Another "surgical" procedure...

...is coming up for me...Friday I'm having the more radical one done on my back...it leaves holes about the size of a small soda straw (the last one did anyway and he said this one would be the same) and my back felt like I'd been hit by a truck for a little over a week).

Last time they used anesthesia on the nerves...neural cortexes I think they were called? They're on each side of my abdomen at any rate, and they go in from my back under x-ray guidance. Well, that didn't work. I had minor (very minor) relief for about 6 days, then the pain returned full-force, as did the cramps and spasms.

So this time they're going to cauterize the nerves with alcohol. Usually they only do this on terminal patients...but its gotten to the point where the gal who NEVER wears makeup, even to work, is now wearing full makeup and still can't hide the shadows under her eyes. I'm not sleeping and I've dropped down to 116 pounds...and of course ALL the weight loss is showing in my face, not my ass...and before ya'll say they're interchangeable...someone else already beat you to the punch LOL. So I have a lot more wrinkles and bags under my eyes, and the left side of my face tics almost constantly (had a TIA in 97 and I get facial tics on the left side ever since when I'm really tired). I'm having a lot of trouble eating and I'm so tired and cranky and...well anyway.

I'm praying the outcome will be at least a noticeable reduction in my pain. There is a risk that since the alcohol won't be selective, I could experience weakness in my legs for several months, up to and including losing the use of my legs as far as walking or standing would go. They've assured me that if this happens, it'll only be temporary. The ONLY reason I'm even going to risk it is because this is a very small chance, and I've got to do something.

The only other thing they can do if this doesn't work is an implant and/or narcotics. The implant isn't guaranteed either...and honestly, I don't think I want a pager-sized hunk of metal in my butt. I'm lumpy enough as it is.

I've really tried not to post too much about this, because you guys don't need to see "Kandy's under the weather...Kandy's depressed...Kandy's crying..." all the time. My doctors still can't believe I'm even working. When my abdomen spasms, you can see a lump stand out on my belly, all the way across, roughly rectangular-shaped (with rounded edges though) that's about 6 inches long by 3-4 inches high. The spasms happen at least a dozen times a day, if not more. They double me over and I can't breathe.

A minor improvement would be spectacular news to me. I'm more nervous than I thought I'd be. I can deal with the post-procedural pain...but having the relief last longer than the post-pain this time would be a nice bonus. I guess I just don't want to be disappointed again.

Why am I in so much pain? Let's see...just in case I never blogged about it before, I'll try to tell it in a nutshell.

I had 80% of my liver removed last year...March 6, 2006 to be exact. The tumor in said liver was the size of a soccer ball and weighed 3.6 pounds. They had to break two ribs to get it out intact. The tumor had been encapsulated by my body, which was a darned good thing since they estimate I'd had it for 12-15 years and it being encapsulated kept it from spreading. I was supposed to be in the hospital for one surgery and 5 days max. I ended up being there for 45 days, and they told my husband and mother to prepare for funeral arrangements. During those 45 days, I was only allowed sustenance (food or liquid "meals") for 3 days. The rest of the time I had "feeding" through IV lines. I had to have new IV's every day, sometimes every 6-12 hours, because my veins kept blowing. To this day drawing a tube of blood from me takes several sticks due to the damage my veins incurred last year. I weighed 172 pounds on March 6, 2006. When I came home from the hospital I weighed 111 pounds. I got back up to around 122 until recently, when the pain and sleep loss started making me drop again.

On top of all that, my liver regrew wrong. The liver doesn't regrow in the shape of a normal liver, as I incorrectly assumed. Mine regrew along the path of least resistance, and then kept going. My internal organs were pushed down and around, up to the right, twisting my diaphragm and causing my right lung to be partially collapsed. I have serious shortness of breath all the time, and if I bend over for too long, I black out. I can't bend over to tie my own shoes, much less take care of my toenails.

How do I keep going? Heck if I know. I try to be as positive as possible...not too easy for a bipolar gal...but I do try. I honestly believe working gives me a purpose, and helps keep me from being TOO depressed. Lately though, I'm getting worse, and I see it, and I hate being this way, I really do. I hate who I am...who I'm becoming...I hate what my life has become. This makes me feel even worse because God blessed me and gave my life back to me last year, when I literally saw a vision of hell the night I almost died in the hospital.

So there's my story, and lest you think its all doom and gloom, I really am grateful to be here. It just gets harder and harder to remembber WHY I'm so grateful when all I can think about is how much pain I'm in, how much sleep I'm NOT getting, and how hard its getting to even get through the day when I'm NOT working, much less when I am.

OK...pity party is over.

I need a vacation

I really do! I was really questioning taking the CSM position before I took it, and I've wondered this past week if God is letting me know I made the wrong decision. Justin doesn't think so, but I'm not so sure.

