Vibes

A month ago I went in to hospital to have my hernia repaired.

It was supposed to be day surgery but I packed a bag in case.

Juffin would say that I'm a pessimist but I'm actually a realist.  I've been to hospital many times before.

My hernia was much larger than they thought, no shock to me.  I was under for several hours and spent the afternoon feeling pretty fucking miserable in the planned procedure unit... which is not meant for overnight stay but apparently there were no beds. I had two drains because of the hole left behind after they stuffed my bowel and small intestine back where it was supposed to be.

I stayed there for two days.

At this point I would like to make an observation, please be nice to nurses. They're not arseholes sent to fuck with you, they're just doing their damn job and trying to look after you.  Don't be a dick.

I had sporadic phone reception, one book that I'd finished and no TV.  I was literally starting at the walls.  Juffin was busy kid wrangling and because I couldn't really reach anyone, and had no idea how long I would be there, I didn't reach out for entertainment.  It was the longest two days of my life.

Upon my return home, I realised how much fun it is recovering from major surgery with two children who constantly want to be on you and pull the tube that is still hanging out of your guts.

Yes.  I had to go home with a drain.

The following week I start to feel shady as shit.

I spend Tuesday night in a fever soaked delirium whilst also trying to deal with my teething 15 month old.  Life is good..

On Wednesday, the day my Mum arrives, 9 days after operation, the acute care Nurse who's been visiting me at home, tells me that I look like crap and if my temperature doesn't decrease I should go to the hospital.  After midday Juffin tells me it's time after taking my temperature and it's somewhere in the high 37's.  I text Mum and tell her we're going to Emergency and throw a book, nightie and undies in my bag.  Lucky.

In triage my temperature is 38.9.

Time to invest in a new thermometer.

I spend a few hours in ED, then the Short Stay Unit where I go to have a CT scan, then onto SCDU which means something like surgical criticial decisions unit or some such rubbish.  They're not sure if they need to open me back up see....

I'm taken up there pretty late, around 10ish or something, and the old dude they park me next to gets all ornery and keeps yelling out 'NURSE!  KEEP IT DOWN'.  Oh the irony.  He snores and wakes up frequently asking for coffee/orange juice/sandwiches at regular intervals.  He's an arsehole. If I hadn't been feeling so crap, I would have told him to keep it fucking down.

I spend another night in feverish delirium with Doctor's coming to see me as my temperatures spikes again up near the 39 mark.  I have cold sweats and then shiver uncontrollably.  It's pretty rubbish.

The next day I see my lovely surgeon again who asks me what the hell is going on, I joke and tell him he should have done his job properly so I don't have to be there again.  He puts me on hella IV antibiotics and I get the good drugs and am told I don't need to have more surgery, just need to rest, rehydrate and kill all the bad bugs.

I spend the rest of my time up on Surgical Ward One, in, get this, MY OWN FUCKING ROOM.  I was stoked.  The SCDU nurses said it was because I'm such a good patient, but I think it's because that's all they had, see?!  Realist.

I go home five days later, with the drain still in, yes, I hate that fucking drain.  My Mum is here, Juffin is best fiance/baby daddy ever, and my friends and work colleagues have sent flowers, food, chocolate...

Fast forward to today and I'm feeling beyond defeated.

I had my drain out 12 days ago and was feeling pretty good.

Now I'm not.  I went to my GP this morning as my guts has swollen up again and is tender AF, my legs are aching, I feel fatigued, dizzy spells, I'm not sleeping well and get up 4 times a night... things have gone downhill, again. GP recommended another 2 weeks off work and more rest but here's the kicker, Juffin got a job!  Yes!  And we're so fricking excited and proud of him but he starts next week and I can't look after the kids on my own and my MIL is away. I'm working on shuffling things around but he'll have to drop the kids off at daycare at 6.15 as he has to be at work by 7.  

I need to get better.  I'm sick of feeling like crap.  I'm over Juffin having to do everything while I roll around looking on and feeling helpless.  I feel like a useless turd.  This was supposed to be a day procedure and here I am a month later still feeling like absolute shit.  If I watch any more Netflix I will turn into the Cable Guy.  

Look I know I need to put things in perspective and I know that I need to stop feeling so sorry for myself but I'm currently spending most of my time on the couch watching Mad Men or in bed watching Mad Men and I could really do with some good healthy, healing vibes at the moment.  

And cigarettes.

And Canadian Club.

Ok, maybe not the cigarettes but yes to the Canadian Club.

Leaving hospital for the second time...

Hard

What's that song? That saying?  Nobody said life would be easy, but nobody said it'd be this fricking hard either...  have I got that right?  I can't remember.  My brain is addled from lack of sleep, which is not children related for once, but stress induced insomnia.  

