welcome to the danger zone

Posts tagged “work

Untitled (Because I Couldn’t Think of a Funny Way to Say I’m Miserable)

All I want, more than anything else, is just one more morning where I wake up, and I don’t have to battle my body to try and feel normal. I want one more day, where the word “cancer” doesn’t cross my brain. One more day where everything I do or plan isn’t hampered by whether or not I can stand the pain or have to consider a doctor’s visit, or possible treatment. A night where I fall asleep without having to medicate first to grab an hour or two of “ok.”

I’m jealous of all those people who get this stupid diagnosis and then live their lives like there’s nothing stopping them. It’s not enough that I am physically unable to do shit, but my brain makes me feel like a failure because I can’t be one of those people doing amazing things like you read about on the internet, how people put this disease aside and make a difference. Maybe it’s the mortality thing, maybe when you know time is limited to make a difference, you feel guilty that you haven’t done enough. Instead of it being enough that I care about people and try to make everyone’s life brighter when I can, I feel like I suck at life because I haven’t rescued drowning puppies and made blankets for 100 sick kids. I can’t even fucking clean my house. I look around and feel like an abject failure at life.

Then there the fear that everything is the last time. I know people hate when I talk about being sick around them…the sad faces, the attempts at trying to cheer me up, the uncomfortableness, but it’s my reality. It’s in my head from the time I get up until I go to bed – can I get through work today? Will this be my last summer, is this the last time I will be celebrating Andy’s birthday? What about Halloween? Christmas? And worse than any of it, is the fear of what it’s going to be like if I start to get sicker. (I almost said when I get sicker, but I am trying to stay optimistic) What’s that gonna look like? Will I have the guts when I need to make hard choices? What about money? What about all this stuff that surrounds me? Do I get rid of it now or wait? And then there’s everyone who is trying to “help” me with information and opinions, which I know come out of love, but really, this is me people, do you think I don’t already do a ton of research on my own? I appreciate the thought, but I feel like I am doing what’s right for me right now…you may not agree with my choices, but their mine. Believe me, I do enough second guessing of myself for all of us. I go over the “what ifs” daily.

I am so fucking weepy these last few days. Yesterday sucked pain wise, physically and emotionally. I’ve been weepy all week, because I finally said out loud what is in my head through the day…how much longer do I have? It’s not like anyone knows right now. No one wants to hear that coming out of my mouth, but it’s my fucking reality. I try to be positive, I try to be hopeful, but when that stabbing stinging pain is there reminding me that the fucking pufferfish is still in the same spot doing it’s cancerous thing, it kind of spoils my fun. It’s the thinnest edge right now on whether or not I’m going to burst into tears at any moment. I know I’m depressed – I know I’m hormonally fucked up because of the Tamoxifen, and like I said before, I want just one more day where I am not a moody bitch, who feels like I am on fire one minute and freezing the next and hurting and tired. Like right now, as my body feels like I am in a fucking lobster pot. In five minutes, I’ll be looking for a blanket. And this will go on all night. AND IT”S NOT EVEN LIKE MY FAT IS MELTNG WHEN I AM ON FIRE…there’s no benefit to this whatsoever, except maybe the cancer fighting properties.

I’m terrified about Monday. I know the return of the pain is not a good sign, nor is the bloated feeling in my stomach. And after this Monday, I’ll live in fear for a week until I see the Dr. and hear what’s next. I couldn’t wait for this day to get here, so I could see if things improved, and now I’m dreading the waiting for hours after my scan to see the report. It’s a brutal double edged sword. I’m trying to focus on the fun things I have ahead. It’s just so hard some days to see anything good ahead. And it makes me feel like if I am just resting, I am wasting the time I have left.

So I’ve vented. I feel better, but now it’s time for some more pills. It seems like my phone is always reminding me it’s time for more pills. And I’m going to go look for a hotel for next weekend because I am going to rent me a car and go away by myself for a day or two, head out to the ocean and get right with the sea. One positive thing that had come from this is my new philosophy about buying things…before I buy something now, I ask myself, who will want this when I am dead? If the answer is no one, I don’t buy it. I’ve not purchased a lot of shit doing this…like when I almost bought the giant giraffe head grabber at the zoo. No one wants that shit but me, so I don’t need it. I’ll put the money to use doing something fun for me…like letting the ocean heal me.

