Tuesday, August 08, 2006
like my mother never said: if you haven't got anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. hence my recent silence.
lessee...there were two days when the skin over my expander didn't leak, but now it's breaking down again. dh has no idea; he wants to help, but then forgets about it, or ignores housework that I then do; and I'm finding that even if I don't use my arm much, getting tired seems to affect it. I'm terrified that I'll get an infection, or have to have it taken out - no I haven't seen my dr, I don't expect much joy there - and meanwhile the beautiful weather seems sent to remind me that I can't swim or ride. dh said this morning: "why don't you just go for a walk" and I just burst into tears. he has no idea. oh, I've already said that. there is no comparison between walking, which is what I do all the time with A. anyway, and pushing my bike around Kew Boulevarde under the gum trees just after dawn, or swimming 20 laps at sunset in soothingly cool water. and every day this leaking continues is a day further from recovery. going for a trans-type surgery won't fix it either; there's no guarantee those will work either. the only sure way to get my life back is to take it out and have no right breast. and that isn't exactly going to help my mental health either.
I looked up reconstructions on the web and found a discussion board where the women were talking about the considerable pain the expanders cause, which is certainly what I experienced two weeks ago; I wonder if the surgeons really realise what pain means, what it does to someone's life. they seem generally to take a "just get through it" attitude.
meanwhile, one of A's little friends has been diagnosed as epileptic. which could mean anything, really, and of course I'm not going to quiz his mother on the details. she probably doesn't know herself. just that it's not good. he's a lovely sweet kid and I'm desperately sorry for them. that's one thing I should remember: at least A. is OK.
sometimes when I'm with my mother's group friends or visiting their kids in hospital, I have a feeling that behind my real liking for them and concern is an ulterior motive: if I die, A. will need a close peer group and support network all the more. and dh, while he probably won't let harm come to A, and can pay for care, has no idea (yes, I've said that); at lunch the other day he drank his whole juice without thinking of sharing with A, who was next to him. of course I ended up giving A some of mine. it's not about the juice, it's the mindset. he exists in a solo world, where he doesn't automatically stop and consider A - or me - each time he chooses to do something. which is what happened in Hong Kong. I got quite upset this morning, reminding him that just taking one day off work then and taking me to a doctor - I really was too tired and sick too get it together myself, I can see in retrospect - would have avoided all this, the mastectomy, the chemo...
fuck. I just want my life back. I just want to be able to hug my son without risking major surgery (the expander is that fragile). I just want to be able to ride and swim and sleep at night.
lessee...there were two days when the skin over my expander didn't leak, but now it's breaking down again. dh has no idea; he wants to help, but then forgets about it, or ignores housework that I then do; and I'm finding that even if I don't use my arm much, getting tired seems to affect it. I'm terrified that I'll get an infection, or have to have it taken out - no I haven't seen my dr, I don't expect much joy there - and meanwhile the beautiful weather seems sent to remind me that I can't swim or ride. dh said this morning: "why don't you just go for a walk" and I just burst into tears. he has no idea. oh, I've already said that. there is no comparison between walking, which is what I do all the time with A. anyway, and pushing my bike around Kew Boulevarde under the gum trees just after dawn, or swimming 20 laps at sunset in soothingly cool water. and every day this leaking continues is a day further from recovery. going for a trans-type surgery won't fix it either; there's no guarantee those will work either. the only sure way to get my life back is to take it out and have no right breast. and that isn't exactly going to help my mental health either.
I looked up reconstructions on the web and found a discussion board where the women were talking about the considerable pain the expanders cause, which is certainly what I experienced two weeks ago; I wonder if the surgeons really realise what pain means, what it does to someone's life. they seem generally to take a "just get through it" attitude.
meanwhile, one of A's little friends has been diagnosed as epileptic. which could mean anything, really, and of course I'm not going to quiz his mother on the details. she probably doesn't know herself. just that it's not good. he's a lovely sweet kid and I'm desperately sorry for them. that's one thing I should remember: at least A. is OK.
sometimes when I'm with my mother's group friends or visiting their kids in hospital, I have a feeling that behind my real liking for them and concern is an ulterior motive: if I die, A. will need a close peer group and support network all the more. and dh, while he probably won't let harm come to A, and can pay for care, has no idea (yes, I've said that); at lunch the other day he drank his whole juice without thinking of sharing with A, who was next to him. of course I ended up giving A some of mine. it's not about the juice, it's the mindset. he exists in a solo world, where he doesn't automatically stop and consider A - or me - each time he chooses to do something. which is what happened in Hong Kong. I got quite upset this morning, reminding him that just taking one day off work then and taking me to a doctor - I really was too tired and sick too get it together myself, I can see in retrospect - would have avoided all this, the mastectomy, the chemo...
fuck. I just want my life back. I just want to be able to hug my son without risking major surgery (the expander is that fragile). I just want to be able to ride and swim and sleep at night.
