It's been a rough week, actually a rough few weeks. My mother was diagnosed with parathyroid disease. This has been going on for a few years, undiagnosed by a useless doctor she was very attached to for years. Finally, he retires, and his partner tells her she needs to get surgery. She is very upset, she dislikes him, she does NOT want to deal with reality.
I get a hold of her last few years of blood work and realize that, yes, in fact, she is in danger. When your parathyroid glands become abnormal or get growths on them, they prevent the bones in your body from absorbing the much needed calcium a woman needs. Mom went for a recent bone density test and was diagnosed in the 10th worst percentile for her age group. This is a very serious condition.
I have now realized that although I have never physically been able to become a mother, and never will, the rolls of course have reversed, and I had to get tough as mom was being very difficult in denial, her safe little world that she lives in. I had to play mom to her, and demand she behave.
I seeked out and researched the best of the best to find the right doctor and forced her to move forward immediately to begin the process of fixing this disease. If it goes ignored and untreated, you are sure to lose years from your life, have heart troubles, dementia, many bad things that would deteriorate your life, and mom wasn't digesting it, so I had to act quickly and firmly.
It took me about 2 months to find the right surgeon, take mom for a multitude of test and scans, and then find out that not one but two of these bastards had to be removed, you have 4 in total.
Mom was freaked out and very angry but I was adament and would not let her push this off. She wanted to wait a few months, but I demanded we do this immediately. This past Wednesday she had the surgery, and they took out the bad glands, and she is doing pretty good.
I am grateful that I found this great surgeon with some help from a few resources and research and although he was very business like and not a warm fuzzy guy, he got a damn big bear hug when he told me that she was okay, and as soon as the blood tests showed success, they would close her up (her neck) and she would go to recovery. He exited pretty quickly from the waiting area after I hugged him, and then she ended up in recovery and was awake when I got there and squeezed my hand so strongly!
This today is a happy and grateful post. I am grateful that my mom listened to me and went into the surgery like a soldier, I would have shit myself to be honest with you.
So some peace this weekend, and reflection that life does have some good and you have to open yourself up and appreciate it when it comes, no matter how bad the losses have gutted you, embrace the good as much as you can, drink it like fine wine because there hasn't been enough in my life lately to enjoy.
No talk about the infertile hell tonight, because tonight I celebrate my mom, who I love so much and am so grateful to have.
But I promise there will be more bitching to come in the near future. Good night.
Friday, February 21, 2014
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
It's a new year, 2014, and sooooo, where do we go from here? Trying to get over yet another loss.
So another year has gone by. A few months since my last post. Sometimes I find it hard to come here and drudge up my feelings. Sometimes I think it might be healthier to try and avoid my blog, to try and resist the feelings I have, not express them, not validate them, and then maybe they will go away?
I think not. Sometimes when I post I get more depressed from typing the words that I write. Not today. I think it feels good right now to let it out. So here I go again.......................
We had another loss the end of October. It was a completely unexpected tragedy. One of my beautiful baby kitties had recurring bladder infections/cystitis. I was told that she was in a lot of pain. Of course we gave her the best treatment we could, antibiotics, steroids, pain meds, but an ultrasound showed that she had crystals and needed to have an operation. Little Mewer at only 5 years old, had to have her 2nd bladder surgery in only 4 years. I know the pain of the Interstitial Cystitis myself and I didn't want her to suffer another day. My veterinarian insisted this was a basic routine surgery, and she would be just fine. Having a cat spayed is more serious. So I scheduled the surgery that week and made sure she slept with me the night before, I needed her to feel my love and to be close to her. I brought her in for the surgery and promised her I would not let anyone hurt her.
After dropping her off I went to my regular doctor for an emergency check-up as I had been feeling very dizzy lately and experiencing crushing chest pain. Turns out my BP which is usually 120 over 70, has now risen to 140 over 90. He said it's anxiety. Hmmm, what a surprise. He prescribed me an anti-anxiety/anti-depressant and I left. I spent the next couple of hours with my mom shopping for a clothes dryer since mine had broken. Then I called the vet's office to see how Mewer was and they said she's perfect, come pick her up. I was thrilled. I got to the office and the doctor was happy saying the surgery went great, she was very irritated when they had her opened up, but that she was all fixed now, no complications, just take her home and let her rest. She will be groggy from both the anesthesia and the pain medication. I stopped for a slice of pizza and ate it in the car, not wanting to disturb her yet. Then I went home and brought her upstairs to our hall bathroom for a peaceful recovery as we have other cats and I did not want her to be disturbed. She got up out of the carrier and went to her bed near the heat duct and went to sleep. I checked on her a few times over the next few hours and she looked tired and groggy, but seemed to be resting comfortably.
