So, what to expect? A little of everything, with a bit of the usual snark and skepticism sprinkled in (per usual).
I've missed blogging terribly, but it was impractical after the unfortunate and untimely death of my macbook pro. I purchased that laptop in fall 2011, and in May 2012, while watching the movie Twister (? why?) and fighting a raging fever, I leaned over to grab some water so I could sling back some advil. And of course, in my fever haze, I knocked the glass over, and the contents spilled exactly into the side of my closed laptop (which wasn't even particularly close by), which was propped up against the wall, charging. Since it was the side containing all the ports, I knew the chances of resurrection were slim.
At that point, I grabbed the computer and flipped it the other way, attempting to dump out all the water inside. I threw real-people clothes on to take the computer up to the Apple store, and my (now ex) boyfriend decided to turn it on (without asking me), just to see if the trip was necessary. While the water was still inside. I was furious, but still kicking myself, because after all, I was the one who essentially knifed my computer via aqua in the first place.
Here's an important tip for all you hip mac users: don't buy the warranty for your laptop. It covers essentially nothing. I love Apple products to death, but that's a load of BS.
So in the end, the damages estimate was $1,250. The computer itself was over $2000 when I originally purchased it seven months earlier. Naturally, I weeped big fat mascara tears all over the counter, because I was already jobless, recovering from a hysterectomy, and swimming in a pool of debt ten thousand times larger than that lovely glass of water.
I've been computer-less since then, and surviving basically via iphone 4 and first gen ipad (which crashes several times a day). This made uploading new jewelry on Etsy a rare event, as neither of said devices allows uploading pictures.
However, over Christmas, I received a glorious new Nikon camera with a fabulous lens that kicks my trusty little iphone camera's ass, so things were starting to head in the right direction (I hadn't had a nice camera in a few years, which is necessary in jewelry picture land). Santa knew what was up.
A week and a half ago, after a million and one surgeries, I found my sickly self back in the emergency room at the hospital where I had my last three surgeries in October and December.
Dehydrated, vomiting, and in torturous pain, I was admitted. I was so dehydrated in the beginning that the nurses had to try three different areas to try and collect blood and put in an IV.
I'm going to try to keep this health story short, but I will explain more about adhesions soon, because they are the culprit of much of my horrendous health issues. The bottom line is this: I have a sucky immune system which overacts and attacks itself and heals incorrectly. The overcompensation of healing creates adhesions, which are fibrous bands stick organs together like gluey rubber bands. I don't have much left in my stomach (organ-wise) for the adhesions to attach to, but they decided to camp out on my intestine (at/on/near/around the stump where my appendix used to be), and during my last surgery (which was a mere two weeks after the surgery before THAT one), my doc was unable to excise all of the adhesions.
During my post-op appointment following my December 22nd surgery, my doctor and I discussed the grim reality of the next month: a probable intestine resection. Since the adhesions keep growing in that same place, and at an astronomical rate (in a mere week), he contacted a few other surgeons, and a few days into my hospital visit, I met with Dr. Ayoola. We discussed several options and complications, and after much thinking, worrying, praying, and talking, I came to the decision that the resection was my only shot.
I was scared out of my mind.
Up to that point, I'd had sixteen surgeries. I've had a knee osteotomy in which my tibia bone cut and propped up with cadaver bone. I've my appendix and gallbladder out. I've had a total hysterectomy. I'm a surgery pro, and usually don't even get nervous about surgeries until about an hour before, or even right before they wheel me back.
But after listening to all the complications, risks, long recovery, etc etc, that crap scared the bejesus out of me.
Apparently, while the part of your intestine that is cut out and stitched back together is healing, you have to have a tube in your nose/throat that goes down to your stomach and removes all the crap out before it can really digest so that your intestines have a chance to heal calmly and cleanly. But the tube stays in for days. While you're awake. And it's a less than pleasant experience.
