Another day, another scar.
Since my last post I've had my thyroid removed. I have a wonderful ENT surgeon who was more concerned with decreasing my existing scar at the site than I was about the appearance of my scars en total. This, is an awesome thing. It means not only did he make sure I was overly aware of all the risks and what surgery means and how it changes my life, but he took care to do the least harm and best job possible.
I am more physically restricted than he prepares one for, but having had a smaller surgery at basically the same site I had a better idea than he did of what my level of restriction/lift restriction/ range of motion would be.
As a mother, it's difficult to be patient with my body as it heals. I really want my apartment clean and heaven knows my husband ain't gonna clean it. I want to play and wrestle on the floor and teach my boy t-ball... and I can't do that really yet either. I start to offer piggyback rides every other day only to remember that I can't... I have to turn down some of my son's overzealous hugs/attacks/silliness/games.
As an artist, the readjustment that my body is going through chemically is draining. I'm tired a lot and can't envision projects at the moment. Not my usual "ADD struggling to keep the vision in my head long enough to get it all down" battle with myself that I'm used to, but more of something akin to writer's block with a touch of apathy. Apathy sucks.
As a person, most medical battles really suck. It is tough from a medical side sometimes, sifting through the info, making time to go have bloodwork drawn or go to appointments, but having to battle other people is a ridiculous add-on. When you want to play something down people say stupid shit that they wouldn't say if they knew the whole story. When you tell people the whole story they act pitiful and either make you feel bad that you told them because they are now sad or you get angry because you don't want pity you simply didn't want them to say the same stupid thing you've heard 10 times already.
Yes people, you kinda need a thyroid. When you have it removed you take a daily pharmaceutical replacement. It's not really that foreign of a concept in this day and age! When you ask me "Did it HAVE to be removed?" and you're over the age of 20 I'm going to assume you're an idiot. You wouldn't have an organ that helps regulate your entire body removed if there wasn't a problem. No matter how long I've known a person, if they ask me that particular question I am assuming that they have a low IQ and somehow got to this point of their lives based on their looks or giving great sexual favors. I understand people's curiosity, really I do, but PLEASE take a note from your kids. Kids about 10 years old are more likely to ask me well worded relevant questions than the adults.
The question isn't "It wasn't cancerous, was it?". The question is "Why did you have it removed?"
The question isn't "Did it hurt?", the question is "Does it still hurt?"
Don't ask me "Was there another way?" Ask me "How long did you know about it before surgery?"
Dear Lord, stop saying "Well, at least you don't live alone!" and listen to the kids who say "I guess your son has to pick up his own toys now, huh?" (and by the way, he still doesn't half the time, but he's only 3.)
When I tell you I have a 5 pound lift restriction, be smart enough to realize I live with a child who weighs 6 times that before thinking I am back to doing everything.
If you ask me if it was cancerous and I say yes, don't look panic stricken like I'm gonna drop dead at any moment.
If you ask me if it was cancerous and I say no, don't then pretend I didn't have surgery at all and suddenly am feigning my limitations.
When I tell you, in truth, that one or two tiny goiters are very common, but I had 9 large ones, don't tell me "Oh that can't be right." (Apparently, somehow, if I had had 9 everyone in the world would've heard about it, so I had to be lying.)
This reminds me very much of another situation people are stupid about - learning about a person's miscarriage. I hear other people say things and I just want to take them aside and say "Did you hear what you just said to her?!?!" Seriously, how is telling someone "It wasn't meant to be" suppose to be helpful? Or worse, "You can always try again." Really people? You're basically telling this person that whatever they are going through at the moment doesn't matter. Not only that, but trying again doesn't ensure that poor person doesn't go through heartache and physical mess again. I hear less common, VERY wrong things being said too... but I am astounded by the most common idiot things society seems to breed.
There is no need for the shit that we say to people in uncomfortable situations. (I say stupid things when a person's parent is in the hospital - so I'm not without fault.) Really all we need to say, 90% of the time is "That sucks that you're going through that right now. I hope things get better." And, if you truly have time and will follow through (ONLY if you have time and will follow through) "Is there anything I can do for you that is helpful?"
