At 3 A.M. I was awake and listening to the storm outside. It was raining so hard I could hear it pelting our roof and the windows, and the wind was making that rattling sound against the windows. I was the only one awake in the house. I couldn’t sleep because of the noise and because of the pain.
Mr. Rockstar was lying in bed lightly snoring. I kissed his forehead and got up out of the bed and headed to the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of milk and then checked my email. After checking my email, and then FB, posting something on FB, I opened my folder in MS Word and began writing. I’m working on a novel. I wrote for about an hour and then realized if I made coffee now then it would still be good when Mr. Rockstar woke up (his alarm is set for 4:30 but he usually hits the snooze button repeatedly until around 5). So I made a pot of coffee and went back to writing.
However, I kept getting up and stretching because of the pain. And my tooth began to hurt again. DAMN! All the complaining. Damn all the pain! Damn! Damn! Damn! I thought to myself. I hate complaining. I hate being in pain and I feel like I’m beginning to sound like a broken record. So I tell myself, “Be patient. Have some compassion for yourself. It’s not your fault you’re uterus is filled with tumors. It’s not your fault you don’t have insurance…” Then I think, “Ah, but it is. If I had a different job, or a real job… then I’d have benefits.” And I’m already hearing that from Mr. Rockstar, “Baby, I’m sorry I’m not doing a better job of taking care of you…” And I know that he’s already feeling down about the whole thing. So I try hard not to complain around him, I save the complaining for my writing–sorry, those of you who actually read my blog.
So I pour myself another cup of coffee and take 800mg of Moltrin. It won’t get rid of the tooth ache or the pain in my uterus completely, but it will ease it off. I listen to the sounds of the storm bellowing outside and go back to writing. I’m on page 27 of my novel (I’ve tried several times over the past month and I’ll get to about page 20-50 and realize it’s not really what I want, where I want to go… but this time I actually made an outline, and I actually have a character and plot diagram of sorts (thank goodness for index cards) so I feel good about it). I realize while I’m writing that I’ve let the pain get the better of me. I’m in pain most of the time, yes, but there’s more to my life than the pain. I’ve ostracized myself from outside activities because any time I do something, even something as simple as cleaning part of the house, if it requires actual physical activity like bending up and down, walking quite a bit, standing for awhile, etc then I’m all but incapacitated the next day. So I’ve begun to pace myself when it comes to cleaning or doing anything.
If I put off doing the things I want to do until after I have surgery, which won’t happen until we have health insurance, then I’ll be waiting…Waiting…WAITING my life away. I refuse to do that. I’m a doer, a go getter, a busy bee…I prefer to be doing something. This is wreaking havoc on me mentally, not just physically. So what to do? Hide from the world? Stay in the house except to go to the grocery store or to run errands. Visit family and friends on occasion. I can’t do that. I have a grandson that I need and want to spend time with. I have a family. I have friends. I have a life outside of this pain that I would really like to get back to. So what do I do?
I figure out ways to be happy and energetic while in pain. I remember to appreciate the small things. I look at all the blessings I have in my life and remind myself of those while I’m in pain. So I’ll continue to pretend to be okay even though I’m in pain until I can no longer stand it…that way Mr. Rockstar doesn’t realize how badly I hurt all the time, nor do others. This whole thing really irritates me because there are people out there who are able to have surgeries like the one I need with assistance even though they don’t have health insurance, yet I am unable to do so. And we’ve priced private health insurance and we simply cannot afford it. It’s to the point now where the best thing we could probably do is wait until the pain is so intense that I have no choice but to go the doctor again or back to the emergency room and maybe they’ll order an emergency hysterectomy and then we can just make payments to the hospital once it’s over. We’ll most likely be paying the bill for the rest of our lives but at least it would be done. It’s such a shame that a country such as the United States can spend so much money helping other countries but people in our own country are suffering.
- Happily Ever After: The Fairy Tale or Reality? (thelissachronicles.wordpress.com)
- First Light (thelissachronicles.wordpress.com)