Today was just...awful. I teared up several times because I was just so MAD. I knew that I'd be working Money Center more than CSM this week. I have no problems with that. The problem I have is the same one...being pulled off learning CSM stuff in order to, for instance, SCRUB GARBAGE CANS. Two other CSM's knew how pissed off I was just from the look on my face, so I'm NOT doing a good job controlling my facial expressions. They couldn't believe I was told to scrub garbage cans. For the record, I never did scrub them...couldn't find a brush and I wasn't going to use my hands.

Then, the cousin of a girl I had a "run-in" with on Monday about a return I approved on Friday told a CSM that I was telling cashiers to straighten up or I was going to fire them. I was told to "watch what you say." I finally had enough and said I was NOT going to watch what I say, because I never said I was going to fire anyone, even in jest. I got so mad over it I was ready to do a complaint against both cashiers (the cousins, that is). I decided to be the bigger person, and I'm just going to ignore it for now. I documented it though, and if the first one disrespects me again, I WILL write her up, and start a paper trail. I'm sick and tired of people saying I've said things that I haven't said.

There is a definite campaign going on to get me in trouble. I know the ringleaders, and I know why. A lot of it is resentment because I got CSM. I believe its the same ones who spread the tale to my old manager that I was going around telling everyone I was going to be the next CSM, when I never said THAT either. That didn't work, so now they're trying this. Management told me to take it in stride, that people are going to continually talk. I get that, I really do...but they (management) need to HELP me in this, by taking any accusation that's proven unfounded and coaching the accuser. If they make a few "gossip examples" maybe it wouldn't be so incredibly rampant. I've never known a workplace to be so full of gossipmongers and to have such an active rumor mill.

I hate griping all the time...but ya know, I'm in so much pain the past couple days, and I'm not sleeping (without taking a xanaflex for the pain anyway) and I'm so...well I just have such a short fuse. This is NOT me. I want to just go back to Money Center, but I get a real sense of enjoyment out of the few CSM duties I've been allowed to perform so far. Saturday night, I KNOW I was a real asset to the company because I stayed late when we had only 1 CSM and I ran my feet off helping her out.

Days like today though...I really do get very frustrated. I pray that after my procedure, I have a better mood and temperament...please Lord, PLEASE let this procedure give me some relief! I'm so tired of being ... well mean all the time...

Just shoot me!

UGH. I'm so tired its not even funny. I've been training for CSM this week, and I can think of more pleasant experiences...such as having teeth pulled. I kid you not, the whole thing has been so unorganized its not even funny. It took WEEKS for them to get their acts together and get the offer out there, and then another week and a half to actually get me in the computer...SO I was borrowing other CSM's numbers just to do my job...when I was allowed to do it.

Take yesterday for instance. I was SUPPOSED to work the book all morning. Instead, the CSM training me had me doing all the tasks that cashiers should have been doing...getting ready for inventory. At one point I was cleaning out from under bookshelves (let me tell you, it was NASTY) while 3 or 4 cashiers stood around flapping their jaws. I didn't do ANYTHING resembling a CSM's job. I ran cash registers all day and cleaned and scrubbed. I learned NOTHING and was very very close to walking out and telling them where they could stick their promotion.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind doing these things that need to be done...I'm humble enough to understand that we all pitch in when we're needed. I had two problems with what happened yesterday:
1. I was supposed to be training, and learned NOTHING new, and am expected to be trained within a week...and had been training since Monday and still knew nothing much at all.
2. There were cashiers standing around goofing off when they could have been doing the busy work that I was doing, and *I* could have been learning.

I feel like I wasn't utilized in the way I could/should have been, and it irritated me to no end. I left work in tears and so pissed off that I'm surprised I kept my mouth shut long enough to leave without quitting.

Today was much better, but everything is sore and I'm tired. I have a tension headache and just want to go to bed for a week. I had fun though, other than the expected run-ins with some of the cashiers who are disgruntled that I'm going to be "over" them now. Oh well. As time goes on, it'll get better.

A little better?

I guess I'm a little better today. Thanks to those of you who are praying and thinking of me. I'm tired, but there's a glimmer of light at the end of this tunnel. I've decided not to do the implant at this time...and I'm debating the alcohol procedure. One of the risks, if the alcohol goes where they don't want it to, is weakness in the legs and thus, inability to walk or stand. It goes away after a few months, but STILL. Something to think about.

I just feel like I'm spiraling out of control in a downwards direction. I need a vacation...a break. Justin may get to go back to Vegas in September, and if he does, he said he'll be able to take me. It may be just what I...and we...need.

As for CSM...I had my second interview today, and again, it went well. My manager said she'd announce it tomorrow, but when she fixed my schedule for this coming week, she did it with "training shifts" in mind, so that gives me great hope. Still...nothing is definite, and I won't allow myself to get my hopes up too much. I just don't want to go down that road again.