Oh, and the next person who asks me if (or worse, when) I'm going to have a second child should really REALLY watch out. First, I JUST HAD SURGERY YOU DUMB F*&(^%. Second, unless you're my son's grandparents, it is absolutely 100% NONE of YOUR BUSINESS! How did asking a woman if she's going to have more children become as common a topic as the weather?!?!
It is rude to be asked that question:
-by anyone within a month of having major surgery
-by someone you haven't seen in 6 years, within the first 2 minutes of talking to them
-by an elderly lady you don't know
-by your son's friend's mother who also has only one child
-by your neighbor, who you already gave an honest answer to, twice, last month
- by someone you grew up with, chat with occasionally online but haven't actually seen in over a decade.
And here's some more that haven't happened in the past 7 days:
-by anyone who doesn't know your full name
-by anyone you haven't physically seen in over a decade
-by anyone too old to be your older brother/sister
-by anyone you've already answered that question for within the last 2 years (this includes parents)
The musings, rantings, and snippets of story from an artistic mother who probably has ADD which explains... yes honey you can... no... no the cat can not have your juice... please don't touch that the paint is still wet... crap the oven!
Showing posts with label surgery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label surgery. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
The Reason I'm Still Up
I didn't call Grum today.
I even got that unmistakable cue from the universe to call her (This time it was a friend who wrote "I miss you Grum" in her own status!) and because it was dinner time and she was unlikely to be home at the moment, I told myself I'd call her later.
Minutes later I was in the car, driving, picking up my son, driving again, getting dinner ready while simultaneously playing Wii with my son, feeding two whiny cats, eating with my son, talking with my husband, clearing dishes... and the to-do list of daily life carried me away with it again.
I didn't call my Grum.
And I miss her terribly.
We live too far apart and she's a bit too self-conscious and a bit too old for a lot of the things and ways we'd make that distance feel smaller. But it doesn't mean I shouldn't have called.
You see, my Grum is unique in that she is that unique person in my life who's faults I know, I see, I openly accept (even when I don't like them and tell her so) and love her unconditionally. She very may well be the only person in my family (my son is still little - when he's 10 we'll see...) whom loves me unconditionally, wholly, unselfishly and without hesitation. While my brother will show up if I make it known I need him, while my husband does love me... it's Grum who I know is not held by any societal constraints to love me, I know she sees my short comings, I know she rolls her eyes at my extravagance when it's there, but I also hear her cheering me on from almost 300 miles away. I hear the comfortable silence of "nothing left to talk about, but I'm not ready to hang up yet" after a few minutes on the phone. I have patience and acceptance for her, who she is NOW, like few do because all too many in my family forget that there is a NOW that we live in, not the past. We carry our pasts around like a scrapbook, but they are not the present. I accepted and loved her then when she was a screaming shrew. But then again, her other half wasn't half as sweet as he was painted to be. He just always spoke very low when he wasn't being nice... so if you didn't have hearing like Grum & I it was easy to miss the subtle goading. I loved them then. I love them now. But I miss Grum.
There's little I can do for her from here. She needs me to remind people to let her go her own pace, so I do so when I get the opportunity. She desperately needs me to remind people that she does, in fact, listen to them now, even if that wasn't the case 25 years ago. She's still Kate, she's still fiery at times, but she knows times aren't easy and that her body isn't young anymore. She doesn't want to be labelled as helpless or feeble, but she also recognizes that her reflexes suck. Her confidence has faded through lack of repetition... the whole "use it or lose it" she's learned the hard way has much truth to it. Her cooking ability has reverted to that of a teenage boy... but now their budget and waistlines are putting her at the crossroads of sensibility and ability: Going out to eat every night for dinner is too expensive, Cooking is limited and receiving meals offends her sense of independence (and ability to control her choices.). Oh the odd calamaties of age.