I thought everything was fine, my husband was at work and had stopped by and checked on her also, we thought she was fine. About 5 hours had gone by and I heard a strange meow, but all of the kitties were out and I thought they were just playing around, play fighting, etc., but then a few minutes later I heard it again. I rushed up to the bathroom where one of my cats was standing outside with a terrified look on her face, the door was closed so she couldn't see anything.
When I opened the door, my baby Mewer was collapsed against the door and bleeding from right below the incision area and she was shaking. I couldn't get the door open because she was up against it with the injured area facing the door opening. I scurried to get the other curious kitties out of the way and managed to gently get the door open and scooped her up in a towel and rushed her 5 minutes away to the animal emergency hospital. I didn't think she was going to make it. I called to tell them to grab her as soon as I got there, which they did. The doctor came out about 15 minutes later in shock and told me that she wasn't sure what had happened but she was in critical condition and hemorrhaging. She was also in shock from losing so much blood. They said they would give her plasma and then a blood transfusion.
I was shaking in my chair. How could this happen? She was supposed to have done just fine! My husband met me at the animal hospital after racing out of work and we both went in to see her, and she was alive but in very critical condition. We told her we loved her and the doctor said we could call whenever we wanted to check in, and that she would call me with any updates.
I couldn't sleep that night, I called every 2 hours and it seemed like maybe she had a chance. Finally the doctor called me and said she made it through the transfusion but they couldn't get blood to check anything because her veins were shutting down, she said she would call me back. I had no idea that this was a very bad sign. Less than 5 minutes later my husbands phone rang and the doctor said she was in cardiac arrest and not responding to CPR, how long should they keep trying? He said give her another 5 minutes at least. She didn't make it. We lost her. How could this happen? We were told she died from a coagulopathy. Supposedly she couldn't clot after the trauma of the surgery and she slowly bled to death, despite me getting her to the hospital alive, it was too late.
I still look around the house for her and miss her sleeping with me, running outside the door of the house to collapse outside and feel the cool breeze that she loved. Running over to greet the other kitties with a head butt because she was so loving. I miss her head butts.
So again, a broken heart. When the thoughts of her come to my head I try to push them away. I still miss and love her and grieve her but I can't let myself think about it for very long because it hurts so bad. I will never forgive myself for what happened even though it's not my fault. I only know that if I had brought her to a medical center that is open 24 hours, they would have monitored her and been able to detect that something was wrong and perhaps she would be in my lap right now as I type.
I will never ever believe that a surgery is routine ever again. My kitties will only go to 24 hour medical centers for any medical procedures in the future.
So this year we lost another baby, Mewer the beautiful kitty at 5 years old. Last year it was our orange pony kitty Sebastian at 6 years old. His immune system killed him, just like mine killed my babies.
Tattoo number 2 is in the works. Paw prints on the same leg as my tiny hearts for my three babies.
Four paw prints to start, there will always be more in the future since the only babies I will ever have will be my kitties and nothing lives forever.
Another crappy post, I'm so sorry to share my sad news but this is my life. And each loss triggers all of the pain I have suffered over the years trying to make my babies and then living with the loss of then, and then my kitties too.
I'm still breathing. I have some things to be thankful for. I have my husband, he's stuck around even though I'm not the fun person I used to be. I'm trying so hard to get some of my old self back.
I have my mom, who has to have a surgery next month, supposedly a relatively simple procedure, she will be 79. So I will be scared of course but I have to be strong for her, I need her to stick around.
I still have my other kitties, and my heart patient, the famous poo poo paw will hopefully celebrate his 11th birthday in May. His last Echo was similar to the last, not worse so that's a hopeful sign that he will try and stick around for me.
After Mewer passed away I went up to my friend's animal hospital upstate and spent time helping out with the precious animals and somehow it gave me some comfort to look in their scared little eyes and tell then I loved them. I will have to make time to volunteer up there more often in the future.