And to be honest...do I even REALLY want it? I like working in Money Center. I think what I'll talk to her about is the possibility of going back to Money Center if I get CSM and don't think its a good fit within a certain amount of time. I doubt they'll do that, but if they would, it'd be nice. I'm very good in Money Center.

Its so hard to get excited about anything at this point...but I *think* CSM would be a smart move for me, even if I have to cut my hours. I may NEED to cut my hours...this added strain of working in constant pain probably has a lot to do with my emotional and mental stability.

Just a bunch of crap

Title says a lot.

Pain sucks. I'm getting more and more depressed and angry at the world, and I find myself isolating myself from family, friends, life. I don't want to be here anymore. At all. I can't remember WHY I should be grateful God worked a miracle in my life. I don't want my husband to touch me. I'm just pissed off in general, and at life especially.

I saw Dr. Jolly today...he wants to do the more radical alcohol procedure...or an implant. I'm not sure how I feel about either. I cried almost the entire trip down, and almost the entire visit, and almost the entire way home, and even while I was walking through Wal-Mart afterwards getting a few things I needed. Everyone was looking at the crazy lady walking down the household cleaners aisle sobbing her heart out.

I hate where I'm at. I'm even having trouble finding any joy in my children. Justin took my hand today and said he loved me...out of the blue, and all I could say in return was "I honestly don't think there's anything about me to love," and pulled my hand away from him. I don't want him to touch me. I don't want my kids to hug me. I hate...me.

Migraine? Or not?

Well fun day at work today...I'm going to go to the doctor tomorrow maybe...I had a TIA (kinda like a mini-stroke) back in 1997...and what happened today somewhat reminded me of that. I've had a migraine for DAYS...today it suddenly got so bad, and my vision "halved"...and I kept trying to throw up. Shortly afterwards the migraine became just an annoying dull throbbing, easily handled...but I was slurring my words, having trouble keeping my eyes open, and had NO equilibrium at all. If another associate hadn't caught me, I would have ended up on the floor. I had to sit down for almost 2 hours. I'm still...well its like I'm drunk...you know how when you're buzzing/drunk, and you turn your head and it takes your vision a second to catch up? Like its slightly behind? That's kinda how I feel.

"Being Poor"

One of the ladies on my board posted a link to a blog post called Being Poor. Its a long list of what "poor" people go through on a daily basis. I wanted to post a big post about it, but it would have started a huge controversy on my board, because there are a few folks who live for nothing more than to point out to everyone why they're racist, bigots, insensitive, etc...nevermind that their own comments while they're pointing this out are pretty damned hurtful too. So I'll post my thoughts here instead.

Growing up I was blessed with parents that would do any job, no matter how menial, when my dad would get laid off a lot. He was an oilfield worker, and his rigs kept getting stacked, until he made crane operator...then even if the rig got stacked, he still had a job. I also had family that helped out (and we always helped them when we were able) so I always had clothes and never knew things were tight.

That blog entry didn't make me cry. Guess I'm the cold-hearted one. Most of the things on that list I was thinking "yep, done that...yup, been there". All it did was make me thankful that while some things on the list STILL apply for me, I'm in a position now where I am able to get a few "luxuries" that I never had the opportunity for before I met Justin.

When I left my first husband, he refused to pay child support in an effort to "win" me back I guess...I'm not really sure why and I was never able to pursue the matter, since I had no money for a lawyer so I could go to court for a separation child support maintenance order. I got WIC and commodities for the kids, went to Salvation Army and Christian Services for their weekly and monthly "grocery boxes", and fed the kids whatever food I could beg or borrow. I myself was a restaurant manager and worked EVERY day so that I could use my one free meal a day to feed myself. All of my money went to bills and the largest chunk to daycare. It cost almost as much for daycare for my kids as I made in a week after taxes. My car, which I was so proud of when I'd bought it (and it only had 5 months and it was paid off) was repo'd and there was nothing I could do about it. I was insanely happy to have starved myself down from a size 12 to a size 4 so that I could wear all the pre-pregnancy clothes I had. My mother had to buy clothes for my kids. Their Christmases were thanks to Angel Tree. I applied for food stamps, I applied for welfare, and was turned down because I was still married (but had been separated for 3 years) and even though he lived in another freaking state, they wouldn't help me. The lady said it was because I was the wrong race. I didn't believe that for a long time until I saw some of my employees who I KNEW were on welfare driving brand new cars...and heard them bragging about their $800 A MONTH in food stamps. I went to Legal Aid for assistance in getting my divorce (I couldn't afford a lawyer) and THEY wouldn't help me for the same reasons (my household income was too high, even though my spouse didn't LIVE in my household so his salary should NOT have been a consideration). At the time, I was making $250-275 a week before taxes and receiving no child support. The ONLY aid I had was $398 a month in SSI payments Jared got for his epilepsy, and that stopped after 2 years because I was honest about it when he stopped having seizures.

