Desperation, saving face, and moving on quickly
Oy. This damn leg, I swear to God...
So I went to back to see my bff the surgeon last Tuesday and it's taken me the week to get over it. My swollen knee made him a little worried about infection, so he wanted to get a sample to send to the lab. Let me tell you, he'd make a good interrogator. Why, you ask? He ended up aspirating my knee, sans numbing medication. What does that mean, you ask? Disclaimer: this is a little gross.
When he took fluid out of my knee the last time, it didn't feel great; it also wasn't the worst. I laid on the table waiting for it...then I'm pretty sure he stabbed a machete into my knee. It knocked the wind out of me, my back arched, and all my muscles tensed up. And it didn't stop for about 2 full minutes. It hurt like a bitch, I could feel the needle moving, and I'm pretty sure I could feel the crap coming out of my knee. It was fucking awful. Seriously fucking awful. When he finally finished making my life miserable, the syringe was full of junk. And it wasn't a regular, small syringe. It was 60 some ccs of unhappiness.
I sat back up to get the skinny on what would happen next, and it only took about 20 seconds before I started to feel off. The Dr. Bff told me I looked a little woozy. Well, yes, I did feel like I might pass out from the IMMENSE PAIN you just caused me. So I had to lay back down, where I cried just a little bit, then get up in stages so I wouldn't faint and crack my head open.
In my defense, the nurse was shocked that he didn't numb it. My assumption is that I'm a total BAMF for not dying.
Back at the office, while I limped around on my seriously sore and swollen leg (but looking fantastically adorable whilst doing so), I had a visitor. It happened to be Hermes, Harry's brother that I had run into the weekend before. (Okay, just for the record, I do not think he's godlike...but he's all into sports and stuff). It was a nice little visit and we had a nice little chat.
It turns out the anger in my knee is not an infection. That's good news, I think. The bad news is that it's still swollen and stupid. It doesn't really hurt, but it's very uncomfortable. It's making me walk weird again (the other day my boss said it reminded her of Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas. Do movies need to be underlined? I don't care enough to look it up. It's there now) and the weird walking is making my foot swollen and sore. The problem is, I can't really figure out how to walk right. It's also (again) keeping me from sleeping. So most days I just try to stay awake and not scowl at anyone too intensely. I have to take an unhealthy amount of anti-inflammatories for a couple of weeks and see Dr. Bff if it doesn't help. My thoughts? If it was going to help (or the ice or elevation), it would be doing that by now. But I'm also not a doctor. So I'll be a good girl.
Feeling kind of brave, I ended up asking Hermes if he wanted to get together for a movie on Friday. He brought some beer and we watched Casablanca. Something about the love stories they made back then is just so much better than the crap they churn out now. It was another nice time.
BREAK! While Hermes was over hanging out, I received a text from Lindbergh. He told me that the fb would be saying that he's in a relationship and he wanted to tell me before I saw it or heard it from someone else. I was surprised, annoyed, and shocked all at once. I first made an awkward reply; later on I got mad. I told him that I'm glad he's moving on so quickly and is happy. Then I told him that I'm still having health problems, and dealing with them alone, because he couldn't be there. That I had spent the last few months trying to be able to look him in the eye and trying to feel normal, and fuck you very much for trying to shove your shiny new relationship in my face. BACK ON!
Hermes called me after he got home, and told me that he'd like to see me again. I agreed. Then he asked if it would be out of line to hope for something possibly more than friends. I said it would not. We got together for coffee the next day, and sat talking for a couple of hours.
Yesterday, I asked when we're getting together again. He asked if I'd like to go to a fancy dinner, because he wants to take me out. That was a nice thing to hear.
I'm trying to be cautious; there are so many tricky pieces to this one. I'm not really sure how to handle it all, and I've never been overly excited about having to learn someone new.
You know me...I'll take it all in stride. Or, you know, I'll take it hobbling along awkwardly.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Monday, March 17, 2014
Chasing Leprechauns
And everything else.
In the US, we like to have festive excuses to drink. Not that we really need the excuse, but it makes it more fun. So, of course, there was a lot going on over the past few days as the honorary St. Patrick's Day weekend.
