Saturday, March 26, 2011

Day 42: The Power of Keys

March 26th, 2011


We signed the lease today. *teehee*

And subsequently spent the rest of the day and evening packing our abundant amounts of shit up. In the same amount of time my mom packed and tore down the living room, dining, room, and kitchen- I got half of my room done. Pathetic. I have lots of excuses, mostly concerning my hip, shakiness, not being able to breath, etc. etc. etc, but they are all boring.

Mom ordered pizza and we took a break talking outside while she had a cigarrette.

That is, until Connie and Mark showed up on their way to Blaine with their oldest grandson in tow. I think he's like 6 or 7. Cute as a button, and sweeter than sugar. After they left I think mom and I spent another hour and a half talking before we were both exhausted on the topic, and I don't think that has stopped either of our minds on it, just got us sick and tired of voicing our theories on the topic.

We go back and forth on whether there is deliberate action, or whether it is merely coincidental inconsiderate idiocy. We both agree that apologies need to be made. Either way, I'm sick and tired of the specifics and am not going to write an entire blog about it.


Holy crap! Dancing with the Stars! Generally speaking I really can't stand most of the talent shows. I don't care whether it's American Idol, America's Best Dance Crew, America's Got Talent, Dancing With The Stars, or any other caller based voting reality show. But how good was Kirstie Alley? I mean Really! I was pleased by her performance and it was easily one of the best of the entire night. I mean who doesn't like a good butt slapping and boob lifting in the middle of a Cha-Cha? *chuckle* She did us big girls proud. I might actually watch this season, what with Chris Jericho on it as well. It's amazing how short he is in real life. Shorter than I am, although I find most people I come across to be so. Without the Y2J girly hair he is even dare-I-say handsome. Ok, I dare to say it. He's HANDSOME!! But not as handsome as my husband of course... *wink*

On a whole I can't even stand Kirstie Alley. Perhaps I should rephrase. I can not stand Kirstie Alley when she opens her mouth. Thankfully when she is dancing she isn't talking, and when she finishes she is too tired to talk. Her dancing, however, I enjoyed. So good for her!


Geraldine Ferraro lost her battle with blood cancer today. Sucks. Hits home anytime I hear that someone died from blood cancer. Hits home hard. It's not lost on me how lucky I am to be alive.

My luck to be alive, however, does not mean I should let the world walk all over me and be happy about it. It just means that I know more than many folks what it means to truly and honestly be thankful for my life, which makes wanting to end it so devastating and guilt causing.



I've been getting to chat with my husband almost daily for the last several days. I am sure fellow military spouses and significant others can appreciate with me how great it is to be able to share some words when they are overseas. Many more spouses and significant others can appreciate what it's like to miss that person you love- especially when they are potentially in harms way. There is a constant grating on the nerves of worry that you won't ever hear from them again, or that someone will show up on your door with an "I'm sorry ma'am." Just thinking about the reality of the fear is enough to almost put me in tears. Then again I'm incredibly emotional. Up, down, in, out, I'm not sure whether I'm original or crispy recipe right now.


I AM READY TO MOVE TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

These keys were made for unlocking! And my new apartment is just WAITING to be unlocked tomorrow! Besides unpacking, I will have retail therapy to do tomorrow! And while I never really got a good feeling from shopping before, I do admit I enjoy a little economic support session now and then. Now the real question is whether mom will go half and half with me on a big screen t.v. for the living room? Hrm? HRM?

Or perhaps it would be beneficial to buy myself a workdesk? HRM? Who knows. All that is to be figured out tomorrow.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Day 41: More Pillows

March 25th, 2011

Fizzle is trying to suffocate me I swear. Any time I am about to talk, or type, she comes up and lays down on my chest, which is getting phlegmy. I am not a fan of having a hard time breathing or coughing up phlegm.