I never want to go back there, and pray I never have to. I feel for those who still live there, but I can't shed tears for them. I did enough crying for myself.

What's wrong with our country when we spend millions to feed people overseas, and our own citizens are starving themselves? Makes no sense to me and never will. And THAT'S another debate.

MEN...

...the picture should say it all.

Justin's mom has been canning figs the last couple of days. Justin has been helping to pick them, and bought her some sugar and jars so that she'd put up a dozen pints for him. Not us, but him. I asked him to be picking some this weekend, and when I'm off Tuesday I'll try my hand at canning for the first time in my life. No response, other than "Mom would love for you to go up to her kitchen and do it, that way she could help you." Since WHEN have I ever needed help with a freaking recipe? I'm no gourmet cook, but I've almost NEVER had a recipe turn out badly. I have a knack. I just don't particularly care to cook lol.

Here's where the ass part comes in. Last night, he was hinting that he really wants biscuits with his figs (he brought home the dozen pints of figs last night). I was teasing him and saying I was setting my alarm for 9:30. I have to go to work at noon today, so no church for me. In reality I set my alarm for 7:00 so I could get up, tired as I am, and make him some danged biscuits. 7:00 comes and I get up, and...no Justin. Anywhere. I think maybe he ran up the road for something and thankfully I wait around. I do get out the bowl and start hunting up my pastry cutter, after doing my morning stuff in the bathroom. Bekah was being cute and sweet so I stopped to play with her. Finally, at 7:30, I call him. He's on his way back from Hardee's! He went to Hardee's and bought plain biscuits. ARGHHH. So I'm thinking, either I have to get breakfast still for Bekah and me, or just for me.

Yep. He ONLY bought food for himself and Bekah. What an ASS!!! I don't care if he was mad at me (unjustified by the way...this time anyway lol), he could STILL have bought me a sausage biscuit or something.

Yeah, I'm not amused at all.

Is it my own fault?

What a thing to worry about. I finally cornered my manager last night and asked her about CSM, and she said she hadn't made up her mind yet because of something that had happened. Someone (apparently a lot of someones) has been going to her and telling her that *I* said I was going to be the next CSM. I told her what I thought the problem was, and she said that she was still going to interview me again (you interview each time a position opens) but I'm not so sure of the outcome anymore.

Here's where I think I messed up. I trusted 2 CSM's enough to tell them how well I thought my interview had gone when they asked me. I'm pretty sure another CSM overheard me, and I *kinda* trust him too, so didn't worry too much about it, but at the same time he's very tight with my manager, so I'm pretty sure this information may have been misconstrued by him and taken to her. Regardless...I did say I was really confident...and when I talked to her about the CSM position when she changed my schedule for my surgery, I asked her if I "was still..." and she interrupted and said Yes. Now, she was preoccupied, and possibly, very likely, wasn't thinking what *I* was thinking, which was "am I still your choice". I told the CSM's I trusted about this.

Also, another cashier was spreading to EVERYONE that she had a really reliable source, who'd never been wrong, tell her that they'd heard from my manager that I was the next CSM. I walked in the day after the interview, and everyone was congratulating me. It was surreal. I found out they'd all been told by the same cashier, and I went to her. She and I get along, and I was very honest with her and told her I'd had what *I* felt was a great interview, but that nothing had been offered OR accepted, and that while I felt like I had a really good shot at the next position, I also was realistic and knew that someone with more experience could come in at any time and I'd be out the door. When people kept asking me about it, it became somewhat of a running joke, and I was possibly a little too glib or flip or casual in my responses. If you hear something, and then the person you go to and ask isn't categorically denying it...well I could see where that could be interpreted the wrong way. It doesn't mean I like it.

In fact I'm pissed as hell that my comments were taken out of context and presented in a way that I never intended. I can honestly, may God strike me down, say that I NEVER said what my manager told me they were saying I said, but I did allude to it in that I never firmly said "NO, I'm NOT going to be the next CSM."

I'm not sure what to do. I don't think she completely believed me (my word against several) but she indicated I still have a shot at CSM. I've watched my back there...I've been a DARNED hard worker, and I'll toot my own horn and say I've been one of their best, because I have. I have an empathy with the customers that very few of the associates have. I do believe I'm an asset to the company.

I also think this whole misunderstanding is my fault because I was a little careless, and people probably overheard SOME things and filled in the blanks of what they didn't quite hear. I'll definitely be more careful in the future, and they'll then think I'm being bitchy because I'm not talking about ANYTHING LOL. Oh well, you can't win them all.

Yeah, I'm still pissed off about this.

Not that anyone cares...

but yeah, I'm having a crappy week. Hey its only Tuesday...great I have 4 more glorious days to look forward to.