On Friday, feeling much better, I decided to meet up with one of my friends at a local brewery. As I was waiting to get a (non-green, how not festive) beer, a couple of Soldier's friends came up to say hi. It was Harry and his brother, and it was really nice to chat. They (thankfully) didn't bring up Soldier at all, and even invited me to join them the next night for a concert at the brewery. I tentatively agreed, but begged Harry to have Ginny come with, and for one of them to message me at the time. I jokingly let them know that I get very nervous about stuff like that, and that I was just asking them to let me know. Oh, I also gave the brother my number. It was innocent--he recently moved back home and is looking for a job. Since that's kind of what I do, I gave him my card, and then later on he said something about getting in touch with me the next night so I added my cell number. Anyway they had kept insisting for me to go to the concert, so I started thinking that I would.
I heard from Ginny Saturday evening, inviting me to a girls movie night. I was a little bummed. I asked if Harry had mentioned going to the brewery and she said he had, but the girls decided to relax. I was more bummed. I tried to push going out, and she said she was fine with me going or relaxing with them. I was weighing my options until she told me that the guys had just left to stop at Soldier's before going drinking.
Well, that made my decision for me. I obviously couldn't go out if Soldier was going to be there. He probably would have been fine with it, but I wouldn't. I haven't seen him in months and I really don't know how I'd feel about it. And my self esteem, especially with all the stress lately, didn't need that beating. Then I started pouting. For one thing, it feels like it's been forever since I've gone out and had fun. But, the fact that he kept me from going. Then I started to not even want to see the girls. I would have to get ready, just to sit around and do exactly what I was already doing. I hadn't taken my narcolepsy meds, so I also probably would have fallen asleep. And whenever I'm with those girls, they always end up talking about Soldier. I didn't want to hear about him after that. So I sat at home being upset and doing nothing.
The next morning the brother sent me a text. He had given me a band suggestion and asked if I listened to it yet. We went back and forth a bit, and it was fun. We mentioned that we'd talked about older movies and he suggested we get together as friends to watch some older movies sometime. He said that we know most of the same people so we're already friends by association. I made a bad joke about it and he hasn't replied. I felt a little awkward about him being kind of insistent with the friends part, and it's pretty apparent that I'm good at spreading the awkwardness around. I can't decide if I should try to strike the conversation back up. It seems kind of desperate, but I'm not trying to make a move on him. It would just be really nice to have someone to hang out with. Plus, the guys don't really talk about Soldier, and that's refreshing. I'll probably just keep wondering about it for a while. Oh well.
In other news, remember how I was cleared to be normal again on Thursday? Well, for no apparent reason, my right knee started swelling again on Sunday. So, back to the surgeon tomorrow. He's going to think I have a thing for him. (I don't.) I can't figure out what the deal is...it seems to me that there has to be something else going on. I'm beginning to think my leg needs an exorcist.
In the US, we like to have festive excuses to drink. Not that we really need the excuse, but it makes it more fun. So, of course, there was a lot going on over the past few days as the honorary St. Patrick's Day weekend.
On Friday, feeling much better, I decided to meet up with one of my friends at a local brewery. As I was waiting to get a (non-green, how not festive) beer, a couple of Soldier's friends came up to say hi. It was Harry and his brother, and it was really nice to chat. They (thankfully) didn't bring up Soldier at all, and even invited me to join them the next night for a concert at the brewery. I tentatively agreed, but begged Harry to have Ginny come with, and for one of them to message me at the time. I jokingly let them know that I get very nervous about stuff like that, and that I was just asking them to let me know. Oh, I also gave the brother my number. It was innocent--he recently moved back home and is looking for a job. Since that's kind of what I do, I gave him my card, and then later on he said something about getting in touch with me the next night so I added my cell number. Anyway they had kept insisting for me to go to the concert, so I started thinking that I would.
I heard from Ginny Saturday evening, inviting me to a girls movie night. I was a little bummed. I asked if Harry had mentioned going to the brewery and she said he had, but the girls decided to relax. I was more bummed. I tried to push going out, and she said she was fine with me going or relaxing with them. I was weighing my options until she told me that the guys had just left to stop at Soldier's before going drinking.