I fell asleep chatting with my husband, and woke up to drag queen's saluting the troops on t.v. I was extremely confused until I realized it was RuPaul's Drag Race. For those who haven't seen it- it amuses me. Greatly. Especially after yesterday and last nights marathon of The Real Housewives of New York.

I beaded my little heart out yesterday and today I just need a break. I guess. My best friend Tana taught me about beading on felt, and yesterday I was seriously struck with inspiration. I beaded until almost 4 a.m. I know my mom woke me up to take my meds at 6 a.m. but I have no recollection of it. There is a LOT I am finding that I'm not remembering lately and it is starting to scare me. I am glad that I was accepted into the psych study. I want to be emotionally and physically healthy for my husband- but if I can't be physically healthy, I at LEAST want to be able to deal with the stressful situations that will come up instead of reaching into darkness.

I have been completely out of it since Wednesday and the in-person interview. Today mom and I went to the bank to get money together for our new apartment we are moving into this weekend. I have no recollection whatsoever of handing her the bank card. None. At the gas tank I felt like I was watching myself. I am going completely crazy. CRAZY.


I almost have to change the channel this episode. Almost. I can only stand so many puns on being a transvestite and the name RuPaul before I want to pull my hair out. Condragulations, I already want to rip the skin off my shoulder to make it stop twinging, and now I want to rip out my hair. And honey, I've been growing this hair for almost three years.


Like I said to the interviewer on Wednesday when she asked, "Sometimes I feel like fighting leukemia and the left over effects has always been my life, and sometimes I feel none of it ever happened."

I've been able to walk lately- It's taken all the way until today to feel like I am nearing alright again after mom and I went out geocaching last, Yesterday I barely had to take any pain killers, and today as well. Really just when I'm being really active. Of course that's the way it started, pain with every step and just escalated from there-- but the fact it's getting back to that (at least close to that) really makes me feel like progress is being made in that area. I know the gabapentin is more to thank than the physical therapy exercises I do. I am usually in so much pain after I do those stupid exercises. Fuck them, I'm not doing them today.


Brain is still bouncing around. Feeling withdrawal effects. My hip is just... fucking rawr. I guess I should mention I write these entries either really fast, or over a matter of many many hours. This one is taking quite a few hours for me to write. I can't seem to focus on one specific thing. I can't even pick up the beading I was doing yesterday. I can't stay focused on the t.v. I can't focus on the blog, I'm feeling static in my head.

It's not the same ol' brainfog like after treatment, this feels like static. FRUSTRATION.


Besides the frustration how happy am I to be moving? SUPER HAPPY! It's not the original place we had worked with obviously-- that fell through at the beginning of the week, but yesterday mom and I went apartment hunting and found a place we can live with. Really I think she just bent to my will- Mom is horrible about doing that, but I appreciate it all the same. Who doesn't like getting their way? Especially when there are extremely valid arguments for what you want?

The apartment itself is a bit smaller, it is set up differently, but the complex and its amenities are fabulous. Indoor and outdoor pools, sauna, spa, racquetball, full sized basketball court. It's all going to be great. It's all going to be great. It's all going to be great. It's all going to be great. Right?



I need more pillows.

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Day 39: A Positive Mind

March 23rd, 2011

So much has happened today. So much and not much at the same time. I feel confused. Blurred. Just out of whack.

Today was really hard for me. I've been dreading today, with a kind of morbid fascination of how I would be able to handle it. I had my in-person interview to be part of the study protocol for therapeutic treatment of women who self-harm or attempt suicide with Borderline Personality Disorder and PTSD. Unfortunately I qualify with flying colors. In the interview today, over five hours I answered questions about events that have happened in my life and how I have dealt with them.

It's not easy to answer questions about events that have brought so much pain that you don't even want to live anymore. It's hard to explain feeling that way, and not succumb to the depths of the feeling itself. At least it is hard for me.