Lastly, I want to say how appreciative I am that after going through a handful of therapists, I finally found the one that keeps me sane. She validates my feelings. She makes me believe that it's okay to protect myself from the land mines in life, and to pick and choose what I will or won't do according to my comfort level. I am so thankful for you LP xoxo, just in case you are reading this.
Tomorrow I get an MRI of my back, it's been very painful and I'm hoping that maybe we can find a way to make it better.
Getting older sucks, especially when your body is falling apart.
I know I have to find a way to make myself happier as I come to terms that my life never be complete without the son or daughter I always dreamed of, and that I was tortured into actually thinking it might happen when I was pregnant, to be honest with you. I really don't know how many people would have survived the torture I went through with the hundreds of injections, blood tests, ultrasounds, and surgeries, but I was determined to win! But now I have to try to put the little pieces of my crappy puzzle together and try to find peace, or make peace with the life that I have been given.
Future plans: Travel, as much as possible, try to want to take better care of myself. Get as much love as I possible can from my kitties. Take better care of my husband and try not to neglect him.
Spend as much time with my mom while she is on this earth, hopefully another 30 years, at least.
It has been a little over 3 years since I lost my babies. It still hurts, I am still angry and fragile, but I guess I have become a little bit stronger with time. Life is so short, I have to try and get the most I can out of the shitty hand that I have been dealt.
I'm hoping next post will be lighter. Infertile Hell has taken so much from me, maybe it's time I start fighting back!
I think not. Sometimes when I post I get more depressed from typing the words that I write. Not today. I think it feels good right now to let it out. So here I go again.......................
We had another loss the end of October. It was a completely unexpected tragedy. One of my beautiful baby kitties had recurring bladder infections/cystitis. I was told that she was in a lot of pain. Of course we gave her the best treatment we could, antibiotics, steroids, pain meds, but an ultrasound showed that she had crystals and needed to have an operation. Little Mewer at only 5 years old, had to have her 2nd bladder surgery in only 4 years. I know the pain of the Interstitial Cystitis myself and I didn't want her to suffer another day. My veterinarian insisted this was a basic routine surgery, and she would be just fine. Having a cat spayed is more serious. So I scheduled the surgery that week and made sure she slept with me the night before, I needed her to feel my love and to be close to her. I brought her in for the surgery and promised her I would not let anyone hurt her.
After dropping her off I went to my regular doctor for an emergency check-up as I had been feeling very dizzy lately and experiencing crushing chest pain. Turns out my BP which is usually 120 over 70, has now risen to 140 over 90. He said it's anxiety. Hmmm, what a surprise. He prescribed me an anti-anxiety/anti-depressant and I left. I spent the next couple of hours with my mom shopping for a clothes dryer since mine had broken. Then I called the vet's office to see how Mewer was and they said she's perfect, come pick her up. I was thrilled. I got to the office and the doctor was happy saying the surgery went great, she was very irritated when they had her opened up, but that she was all fixed now, no complications, just take her home and let her rest. She will be groggy from both the anesthesia and the pain medication. I stopped for a slice of pizza and ate it in the car, not wanting to disturb her yet. Then I went home and brought her upstairs to our hall bathroom for a peaceful recovery as we have other cats and I did not want her to be disturbed. She got up out of the carrier and went to her bed near the heat duct and went to sleep. I checked on her a few times over the next few hours and she looked tired and groggy, but seemed to be resting comfortably.
I thought everything was fine, my husband was at work and had stopped by and checked on her also, we thought she was fine. About 5 hours had gone by and I heard a strange meow, but all of the kitties were out and I thought they were just playing around, play fighting, etc., but then a few minutes later I heard it again. I rushed up to the bathroom where one of my cats was standing outside with a terrified look on her face, the door was closed so she couldn't see anything.
When I opened the door, my baby Mewer was collapsed against the door and bleeding from right below the incision area and she was shaking. I couldn't get the door open because she was up against it with the injured area facing the door opening. I scurried to get the other curious kitties out of the way and managed to gently get the door open and scooped her up in a towel and rushed her 5 minutes away to the animal emergency hospital. I didn't think she was going to make it. I called to tell them to grab her as soon as I got there, which they did. The doctor came out about 15 minutes later in shock and told me that she wasn't sure what had happened but she was in critical condition and hemorrhaging. She was also in shock from losing so much blood. They said they would give her plasma and then a blood transfusion.