Well, that made my decision for me. I obviously couldn't go out if Soldier was going to be there. He probably would have been fine with it, but I wouldn't. I haven't seen him in months and I really don't know how I'd feel about it. And my self esteem, especially with all the stress lately, didn't need that beating. Then I started pouting. For one thing, it feels like it's been forever since I've gone out and had fun. But, the fact that he kept me from going. Then I started to not even want to see the girls. I would have to get ready, just to sit around and do exactly what I was already doing. I hadn't taken my narcolepsy meds, so I also probably would have fallen asleep. And whenever I'm with those girls, they always end up talking about Soldier. I didn't want to hear about him after that. So I sat at home being upset and doing nothing.
The next morning the brother sent me a text. He had given me a band suggestion and asked if I listened to it yet. We went back and forth a bit, and it was fun. We mentioned that we'd talked about older movies and he suggested we get together as friends to watch some older movies sometime. He said that we know most of the same people so we're already friends by association. I made a bad joke about it and he hasn't replied. I felt a little awkward about him being kind of insistent with the friends part, and it's pretty apparent that I'm good at spreading the awkwardness around. I can't decide if I should try to strike the conversation back up. It seems kind of desperate, but I'm not trying to make a move on him. It would just be really nice to have someone to hang out with. Plus, the guys don't really talk about Soldier, and that's refreshing. I'll probably just keep wondering about it for a while. Oh well.
In other news, remember how I was cleared to be normal again on Thursday? Well, for no apparent reason, my right knee started swelling again on Sunday. So, back to the surgeon tomorrow. He's going to think I have a thing for him. (I don't.) I can't figure out what the deal is...it seems to me that there has to be something else going on. I'm beginning to think my leg needs an exorcist.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Post Op
Healing under the influence of impatience
I saw the surgeon for a followup yesterday, after a very up and down week. I was SUPER excited to get back to work on Monday. For real, I was actually excited. Then...Tuesday happened. My legs hurt, I was exhausted, and I felt like I was backsliding from the progress I'd made. The legs got a little better through the week, but I was more and more tired each day.
It was worse because, as tired as I was, I couldn't sleep. My knees were throbbing and it's uncomfortable to try and sleep with them propped up and, for whatever reason, my mind stayed awake. It was infuriating and obnoxious and ridiculous. I eventually (somehow) figured it out, but it was a long week. I'm not exactly sure how it happened but I made it to the end with all my body parts intact.
Yesterday I got a Facebook message from Cowboy. Remember him? Last I knew, months and months ago, he was all gung-ho for me to come visit him, and then there was radio silence. I'd seen that he was planning on coming into town soon, so I can't really decide if his message was surprising or not. He started with small talk...asking about the surgery and how I've been. I was very skeptical, just waiting for my chance, and then he told me his stepparent is passing away.
Ouch. Cheap shot. I can't be mad and snooty when you throw that at me! And he knew it. I'm very sorry for the situation, but there's no need to bring me into it and cause me the misery that's been avoided for quite a while.
If they decide they should go away, why don't they just go away?! They always want to come back, and it's hard. They try to justify it by saying they still care. But NO. You don't get to come back with that shit!
And what am I supposed to do when he throws that traumatic information in? He knows I can't ignore someone who needs a shoulder. I of course changed my attitude and gave my sympathy. We chatted a bit and caught up, and then came the inevitable suggestion: that we should get together while he's here. I was (and still am) very weary about it, and I tried to get that through without actually saying no. I suggested that he might just want to spend family, but he assured me that he'll want to see others too. I still tried to be a little aloof; I ended up just telling him to let me know when the time comes how he feels. Part of me is expecting/hoping that he just won't get in touch with me. I mean, what good will it do to go through the whole thing again? It'll just frustrate me.
I'm getting too old to go through all this crap.
I saw the surgeon for a followup yesterday, after a very up and down week. I was SUPER excited to get back to work on Monday. For real, I was actually excited. Then...Tuesday happened. My legs hurt, I was exhausted, and I felt like I was backsliding from the progress I'd made. The legs got a little better through the week, but I was more and more tired each day.