The altercation with my dad, being raped, going crazy, attempting suicide, getting sick, almost dying without choice, medical uncertainty, betrayals, emotion disregulation- how often, how many times, when, where, what color.... answer these questions, what's the meaning of lugubrious? Hell if I know what it meant, but I could spell it.

That's beyond the point. The point is just that I feel overwhelmed right now. Overwhelmed, and like I don't want anything to do with anyone. I'm bouncing being depressed and suicidal, more depressed than suicidal. And then I feel ashamed. And then guilty, and then unworthy- and then a failure, and back to depressed and suicidal. I still have wine, but I'm not going to try and cure my depression with a depressant. That's just stupid. It was nice yesterday- at least until mom got home and then I just felt angry and annoyed and frusrated again.

It's not her fault that the building changed their mind after a week. So my anger at her is irrational. But I just get SO angry. I feel so... everything above already, and then to be told that I'm not good enough to be even added to a bank account, I'm not good enough to even get a key to a building that they will 'still allow me to be an occupant in'. How do you deal when you already have all of the feelings of worthlessness and of being a failure and then am dealt that blow too?

And I know the answer is 'You just keep going.' And that's what I'm doing. I'm just keeping going.

**pout** But I don't want to. I don't want to deal with ANYTHING. **pout**


Jeremy Morlock was sentenced to jail for murder for the next 24 years of his life for killing an Afghani civillian for sport. Sport. It just... sucks. To hear someone you knew as a kid of being involved in something so heinous is just frightening. Just like hearing about my high school friend Clayton being charged with murdering his daughter- I cannot fathom that he would or could do such a thing. Never intentionally at least- And I wish I could ask him what happened- I wish I could tell everyone that there is no way the Clayton I knew could ever hurt anything, let alone a baby girl. His baby girl. Or my dad's old best friend-- what he did to his wife. I cannot fathom the true atrocities that people do.

Or to hear about my mom's ex-boyfriend stabbing his next girlfriend with a box cutter. I thank God for sparing my mother that pain, and ask Him at the same time why we all have to endure the trials we are faced with.

Being beaten, shot, stabbed, raped, diagnosed with leukemia- How is it decided who should endure what? I am reminded of the saying that God doesn't give you what you can't handle. I disagree. I find he often gives people things they cannot handle. If they could handle it, there would be no murder or suicide. People would not give up all hope. Or those that gave it all up, would be saved. Isn't that also what is said? Give it all to Him, and you will be saved.

Obviously I'm feeling some intense anger towards "The Big Librarian in the Sky."


I am simultaneously angry with Him, and understanding. I know that there are things that I will understand that so many people will not. There are people that I can help just by understanding what they are feeling, or by sharing the many things that I think or feel. I know that somewhere, someone thinks, "Me Too." And in that way, that's how I'm coping.

Not just keeping going. I'm trying to turn my anger into something positive. A negative plus a negative is a positive. A positive added to a positive equals a positive.

If only I could approach everything with a positive mind.


Charlie Sheen kissing Jimmie Kimmel made a black ex-con freak out about being homosexual? Well that's not something I expected to learn tonight. Go figure.

Too bad we can't blame Charlie Sheen's crazy behavior on the nuclear reactor in Japan.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Day 38: Wine and McDonalds

March 22nd, 2011

Our new apartment managers call us a week later after approving us to move in and say that I'm not approved.


You took my $40, said "Yes! You are Approved!" filled out a bunch of paperwork, and everything was fine for a week. And then they changed their mind? After a week? And then I have mom, sitting there like "well I was still approved, so we can still move in, you just can't have a key to get in the building." HUH?

And WHY would I choose to live in a building I can't even enter? No. No. No. No. No.

Get our deposit back, count our losses, and we'll find somewhere else to go.


I am so mad at my mom right now. I am SO MAD AT HER. I am mad that she brought me here, mad that I had to get rid of my animal children, mad that I have nowhere but here to be, and I am about ready to be done with it.

