Stop answering the question with a question.

So where were we. Something very disturbing happened to my body, something that told me something was wrong. Now its very gross so I won't be publicly explaining it to you, and for that one person wondering so desperately what it is or thinking it silly that I won't explains it because it may help someone else I have this to say; Those Doctors and Nurses told us at lest 8 different times what to watch for after the surgery, they explained what signs of infection were, what to worry about and what was fine. Those lovely people did not do any of those things to merely distract you and waste the time of all involved. They did not tell me over and over again because they thought it was fun and lastly, being paranoid has its advantages. Something they warned me could happen in fact did happen. Monday morning I called them, they promptly called me back and told me to come in that evening. 

The Doctor I saw that evening preformed surgery on me nearly ten years ago for an issue I will go into at a later post. We chatted, he remembered me, he was nicer then I remember. He gave me a very minor exam which was one of the most painful of my life, he agreed that I likely had an infection, gave me three scripts (antibiotic, pain and anti-anxiety) had them draw some blood and told me to call back on Wednesday (March 20th) for my results. 

I hate waiting for test results. I am not sure there is a person who actually enjoys the process but when you are trying to learn if there is something really wrong with you it seems to make the waiting worse. However day two of the antibiotic I was feeling less pain already and doing slightly better at work. We both made the right call and Wednesday was even better still. I was delighted at my ability to move not bringing on the most horrible pain. I still need pain medication to get through my whole work shift but I am not hobbling around when they ware off. So I called first thing Wednesday morning and waited so impatiently for a call back. By 4 pm I hadn't received one so I called and talked to the receptionist (like the automated voice told me to) and talked to the lovely nurse (whom I now talked to more often then any doctor) and she did not give me happy news, well it wasn't bad either it was more confused at the time. She told me my hormone levels were very high for having surgery over a week ago. She was going to talk to the doctor and call me back but if my levels were not dropping then I may need future surgery. 

That shattered my world, my emotional state had been (or so I thought) improving leaps and bounds with the help of this blog and an unhealthy amount of avoidance and denial. I walked circles in my living room near sobbing until my husband walked through the door which only brought on the sobbing. I was doing all I could to explain what she said and not break in his arms as I did so. My husband, as I am sure I have said, is the most loving and patient man when it comes to me. He calmed me down and kept reminding me that they didn't know. It helped for me to remember that I had never had blood work there prior to pregnancy so they had no clue what my normal level was. I am not sure if that came out from my husband or me between sobs. All I knew was that calm or crying I wanted nothing more in the world then for this all to be over. 

How the hell am I suppose to heal or even think of moving on or any of this is I have to keep going to the doctor about it. More needles, more pills, more waiting and agony. More emotional crap that is killing me. Of course I am terrified that this will hurt my marriage, I try so hard to be there for him and his needs but he just insists on being fine in front of me and supportive. I can still tell how this all effects him, the bitchy needy greedy pregnant women that he has to deal with at work are making him more angry then usual, I wonder if he desires to tell them to shut up and tell them how lucky they truly are because he gets to go home to a wife who lost their child. He has to be her rock as she tries not to fall apart. I wonder if he falls apart when I'm not there, even just a little, in his own way. I just hope that he doesn't keep this all bottled in, I hope that he is handling it in the only way he can and I hope that I am not a burden to him and making it harder. My husband is my world. 

I want to tell you one thing, right now I can't tell you why I was angry at him a month ago, six months ago, a year ago. It is amazing the perspective that has changed so dramatically. We have fought, most of it stupid, a lot about money because that is what couples do. Recently the only problem is one of us snapping at the other because we are very emotionally raw at the same time but we always apologize later and both understand why it happens and we don't hold on to it. It is horrible to say but I wish something had given me this perspective earlier in life, even if it was just to my husband. There are a million things that seem so stupid now and I never want to worry about them again. I hope more then anything else that this stays for both of us. We have struggled so much since we started dating that I hope we hold onto this one gift we've gotten from this horrible event. We still have each other and stupid shit doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, he matters, we matter.

I almost forgot something. Tuesday night I finally called my mother in law. I haven't spoken to her since I found out I was pregnant. Let me find you some context. I talk to her at lest once a month, well I try, sometimes more. I love my in laws, my husband has wonderful parents and I am blessed. I was convinced she was not thrilled when we started dating but she never said anything to my husband if she was (or he swore she never did) she works in the medical field and we both have a lot of medical issues. Her problems by far out weigh mine but she listens to me complain. I'd whoop ass for that lady. Anyway she was very sweet, she said she was worried but was waiting for me to call her and she knew I would when I was ready. I was finally ready, I didn't call her right away because talking to her would hurt, she cried when she found out I was pregnant and my husband cried when he told her I wasn't. She was nice enough to tell the rest of the family for us on the later. She wants grandkids as much as my husband wants kids but both of them are understanding enough to not push. They both have told me that if I decide I can't do it again then that is my decision. She caught me up on all the family stuff, her work and health. She listened to me and was supportive in a way I appreciate. She talked to me about how the doctor was right it was probably for the best but she knew that doesn't make it better. I see so much of her in my husband, she is such a blessing. His whole family is. I really couldn't have asked for better.