It was worse because, as tired as I was, I couldn't sleep. My knees were throbbing and it's uncomfortable to try and sleep with them propped up and, for whatever reason, my mind stayed awake. It was infuriating and obnoxious and ridiculous. I eventually (somehow) figured it out, but it was a long week. I'm not exactly sure how it happened but I made it to the end with all my body parts intact.
Yesterday I got a Facebook message from Cowboy. Remember him? Last I knew, months and months ago, he was all gung-ho for me to come visit him, and then there was radio silence. I'd seen that he was planning on coming into town soon, so I can't really decide if his message was surprising or not. He started with small talk...asking about the surgery and how I've been. I was very skeptical, just waiting for my chance, and then he told me his stepparent is passing away.
Ouch. Cheap shot. I can't be mad and snooty when you throw that at me! And he knew it. I'm very sorry for the situation, but there's no need to bring me into it and cause me the misery that's been avoided for quite a while.
If they decide they should go away, why don't they just go away?! They always want to come back, and it's hard. They try to justify it by saying they still care. But NO. You don't get to come back with that shit!
And what am I supposed to do when he throws that traumatic information in? He knows I can't ignore someone who needs a shoulder. I of course changed my attitude and gave my sympathy. We chatted a bit and caught up, and then came the inevitable suggestion: that we should get together while he's here. I was (and still am) very weary about it, and I tried to get that through without actually saying no. I suggested that he might just want to spend family, but he assured me that he'll want to see others too. I still tried to be a little aloof; I ended up just telling him to let me know when the time comes how he feels. Part of me is expecting/hoping that he just won't get in touch with me. I mean, what good will it do to go through the whole thing again? It'll just frustrate me.
I'm getting too old to go through all this crap.
Friday, March 7, 2014
A Four Inch Slice
Happy to be cut into.
I had my second appointment with the surgeon on Thursday. Well, except I didn't.
Monday afternoon/evening, my foot started to get really cold, numb, and tingly. I tried massaging my foot to get some heat into it and ended up having to heat up a rice pack. My foot started to warm up a bit, but the cold had crept up my ankle and into my calf and it was starting to freak me out. I kept checking the pulse in my foot and it was fine, but it was a different type of cold than I'm used to.
It was weird trying to figure out what to look for, mostly because I have weird health stuff in general. I have Raynaud's syndrome, which means my circulation is all crazy. After my biopsy, the nurses were telling me what to look out for with my foot, and it kept making me laugh. They said to worry if it's cold...well I'm always cold. There was also a check for the how quickly the blood comes back to the capillaries if you press on them...pretty often during the winter my capillaries just close up and I lose circulation. So, it kind of came down to checking the pulse, and they marked an X on my foot so I'd know where to look.
Anyway my pulse was there, and eventually the feeling and warmth came back. I decided to call the next day (Tuesday) to let them know what was going on. Since the surgeon is awesome, he got me in that day. He decided my foot was okay (which I knew) and started looking at the pictures from the ultrasound. I mentioned that I'm not able to do anything, and he asked what I meant. Then I said how I wasn't really able to walk and he asked me to elaborate on that. So I showed him how I couldn't straighten or flex my leg quite right.
When I'm uncomfortable or nervous, I make jokes. Also I don't like to be a problem patient, so I try not to be too bothersome. But I decided that I needed to stop downplaying what was going on. So I showed him what was going on and he started to measure the hematoma from the pictures. He decided it was pretty big and was sitting on top of the muscle, then started talking about what we needed to do to get it out of there.
I thought it sounded fantastic. I asked when we could do it, and he said the next day (Wednesday). I was excited. All night, and the next day. I was excited when I got to the surgery center. I was less excited when I went back to the room. I was even less excited when they put in the IV. After that, the doctor came in and explained what was going to happen, then the anesthesiologist came to talk to me about the drugs.
It went pretty quickly after that. They took me into the OR, started the drugs, and I woke up with my leg all bandaged up.
It went really well...the surgeon got rid of the hematoma and I have about a 4 inch incision. My leg's still all wrapped up, I've been off work for the past few days, and I'm trying to get back to walking normally. On a positive note, I finally got to take a shower today. I was pretty rank.
But, of course, this advancement on the situation has made me more lonely. Of course. I mean, kind of...it's made me see how many amazing people and support I have in my life. But at the same time it would be so nice to have someone to curl up next to. Before the surgery, I cried just about every day. I was so frustrated with the whole thing.