Lets see. Jared is swinging again. We've gotten him back on the Prozac (the doctor said we could wean him off back in May, and he's had a couple episodes, but nothing major). However, the past week I've seen the signs, and a couple nights ago, he came in at 11pm as I was heading out to bed, and we ended up talking until midnight. He's wanting to hurt himself again. He went to the bathroom and I went and woke Justin up and together we talked to him until 1:30 in the morning. He seemed to be better yesterday, but is still down. We started his Prozac back yesterday, so hopefully he'll be feeling better soon. I can't watch him though because he left to go to his dad's for 2 weeks last night. And I didn't get to say goodbye because I got home from work less than 10 min after their dad left with them.

My procedure most definitely did NOT work. There's a slight lessoning of the pain but nothing to write home about. I'm really disappointed and depressed over it. I tried NOT to put too many hopes on this for this exact reason. So now what? They won't do the more radical procedure on me...I won't allow it even if they would. My internal anatomy is NOT the normal anatomy, and I just think it carries too many risks for me personally.

I don't think I'm going to get CSM at work either. I know I was told that I was the leading choice, but that WAS 3 weeks or so ago, and I just feel very negatively about it now. Granted, I'm depressed and paranoid, but I just don't have a warm, fuzzy feeling about it. Its ok, I'll stay in Money Center...I like it there. What I don't like is getting screwed lately on all the closing shifts. The last 3 weeks running, I've been scheduled 3 closing shifts, in relation to everyone else getting 1-2 closing shifts. OK if someone has to have 3, FINE, but rotate it. When I said something, one of the ladies snapped that I didn't close at all the first month, and not to complain now. Um, I didn't close the first month because that wasn't my availability...I opened up my availability and started closing twice a week. However lately, its been 3 times. I'm going to give it until Ana comes back from vacation, and then if I'm still getting the shaft, I'm going to approach my manager and say something. I don't want to cause trouble, but closing, then opening, then closing, then opening, and closing most weekends, is hard on me. I drive farther than anyone else, almost an hour one way, and while its not TOO bad (I get home by 10:30) I do have to get up at 4:30 to be back for 6:30, so that just makes me feel like I'm living at Wal-Mart. I'll figure it out. I'm probably just being crabby anyway.

I don't like feeling this way. I didn't want to blog today..haven't wanted to for a long time. I need to though...I don't want to let it slip, like so many other things in my life. Of course, typing with a kitten who INSISTS on sleeping on my belly, curled up in the crook of one arm, does make things a little difficult (I'm in the recliner on my laptop), but hey, I'll manage. She's too cute to move when she's all sweet and purring and snoring. She even has a little paw tucked up around her ears, just like a kid when they sleep. OK Kiki is good for me, she's making me smile. So even though none of my kids are here for the next couple weeks, I'll survive. Life isn't bad.

UGH

The title says it all. The procedure was not a rousing success, certainly not what I'd hoped. I'm still in a lot of pain abdominally, and now I can add back pain to the list. I also woke up with a migraine this morning...I think because once I get comfortable, I don't move again until I wake up due to the back and abdominal pain...and I think I slept wrong and got my neck out of whack. I'd go to the chiropractor, but well, I wouldn't be able to stand her touching my back. I'm screwed I guess.

Maybe it will gradually improve (the abdominal pain). My impression was that it would pretty much be instantaneous. I could be wrong.

On another note, I've been off work since Monday night. Tuesday was my scheduled day off, and I had Wednesday, yesterday, and today off due to this procedure. I'm supposed to go in and open tomorrow. I will definitely go in, but may have to sit down a lot, and they can kiss it if they say anything. When I'm there, I'm ALWAYS cleaning something, staying busy, doing whatever needs doing. I have a legitimate excuse to sit on my ass this time, and by golly they better not give me grief.

I am worried about work anyway...CSM was supposed to be announced this week, and I've been off since it closed. I hope I haven't shot myself in the foot. If I have, oh well, it really couldn't be helped, now could it? My manager told me to my face last week when we were fixing my schedule for this week that I was still her choice. So we shall see what we shall see.

Could be better...could be worse...

I don't know...I just haven't felt like keeping up with this lately. I'm so tired...hurting so much...and I honestly feel like I'm having a lot of trouble "keeping it all together."

Someone at work complained to management about something I supposedly did...and I didn't do it, but I kinda did...that doesn't make sense does it? Its against policy to make scheduling changes/arrangements with other associates off the clock...someone came in, we were talking, I mentioned I was having this procedure done next week and was worried about who would work my shifts, she said she was coming back, and I jokingly said "Oh well then you can cover it!" and she laughed and said sure, as soon as she came back she'd see what she could do. That was it. It turned into a story that I called her...and I don't even have her phone number!

My chest hurts so badly...its all from the abdominal troubles...please God, please let this procedure give me some relief. I'm afraid to get my hopes up about it.