About to fall is a big blow that she is trying to desperately figure out how to soften without having to deal with the drama... How does one deal with illness and treatment in a small town without drawing attention but without isolating yourself and your husband from every other living person you know? Small towns are horrible for gossip... and having one of the town gossips be your very dramatic niece who's house you can see from your own recliner isn't the most calming reality in the world when things go awry either. It's nice to have a loving relative so close... but I can attest that the upside to having such a caring relative so close comes at a steep price to any privacy and calm a sensible person is likely to desire. My cousin was the one to show up and take me to the hospital when I couldn't reach my parents in the middle of the night. She took me on some awesome Spring Break trips. She has also embarrassed me on multiple occasions... one time which was so bad she almost lost her job because of it! She announces whatever it is you feel is private information as loudly and as quickly as she can to what feels like every person in town before you have a chance to hide for cover. I want to be in town when she finds out - I want to be there to physically stand in her way as she opens her mouth to wail and somehow turn it all into a drama about how it hurts her... because just this once I would shut her up. There are a few nice ways and a lot of quick nasty ones. Whatever works.
When you're going through a cancer scare the worst thing a family member can do is let that quick wash of fear and uncertainty take hold and stay there. The all-too-common reaction of being shocked and loudly worried about it to the patient does the patient no good. Why do people always almost yell "Oh my god that's horrible!" ? I understand that you're shocked, but you're an adult. Keep your head enough to at least keep your voice down! Secondly, I understand there are questions. It's natural. However, there are intelligent questions, there are immediate questions, and then there are dumb statements that you want me to pretend are questions that just piss me off. If someone tells you about a medical issue PLEASE take a breath and count to 5 before saying anything. It's like when someone has a miscarriage and you tell them "It's all for the best." They know you're heart means well, but all they can focus on is how much of an asshole you sound like and how much they wish they hadn't told you anything at all about it.
If you love a patient, ask the immediate questions... Do you need any help today? What does that diagnosis mean? When does your treatment/surgery/follow up/new diet start? Could your spouse use a hand around the house/with rides/ a hand to hold? Is this something that is okay for me to tell other people or is it a secret for now?
If you love a patient, LOOK at them when you ask a question, LOOK and LISTEN to their response. If they're getting angry, love them enough to stop prodding. DON'T cut them off. DON'T jump to the worst conclusions. Try not to give stories of each and every person you've ever heard of with whatever their condition is. Really, we're going to get enough of that over the next few months to last a lifetime. Most of the time it will be from people we have to be nice to. Please just love us enough to do the hardest thing for families to do: Sit still and listen. Love us with all your heart. Understand that you can't walk our path for us, but you are welcome to walk beside us... so long as you listen.
I've spent an ungodly amount of time in hospitals for a (soon-to-be) 30 year old who's had a very healthy life. I've spend the night overnight in a hospital even when I wasn't the patient. I've gone with family members to pre-op, post-op, been a patient myself, been to that first appointment after remission, I've been that one non-family member there. I've been the only family member there. I've been the patient that can not get a nurse to come to the room even though they are needed RIGHT NOW so I have to figure out all the wires and tubes and get out of bed looking for them. I'm lucky enough to be that new mother with their newborn in their arms. The two things that are almost always constant are this:
I even got that unmistakable cue from the universe to call her (This time it was a friend who wrote "I miss you Grum" in her own status!) and because it was dinner time and she was unlikely to be home at the moment, I told myself I'd call her later.
Minutes later I was in the car, driving, picking up my son, driving again, getting dinner ready while simultaneously playing Wii with my son, feeding two whiny cats, eating with my son, talking with my husband, clearing dishes... and the to-do list of daily life carried me away with it again.
I didn't call my Grum.
And I miss her terribly.
We live too far apart and she's a bit too self-conscious and a bit too old for a lot of the things and ways we'd make that distance feel smaller. But it doesn't mean I shouldn't have called.