Sorry for the ramble, but I took some pain meds when I couldn’t get rid of the stinging of the pufferfish any other way. My adult ADHD is particularly bad today, it’s taken me over two hours just to write this. I get distracted at every turn. I even went back and read a few older entries as I wrote this and stumbled across the post I wrote about getting my tattoo for being cancer free. Not anymore. But I sobbed and cried while typing and feel like I let go of some of my anxiety, so thanks for sticking around for the bipolar trip. Maybe on Friday, I’ll pull out my soapbox and write one of my biting social commentary entries. Dog knows, western civilization pisses me off daily.

Before I go, I forgot to mention a really special good thing that happened. I went to a “gotcha day” last Wednesday…one of the kids I have been working with since she was six weeks old was adopted. It was an amazing thing to do, be there to see the judge finalize the adoption, and know that because of me, I made sure this little person now has security and hope for the future. It was so cute when everyone was crying after the decree, the little person looked around and said “why everyone cry?” It was adorable. And a good feeling to hang onto in a job where there are very few happy days. I have one more little person who is on the cusp of being adopted as well, and hopefully I’ll get to still be at work long enough to see that happen, because that little deserves a shot at a great future too. I need to print out the picture and hang it at my desk so I can remember that what I do, does make a difference.

And now I’ll try again to sleep. I am exhausted – I tried sleeping when I got home, but it didn’t really work out. So I’ll try again. Until something shiny catches my eye. Or I start playing a game. Enjoy your night my friends, and thanks for bearing with my emotional rollercoaster, I know it’s not easy. Especially for me. Sweet dreams (or nightmares, should you prefer)

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Baby Snatcher Blues

I’m feeling rather peevish today. I keep reminding myself that there are many good things in my life and that I could redirect my energy to meditation or reading or even crafting something. Nope, here I am, knowing full well that what I put out there brings more of the same. However, I also know that if I don’t vent a bit, I’ll be tossing and turning for an hour before I sleep and THEN I’ll end up taking some tylenol pm and be a miserable beast in the morning.

 

I don’t like people. I may have revealed this fact before, but if not, here it is, for the world to see. I don’t mind being alone. I like my own company. Alas, the world is full of people, and I have to work with them, or at the very least, interact with them. And yes, it’s only Tuesday, but this week the job seems like I’ve been working 30 days straight without a break. People have looked me straight in the eye and lied to me, I’ve gone into places that will leave me with emotional scarring for a lifetime, and then I have been forced to meet with people who fancy themselves professionals just because they received some paper from a university stating they graduated. Well, in that fancy university where you got your degree, they certainly didn’t teach you to act like a grown up. Or to have compassion. Or be kind. Or how to treat others like humans. And if I had had a flamethrower today, I would have made headlines.

 

So now it’s relaxing time. Am I relaxed? No. I am wishing I had a job as a character at Disneyland. Sure it might not be as glamorous as my current job as a baby snatcher, but at least I wouldn’t have to respond when other idiots are speaking about things they know very little about. People wouldn’t expect me to be a magician, an accountant, a counselor, a driver (because I’m too lazy to use spell check to correct chauffeur), mapquest, a mindreader, a polygraph machine and a teacher.

 

(breaking news: spring has officially arrived here – the neighbors have taken their family “discussions” to the street so that all of us can have alternative to television – I, for one, could not wait for the weather to get pleasant enough outside to need to put the air conditioner in the window to simply block out their dulcet voices late at night – I rarely hear “fuck” this often outside the agency’s offices)

 

We return now to our previous ranting. While writing, I have been adjusting my attitude, hitting mute on the remote now and again to hear if the bellowing has died down, and trying to stay focused on the writing. I wish I could win the lotto tomorrow and go off and volunteer somewhere but in order to win, I would have to remember to buy a ticket. Yet, in spite of all the unpleasantness of the day, and the disappointment in the soft Chips-ahoy root beer float flavored cookies, I still come away with a bright spot – actually two – from the kids I am keeping safe – a hug and growl, both given with much affection. And any day when a kid who usually won’t even look at me, growls and giggles, is probably a pretty good day.

Oh yeah, and in this past week, I believe I’ve helped two littles onto a better future. Pat on my back for my role in that shit. It’s the little things, it’s the little things, it’s the little things, it’s the little thi….

 

(And for those of you lucky enough to have heard tell of my most recent cockroach encounter complete with hand gestures and horrified faces, sleep well knowing I still jump a little every time I think something moved in my peripheral vision. Enjoy that image.)