I don't know now what's going to happen with CSM...it seems like the past two days I'm being complained about a lot. I know I aggravate some folks...I get manic and talk too much. I try so hard to help, that I end up irritating rather than assisting. I get that. I try to control it, but its getting harder.

Oh well. Screw it. I'll just keep on keeping on, and try to hold it all together. I think I know where some of my meds are...I think I may not be completely out after all. It'll take a couple weeks to start seeing any benefits, but at least it'd be a start.

Drugs? Anyone?

Soooo I'm thinking its beyond time to get back on some medication. I'm doing ok right now...but barely. How do I say this? I'm getting paranoid...beyond belief. I'm imagining things right and left, thinking people are talking/thinking about me...I see/hear/visualize events and conversations, and to be quite honest, I'm not sure if some of them are delusions or if they're real. I just don't know. I don't know what's coming out of my mouth half of the time. I'm not sure of some of the things I've said at work yesterday and today. Have I made sense? Have I sounded like a raving lunatic?

What's wrong with me? Oh yeah, I'm bipolar...and apparently suffering delusions of grandeur. I NEED to be funny. I NEED to be witty. I NEED to be amusing. I NEED to be...wanted.

Reverse Discrimination

Living in the south, I've often witnessed this, but never in a REAL personal way. Sure, I've been called names, accused of being a racist, various other things, usually by black people. But today topped the cake.

I was treated very nastily today. I was taken aback, because I've never done anything TO this person, never talked bad about them, I've often said hello to them, and was confused because I was glared at or outright ignored. The whole situation has been strange, but because I rarely work with this person, I rarely thought a whole lot about it, and just chalked it up to them having a bad day.

Today, after a couple nasty incidents that rubbed me the wrong way, it got even worse, and I finally confronted said person. "What have I done to piss you off?"..."Nothing."..."Then why are you so nasty to me?"..."Because you're white."..."Excuse me??"..."Because you're white and you think everything should be for you."..."I do???"..."All whites do. All ya'll do is keep us down...look at what happened after The Storm...white America only cares about white America." My response...after a moment of slack-jawed shock? "I'm so sorry for you. Nothing I can say can remove your hatred, and you must be very unhappy." I walked away to the tune of "White bitch" ringing in my ears.

Should I report it? Probably. Will I? No. What purpose would it serve? I'm going to TRY to put it behind me, not an easy thing to do considering how empathetic and paranoid I am, but I'm going to try my best. I've done nothing wrong...I'd say 98% of the blacks in our store like me (that know me). I have a history of racism in my family in the worst way, and maybe if I'm guilty of anything, its trying too hard NOT to be a racist. Does that in turn make me a racist? Maybe...its something I'll have to think about in depth.

Yep, he was mad!

The subject says it all. It did NOT go well. Actually, I guess it did go ok. He's mad that I went behind his back, but I got tired of begging. Its my house too, and dangit, I'm NOT like I was last year before my surgeries, and he knows that. I deserve another chance...shoot screw the other chance...he threw my kitten outside when he thought I was not going to come home from the hospital. If you want to get technical, he owes me another cat.

However, I don't like thinking that way anymore. The past is past. I need a cat. I'm a cat lover, and I've ALWAYS had a cat to help comfort me. There are times when I can't talk to anyone, and my cats have always understand. Alright, I know they didn't UNDERSTAND...but they comforted me regardless.

So...it didn't go great...but it sure as heck could have went a lot worse...I told him as soon as she's used to us I'll put her outside, but I'm hoping I can talk him around to letting her stay inside as long as I keep her litter box and feeding areas clean. I can hope, right?

Dark times?

I'm having a rough go of it lately. Where to start?

I was asked to consider CSM (Customer Service Manager) at work. I was told I was a virtual shoe-in for the position. I had SEVERAL CSM's recommend me as their pick. I was not chosen...Daniel was. Now, I'm happy for Daniel...he's going to be a really good CSM. He's kind, he's smart, he's patient and considerate to the customers, even the hard to deal with ones, and while he gets along with darned near everyone, he isn't "buddy buddy" like some of the CSM's are. He's going to do really well. I was told I wasn't picked because I don't have open availability. They also want to move me over to the Customer Service desk, but again, I don't have open availability, so I told them I'd think about it and see what I could do with the availability issue.

I'm actually somewhat relieved. Yes, I DID want it...I DO want it...but I prayed that God would show me...and he did. I'm really really stressed out, and sliding down again, and the last thing I need is the stress of a new position, management at that. I LOVE my job and don't want to lose it or do anything to mess it up like I do so often due to the bipolar crap. Right now, just about everyone loves me, literally...I'm not just saying that to make myself look good. I feel HAPPY at work...I'm well-liked, everyone wants to work with me whenever we do anything in pairs/groups...oh that feels so good and gives me a MUCH needed boost.

