I wasn’t on tumblr much over the weekend, as some of you who follow my girlfriend’s blog or are friends with me on Facebook probably already know, I had a severe diverticulitis flare up late Friday night/early Saturday morning.
It was the worst pain I’ve ever experienced in my life, even more so than the last flare up, where my intestines actually ripped inside, I don’t know why but this one hurt like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I was nearly blacking out from pain before we left for the hospital and I’m pretty sure I did black out in the car a few times on the way to the hospital. A double dose of morphine didn’t even stop the pain.
I’ve been sleeping and taking it easy since I got home Saturday morning, the hospital offered to admit me, but I already owe tens of thousands in medical bills and I can do bed rest at home.
I’m back at work today, after four days on pain medication and my stomach isn’t hurting nearly as bad as it was, it’s now just a dull ache, but this has put a lot of strain on my body. I’m getting worn out just walking from my cubicle to other parts of the office, but I’ve used up all my sick days and as long as I take it easy, I should be okay.
I’m hoping to feel like myself again by this weekend.
It really sucks, I was really, REALLY looking forward to some R and R this past weekend, as was Brittany. Life has been very stressful/busy lately and we really needed some time to rest up and unwind, but life had other plans.
I’ve been back on metoprolol for about three weeks now.
It’s a beta-blocker that was originally developed to control high blood pressure. The mechanism it uses is to dampen adrenal response.
My “fight or flight” response is all messed up, “normally” even being slightly agitated will make my body respond like I’m in a life or death situation. My body will release tons of adrenaline and other stress hormones driving up my blood pressure, my heart rate and put me in “heightened alert” mode just like my life was in danger.
This in turn starts a vicious cycle where due to this physiological response, the hormones released will also affect my emotional state ending up making me feel agitated or angry well beyond what the original situation warranted.
I had learned how to keep myself aware of my emotional state and would try to stay calm even when this happened, but the hormones and physical response from my body was still doing damage, and being under constant stress was depleting my serotonin levels (which is a crucial neurotransmitter in mood regulation) which resulted in depression.
So, metoprolol puts the breaks on this adrenal response and keeps my body from going into “survival mode” every time I get slightly agitated.
I’ve noticed a marked difference in may mood and behavior as of late. For one, I don’t get stressed nearly as easily as I did before.
For example, road rage. When I wasn’t on my medicine, getting stuck in a traffic jam would have caused me to go into Hulk-out mode. Sweating, red face, tension, veins popping out of my forehead, but this morning traffic was ridiculous and I only got mildly agitated.
This is turn helps keep me from having depressive spells. I’m just happy as hell to be “evened out” again.
I agree with you when you say that they shouldn’t be performed unless medically necessary, but the increased rates of c-sections aren’t from so-called greedy hospitals. A huge proportion voluntary procedures are requests from the mother themselves.
I understand this and agree with all the facts presented.
However, some correlations are not being understood. Yes, for-profit hospitals have a higher rate of C-sections than not-for-profit ones. But consider this: generally speaking, for-profit hospitals are utilised more by a wealthier demographic. These patients have either adequate healthcare or the financial means to pay for, rather than simply desire, this procedure. By virtue of this cost barrier being overcome, there are higher rates in such hospitals, which (as a result) receive a larger income.
This isn’t to say that hospitals aren’t run like businesses. They are. The depersonalisation of doctor-patient interactions is something I have a huge issue with, especially as I will be working in the healthcare system in the near future.
I’m merely pointing out that there’s an element being missed in the argument here, and that is the woman’s choice.
(I’ve also gone through a few of your recent posts on this—some of those stories are appalling, but that does not, by any means, represent the majority of C-sections. This doesn’t excuse that it happened, but it shouldn’t be used as a representative example. Malpractice can happen with almost any procedure to varying degrees.)
I am completely against necessary medical care being for profit.
For example, 12 years ago when my third son was delivered, my ex was screaming at the doctors to give her a c-section, “JUST CUT THIS DAMN BABY OUT OF ME!!!”