I love insomnia. 

Especially stress induced insomnia.  It's awesome.  I feel so well rested and able to face any challenges that life throws at me.... 

Due to circumstances beyond our control, we are now a one income family. 

My income. 

I only work 24 hours a week so there is not much income INCOMING... see what I did there?  

In fact our bills exceed my income so we are officially up shits creek. 

I have cried so many tears in the last three weeks that I've had to increase my water consumption so I don't get dehydrated. 

I fake smile so much that I can't remember how to smile properly and my face hurts.  

When people ask me how I am, I brightly say 'great' through gritted teeth and move on, because they don't really care anyway. 

It's getting really hard to 'be positive' and 'look on the brightside' when bananas are almost $4 a kg and my kids eat 4 kg a week and people complain to me about how expensive the cost of living is these days as they're sipping their $5.50 takeaway latte and I'm nodding along thinking how the fuck am I going to afford to buy food next week? That latte they're drinking is 1.25kg of bananas!  

To make matters worse, or better, I finally have a date for my surgery.  It's the week after next.  Hooray you say, and hooray I say but fuck!  Could the timing be any bloody worse?!    

On one hand, I really need Juffin to be home to look after me so him not working at the moment is a bit great, but on the other, I really need him to find work so we're not destitute and starving! Can you say catch 22?  Truth be told, in my current state, I could serve to starve for a few days, but my kids, my kids don't need to starve at all.  They need their bananas.  For the love of bananas! 

Surgery also requires recovery time. I really need to take the time and heal properly after this surgery. Which means no kid wrangling, washing, driving etc... I literally just have to lay around which is fine for a day or two but when you have small children, supremely difficult but I have never had proper recovery time after any of my multiple operations and I don't want to have a repeat of this shithouse experience.  

On top of all this drama we've been battling snot monster Molly who has started throwing tantrums already and koalas Juffin 24/7 and a defiant, ignorant Mushroom who won't do as he's told or listen to a damn word either of us say.  To counteract said ignorance, I yell, A lot and it seems to fall on even deafer ears and then I get super mad and my head almost explodes.  I must sound like a total psychopath to my neighbours.  Especially when I'm shouting, "get your fingers out of your bum it's not for playing!" at the top of my lungs. Really feeling like a stellar parent when that needs to be said more than one f-ing time.     

This week I've been plagued with the beginnings of a bad cold and I'm thoroughly sick to death of the shitshow that is my life.  My patience has worn so thin that you can actually see through it.  It's almost non-existent.  I will snap at the tiniest thing.  

So please universe. I would actually just really appreciate it if we could just get a break from the bad juju for a little while... say 45 years? That would be fantastic.  

We still have coffee, and that mountain of washing has been folded and put away.  So there.  

36

I'm not a nice person.

Or a very good friend.

I spend a lot of time quietly despising myself for being jealous of my friend's successes.

Don't get me wrong, I know that they worked hard to get where they are, they sacrificed for their success, they toughed it out.

I just can't seem to get over the feeling that I'm woefully inadequate compared to pretty much everyone I know.

This is both depressing, and fucking pathetic.

I spent the better part of last week crying because a) I got my period and that is total and utter shit these days, b) with my period comes hormonal almost migraines which render me angry and drained, and c) I got the email from my online college telling me that time I had to complete my course had expired, and d) I had a birthday coming up and who can be excited about being one year older when they've achieved nothing.

I'm thoroughly sick of myself.

I hate feeling like this and I hate comparing myself to everyone else.

I also hate that I can't seem to do anything about it.

I don't honestly know how to move forward.

I think I've literally felt like this my entire adult life and that's awful.

I spend a lot of time wishing for things to be different but not actually doing anything about it.

It's exhausting.

Maybe I read too many books when I was a kid. My life is certainly not as exciting as Anne Shirley's or Trixie Belden's.  Disney deserves a mention too while we're at it...  And Ann M. Martin circa Babysitters Club fame!

I know that I have absolutely nothing to complain about, I have a great job, friends, supportive family, loving partner, healthy kids, roof over my head... what's wrong with me?!  I'm 36.  I had a fabulous birthday, I was feeling really good and then today, it hit me again.  I just keep thinking that there has to be more... but is there?  Is there more?  Do I need professional help?  How can I break this cycle of self loathing and ineptitude? I feel like I'm letting my family down because I'm constantly thinking that we're doing it wrong.  But we're not... are we?  This is just life right?  It doesn't have to be extraordinary...

First world problems?  Am I right?

36

I don't know what the point of this post is.

Or why I have a blog at all really.

I guess it just makes me feel better to write it all down and overshare on the internet.  Insert grimace face emjoi here.