I guess what I'm saying is... I thought I would be back to normal by now. Perhaps I sound like I'm whining and sometimes I think thatmaybe this is my "new normal." I'm not 100% yet. I seem to hover between 65% and 80%. But research shows, and by research I mean people who have been through similar things telling me their experiences as well as conversations with doctors, that I should be feeling like I'm back to my former self. Someday.
Financially, it got a teensy bit worse because I had to quit the psychic line. They wanted me to give them more hours than I was physically capable of giving them. So I've taken to doing pet-sitting or house-sitting jobs, as well as ad hoc writing and editing jobs, and of course I'm still giving readings. I'm trying to charge extremely reasonable prices because so many people have paid it forward for me and are still paying it forward. I've had to share my GoFundMe a few times, well, sure, I didn't have to, but most of the podcasts I listen to ask for money, so I figured if they can, so can I, no matter how embarrassing it is or how much I beat myself up for it.
I can't remember if I shared this but there is some question with my insurance company over whether my surgery was medically necessary. I got a nice big bill confirming it wasn't. But I only need to call a few dozen more times before that is settled, I'm sure. I'm not really worried about it, I feel it will get worked out, I just don't have the energy to deal with it. It's on the list.
When we last left off in Part 2, I was about to return to my full-time job. I did so, successfully, but I'm definitely not moving as fast as I used to in any capacity. It doesn't necessarily affect my output, it just takes me longer to do everything. I've already shared about having to give up the psychic line. I'm a bit worried about the clients I talked to frequently. Not that they won't be okay without me, and certainly they'll find others to talk to, but when you are in a state of upset and are used to having a certain confidante, it can be distressing to have that person disappear from your life. They won't be able to find me because I was required to use an alias.
There may be another psychic line out there that is good, honorable, doesn't try to screw people over, and pays well. The one I just left did everything I just listed, except pay well. In the interim, I'm taking it one item at a time and taking work as I can knowing that at some point it will be better. I've also been taking more time to rest when possible, and certainly a lack of rest is the reason why that infection was able to beat me up and steal my lunch money. I spend time with my sister and my nieces when I can, and let me tell you, when those three tiny girls block the door because they love me so much they don't want me to leave - my heart!
Quentin the Cat, who has been with me for over ten years, since he was five weeks old, was not that bothered by my absence and was his usual loving self upon my return. I thought he would have a harder time than Mr. Henderson, who has only been with me for a year and a half. But it was Mr. Henderson who seemed more insecure as a result. I have to chase him down to give him his meds now, and he is clingy, at least more than he used to be. He must have thought he was being abandoned again. I imagine their conversations while I was gone went something like this:
Mr Henderson: Aren't you scared she's not coming back?
Quentin: Nah, she'll be back, bro.
Mr. Henderson: But where is she?
Quentin: Who cares, we're getting fed, dude!
Mr. Henderson: But aren't you worried about her?
Quentin: She's fine, bro. Wanna play?
Aside from the energy levels, I'm still feeling pain and I lose my voice frequently. I went to the ENT that performed the surgery on me (and saved my life) for a few post -surgery visits. He and the medical team were trying to figure out where the infection started, so that it could be prevented from happening again. I went a few times to dental specialists for X-Rays and check-ups, and they determined it did not start in my teeth. The assumption is that it started in my tonsils, and nothing needs to be done at this time other than to hope that never happens again.
Last week, I finally saw my own doctor for the first time in the two months since this happened. "You're lucky you didn't die!" she exclaimed. "Are you.... okay?" She meant mentally, because she knows about my PTSD challenges. "Meh," I said outloud, for the first time ever. Then she said she knew I would be someday because I always was, and after everything I've been through I always bounce back. She's been my doctor for 25 years so she can say that with genuine authority. She promised me that if the thryoid ultrasound I needed or the mammogram she'd been asking me to get for three years came back with concerning results, she would call me immediately.
It was actually her office that told me I had an issue with my thyroid at all. I didn't talk about this in the first two parts of this story or anywhere else on this blog (I don't think I did... did I?) because I honestly wasn't that worried about it. The second day I was in intensive care, I received a call from her office. It was one of her nurses asking me when I would like to schedule the ultrasound for the mass on my neck.
"Wait, what?" I asked in my hoarse, pained whisper. "I think there's a mistake, I'm in the hospital right now."
The nurse went on to say that the CAT scan that Paoli Hospital did revealed a mass on my thyroid. I hung up on her and demanded to see one of the doctors on my care team. He said that this was not a big concern, that the mass was likely harmless nodules, and they didn't tell me because it was more important to treat the infection than to have me worrying about that.
Oh...kay?
I called back the nurse I hung up on to apologize and found she was crying from having been the one to tell me about the mass, and so as I sat up in bed all drugged up and in pain and scared about everything, I found myself comforting her. I fell asleep and awoke to a voicemail from my doctor telling me not to worry, it's probably perfectly normal, and the ultrasound should show that it's nothing to fear, so try not to give that too much energy and just focus on getting through this crazy infection.
I then proceeded to put it off for two months. Mostly because I just couldn't handle any more than I was handling. I suppose I could have tried to get the ultrasound in the hospital but I was hardly in a fit state for that, if there is a fit state for that. And also I kinda forgot about it.
Two days before my doctor's appointment, I went on to the patient website to confirm my doctor's appointment, and it was then then I remembered I had to get the thyroid thing done.
I had been putting off the mammogram too, but I put that off on purpose.
I know, I know.
Anyway, I was/am scared about the mammogram, but was not scared about the thyroid test. I figured it would be fine. Until I was laying there and I saw the tech's face and the way she was looking at the left side of my neck on the screen.
Then I got scared.
The next day, I reloaded my doctor patient message center constantly to see if there was a message saying there was nothing to worry about, because that's what my doctor does if there's nothing to worry about, she sends me a message.
I was at Sprint arguing with the manager about how much their customer service sucks, when my phone rang. I didn't answer because I was too busy defending myself against rudeness everywhere (probably by being rude myself but let's not focus on that now) to answer the phone.
At the suggestion of the friendly tech, I went to Best Buy to purchase what I needed to fix the phone problem, because it's truly the perfect time to have to spend money to fix a phone problem. And that's when I saw the missed call from my doctor.
Aw, crap.
Maybe she just wants to tell me it's all okay instead of sending a message saying that because she knows I'm worried.
I opened the website message center and there was a message saying that because blah blah was blah and blah blah was blah blah blah plus there was a new blah blah, they were recommending a biopsy. She wanted to reassure me not to worry at all, because even if it was something, it was treatable, so don't worry, and let her know if I wanted her to schedule it.
She left me another message later, again saying not to worry. I called the hospital today and they can't schedule the biopsy until a radiologist has confirmed the results of the other radiologist (that's good I guess?) but that I should be able to get in as soon as Friday.
Now, I'm off to the mammogram.
Anybody want to go with me?
I wonder if they allow cats.
PS - I made a Donation page for those that want to explore getting a reading, need writing help, or want to contribute to my GoFundMe or contribute via Paypal. Click here.
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