I've got $3k in my pocket. I have a car outside. Fuck all of this. I don't even care about all of the stuff I have here. Pack a bag, load up the animals, and find somewhere warm.

Who am I kidding, there's nowhere for me to go anyway. Noone wants me and my animals so what's the fucking point.


I just got back from QFC and McDonalds. I'm drinking wine and eating french fries. I can't decide whether this is the bomb, or whether it's so sad I want to cuddle under my blanket and sleep.

The McFlurry may have been a bit too much. Yeah. Yeah. I really should have known better than that. I find I make a lot of questionable judgements on impulse. Although to those people around me that is no surprise. It's not even surprising to me, but it still feels weird to admit to myself in black and white.


I've spent the last four hours nibbling on the rest of my McDonald's and drinking the bottle of wine I bought at QFC. Feeling caged. Trapped. A little drunk. I suppose the equivalent of a bottle or more of wine (I bought a BIG bottle) will do that. It's been three months since I've had anything to drink, I guess I forgot. Although as quickly as I feel a little buzzed, it goes away again. I feel like I'm chasing the buzz and that's SO annoying. It's moments like this I would just like a shot glass and some Tequila Rose. BAM. Yes. That would achieve the drunk I have been looking for. Of course I'm also afraid to drink, hence the reason I've been eating the whole time and not actually getting the drunk feeling.


I must be an obnoxiously bad person. Because as soon as something good happens, something bad happens just as quick.


I should take my own advice and look at the positives in my life.

1. I'm alive. I'm constantly in unbelievable amounts of pain (literally, most people don't believe me), sick, and likely looking at killing myself by not taking 95% of my medications, but hey, I'm alive right now, and apparently that's all that counts in this category.

2. I'm loved. By my husband who is thousands of miles away in a foreign country doing his duty for our country, however backwards our country is at times. We have freedom, but that freedom isn't free. By my mother who will do anything for my well-being, even if it means she gets minimal sleep or is broke as a joke. By my Kai-Guy, Fizz-Kitty, and Qari-Bug who never let me down and always are willing to cuddle with me when I'm having a bad day, especially if food is involved. By my best friends; DeeDee, Tana, & Halee in particular, who have been there for me through thick, thin, and all the in-between, and have unflinchingly given of their time when I was in need of them. By my father, who loves me, even if he's about as great at showing it as I am at calling the people I care about. By my brother. By other people who think they love me, but really don't know what loving someone like family (by my definition) means.

3. I'm cared about. By the people who love me, the people who think they love me, and by people who hate me who care enough about me to attempt to stalk me.

4. I have a roof over my head, food in my belly, and clothes on my back.

5. I have miscellaneous creature comforts. A netbook, cable, a wii, a dsi, art supplies, an almost empty wine bottle, etc.

6. I... uhhh... fuck it.

MMmmm McNuggets.

Monday, March 21, 2011

Day 37: I *will* hit 'publish'

March 21st, 2011

I bought colored sharpies today. I couldn't help myself. I have so many art inspirations that I am not able to pursue. I REALLY REALLY REALLY wish I had my scrapbook stuff. I miss having all of my craft things. I feel like I have to start over. I feel like that's what I've had to do here, over and over again, start over.

I am so excited for mom and I to be moving to our own apartment in Renton. Next weekend! Unfortunately almost all the costs will fall on my shoulders, but that's what I get for being the driving force in getting out of this current residence. There is nothing wrong 'per se' with the domicile itself. It is just the circumstances that surround it. The owners and landlords of this house are my mom's close friends, which has put so much strain on their friendship since I was brought back to Washington. My mom was right to bring me back to Washington with her. I know in my heart that had she left me there, I would have attempted to kill myself again, and I would have succeeded.

