Ellie Vs. A Ferocious Friday

Friiiiiday Friiiiday. Something something Friiiiday.
I sing that every Friday to the 15-year-old girl I nanny on the way home from her school. At first she would get annoyed. Now she sings it with me. Nanny win!

Hello dear readers, I hope you are all well and are enjoying the sunshine. I am such a giant fan of sunshine. (Did anyone else imagine an enormous ceiling fan of light? No? Just me? Oh. Okay).

This week overall was pretty calm and easy, and then Friday happened, and it was so intense that I think all of this would have been much easier if it had been spread out through the week. Since it’s a whole lot of life balled up into one single day, I decided to write it out in a timeline. So. Here we go!

10:46a.m: Watching Scrubs, eating breakfast, I happen to check my e-mail and sure enough, one e-mall headline states, “You have a new message from your doctor at Stanford Hospital!” My heart flies out of my chest and out the window. I frantically go to the website, log in, fail because I am nervous, log in again, read the message, and to my utter joy, it is my doctor telling me that the board director has approved my surgery and believes it to be a reasonable solution to my condition. I couldn’t believe it. With tears in my eyes, I read further, taking in the instructions for the next step in the process. Have my therapist call her, talk to a social worker (which I had the day before, who also supports me), bring a friend to the next appointment. Done!

12:30p.m: Drive to see my medical doctor, the one who has known me the last eight years, to talk about the surgery. She was completely supportive, and said the gynecologist had called her and she explained to the gynecologist that this had been something on our mind for years and that it was now seen as my best chance. Happiness level: Over 9,000!!!!!

3:330p.m: Pick up the kid, sing the chorus of Friday to her, go to the house, do nanny stuff.

5:00p.m: Receive a call from a very frantic receptionist at Stanford, telling me someone called on my behalf and didn’t know why. I explained the person calling was my therapist, because the doctor asked for her to call them. The receptionist then said my therapist did not leave a number (which turns out, she did, but this lady was just sort of crazy all together), and because this was such a disaster to her, she called my emergency contact. My emergency contact is my mother, who is not supposed to know about my surgery. Panic and rage ensues. Like really though, what the fuck? Who calls an emergency number because they lost a phone number in a non-emergency situation? For those who know me, I have a very, veeeery long fuse when it comes to my temper. It’s rare I blow up at anyone, let alone a stranger. But I blew like a volcano. Boom.

7:30p.m: Pick up my friend Brian, sit in the car crying my eyes out from fear because I still didn’t know what the receptionist did and did not tell my mother. I calm down as best as I can, then drive us to the theater to meet up with the rest of our friends so that we all may bask in the glory that is Avengers: Age of Ultron. The movie was really fantastic. Not quiet as good as the first, but certainly not bad by any means.

12:30a.m: Come home after a long day, try to sleep, but can’t, so I cruise through the interbutts mindlessly. (Don’t tell me you don’t do that when you are sleepless. I know you do!) Then, PLOT TWIST: I get a message from a friend I haven’t talked to for nearly seven months, apologizing for falling off the face of the Earth. I was furious at him, partly for bailing on me and constantly flaking on me since I’ve really known him, partly because I had been extremely worried about him, and partly because I unfortunately get left behind a lot by people for one reason or another, most of the time for reasons that really aren’t reasons at all. I don’t know how in one day two different people got me to snap.

However, we talk for a very long time, and after I go through my initial, “you bailed on me and I fucking hate you know,” phase, I went back to my normal, non-threatening self and admit that I love him dearly, and that I really, really missed him because he truly was one of my dearest and closest friends. Which ultimately did make his prompt exit out of my life that much more painful. After first giving me what I like to call an automatic robo-apology, he gave me a real one, along with telling me that I was important to him, and it made everything better. I am so happy that we decided to be friends again. I don’t trust many people, but the few that I do trust mean the world to me. So when they go away, or hurt me, whether intentionally or not, it’s like a knife through my little heart. Ouch.

This whole event though was just an overload of feels. All the feels at once. ALL OF THEM.

3:30p.m (where it gets really interesting): After talking to my friend for ours and reclaiming our awesome, Chris Evans loving friendship, I feel amazing and happy and all the good things in my soul. I thought that I would easily be able to go to sleep after all that, so I get comfortable and tried to sleep. Instead of falling asleep to dream of The Avengers, I instead lay awake, my heart suddenly pounding faster and faster, my body becoming overwhelmed with pain. I felt so hot, and my heartbeat was so blaringly loud, and I was so nauseous, and I was suddenly so everything bad. I sit up in my bed, sweating as if it was currently placed on the sun. My nausea gets worse, and I decide to go to the bathroom because I thought I would throw up.

I walk through the hallway, and right before I got to the bathroom, I faint in front of my mother’s bathroom. Our house is really quite small, so this was a very short way from my room. She wakes up and comes out, to the hallway, and I was on the floor, laying on my back. I couldn’t get up and everything was hurting, and my brain was apparently not working very well, because she kept asking what was wrong, and all I could muster, “please call help.” I said that phrase over and over, and my mother argues with me saying there was no reason for an ambulance because I have fainted before. This was not like the other times though. I usually didn’t feel so much pain and nausea, and I usually snapped out of it quickly and was aware. I was feeling confused, and I couldn’t speak, and finally I just scream a blood-curdling, zombie raising scream, because I was scared, and I was in pain, and I just couldn’t take any of it anymore. My mother finally stops fighting me and calls an ambulance.