I really had no choice, though. So over the course of eight timed hours, I forcibly drank a GALLON (no joke, one gallon) of a medicine cleverly named "Go Lightly." Only it's probably spelled something like "go-litly" in an attempt to still sound medicine-y, and I can personally attest to the fact that that crap lives up to its name.
You see, unless it's a dire emergency, doctors always want your stomach clean before hand for any type of surgery, so that if any intestine or bowel is accidentally perforated during surgery, you won't get sepsis or dysentery or something and die, Oregon trail-style.
At any rate, by the eighth torturous hour, and after my nighttime cocktail of medicines and IV injections, I attempted to sleep, with a heavy heart, pleading with God for everything to go smoothly, for this to be my last operation for a long while, and for the surgeon and surgical team to perform to the best of their abilities.
Right before the anesthesiologists (for some reason, there were two) put me under, I started to freak. the. hell. out. I was on the table. The nurses were wrapping me in warm blankets (the OR is usually about 50 degrees), and I was on the verge of tears, which has never happened in my entire life. I verbalized just how severely terrified I was, just in case the unattractive, petrified expression of sheer terror wasn't enough. I heard one of the anesthesiologists say, "push propophyl" (sp?). Usually, docs give you a drug called Versed while they're wheeling you into the OR that makes you feel drunk/high/like you've taken a thousand ambien and are floating on a cloud of happy. They gave me the Versed at the same time as the anesthesia this time, and assured me that in thirty seconds, I'd be asleep. So, per usual, I stared at the enormous silver light shining down on my body, and my ears started ringing and everything got hazy, and I was out.
I woke up feeling sore in my throat (they tube your throat during surgery to breathe for you), and in my groggy state, I was already worried already about the 3-4 day dreaded nose/throat tube.
Then the recovery nurse told me that they didn't have to resect my intestines after all.
If I hadn't been so sore or groggy, I would have been weeping tears of joy.
I have no idea how it happened, but the adhesions on my intestine were gone, or had migrated to the side of my stomach wall.
Dr. Ayoola carefully excised the adhesions and the extra material from the accelular grafts and amniotic grafts that didn't take during the last three surgeries**, and there was no need for any resection.
** to be clear, the accelular grafts actually did help two areas, and Dr. Dulemba - my regular surgeon - did an excellent job, but for whatever reason, my stupid right side was rejecting everything like you would the kid with a looney tunes tie and bad breath at a middle school dance in 1999 (true story).
Anyway, I needed a win, and I can't even begin to explain how INCREDIBLY thankful I am that I didn't have to go through that. It was nothing short of a miracle. This kind of stuff doesn't just happen. It was a pure miracle.
I had so many friends rooting for me, and without getting sappy and misty-eyed, I'll just say this: I'm blessed and thankful.
Yes, 2012 was a roller coaster I moved in with my boyfriend. We adopted a wonderful puppy. I had a total hysterectomy. I joined Etsy Fort Worth. I was diagnosed with Lupus, Raynaud's, Sjogren's, Fibromyalgia, and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (on top of already having Endometriosis, Interstitial Cystitis, and adhesion-related problems). I worked my first shows selling jewelry. I had four surgeries. I went through a bad break-up involving lame emotional/verbal abuse. I reconciled with my brother and became close with him again. I moved back with my parents temporarily. I fell into big medical debt. Lots of ups/downs.
But throughout the ups and downs, my friends and family wrapped their arms around me physically and emotionally with prayers, good vibes, positive thoughts, and above all, immense love.
Sometimes falling hard gives people the chance to show unconditional love and support, which ultimately helps everyone grow. I know that sounds so after-school special and all, but seriously. I have some pretty fabulous friends and fam.
And speaking of friends family, I arrived home yesterday to a gorgeous bouquet of flowers from Rachel and Bonnie, a slew of messages and well wishes on my phone, and an early (and very generous) birthday present from my parents: a brand spankin' new ThinkPad laptop :)
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