It was inevitable that strain would be placed on their friendship when they insisted that only one animal come back with me. One? No. Sorry. I understand that they had needed at one point to rescue their daughter from a bad situation and the one animal rule was enforced, but this is not the same situation. I was not rescued from a bad marriage. My husband and I are still very much in love and in a committed relationship- we have animals together. I am not going to just get rid of our cat that has been with us almost as long as we've been together (10+ years), and I'm not going to get rid of my chihuahua who my mom calls "her grandpuppy". That right there is two. In addition, I am not going to get rid of my other cat that I nursed back to health from 2 weeks of age who suckles on my lip. And how am I not supposed to get upset giving my great dane to a rescue after having her for over two years and spending thousands of dollars on her(total)? It's merely impossible. I am not their daughter. I am my mother's daughter, and I am so thankful for that it is almost ridiculous.

There have still been many times here that I have wanted to kill myself. Even today the desire to just not exist still crosses my mind. I get tired of the pain. Not only in my hip, but now in my shoulder and neck as well. I get tired of being alone. I get tired of being trapped in my room when my mom isn't here.

My mom and I joked yesterday at Wal-Mart. I said how I was excited and crazy and I was going to decorate my room like a 14 year old girl. She said that fit for me. It was like a dagger. I feel like a 14 year old girl. I'm 27 years old now, but I am trapped at home unless my mom drives me somewhere. I don't even get to go to school. I am controlled by my body's limitations, my emotional stability, and my doctor's suggestions. I am stranded in my own imaginary isolation ward, with three furry companions.

The whole suicide subject came up because of an interaction I saw on facebook last night. Someone made a comment to my best friend that, in my view and opinion, was not only pointless, but unnecessary and inflammatory. The rude comment sparked a lot of anger in myself, as well as my best friend. The situation didn't end the best, and as such I don't want to spark a new flame to it- only to say that when it is obvious someone is having a bad day (such as is stated in that specific status) it is completely counterproductive and pointless to make a statement that in no way comforts or enhances the situation in a positive light.

The person that made the pointless comment, is the same person that told me last November the late night and early morning before seriously trying to kill myself that while I had a bone marrow donor, noone was there for an ex-friend of mine. Which was the same ex-friend who I had pulled every string I could to get the money to fly her and her animals to Texas and for their vet bills, and who my brother married so she could have medical benefits for herself and her unborn child because he cared about her. The same ex-friend that treated me like shit the whole time she was in Texas, and wouldn't do anything, except to say "I was going to do that" any time I already started doing something, despite the fact I was on a shitload of morphine and in craptons of pain. But hey, she was pregnant, so that trumps everything right? Maybe if she didn't shit on everyone that was there for her, she'd have more people to support her??

I don't have any sympathy for her, not after all the lying she did to me, the lying and using she did, the continous lying she has continued to do- Pity party for one. She would have had everything she needed but she chose to screw that all up for herself by treating me like crap and talking shit to her friends, WHILE she talked shit about them to ME! HAH!

You know, I lived with her sister for months and not once wanted to kill myself. After one month of being around my ex-friend I was in the ICU. And while I was in the ICU, she was on facebook saying "she hoped she didn't get kicked out." Kicked out by WHOM? My husband who was and is overseas fighting for her right to be a completely obnoxious lying BITCH? Yeah. Especially since I had never said one word about kicking her out. I had told her that I was moving to Washington, and I didn't care if she chose to stay here or go back to Alaska after her best friend had written a malicious comment on a status of mine. I also talked to my brother in the morning about him and her taking over the lease, but since she never talked to him she wouldn't know that, because at that point, she had already lied to shelters and law enforcement saying I was kicking out a 6 month old pregnant woman who didn't have any place to go. And having a cop come to my front door and tell me that I couldn't kick her out (when I had not said a FUCKING word about that) was my last straw. She broke me right then. Congratulations Ex-Friend. You are a complete douche.

WOW. That felt good to get out of my system.

Excuse me while I attempt to compose myself.


So I sent boxes to my husband and my brother today. I know my husband does, but I hope my brother appreciates it.