While she was on the phone with the dispatcher, I realize I had to at least try to go to the bathroom, because peeing myself in front of five strangers didn’t sound all that appealing. So, I crawl to the toilet, and lift myself up onto it, but then my vision goes out. I was still concious, but everything turned black and I really could not see. I try to get up and wash my hands, because even in the worst situations, I am still slightly germaphobic. Then I faint again.

I wake up in my room on my bed, with the three paramedics surrounding me. The scariest part of this all was that I opened my eyes, saw them, then closed my eyes once again. When I did, I feem like I am paralyzed. I hear what is going on, but no amount of energy can get me to open my eyes, speak, or move. I was frozen. They ask me questions and I can’t reply. They force me up to lift onto the gurney, and finally I am able to look around, and after the third time of them asking me what my name was, I finally could answer. Into the ambulance I go.

The rest of the night/morning: We got to the hospital, and I still felt partially paralyzed, but I was at least more aware. I was intensely sleepy though, and struggled to stay awake. I felt a nurse play with my hair, and she said in her Southern accent, “poor girl.” I don’t know why, but her doing both those things was just so amazingly soothing, and for the first time all night, I felt a little less scared. The paramedics told me my blood pressure was freakishly low. 72/something. I have normally low blood pressure, but never that low, ever. They were very worried.

After about six hours in the hospital, the wonderfully sweet doctor who I had seen at my arrival came in and told me that I passed out from too much pain. He said that my body basically got overwhelmed from pain, clamped down on itself causing my blood pressure to drop, resulting in my vasovagal syncope being triggered and causing me to black out and faint. I told him that this was the worst episode I’ve had, but not the first, and as I told him before when I first met him, my periods since I had them give me absurd symptoms. I didn’t tell him about my plans for a hysterectomy, because people are so strange about the subject, but after hearing about what I’ve gone through and seeing the result first hand, he told me that though it is tough, he would really have me consider a hysterectomy, because this isn’t living and these periods are impacting my life far more than they should. He said I should have done it years ago, and that just because I didn’t have a uterus, didn’t mean I would have to give up being a mother if that’s what I wanted. I was so ecstatic to hear his response! I told him that I was in fact planning to have the surgery, and that I had a lot of support from doctors and friends, but my family didn’t support it. He said while it was unfortunate my family didn’t support me, I should still do it for my own well being, and that I could add him to the list of doctors on my side.

After being up for over 24 hours, I finally was able to sleep, and have been mostly resting since. Going through all this absolutely, totally sucked; however, I feel like at this point, God is slapping me in the face saying, “THIS THING NEEDS TO HAPPEN NOW! FOR ME SAKES!” I get the point, God. Thanks for the signs, man. I read you loud and clear. And it is wonderful to now have yet one more doctor on my side through this grand adventure to improving my quality of life. I just can’t do this anymore guys. I can’t.

Despite Friday being as overwhelming as possible with so much good and so much bad, yesterday was filled with mostly kindness from the amazing people in my life. My friend came to pick me up from the hospital at 7a.m, one came to help me do basic things since I am very weak, and another just showed up to my house to surprise me with ice cream, my favorite chips, and the amazing book called Goodnight, Darth Vader (since I had to miss a May the 4th celebration, she said the book would make up for it). I am very unlucky that I am constantly battling pain and sickness, and to do it all with a very unsupportive family. However, I am beyond fortunate to have so many good friends that make up for the lack of support, and lend their hand to me when I need it the most, and sometimes, without me even asking. Those few people make all this far more tolerable. I can even try to explain my gratitude.

I worry constantly that when I move in two months, I will be leaving these amazing friends behind, and will never find ones nearly as incredible as them. To an extent, my condition makes it so that I always have to rely on others at least a little. Personally, I despise that. I generally try to be as independent as possible, but my life reminds me often enough that realistically, I can’t do this on my own all the time. I do make sure that they do know that even though I need help, I am always there to help them as well. There are a group of people in my life that I would honestly do absolutely anything for, no questions asked. While I will miss my friends when I go, not only because they help me, but because they are in general a group of extraordinary humans, I maintain a glimmer of hope that there are good, kind people all over the world, wherever I will go. They may be hard to find, but I do honestly believe they’re out there.

Today, I will be apartment hunting, resting, and hopefully will get to spend some time at the lake by my house. It’s so odd because as I said before, my life isn’t all bad or all good. It is this giant puddle of everything a person can feel at once. I guess that isn’t the worst thing in the world, but let me tell you, it sure is exhausting.

I am all circuits and wires
Conducting symphonies of heat exchange energies
Fueled by a nervous system thrust through the great unknown
A timid mess of frightened bones
I pledge to make no difference
I aim to take no stand
This bitter silence is the only play I have
In light of all their laughter, I’ll take to keeping shy
A resolution that I’ve finally had enough
Can’t speak, can’t speak, can’t speak at all
Don’t even think you know the reason.

Circuits and Wires- Motion City Soundtrack


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s