I'm feeling though...ragged out. The pain has gotten better lately actually...I'm not even having to take Tylenol PM to sleep most nights. Oh its still there, don't get me wrong, but either I'm dealing with it better or its lessened a lot. However, 3-4 nights a week I'm in terrible pain...but that's an improvement from 7 nights a week. Tonight for instance...I'm on percoset, phenergen, and Tylenol PM. I had no choice. I got up and went to the bathroom, and emptying my bladder caused that terrible pain behind my incision again...I don't understand it...if anything it should LESSEN pain because its not pushing on anything when its empty, but instead, it always makes it worse. I started crying it hurt so bad. For a solid hour, whenever I got up and had to walk, I had to do it completely bent over at the waist because if I straightened up I wanted to scream from the pain.

THIS kind of pain is what gets to me. I'm sick and TIRED of saying "I'm in terrible pain, please do something about it" every time I go to the doctor. I'm sick and tired of hearing "I don't know what to tell you..." from the doctors. I've had a couple recommendations for a pain clinic and pain specialist, but the doctors recommending were supposed to also get an appointment for me, and that hasn't happened yet. Not only that, every time I've remembered to call myself, I haven't been able to due to working...and then when I remember again its too late or the weekend or whatever.

I haven't cried for Dick yet. I haven't cried for Mamaw yet. I feel like the absolute worst person in the world. I loved Dick...I was crazy about him. I miss being able to call him and ask advice on some theological point...or seeing a history show on TV and being able to call him and tell him its on so we can "watch" it together over the phone. I miss hearing him teach his classes (Sunday School and special religious study groups). He was THERE for me in the hospital last year. He was THERE when Bekah was born, and was soooo proud. He was there for me when Mom would have one of her ... well, she'd need to vent and I was her target. She honestly had no idea how she treats those of us she loves...and we forgive her because ... if I needed a kidney, Mom would give me hers. If I needed a lung, Mom would give me hers. If I needed a HEART, Mom would give me hers if she could find a doctor to do it. She would do anything for anyone that she loves, and anything in her power for just about anyone regardless of how well she knows them. She's one of the best people I know...she just has a real issue with anxiety and stress.

Digressing from Dick...I'm terrified for Mom. She has ... crap must be the drugs, I can't remember the name, but her heart is NOT in good shape. She's collecting fluid, and has to take a nitro pill more times than I'm comfortable with. She's under a terrible amount of stress, and...oh God I can't lose her...not now. She took care of me in the hospital...massaged my feet and legs for hours when the meds and such gave me terrible cramps...bathed me...shaved my legs...brushed my hair...sang to me...cheered me up...PRAYED WITH ME and for me. She saved my life...I know I almost died the night I had my "vision" in the hospital, and she prayed with me and helped me get saved again. No matter what anyone thinks, I believe I would have died that night if I hadn't turned to God.

Mamaw. I'm the worst granddaughter in the world. I'll post more on that later. I'm too exhausted now. Jared came in and we talked for 35 min and now the drugs are kicking my butt.

Mamaw...

Mamaw died Monday, March 12, sometime before dawn.

As for how I'm feeling right now...I'm just going to cut and paste from a post on my board earlier...

Every time I've started to "lose it"...I've been interrupted. Tonight Justin started snoring while I was talking about Mamaw so I rolled over to sleep, and started to sob...shoulders shaking, pulling my hair, but not making any sound...and it woke him up and he held me and told me to let it out and I took a deep breath and STARTED to...and his mom called (10:24 mind you). I immediately dried up. So now I'm talking to Mom on the phone and I just...I...heck. I guess I'm in shock or something. I was expecting it...I'm relieved...she told me she never dated (after Papaw died) because she'd loved greatly and why settle for anything less...so I know she's with Papaw and happy and picking at Dick and Jay (my two stepdads) and holding her babies again (Billy Wayne and Freddy)...and I know I'm grieving for me...but God this sucks!

Jared is talking to Mom on the phone now...he sprained his wrist playing outside with some of the cousins this evening...and I'm trying to hold it together because he's been crying off and on since yesterday...but I just want to crawl into a hole somewhere.

I don't think I'm going to say anything at the funeral...I'm not sure what to say anyway...and I have a feeling I'd choke up too much. I'd like to sing for her, but I'm not sure that I can. The tulips Karan and I bought for her are gorgeous...and we're going to plant the bulbs on her grave, and that would please her. Maybe I'll ask Carol to send me some more bulbs from Holland (she can get some cheap that are outrageous here).

I'm rambling. I've been awake for close to 48 hours...lets see...42 hours now. Mamaw was THE most important person in my life growing up...and I want to slap all my cousins and uncles and aunts so much. Well not my cousin Chan or my uncle David...they were with Mom and me a lot as far as visiting/taking care of Mamaw...but the rest of them can take a flying leap for all I care. Tonight they were saying she didn't look like herself...well no, she's been embalmed, was wearing makeup for the first time in her life, but she was so beautiful to me...and I finally had enough and snapped "Well if you'd bothered to visit her at all in the last 2 years you'd see how beautiful she looks, and that it DOES look like her because this is how she was looking lately!!" and I had to just walk out of the funeral home and sit down on the grass and stare at the sky so I wouldn't cry or scream.