I'm just surrounded by negative energy right now. Negative. Negative as in the opposite of positive. I don't understand why everyone expects me to be positive all of the time. I mean really? Is that even possible if you aren't a Stepford Wife?



Ok, I'm positive again. I'm going to play with my colored sharpies now.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Day 23: To Go or Not To Go.. To Court..

March 7th, 2011

This weekend I received a noticed from the Municipal Court of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. It is a summons to appear in court on the fifteenth of March, to explain why I did not appear in court on the 24th of February. I can explain that right now.

I had absolutely no idea I was supposed to BE in court on the 24th.

I have been waiting for weeks for a notice of some sort for a court date that I knew was going to come, but I have not received anything whatsoever. Well, until this notice. Oh yeah, and I cannot leave state when I have IV infusions every 8 hours for Meningitis.

"So what are you going to do Maria?" I don't have any effing clue. Mom looked online on legalzoom, and of course there were no matches for my case. Go figure. I should call JAG, but there is just a huge part of me that doesn't want to deal with JAG. I'm so... scared of them.

Stupid I know, but it's true. Plus I don't want to have to drive all the way down to Ft. Lewis. I don't want a lot of things, but I guess what I want is pretty much out of the question anyways so I better just buck up for this one.

I mean seriously, I'm being charged with a misdemeanor for flipping someone the bird and calling her a crazy fucking bitch after she freaks out on us (Tana and Myself) for parking in a handicap parking spot (which I happen to have a permit for) in the Wal-Mart parking lot of Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. She was completely the aggressor, but of course because SHE happened to be an off-duty police officer, I'm up shit creek without a paddle.

Can we say abuse of power? Come on, say it with me! "A-bee-yoos uh-f Pow-wer"


On another note, I am at home. I came home on Saturday after going to Radiology to receive a PICC line. A PICC line is actually a "Peripherally Inserted Central Catheter". Basically it is an IV that reaches to your heart. The difference between the one I have and a normal PICC line, is that regularly a PICC line would be placed in a person's arm. Mine, however, is placed right under my collar-bone in the subclavian vein. This is because the chemotherapy and bone marrow transplant have pretty much screwed my arm veins and none of them were viable to put a line through.

So they sent me home Saturday, and set me up with a home-health nurse. She came to the house at about 8:30 p.m. Saturday night and showed me how to use this IV system. She also brought with her all of the IV medications I would need until today when my Monday nurse would be here.


Today my nurse *D showed up at 10:30 a.m. She took my vitals, drew blood, and went through the check of systems. Then she chit-chatted with us for a little while and went on her way.


OH! Yesterday mom and I went and ran a bunch of errands, and I ended up buying girl scout cookies, and as a birthday gift to myself I also bought the new Pokemon game, White version as well as the official strategy guide. So far I am greatly enjoying it, and it has let me escape reality WONDERFULLY.


The problem with all of this happening right on top of each other, is that my emotional response becomes out of control. For whatever reason, I can't keep myself together. I become extremely agitated and defensive.

I hate that I am putting so much on mom's plate. I know that we are working together on this, but so much is being put on her plate, because of the fact that I can't seem to hold it together. She recognizes it though, and knows that I would take control of it if I could. It feels like such a load of crack considering I seem to be able to type about it calmly, but it's like watching myself. I can't stop it when it starts happening, and it's like my mind goes somewhere else and some other part of me takes over spitting out venom in all directions.


I woke up at 10:26 p.m. After mom left for work I couldn't keep my eyes open. My 2 p.m. infusion just put me to sleep. It was SO hard to stay awake until the end of it. I fell asleep repeatedly, and am so thankful for my alarm.

Friday, March 4, 2011

Day 20: Look Ma! I'm a Pincushion!

March 4th, 2011

EARLY in the a.m. Bachary (the male student nurse) performed his first IV. On me. In one stick. He is a superstar.

