Fear is something I have known most of my life. My Grandmother...had she not been the only "real" parent figure I had, I do not know where I would be today.
There is no need for me to go into details...some of this I have already shared, my mother was an alcoholic. Her disease began long before I was born...in fact by the time I was born she'd already honed her disease for fifteen years.
My Dad had a lot of anger within him that he did not bother to control. It was my Dad who chose the man I married.
My marriage was a total of eleven years. A lot of bad things can happen in eleven years, and they did.
Finally the marriage ended, but the damage done during the marriage is permanently engraved on my flesh, my mind, my heart, and my soul.
The flesh is the easiest part of the equation to deal with. In my thirties I had extensive surgeries to find a functioning human being beneath the network of scars, whip-lashed flesh, and drug destroyed internal organs.
Finally I went to college and cried in utter relief when I got that first "A"...the drugs had NOT fried my brain.
I was this close to graduating when they found the dark spots on my lungs and the cough that is strong enough to break my ribs was found. Seems somewhere within my life, I've developed a hole in the top left lung. (I am one of only six people in the entire world with such a hole...and no, they have no idea what to do about it.)
The dark spots...well they're scar tissue that has somehow found its way into the cosy cavities of both lungs.
Hall's Cool Berry Fruit Breezers have become my addiction. They soothe the ravaged throat muscles that the cough rips to shreds.
I returned to Graduate School...and was finishing up my Practicums when my first bout of cancer hit...and yes, in an area already abused and misused during the years of my marriage.
What is left is weak, so I live in constant fear...I do not eat out in public...can't take the chance.
Seven years later, the end of 1998, cancer returned. Chemo and radiation...surgery. To get through the emotional pain of having this part of my body once more under attack, I threw myself into getting my PhD. I don't often share what my doctorate is it, but it along with Glenn Kleier's book, THE LAST DAY, saved my sanity. My PhD is in THEOSOPHICAL EDUCATION...oh and earning my degree made me an ordained non-denominational minister. How weird is that, Lea? And if my being that changes how any of you think about me or treat me, I'm going to be more than just a little pissed off!
What was already weak, weakened more.
June 30th, 2007, an intestinal obstruction landed me on the critical list and in the hospital...and because of the blows I took to certain portions of my body, an umbilical hernia punched through.
July 26th, 2007 The umbilical hernia was operated on...it now reclines on what I call, its mesh hammock for the rest of my life...we hope.
July 29th 2008 I suffered something they call a mini-stroke or a TIA. The right side of my face...well it sagged...my mind got fuzzy...and has never completely recovered.
August 10th, 2008, Eric found us. Eric is my ex-husband's brother, and believe me, I had no reason to trust anyone from that side of the universe. What finally got me to drop the walls enough to let Eric in?
Seems my ex-husband was arrested in March 2001 and Eric wanted the truth..and even though he was pretty sure the truth was going to be bad, he has such a core of honor, he sought us out.
He has disowned his family and absorbed us into his. His wife has told me for the first time he feels like he's found a part of himself that he always felt was missing.
Eric gave us back something we hadn't realized how much we were missing...family.
April 1, 2010 I was having problems in my lower left side. I had never been diagnosed with diverticulitis...an emergency (STAT) CT scan proved I had it now, but also proved cancer might be back in the other part of me down there that my ex so casually destroyed.
Further testing...horrific testing that felt like I was back there in that marital violence followed. Nightmares are something I can usually keep at bay...but not after that.
I do not EVER let a male doctor near me...even letting a woman doctor touch me takes a great deal of inner strength.
Surgery had to be performed. There was a female doctor, but she had no openings until October...this now was July. (Testing requires approval by insurance companies now...so getting anything done immediately unless it is a STAT situation is impossible.)
I am not going to bore you with how the male treated me...I wanted to get it over and done with...so took my tranquilizers and had the surgery.
Six weeks of calling and leaving messages FINALLY got the male doctor to call me back, very annoyed, and tell me the biopsy of the tissue taken from me was benign.
There is no need for me to tell you all the other things that were going on in our lives. Kat and I had battles that had nothing to do with either of our health issues on our plates too. Some of you know what those issues were...some don't.
Fast Forward...bleeding...went to my primary...what she saw without touching worried her and her nurse.
She spoke to the surgeon before sending me to him...YES a HIM...He looked without touching...now remember I have to be heavily sedated to let my FEMALE doctor near me, so know I was sedated now too...My mind is not in the best place.
He would not touch just look...no touching would be done until I am out in the OR...scheduled surgery for Jan. 21st.
The mind slipped back into the world of my marriage...a horrible place...and my nerves began screaming.
Kat had never seen me lose it...I kept that away from my children...but I lost it on the phone with the surgeon's scheduler and Kat saw it. My therapist also witnessed it.
Both were terrified I was going to mentally fracture...canceling the surgery and saving my sanity? Or going ahead and have the surgery...those were the options.
None of us knows why the messages my therapist left my primary never made it to her, but she had no clue I'd canceled the surgery until I saw her last Wednesday for the shingles outbreak.
So there you have it. I know I am a coward, but I cannot re-write my history and that is what I have to live with.