Oh but, yay for me, the creepy weirdo guy from church sent me another email. It was something about 10 reasons to let the genie out of the bottle or some weird shit. Crazy ass.
Soldier recently commented on one of my status updates on the Facebook. I'd like to be able to read something into that, but I'm trying really hard not to read anything into that.
So, in trying not to worry too much about the "love life" and trying to keep out the creepers, I'm working on another trip to Paris. This time without the extra lumpy friend afterwards.
I had my second appointment with the surgeon on Thursday. Well, except I didn't.
Monday afternoon/evening, my foot started to get really cold, numb, and tingly. I tried massaging my foot to get some heat into it and ended up having to heat up a rice pack. My foot started to warm up a bit, but the cold had crept up my ankle and into my calf and it was starting to freak me out. I kept checking the pulse in my foot and it was fine, but it was a different type of cold than I'm used to.
It was weird trying to figure out what to look for, mostly because I have weird health stuff in general. I have Raynaud's syndrome, which means my circulation is all crazy. After my biopsy, the nurses were telling me what to look out for with my foot, and it kept making me laugh. They said to worry if it's cold...well I'm always cold. There was also a check for the how quickly the blood comes back to the capillaries if you press on them...pretty often during the winter my capillaries just close up and I lose circulation. So, it kind of came down to checking the pulse, and they marked an X on my foot so I'd know where to look.
Anyway my pulse was there, and eventually the feeling and warmth came back. I decided to call the next day (Tuesday) to let them know what was going on. Since the surgeon is awesome, he got me in that day. He decided my foot was okay (which I knew) and started looking at the pictures from the ultrasound. I mentioned that I'm not able to do anything, and he asked what I meant. Then I said how I wasn't really able to walk and he asked me to elaborate on that. So I showed him how I couldn't straighten or flex my leg quite right.
When I'm uncomfortable or nervous, I make jokes. Also I don't like to be a problem patient, so I try not to be too bothersome. But I decided that I needed to stop downplaying what was going on. So I showed him what was going on and he started to measure the hematoma from the pictures. He decided it was pretty big and was sitting on top of the muscle, then started talking about what we needed to do to get it out of there.
I thought it sounded fantastic. I asked when we could do it, and he said the next day (Wednesday). I was excited. All night, and the next day. I was excited when I got to the surgery center. I was less excited when I went back to the room. I was even less excited when they put in the IV. After that, the doctor came in and explained what was going to happen, then the anesthesiologist came to talk to me about the drugs.
It went pretty quickly after that. They took me into the OR, started the drugs, and I woke up with my leg all bandaged up.
It went really well...the surgeon got rid of the hematoma and I have about a 4 inch incision. My leg's still all wrapped up, I've been off work for the past few days, and I'm trying to get back to walking normally. On a positive note, I finally got to take a shower today. I was pretty rank.
But, of course, this advancement on the situation has made me more lonely. Of course. I mean, kind of...it's made me see how many amazing people and support I have in my life. But at the same time it would be so nice to have someone to curl up next to. Before the surgery, I cried just about every day. I was so frustrated with the whole thing.
Oh but, yay for me, the creepy weirdo guy from church sent me another email. It was something about 10 reasons to let the genie out of the bottle or some weird shit. Crazy ass.
Soldier recently commented on one of my status updates on the Facebook. I'd like to be able to read something into that, but I'm trying really hard not to read anything into that.
So, in trying not to worry too much about the "love life" and trying to keep out the creepers, I'm working on another trip to Paris. This time without the extra lumpy friend afterwards.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Sanctuary
The House of God isn't always safe
It seems everything's been about religion for me lately. I promise you, though, this story is seriously crazy.
I think LinkedIn is dumb, so I pretty much accept everyone who sends me a request to link up or whatever it is. After I'd accepted one gentleman's request, I got a message from him. He said something about not being entirely sure I'm the same girl he sees at church every week, but thinking that I was, and asked for my email address. I wasn't entirely sure what was wrong with discussing things with me on LinkedIn, but I complied and gave him my email.
