Too much

tI started the last PTSD story (unless something new comes up) today.  This time I showed "slight" emotion twice.  So I'm supposed to put feeling words with each story and then record.  The problem is that I get overwhelmed by trying to think about that and am generally feeling anxious (please forgive typos; my A key fell off and the keyboard has to be replaced.)  I know these words; I do not know what they mean or really feel like.  Which is hardest part of all.  Being able to say what happened with my grandfather was a huge step, my temper tantrum was even bigger and I may have to do that again.  Not that I was good at verbally doing that either.  Dr. Mind made sure I knew I could yell and nobody was going to be able to hear because nobody else was on the floor.

What I lost track of until today I said something about it being August.  Monday will be a year since I saw a patient.  And while Dr. Mind encourages not remembering anniversies which I tend to do a lot of because it's how my mind works, this one is particularly hard because I never dreamed that that would be my last day ever.  And with a hysterectomy coming feeling sad about this day easily turns to fear that I will have a similar experience with surgery.  I know that every effort will be made to avoid that, and the Dr. Brain and Dr. Sweetheart are working hard to find things that are safe for me and communicate that last year I was a different person after surgery and that never changed.  It's certainly better now but I'm not who or what I was a year ago.  I can do more per day but that means 15 minutes of a task most days.

I just know that I had to have the procedure last year and this is not optional now.  If you are squeamish avert your eyes, but the proof that this must happen includes cramps every single day and during my period they are strong enough to dilate my cervix to let the enormous clots out.  I thought I'd seen ugly clots but last week I passed one as big as my hand and many way too big ones.  Trying to deal with that led to blood actually splashing onto my foot.  Disgusting but I need to remember this when I'm post-op and bored and annoyed that I chose this.

Nonetheless, knowing I haven't been a therapist in a year and feeling so sad it had to be this way kills me.  I know that Drs.  Brain and Mind both indicated this was a matter of time from happening even if I didn't want to admit it.  Somehow I thought I'd know when it was my last day.  I don't know why that would be better aside from not getting to say good-byes, but I wasn't really able to do that anyway.  A year ago my biggest concern was how to help someone waiting for a lung transplant function as normally as possible.  I never got to solve that problem.  Today aside from therapy and a leaking tire my big thing has been untangling a bunch of yarn.  Life has changed, way too much.

Tomorrow I get to see my niece.  It's likely to be the last time for a while because she is over the lifting limit I"ll have after surgery.  I intend to enjoy every second.  She truly is the best kid.  She came up to my mom's today and was thrilled to see her "grandma toys".

Anyway, I want to iron some fabric and maybe take a shower if my tension headache allows.  I also have to get that medication out of my purse.  I hate using it right now because I am about out and don't want to pay for more.

That's a whole other story, but I'm really struggling right now with my reduced income.  A year ago getting things ready for surgery was easy because I could afford what I needed.  This time it's all about squeezing water out of a stone.  I used to think "keyboard broke, big deal" because it didn't see very expensive to fix it.  Same for motel rooms for pre-op and probably the night before surgery.

I'm just totally overwhelmed.  My cat can tell; she is cuddling and being patient with my moving my arms.  I'm so proud of her; she's been off her anxiety med for a week and is doing great.  She'll go back on when I have surgery but Go Annna.

Anyway, good night.

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