Very sweet, very concentrated, very concerned that he was hurting me at all. Not fussing with only the showy superficial veins you can see through the skin easily (that it seems SO many go for because apparently noone teaches people how to stick by touch anymore). He found the one he wanted, tested it, and followed through. It wasn't perfect, he was obviously very nervous but he did a great job. I've had a lot of IV's, I've had 3 successful IV's and I'm not even sure how many unsuccessful attempts. I know I've got bruises all over my arms and hands.


Later on in the a.m. when I woke up from one of my many night-time hourly naps between vitals or blood draws, or hanging a new dose of IV antivirals, I was actually able to look side to side and up and down without feeling the intense stiffness in my neck. Still feeling pain through my collarbone and shoulder, but I'll take the small accomplishments.


Everyone complains that my room is too hot, but I'm comfortable! It's set at 80*F in my room. Or at least it was, now it is set at 72*F and I'm getting seriously cold. The Texas heat ruined me. I like it hot.


I am starting to write my book. At least that is giving me a focus for right now.


The draft was saved at 3:00 p.m. I fell asleep and then slept until Dr. Chung woke me up at my bedside. He is handsome, no lie. Somehow I am blessed with a bevy of handsome doctors. I almost feel like I have my own little harem of hot doctors. *chuckle*

He asked me how I felt about going home today. I told him how I felt depended on what it was going to take to make sure I didn't get sick again. (Howler is just going and going and I am swiftly losing my patience with it. Stroke or no, he can have a LITTLE conscientiousness about the rooms adjacent to him and quit howling ALL THE TIME). Truth be told I'm nervous about going home. I always get nervous about leaving the hospitol.

Basically he went over what Dr. Eeny had said. I would need a PICC line. I've had one before, but that doesn't make me excited for another. I told him that I would have to get ahold of my mom.


I feel like such a little kid, always having to say "I have to call my mom," or having to tell people I live with my mom, or always having to have my mom there. I don't just have to, I also choose to. She is my best friend besides being my mom, and my biggest supporter. She has been with me through everything. Even when we were estranged she was there for me as much as I would let her be. Do I want to be living with my mom? I love being with my mom, I love living with my mom, I love my mom. She accepts me for who I am, and knows when I am upset to not take me personally, even if it's hard.


After Dr. Chung left, I fell asleep again until Dr. Eeny came in. He affirmed that the plan was for me to get a PICC line tonight, and be discharged in the morning. Well! Goodness! Ok!

So I called my mom, left her a message knowing she was busy at work, and all of a sudden, in walked a nurse letting me know they were there to do my PICC line. Right then! AH HAH! Hah. hah. hrm. ok. I went with it. I told them before how my first PICC line after months of use the skin became infected at the entry site and they were going to insert one in my left arm, but there was no appropriate vein.

They decided they would check, I have no problem with that. They found one they thought would work, got everything set up, and then SHA-BAM! The vein disappeared. Yep. And there is no vein on the right apparently right now either that is appropriate. So, I am S.O.L. on a PICC line for now. A little bit glad, hopefully my mom can be here with me tomorrow when we find out what is going to happen next. Tomorrow is Saturday, so are we going to have to wait until Monday? Who knows.

What I do know, is that I need...

CHRIST! I almost had a massive breakdown heart attack. The nurse was leaving my room and I looked up at the news right as they said a soldier's name and rank who just died overseas. The soldier held the same rank and last name as my husband, and that is all that I heard. My heart dropped to my knees since that was the end of the segment. I didn't hear where it happened, or what the full name of the soldier was. I googled it immediately, obviously if it was on the news it would come up- and it did. Thankfully it was not my husband, but my heart still hurts for the soldiers family and friends.

I have no idea what I was going to say before that just happened. I've reread above and I still have no idea what I was going to say I need. All I can think about is my husband right now, and it is very hard for me to do much of anything. I get very sad, lonely, scared, frustrated, upset, did I mention scared? Not only for his well-being, but for mine, for our future. I don't feel full of hope right now. I feel kind of empty. I feel like I'm a dancer in an elaborately choreographed ballet. I feel like I'm stuck in the middle of a solo dance, and even know I know my partner is backstage, I can't reach him, and the spotlight is blinding me. Spinning wildly. Chaos.