The next day or so I received an email from him. It seemed a little weird to me that the email was just chatty; he was talking about all the snow or something. Having looked at our church directory thing, I found out that he's married and has a family, so I didn't feel quite right about it. I didn't reply.
A couple of days later, he sent another email. He started by saying I was probably wondering why he contacted me (uh-yeah). He said there were several reasons (sketchy) but that he wanted to apologize if I was uncomfortable with him staring at me. Then he referenced the previous week's Gospel...the one about plucking your eye out if it causes you to sin...and said that maybe I could "ugly [my]self up a little." Let's look at all the reasons this is wrong:
It seems everything's been about religion for me lately. I promise you, though, this story is seriously crazy.
I think LinkedIn is dumb, so I pretty much accept everyone who sends me a request to link up or whatever it is. After I'd accepted one gentleman's request, I got a message from him. He said something about not being entirely sure I'm the same girl he sees at church every week, but thinking that I was, and asked for my email address. I wasn't entirely sure what was wrong with discussing things with me on LinkedIn, but I complied and gave him my email.
The next day or so I received an email from him. It seemed a little weird to me that the email was just chatty; he was talking about all the snow or something. Having looked at our church directory thing, I found out that he's married and has a family, so I didn't feel quite right about it. I didn't reply.
A couple of days later, he sent another email. He started by saying I was probably wondering why he contacted me (uh-yeah). He said there were several reasons (sketchy) but that he wanted to apologize if I was uncomfortable with him staring at me. Then he referenced the previous week's Gospel...the one about plucking your eye out if it causes you to sin...and said that maybe I could "ugly [my]self up a little." Let's look at all the reasons this is wrong:
- You're married
- You're referencing the Bible as you're making yourself a total sleezeball
- You have a family
- I do not know you nor have I seen you looking at me (conceited much?)
- You're fucking married
Let me explain reason four a bit...it has to do with the setup of the church. I sing in the choir, which is right next to the altar. So even when I'm up on the altar singing by myself, I'm just looking out at a group of faces. The only ones I really notice are people I actually know. Even after looking at the directory, I didn't recognize this guy. So, no, I didn't notice his uber-creepy stares.
He ended the email saying that he only has good intentions, that he's an advocate for me "behind the scenes." I don't even know what that means but I don't like it. After thinking for a while, I responded with what I thought was a courteous way of saying fuck off: I said I'd imagined he contacted me for business or religious reasons, and that I didn't notice any staring because I try to focus on God and the Mass. I thanked him for the prayers, because I'm willing to take as many as I can get right now. (But, on a side note, that's just as messed up. How can you talk about praying for someone while you're sending these creepy ass emails?)
I guess he didn't hear the "piss off" in that. He responded that he hopes I understand why he doesn't feel closure. Umm...excuse me? Closure?! From what?! Somehow, it got better. He said I seemed distraught at Mass the previous weekend. ( I was distraught, my legs are trying to kill me and it freaking hurt to stand!) Then...we had this..."Can you honestly say you had no thoughts of me during mass and that I was not the cause of this?"
What...what the fuck. Seriously, just, what is that. Let me say again that I do not know who this guy is! I cannot even comprehend the craziness in his brain. It makes my head hurt to try and figure it out.
He then went on to say that he senses a connection with me and he wanted to acknowledge it.
Uh...yeah...I don't live on The Bachelor. There's no "connection." The way he phrased the whole thing made it sound like this is not the first time he's pulled this bit, which leads me to believe he cheats on his wife regularly. I feel sorry for her, but she obviously fell for it. It's sad.
In other news, Johnathan has been texting me with all the health issues I've had. (Oh, coming up to speed: I got a biopsy on Thursday and they found out it's a cyst that decided it needed a hematoma friend. Apparently it's really rare. I ended up seeing the surgeon that afternoon, and he found a cyst in the other leg too. So basically my legs are just all sorts of messed up. I see him again on Thursday.) It's very sweet that he's sending my positive thoughts, but I let him know that I can't let him come back in again...he keeps doing this back and forth thing and I'm done with it.
I've actually just kind of been throwing off any guy that's interested. I'm just not feeling it right now, and I'm sick of doing the whole dating thing. It seems that the attitude of not caring is a turn on. Maybe I should have caught on to that sooner.
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