I knew it was going to hurt...I knew it was going to suck. I told Justin that Mamaw never did anything bad...she was a genuinely good person through and through, and if this happening to her was a punishment for something she did wrong earlier in life, then I'm SCREWED. Then I said that she didn't have to know Daddy or Uncle Charles (her oldest child) were in prison, or that Dick had died, so maybe it was a blessing...but oh man. Mrs. McGilberry, her roommate, heard her struggling for breath and got up and called the nurses but they didn't come in, and she held Mamaw's hand until she stopped breathing...she said she never woke up so we know it was peaceful at least.

I miss you so much Mamaw...now more than ever...but I'm praying that you and Papaw and Billy Wayne and Freddy and Jay and Dick and your brother and sisters and your parents...I pray you're all having a grand reunion up in Heaven right now...

It gets old!

Pain that is...I was doing better today, although woozy a lot when I got up this morning so I went back to bed until around 10:30 and the wooziness wasn't nearly as bad when I got up then. I've taken it easy today, trying to make sure I don't overdo it. I fixed the chicken and rice (for supper) at 3:30 and covered it and left it on the stove to put in later (it takes an hour and a half total cook time). At 4:30 I got up, went in, put the dish in the oven, and was about to fry up the bacon for the green beans when the pain hit me with a vengeance. I doubled over and hollered "OH" before I could stop myself, and Jared dropped his book and came running. I hate that I did that in front of him. He's my kid, not my doctor or my servant, and I hate worrying him. Long story a tad bit shorter, HE fried up the bacon for me. All I did was add the green beans and water.

Still...supper is in progress and its ok for me to take it easy right now. I'll get up in about 20 minutes and make the biscuits and put those in to bake when I take the tin foil off the chicken and rice. Then the family will be taken care of and I can rest easier. Thank goodness I planned an easy supper tonight!

I'm afraid I'm in a rut with my health. I was doing and feeling so much better, and all of September and October I've been in and out of hospitals and doctors' offices. I THINK I'm better, but you couldn't tell it by my symptoms. The worst is this chronic pain. I've heard of people having chronic pain, but never thought it'd happen to me. I'm not even sure if this is what's wrong with me...all I know is that I hurt all the time and its REALLY affecting my moods. Try being bipolar and dealing with those issues and then have constant, nagging pain thrown in on top of that!

I want to wrestle with my kids again. I want to jump on the trampoline with them again. I want to PLAY with them. This isn't just robbing me, its robbing my children and that pisses me off more than anything else.

PAIN!

I'm sick and tired of hurting. August was great, I was in no pain for a while. Now the pain is back and no one can explain why. My surgeon back in March told me that you could do a hundred needle biopsies and have them all come back negative and completely miss the cancer, so I'm feeling a little down about that as well.

My guts are all in the wrong place, as are the rest of my organs. My liver regrew weird and its caused everything to be pushed around and I actually have a partially collapsed right lung because of all of it. I guess that explains the shortness of breath.

People have commented on my cheerful, positive attitude through all of this. I'm not feeling so cheerful or positive today. I'm tired of the doctors getting EXCITED when they review my case, and then they proclaim me to be a "unique" case. I can see them mentally rubbing their hands together in glee because they get to experiment with something new.

I'm disgusted by it all, and even more so by my attitude today. I don't like being this way...I feel mean and petty and that pisses me off even more. UGH.

Long time no posting...

Wow...its been almost a month since I blogged. A lot has happened...and yet not much has changed. I've been in and out of the hospitals in Hattiesburg and New Orleans, and I feel pretty despondent about a lot of it.

Good news...I had another liver biopsy and it was negative. Cancer is gone for good I hope and pray, but there's always the chance of a recurrence, so I have to be vigilant.

I think I'm addicted to IV drugs. I'm not sure but I think I am. In the hospital I could have as much as I wanted (with time restraints of course) and I got all that I could. I have the same drugs here at home and I never touch them, but it really disturbs me how I hit the drugs in the hospital. I don't want to have an addiction, but I know I have an addictive personality. My paternal grandmother was addicted to every pain killer she could get her hands on. That's one reason I've always been hesitant to use pain killers. However lately I find myself hitting them every time I'm in the hospital. Maybe its because I've been in so much pain so often lately...I pray that's the reason. I have hope because I HAVEN'T touched the pain killers that I have here at home. I keep the bottles where I see them every day...its almost like a badge of honor for me to see them constantly but not use them.

Maybe I'm just messed up...there's a good reason LOL.