Comments:
<< Home
Dear Baby,
If this phase doesn't get better, at least it will, at some point, get over. Ask for more help from your dh. Men have no clue. you can't hold them to the same standards you'd hold yourself to.
If this phase doesn't get better, at least it will, at some point, get over. Ask for more help from your dh. Men have no clue. you can't hold them to the same standards you'd hold yourself to.
# posted by 
: 8:54 PM
: 8:54 PM
Dear Baby,
If this phase doesn't get better, at least it will, at some point, get over. Ask for more help from your dh. Men have no clue. you can't hold them to the same standards you'd hold yourself to.
If this phase doesn't get better, at least it will, at some point, get over. Ask for more help from your dh. Men have no clue. you can't hold them to the same standards you'd hold yourself to.
# posted by : 8:55 PM
: 8:55 PM
Im sorry things are so hard.
You sound like such a beautiful Mother. Its unfair that you have to go through all this pain, fear and sadness. I really hope your DH gets it together and starts to help you out!
Im thinking of you.
Felicity.
(No Blog ~ eq_starielle@yahoo.com.au)
You sound like such a beautiful Mother. Its unfair that you have to go through all this pain, fear and sadness. I really hope your DH gets it together and starts to help you out!
Im thinking of you.
Felicity.
(No Blog ~ eq_starielle@yahoo.com.au)
# posted by : 12:16 AM
: 12:16 AM
Baby -
I live in the states (CA) and just wanted to share with you how completely awesome you are. Not sure if it helps to hear that but you are. Hang in there for A. I'm a mother 4 times over and I wish I was half the mother you are. Men will always be men and I've forever wondered why mine doesn't think the way I think and it's because he's a man. I think the way you think and I hope that helps that you are understood in the world. Big hug and I wished I lived closer so I could help.
I live in the states (CA) and just wanted to share with you how completely awesome you are. Not sure if it helps to hear that but you are. Hang in there for A. I'm a mother 4 times over and I wish I was half the mother you are. Men will always be men and I've forever wondered why mine doesn't think the way I think and it's because he's a man. I think the way you think and I hope that helps that you are understood in the world. Big hug and I wished I lived closer so I could help.
# posted by : 5:54 AM
: 5:54 AM 
I am from NY and accidently came across your blog, I am mother of 3 at 28, and now feel guilty for taking birth control.
stay strong
I read all your posts from begining to end and have tears in my eyes
stay strong
I read all your posts from begining to end and have tears in my eyes
# posted by : 12:30 PM
: 12:30 PM
wow, a comment-fest. and I thought no one was reading!
anonymous: how on earth would you have the time to read FIVE YEARS of my ramblings if you have 3 kids? and why do you feel guilty for taking birth control? imho, birth control is the single best thing that ever happened to women and their kids; it's not the fault of fertile women that some of us don't have babies quite so easily. (even if we bitch about the fertiles sometime, we know it's not right!)
there's no doubt dh is less than perfect, but he does have good points: he loves me, he's a good provider (so oldfashioned, I know, but I'm well aware what it would mean if I had cancer, a kid and a layabout husband), and even if he forgets to feed his son sometimes, he does love the kid too and is happy to spend time with him. sometimes I think I just need to ask for more to get more. men: the management problem for the 21st century.
anyway, thanks for the kind comments; I hope I'm on the upward path again.
Post a Comment
anonymous: how on earth would you have the time to read FIVE YEARS of my ramblings if you have 3 kids? and why do you feel guilty for taking birth control? imho, birth control is the single best thing that ever happened to women and their kids; it's not the fault of fertile women that some of us don't have babies quite so easily. (even if we bitch about the fertiles sometime, we know it's not right!)
there's no doubt dh is less than perfect, but he does have good points: he loves me, he's a good provider (so oldfashioned, I know, but I'm well aware what it would mean if I had cancer, a kid and a layabout husband), and even if he forgets to feed his son sometimes, he does love the kid too and is happy to spend time with him. sometimes I think I just need to ask for more to get more. men: the management problem for the 21st century.
anyway, thanks for the kind comments; I hope I'm on the upward path again.
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home
Subscribe to Posts [Atom]