Which is perfectly understandable, but, the doctors told her it was not a medical necessity. They went over all the complications that could be involved and said that if she was still willing to risk it they would comply.
At the time I had fabulous medical insurance and everything was covered - $200 for the hospital stay and delivery via vaginal or c-section.
I have a feeling that what’s happening now is the doctors aren’t taking so much care as to explain the complications possible with a medically unnecessary major surgery because of finical motivations.
OKAY SO. I’m back from my very first Planned Parenthood journey, and I have to say, I’m a great mixture of emotions. Ranging from overjoyed and happy and thrilled and grateful to angry and bitter and frightened and downright pissed—very varying degrees of emotions, but don’t worry, I’ll unpack them.
First of all, I want to kick myself for not going to Planned Parenthood sooner. I had NO idea the help I would find, and I’m still just sitting here with an overwhelming sense of gratitude because this place was literally one of the best things to happen in my life.
I’m getting the ParaGard, because it’s the only IUD they offer anywhere nearby (that I can afford!) but it wont be in for a few months, so I was immediately distraught by the fact that I will STILL have to continue buying my monthly Nuva Ring for $70 because my health insurance apparently hates anything to do with my vagina. (Seriously, OBGYN costs skyrocketed, along with my birth control, when we switched insurances. Wtf?) BUT, instead of being forced to pay this continual fee until I could get the IUD, I was instead asked, “Do you want three Nuva Rings?”
I was at a loss for words.
“What, like, free?” I stuttered out. The receptionist nodded, and I nodded back numbly. I mean sure, there’s plenty of men and women who have benefited from this wonderful organization before, so what I’m saying is probably nothing new, but I was just so shocked. That’s $70 a MONTH I am saving! That’s gas! That’s saving back for the apartment! That’s food!
I wasn’t charged a DIME for my visit—since they base it on income, and I make $200/wk, they adjusted everything. I had a breast exam, which I’ve never had before, and was taught how to perform one on myself. They did a minor pelvic exam since I’d been complaining about some pain, and they gave me a boatload of condoms (I don’t use them myself, but I’d like to keep a stock to give out to teens who might not be in the position to buy them themselves) PLUS they hooked me up with Ella—a Plan B pill, just in case, which would save me $50 in case of an emergency.
By the end of my visit, I was in tears, and the nurses were very kind. One even gave me a hug. I was crying because I was overwhelmed with how happy I was, because what they had done for me meant the WORLD to me. Expecting to pay WAAAAAAAAAAAAY more than I did, and getting $210 in free birth control, I donated $20, and would like to go back and donate more when I can.
I’m pissed though, that people want to take away these resources from men and women. I am SO pissed, and horrified. Because of my pain, they insisted on doing other tests (STDs—I’m not at risk, but they had to because of the pain and exam, so whatevs) and those still didn’t cost me anything—so for people who DO need the tests, they’re free… and PEOPLE WANT TO TAKE THIS AWAY. The clinic I went to didn’t even perform abortions, simply referrals, and I only saw one pamphlet on the wall about abortion, compared to the dozens of others about pregnancies and how to have a healthy pregnancy, etc. I mean, not that I doubted what I’ve heard in the past, but it was all a reaffirming of the facts I’d been given, now put into real-life experiences.
I got a free pelvic exam, a free breast exam—I got my birth control, and I got precautionary “just in case” methods. Planned Parenthood is a beautiful place, and I want to punch absolutely everyone who hates them for the 3% of what they do in the face!
DON’T GET ME WRONG, I totally understand people who can’t get access to these things—transportation, distance, location, etc. It’s just, for those it helps, and for those who are able to benefit from it, holy FUCK is it awesome.
But if you DO go and you have an AWESOME experience like me, I do request that you make some kind of donation. These places deserve it. And just, goddd.
I’m such a jumbled mix of emotions I can’t sit still, and I’m still crying over how happy I am. OH. And best of all? I probably wont have to pay a dime for my ParaGard when the time comes!