Lastly, earlier that Tuesday I got the best therapy of all. A friend from work send us boxes of cookies and chocolates in the mail. I cried because sometimes its all about knowing there is someone out there thinking of  you and wanting to try to make your day better if even just a small amount. She is amazing as a friend and when I thanked her in person she told me she didn't know what to say to me and I told her that what she said was perfect and exactly what I needed. In her own words she said, 'This sucks here's some chocolate' and sometimes that is all you need right?

Is that your final answer?

'Oh God, I'm so sorry.' It is the most common thing people say to us now, followed by 'I can't imagine what you are going through.' And their right, they can't. I couldn't, I could have never imagined this. I want to take back every time I have ever said to someone, I can imagine what you're going through, because so very honestly I can't. Even if you and I went through the same exact thing it would never be the same. How I respond, how I feel, how I rationalize, those are all my reactions and you may not feel the same so to say I can't imagine what you are going through is false because I can't. I cannot imagine how it is for a close friend of mine who fractured her foot. Her fracture is identical to the one I had but her pain is not the same, her reaction is not the same, her burden is different. So similar and so very different. So if you know me and I have ever said to you, I can imagine what you're going through then please accept my most humble apology because I now realize that I cannot.

Saturday my roommate took me out for a out of the house test run. He treated me to a haircut, I told the nice lady that I needed something different so she gave me a type of bob that after some getting use to I love it, it has to be the shortest my hair has been in at lest ten years if not longer. With something so tragic happening I wanted normal but I wanted vastly different. She used moose and everything, things I have decided that I will learn how to use because that looks a hell of a lot better then what it normally looks like. It was pleasant and needed. We went to the food store after and my ambition got the better of me to much walking proved to be painful and exhausting, I was anxious to leave and found myself short of temper with the clerk so I took my leave to sit and wait for my roommate to finish with him so we could go home and I back to my couch. 

I was still in a lot of pain but I don't get paid if I don't go back to work so I went back on Sunday. Less then a week from my surgery but I didn't really have a choice, we (barely) live paycheck to paycheck and I just lost an entire weeks pay and it is going to hurt but we will get through it like we always do, those are my husbands words not mine, but he is always right about that. Sunday came quick and early, I wake at 6 am to be at work before 7:30. Every morning I clock in, I put my stuff away in my locker, I take my coffee to my office and I turn on my music and I would dive into the first half of my job. I could not walk at the determined pace I was use to, I had my coffee but did not down is as quickly as I normally did, it took much longer to do anything including collect my thoughts and for the first time in a very long time my office was silent. 

Music to is lifeblood to me, I have loved it since I was a child and my Father played Black Sabbath, Kansas, Journey, George Thorogood, Foghat, Janis Joplin.... I am sure you get the picture. My Mother had her hand in it as well, she played me the Monkees, Disco Duck and classical music. Some I knew once said, Music is what Emotions sound like. It is one of the truest things I have ever heard. So for me to not listen to music is to tell all around me that I am without even a sliver of joy. Music is my hope and joy and I wanted none of it because it all made me even more sorrowful then I already was.

One of my bosses asked me how I was holding up and I could only respond that I wasn't at all, he wasn't surprised and I felt reassured by that. My job (I work retail) drags me all through out my store and commands much of my mind as it does my body. I am proud of my job and my work. I enjoy what I do, it allows me to lead and follow where I am comfortable. So I was unhappy that I cannot wear proper dress code because I cannot wear any pants that put pressure on my pelvic area. I cannot move fast enough to assist customers. I cannot preform my tasks in a timely manner and I need help with so much. Worst of all I could not manage a full five hour shift which is all I work. I had to leave 45 minuets early because I was in so much pain that sitting was caused gasps and whimpers and the pain medication wasn't curbing the pain enough.

I felt ashamed leaving which I am sure some find odd, I am still healing and should probably not be at work in the first place. This was the first hint that something was still wrong, it has been nearly a week and my pain was still very intense. Sunday night something very gross and very painful happened proving my point and that I most likely had a post operation infection. 

When it rains it pours.