people tell me where I am, but no one can really tell me how to get where I need to go. Last night I was roller-skating through the city. I almost got hit by a car a couple of times. My heart was beating so fast as I tried to keep up enough strength and speed to get where I needed to go. When I found a good pace I got excited and thought that I was almost there, only to realize I was lost again. A couple of times I felt like my legs wouldn't move the way I wanted them to and I had to learn how to roller-skate in a different way. It was really exhausting.
Okay, so writing out this dream it seems obvious to me that the dream is a metaphor for my life. I just want to cry because I'm so tired of trying to figure out what the next thing is that I should do; what the right thing is for me to do. And I really do feel lost. Not lost in the present, but lost in the future - if that makes any kind of sense.
I went to see Dr. G today, my GI doctor. When I told him that I hadn't given up hope on the dilations he basically said that not a lot of research has been done about the efficacy of dilations, but that usually people get impatient and want to have surgery done to get it over with. He said he has a patient like that right now, but that patient also WANTS his ostomy back, so he's not worried about having the surgery. Anyway, he said that it could be that with more time the dilations will take.
As Jeremy and I were sitting there talking about it with him, we realized that it's been since almost two months since I really needed a dilation (needed meaning I was in some pain from the stricture). Things have closed up a little on me since then, but it's been bearable. So I felt really good about that.
As far as the chronic pouchitis goes, Dr. G said that if chronic pouchitis can be treated with Cipro, he would recommend doing that, not surgery. He said that if a treatment is working that's what he suggests (makes sense -right?). I asked him about rotating antibiotics with the Cipro. He said that he thinks it's better to stay on one antibiotic, especially if it's working. He said yes, long term your body can get bugs that are resistant to the Cipro, but there are also meds they have now that can treat those bugs too. So that made me feel good as well. I'm currently taking 1000 mg of Cipro a day. He said that for long term treatment, he would recommend trying to go down on the dosage over time and try to get it at 250 mg a day if possible, but it was Dr. T who prescribed the Cipro, and he wasn't going to change her prescription - he was just giving me his input (because I asked).
All in all I told him I've been feeling good. He said sometimes people can look good and they are really very sick, but he didn't think that was true of me. He said I looked good and he was happy to see that. He also said that it seems like the people who were the sickest when they had their surgeries are also the ones who have the most complications, and that I was really sick. He said he'd see me again in 6 months!
I came away feeling very hopeful that I will be able to avoid surgery #4 (and surgery #5 - ileostomy takedown #2). Jeremy was happy about it too, but said that he has to stay prepared mentally for me needing another surgery. It's too much of a punch in the gut for him to hope that I won't need surgery and then find out I do. I told him that I totally understand that and that I don't feel unsupported by him for taking that stance at all. I told him that I need him to be grounded like that. I look to him for that. I think we balance each other out beautifully, and I need that.
So that's where things are today. I'm still holding out hope!
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