THANK YOU SO MUCH PLANNED PARENTHOOD.
Incoming personal narrative. (I tried to do a “read more” on this, but it refuses to work, even if I edit the HTML, which used to work… GGGGRRRRR)
That doesn’t mean that I’m not my normal “goofy” self. I’ve mentioned before that if you knew me in real life, you’d probably be surprised at just how absurd I am most of the time. If you follow Brittany’s blog you’ve probably seen some of the things I say and do that are outright ridiculous.
What’s changed is I have not tolerated any bullshit from anyone. It was a slow progression but it’s really started to show it’s self this week. People around me have started to notice it. I’ve gotten almost aggressively assertive.
I’ve talked a lot on here about what I went through with exes, the kind of shit that happened to me growing up. About how when I was young I was angry, passionate and assertive.
I was having a conversation with my mother earlier this week about how I wasn’t around much when I was married, about how the last three or four years I was married, she never saw me or her grandchildren.
I can clearly see why now. My ex-wife wore me down. It took damn near ten years, but she did it.
The first nine years or so of our marriage, I would argue with her. I would make sure we visited my family on holidays, birthdays, and sometimes “just because”.
It got to the point where the arguments started getting worse and worse. She was such a very stubborn person and would get her mind fixated on how something “should be” and once she hit that point, would not change her mind.
She didn’t want us visiting my family. She didn’t want me talking to my friends, she didn’t want me to do much at all outside of working, keeping up the yard or being at home.
She would keep me up all night arguing, ALL FUCKING NIGHT, and would not stop if I didn’t bend to what she wanted. If that didn’t work, she’d call me at work to argue, she’d get up in my face and yell and scream, she’d physically block me from leaving a room if I tried to disengage. She was on my ass 24/7 like this about everything.
After years of this shit, I finally got tired of fighting, of arguing, of being pushed to the point where I was so angry that I wanted to leave the room, the house, only to be physically blocked, and she knew I wouldn’t lay a finger on her.
I got worn down. I can’t put 100% of the blame on her. I let her wear me down. I should have left years before I did, but I felt guilty for what it might do to the children.
The funny part of all this is, once she had completely broke me was when I came to the realization that the marriage wasn’t going to work any more, when I tol her this, the arguments became physical.
It’s taken a long time and another failed long term relationship with another extremely stubborn person who had remarkably similar personality to my ex-wife to realize what I had become.
I was on the road to this by the time my last ex and I broke up, but in the last seven or eight months, I’ve slowly started becoming that passionate person I was when I was younger.
I’ve been told by friends and family that I have this “spark” in my eyes that they haven’t seen since I was younger, where I used to have cold, dead eyes.
The time I took “alone” between when my last ex and I broke up and meeting Brittany helped a lot as far as getting to know myself again.
I learned to meditate, I’ve learned to be mindful of my thoughts and motivations, to not just fly by the seat of my emotional pants.
Being in a relationship with someone who simply lets me be myself, and loves me for it has helped a lot as well.
It’s been a long four years since I announced to my ex-wife that I was leaving her, and I’m finally starting to feel like I’ve gotten myself back. I’ve re-gained what I lost from being worn down so badly.
I’m confident, assertive, and no-nonsense. I knew I was getting closer to being who I was before my marriage for several months now. It just seems like this week it’s been confirmed to me completely, and I couldn’t be happier.
- Him: I really wonder about mom sometimes.
- Me: Why?
- Him: She likes Nickleback, she seriously LIKES them.
Sorrry all you pro-choicers. but it’s my choice, and i love babies.
Congratulations. Being pro-choice means you get to make whatever choice you want. I’m pro-choice and I’m a mother. They’re not mutually exclusive.
“Sorry all you pro-choicers” you have every right to do whatever you want with your body, pro-choicers are not the fucking problem. Being pro-choice means you believe the zany idea what others shouldn’t dictate what you can and can not do with your body. Also, why are you apologizing? Pro-choice isn’t an ambiguous term, so why have you made it seem like being pro-choice means you are anti-child? (a fetus is a fetus and a baby is a baby, you should probably get that straight).
