One more time around the sun, one more time passing through National Infertility Awareness Week as an unintentionally childless woman. I guess you could say this is my third time.
It’s an understatement to say that a lot has gotten in the way of my attempts to become a mom.
In 2014, not long after we had starting trying to get pregnant, my battle with endometriosis took the forefront. Within a span of six months, I was hospitalized, diagnosed, and had two surgeries, one of which was out of state with an excision specialist. Then recovery began, and our efforts to get pregnant resumed in 2015.
I’ve always been a difficult person to be friends with. And I’m not easy to love.
Although life didn’t start out that way. One day in pre-school, my mom was shocked to see me sitting at a table with all the little boys in the class crowding around me, the only girl at the table. If only I had such admiration ten years later!
In all seriousness, I think a lot of my friend-making difficulty stems from my social anxiety, which started baring its teeth around the age of nine. There were really a lot of people who didn’t like me for reasons explained in that post, and it scarred me for life. I still remember the torment and how it made me feel. I was always the smart one, not the pretty one, and brains didn’t earn you many friends. Middle school and high school were awful for obvious reasons, so I was thrilled to go to college over 400 miles away from home where I didn’t know a soul. Friendships were much easier to maintain there because everyone was starting on a clean slate.
But it’s now been almost seven years since I graduated from pharmacy school. I’m almost seven years into my career. But for the past ten months, I’ve been on medical leave in order to have and recover from three surgeries in a four-month period: hernia repair, brain tumor removal, and aneurysm stenting. However, just as I was about to go back to work, POTS happened, likely as a result of all those surgeries. And having POTS sucks incredibly. It’s not something I would wish on my worst enemy.
Sometimes the only way to get the best care is to take things into your own hands. I’ve done it before, and now I’ve had to do it again. But I’m glad I did.
Dr. J had told me to call his office about a week after my testing that occurred on January 11th and January 13th to talk to a nurse about my results. So I called on Thursday the 19th. They said they’d call me back in a few days. Nothing. So I called again Monday the 23rd. The said to give it “one more day.” Nothing. I sent a MyChart message Wednesday politely demanding the results be released and for someone to call me to discuss them. Last Thursday night most of my test results were released to MyChart, but with no explanation, so I had no idea what they meant. So I called the office Friday morning to see what the heck was going on. Continue reading “I’m a Little POTSie…”
Start humming “Auld Lang Syne.” (Seriously, just work with me here.)
“Your grace will never be forgot
Your mercy all my life
Will be my soul’s forever song
My story and my light…”
It’s easy for me to sit here and bash 2016 for what a horrendous year it was. I’ve already done a pretty good job of that in my personal journal.
I am not yet done grieving the past year and what it did to me. But I would be remiss if I said that nothing good came out of this year. I almost have to grit my teeth saying that, because I want nothing more than to scream and cry and release some serious emotions about this trash heap of a year. But not knowing what is to come in 2017, maybe 2016 can at least go out on a high note.
As the year is (finally!) drawing to a close, I decided to go back and look at some of my old posts to see how life has changed in the past six months since I started this blog. My goal was, and still is, to raise awareness about certain chronic health issues that affect me, including endometriosis, adenomyosis, infertility, depression, self harm, social anxiety, celiac disease, pituitary tumor, and I guess that pesky little aneurysm.
“It’s hard to find motivation to do anything at times like this. It’s hard to cope or to even see through the fog at all when your mind is so focused on something that it wants so much. Recover. Not just physically, but emotionally. Let things settle, and yes, that means let it all out. Grieve. This is a grieving process.” ~London Blogger Friend
London Blogger Friend and I don’t actually know each other. We just follow each other’s blogs. But we’ve developed an interesting relationship in that we somehow understand each other, even though we’re going through vastly different, yet somewhat similar, life battles at present. The comments we leave each other on blog posts are often long enough to be blog posts themselves. We’re somehow invested in each other and each other’s well being, despite the fact that I don’t even know her name, and I’m not sure if she knows mine.
She gave me the above advice recently regarding my ongoing struggle with infertility, which always becomes an open wound at the holidays, especially this year. Because this was supposed to be the year. Guaranteed. But because nothing good can happen to me in regards to health for the last four years…and I’m not sure how optimistic I am about next year either.