You see, my Grum is unique in that she is that unique person in my life who's faults I know, I see, I openly accept (even when I don't like them and tell her so) and love her unconditionally. She very may well be the only person in my family (my son is still little - when he's 10 we'll see...) whom loves me unconditionally, wholly, unselfishly and without hesitation. While my brother will show up if I make it known I need him, while my husband does love me... it's Grum who I know is not held by any societal constraints to love me, I know she sees my short comings, I know she rolls her eyes at my extravagance when it's there, but I also hear her cheering me on from almost 300 miles away. I hear the comfortable silence of "nothing left to talk about, but I'm not ready to hang up yet" after a few minutes on the phone. I have patience and acceptance for her, who she is NOW, like few do because all too many in my family forget that there is a NOW that we live in, not the past. We carry our pasts around like a scrapbook, but they are not the present. I accepted and loved her then when she was a screaming shrew. But then again, her other half wasn't half as sweet as he was painted to be. He just always spoke very low when he wasn't being nice... so if you didn't have hearing like Grum & I it was easy to miss the subtle goading. I loved them then. I love them now. But I miss Grum.
There's little I can do for her from here. She needs me to remind people to let her go her own pace, so I do so when I get the opportunity. She desperately needs me to remind people that she does, in fact, listen to them now, even if that wasn't the case 25 years ago. She's still Kate, she's still fiery at times, but she knows times aren't easy and that her body isn't young anymore. She doesn't want to be labelled as helpless or feeble, but she also recognizes that her reflexes suck. Her confidence has faded through lack of repetition... the whole "use it or lose it" she's learned the hard way has much truth to it. Her cooking ability has reverted to that of a teenage boy... but now their budget and waistlines are putting her at the crossroads of sensibility and ability: Going out to eat every night for dinner is too expensive, Cooking is limited and receiving meals offends her sense of independence (and ability to control her choices.). Oh the odd calamaties of age.
If you love a patient, LOOK at them when you ask a question, LOOK and LISTEN to their response. If they're getting angry, love them enough to stop prodding. DON'T cut them off. DON'T jump to the worst conclusions. Try not to give stories of each and every person you've ever heard of with whatever their condition is. Really, we're going to get enough of that over the next few months to last a lifetime. Most of the time it will be from people we have to be nice to. Please just love us enough to do the hardest thing for families to do: Sit still and listen. Love us with all your heart. Understand that you can't walk our path for us, but you are welcome to walk beside us... so long as you listen.
I've spent an ungodly amount of time in hospitals for a (soon-to-be) 30 year old who's had a very healthy life. I've spend the night overnight in a hospital even when I wasn't the patient. I've gone with family members to pre-op, post-op, been a patient myself, been to that first appointment after remission, I've been that one non-family member there. I've been the only family member there. I've been the patient that can not get a nurse to come to the room even though they are needed RIGHT NOW so I have to figure out all the wires and tubes and get out of bed looking for them. I'm lucky enough to be that new mother with their newborn in their arms. The two things that are almost always constant are this:
People rarely listen to one another
& hospitals are a lousy place to get any sleep unless they give you morphine.
So the next time you go to visit someone in the hospital please remember:
1. They are the patient.
2. Since they are the patient they are not there for your amusement.
3. If you get bored easily it's your responsibility to bring something to keep busy - don't steal the remote.
4. We all love clean visitors - but that just applied perfume/cologne makes patients and staff nauseous. Even if we love it on you at home, please use as little as possible.
5. We miss the kids and pets, but think twice before bringing them. Visits with rambunctious children need to be kept brief.
6. If my water pitcher is empty please get me more water.
7. DON'T EAT MY FOOD. You have the luxury of leaving and getting more food. I may not want to eat at this very minute, but the moment you leave I'm starving...
8. Don't come to visit me and then be on the phone the entire time you're in my room. The doctors make me feel insignificant enough. Make your business calls in the waiting room.
9. Listen to my boring story of whatever the staff told me and pretend it's not so boring.
10. Don't dismiss my pain. I'm in the friggin' hospital for a reason! Or do belittle my pain you know nothing of.... but give me a pencil to stick in your eye so I can call it even.
11. If you are really awesome you would: bring me non-scented lotion, something I would like to read, my own pajamas (even if I can't use them, there's always a chance!), music & headphones, tell a funny joke, bring a small puzzle or small game I would enjoy. (They make travel versions of tons of games now: barrel of monkeys, trivia games, Sorry!, memory, cards, crosswords....)
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