Good for you, don’t have one.
Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo stick, you people act like everyone who is pro-choice cheer people on to get abortions.
LOOK UP THE FUCKING WORD “CHOICE” AND LEARN WHAT IT MEANS.
I’m with someone who doesn’t make me feel like my horrible immune system and constant habit of being sick is some kind of hassle.
Believe me, you’ve done the same for me. I’ve never felt so loved and appreciated before. Ever. Period.
In 2011 a lot of things finally clicked. I feel like I’ve been on this long journey of self discovery after my marriage ended, almost four years ago, then a year later, I was laid off the job that I had worked at for nearly my entire adult life.
Later that same year, I was engaged, then not too long after the engagement was called off, we broke up, then had to live together for almost nine months until my lease was up.
I had been unemployed, then got a job paying MUCH less than I had made before, a job I really didn’t like much, I had gotten custody of two of my sons, and was adjusting to being a full time father again.
This is how 2011 began.
I was lost. Totally lost. I felt a lot like I didn’t have anyone or anything but my sons. I realized I had no sense of identity. I was married and entered the corporate work place very early in life. The time I spent married was a blur. I worked a lot. I missed a great deal of my children as they were growing up, I lost a great deal of myself, having been married to the type of person I was married to. Let’s just say, I went though a great deal of therapy after I left her.
It was at the beginning of 2011 I started to realize that I was completely, totally, lost. I had no idea who I was, or where to go next with my life. Early in 2011 I got a job with an IT contracting firm, they paid much better than the job I was working at the time, which was basically “the only job I could find after being laid off”.
I was finally able to move into my own apartment with my sons and didn’t have to live with my ex-fiancee, as our lease was finally up, and I had started to come into my own, so to say. I developed a bit of a social life, started talking to old friends I hadn’t talked to in a while. I had a fling, I went on dates, I went to a party or two.
I started paying attention to the news again, I started to have opinions on things again, I found myself. Finally, after all those years as a zombie, I found myself again. I learned there were things outside of the day to day working and raising children and running a household to be passionate about.
I started this blog, I started writing thoughts down and telling stories and musing about science and social views, and I started talking to this quirky woman from tumblr that I knew nothing about except through her blog, then it turns out we live in the same city, right up the street from each other, and then we decide to have coffee and we knock each other off our feet.
The wonderful thing about meeting Brittany was that she taught me a lot about myself. She got me in ways other people hadn’t. She seemed to know more about me than I knew about myself. She picked up on mannerisms I had that told her a lot about me. Even if it hadn’t have turned into a romance, I would have had this from her.
But, it did turn into a romance, right when I wasn’t looking for one. Right when I had firmly regained my sense of self identity, and decided being single wasn’t that bad, I got shot right in the ass by cupid’s arrow. I was crazy about her. It’s turns out she was crazy about me right back.
Though 2011 I reconnected a lot with my sons, we spent a lot more time together now that it was just us and them. I’d go out on weekends they were at their mother’s. Sometimes I’d go out on a weeknight, but I spend most of my free time with them. I still do, as a matter of fact, and they don’t seem to mind Brittany being around, the even ask when the next time she’s coming over is.
I’m settled in at my “new” job, it will be a year next month, the pay could be better, but I’m managing to make ends meet, even if I did have a huge finical disaster that plagued me though a good deal of 2011, but it finally got resolved, and I’m getting back to where I’m more comfortably on my feet.
I changed a lot. I found my confidence, I found my swagger. I started practicing mindfulness a lot, learned to meditate. By mid-2011 I was feeling amazing, full of life and had a “fire in my belly” again. Then I met Brittany, and she became my favorite person ever. I’ve never been so ridiculously in love with someone.
My sons and I are closer then ever, and I’m starting to feel much more optimistic about life, about the future, and I have a firm grasp on who I am.
2011 had it’s ups and downs, but I feel the ups definitely out weighed the downs, I’m looking forward to what 2012 has to hold.