I was shaking in my chair. How could this happen? She was supposed to have done just fine! My husband met me at the animal hospital after racing out of work and we both went in to see her, and she was alive but in very critical condition. We told her we loved her and the doctor said we could call whenever we wanted to check in, and that she would call me with any updates.
I couldn't sleep that night, I called every 2 hours and it seemed like maybe she had a chance. Finally the doctor called me and said she made it through the transfusion but they couldn't get blood to check anything because her veins were shutting down, she said she would call me back. I had no idea that this was a very bad sign. Less than 5 minutes later my husbands phone rang and the doctor said she was in cardiac arrest and not responding to CPR, how long should they keep trying? He said give her another 5 minutes at least. She didn't make it. We lost her. How could this happen? We were told she died from a coagulopathy. Supposedly she couldn't clot after the trauma of the surgery and she slowly bled to death, despite me getting her to the hospital alive, it was too late.
I still look around the house for her and miss her sleeping with me, running outside the door of the house to collapse outside and feel the cool breeze that she loved. Running over to greet the other kitties with a head butt because she was so loving. I miss her head butts.
So again, a broken heart. When the thoughts of her come to my head I try to push them away. I still miss and love her and grieve her but I can't let myself think about it for very long because it hurts so bad. I will never forgive myself for what happened even though it's not my fault. I only know that if I had brought her to a medical center that is open 24 hours, they would have monitored her and been able to detect that something was wrong and perhaps she would be in my lap right now as I type.
I will never ever believe that a surgery is routine ever again. My kitties will only go to 24 hour medical centers for any medical procedures in the future.
So this year we lost another baby, Mewer the beautiful kitty at 5 years old. Last year it was our orange pony kitty Sebastian at 6 years old. His immune system killed him, just like mine killed my babies.
Tattoo number 2 is in the works. Paw prints on the same leg as my tiny hearts for my three babies.
Four paw prints to start, there will always be more in the future since the only babies I will ever have will be my kitties and nothing lives forever.
Another crappy post, I'm so sorry to share my sad news but this is my life. And each loss triggers all of the pain I have suffered over the years trying to make my babies and then living with the loss of then, and then my kitties too.
I'm still breathing. I have some things to be thankful for. I have my husband, he's stuck around even though I'm not the fun person I used to be. I'm trying so hard to get some of my old self back.
I have my mom, who has to have a surgery next month, supposedly a relatively simple procedure, she will be 79. So I will be scared of course but I have to be strong for her, I need her to stick around.
I still have my other kitties, and my heart patient, the famous poo poo paw will hopefully celebrate his 11th birthday in May. His last Echo was similar to the last, not worse so that's a hopeful sign that he will try and stick around for me.
After Mewer passed away I went up to my friend's animal hospital upstate and spent time helping out with the precious animals and somehow it gave me some comfort to look in their scared little eyes and tell then I loved them. I will have to make time to volunteer up there more often in the future.
Lastly, I want to say how appreciative I am that after going through a handful of therapists, I finally found the one that keeps me sane. She validates my feelings. She makes me believe that it's okay to protect myself from the land mines in life, and to pick and choose what I will or won't do according to my comfort level. I am so thankful for you LP xoxo, just in case you are reading this.
Tomorrow I get an MRI of my back, it's been very painful and I'm hoping that maybe we can find a way to make it better.
Getting older sucks, especially when your body is falling apart.
I know I have to find a way to make myself happier as I come to terms that my life never be complete without the son or daughter I always dreamed of, and that I was tortured into actually thinking it might happen when I was pregnant, to be honest with you. I really don't know how many people would have survived the torture I went through with the hundreds of injections, blood tests, ultrasounds, and surgeries, but I was determined to win! But now I have to try to put the little pieces of my crappy puzzle together and try to find peace, or make peace with the life that I have been given.
Future plans: Travel, as much as possible, try to want to take better care of myself. Get as much love as I possible can from my kitties. Take better care of my husband and try not to neglect him.
Spend as much time with my mom while she is on this earth, hopefully another 30 years, at least.
It has been a little over 3 years since I lost my babies. It still hurts, I am still angry and fragile, but I guess I have become a little bit stronger with time. Life is so short, I have to try and get the most I can out of the shitty hand that I have been dealt.
I'm hoping next post will be lighter. Infertile Hell has taken so much from me, maybe it's time I start fighting back!
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