I'm not sure how but that brougth me full circle in thought to Dr. Eeny. I am off isolation restriction. There's a small part of my mind doing the happy dance.

I'm sorry, I'm just not in the mood to type anymore. The fear of that news broadcast took a lot out of me. I think I just want to sleep now. Hope for happy dreams.

Day 19: Meningitis Anyone?

March 3rd, 2011

I'm hoping to get out of isolation restriction within the next couple of days.

I've been in the hospitol now for a little while, somehow it feels like I've always been here. I wonder if I ever actually leave or if those are just dreams?

Yesterday morning they performed a lumbar puncture in order to check my spinal fluid. Preliminary results showed white cells were in fact in my spinal fluid. The doctor tells me, "Meningitis". What can be done for it? Exactly what they are already doing to clear up the shingles that my body can't seem to get ahold of on it's own.

I've spent most of today sleeping, just naturally sleeping. It felt really nice to not be woken up every few hours.

This morning at some ungodly hour I was woken up by my nurse Charlotte who was very sweet over the speaker in my room. I was in the middle of REM sleep, In my dream, I had just been shot and had fallen to the pavement outside a store. In my dream, I heard my name, "Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria," like the vibrating sound of an Angel about to tell you that you can finally quit suffering. Then I woke up, and realized the voice was coming from the speaker above my bed. And i was, indeed, in the Hospitol.


Emotionally I am having a very hard time not feeling bitter. This morning I was very down. I've felt a mixture between feeling completely hopeless, and then absolutely detached, and then accepting, and then back to feeling hopeless.

I feel like everytime I make a breakthrough, every single time I feel like I am making progress towards my life goals, I get SLAMMED back. And people tell me "this is just a curveball, you'll get around it!". Of COURSE I'll get around it, but what next? What is going to happen next time? All I can say is something GREAT better be happening this year. I am hoping this is leading to something good.

That this is serving another purpose that I just don't know yet.


I just got up to use the restroom. This infusion of meds was started a little while ago, and my arm has felt funy since it started. I ignored it, and I have been keeping the lights off in my room because of the extreme sensitivity to light that I am having. Well, it's got a nice huge lump going on, and I'm not entirely happy about it.

I used the call button, and told them that my IV is blowing. I've had this IV since the first of March, and it is almost the fourth.

The nurse that came in wasn't my nurse. It wss a black male student nurse, whose name I cannot remember. Bachary? Thackery? Zachary? Something like that. What I know Is that he took a look at it, and I still had to point out the huge hard, growing in size lump that is continuing to grow in my arm. Somehow, I don't think it's a good thing.


On another note, my room borders a poor guy who had a really bad stroke (at least that's all I've been told). He gets frustrated, and so he starts yelling. Or rather, howling. If he isn't howling, his music is loud. Loud and extremely annoying. Right now, he seems to be having an issue as well, He's howling. And it's not helping my mood with my arm.

I do not want to explode on these people.

I can stay in control of my emotions and my reactions.


Why do they say "Get involved in your healthcare" when they don't want you involved?

I'm effing pissed.


God bless my mother, who is stopping by McDonald's on her way home from work to bring me two cheeseburgers and a coca-cola. The sad thing is, I'm not hungry. Not in the slightest bit. Just thirsty as crap. I have downed over four liters of fluids in the last few hours.


I don't know why my arm doesn't hurt when it is obvious that the IV is infiltrating. The nurse just came in, she apologized for taking so long, but took only a couple of looks at it and stopped the IV. A new one will have to be started because the medication is a must-have. Meningitis doesn't mess around, and I don't want to mess around with my brain. I happen to love my brain. As should everyone.