So I have signed consent for the laporotomy. I’m here, might as well give it my best shot. Wish me luck x
I’m in hospital, waiting for surgery. The consultant has been to see me. As usual, everything seems much more serious than I realised.
I’ll hopefully be having both fallopian tubes removed, but the surgeon said he may have to open me up to do this, as it may be too difficult with laparoscopy. Apparently everything is very stuck down, making removal of two small parts very difficult. He may not be successful at all.
I got the impression from the consultant in January, that he had managed to do quite a good job of removing the cysts and clearing a lot of the endometriosis. But here I am, looking at having a laporotomy, and even that might not work.
Oh and I needed to hand in a sample earlier, for a pregnancy test. The nurse who did it just walked past my bay and said, looking relieved and laughing abit, ‘negative’. How much nicer it would have been for her to come and speak to me properly and just explain what test had been done, and the result, with no sigh of relief.
I want to cry, but I’m on my own, there are only nurses around. They don’t seem to understand, they just have to get people into gowns and off to theatre. I’m not going until 3 o clock, so I have a long time to wait and I’ll have to stay in overnight.
I’m going to try and keep calm, but I really just want this to be over.
The night before last, I had a drinking dream. I dreamt it was the morning after, and I found an almost empty bottle of some weird kind of wine. I was hungover, and couldn’t get on with my day because I felt ill. As usual, I was so relieved it was a dream when I woke up.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t paying enough attention yesterday, and I had a waking slip up. I hadn’t been paying attention, because I’ve been thinking about other things. On Wednesday, I will have the surgery to remove my fallopian tubes and hopefully the fibroid. It feels a lot different than when my previous surgery was imminent. Firstly, I am well. I’m not desperate to get into theatre and have cysts removed, which had become extremely uncomfortable, and very painful a week or two before the operation. Secondly, I, essentially, am choosing to do this. I’m choosing to have the surgery with all that entails, for example the recovery, time off work etc. And lastly, like every phase of this journey, there will be an outcome, of sorts, which could be good news, might be something bad. For example, there could be another cyst, I don’t know, anything. I’m trying not to think too much about that aspect of it.
So here I was, with all of that on my mind. My husband had told me the other day about one of the Ice Road Truckers who had died at 53. My husband is 53. He said it had made him think briefly about age and mortality, but that he decided he had too many model boats to build and too much travelling to do before his time is up. As usual, I started thinking about his seeming lack of interest in talking about our fertility treatment as if it could actually be a success; about his preoccupation with his own dreams. I wondered if this is all just me on my own, I wonder if I can cope with doing this without his support. Although now I do admit that I was being a tiny bit melodramatic.
At work yesterday everyone was wishing me good luck – I won’t see them again until afterwards because its’ now half term. After work, I had my second pre-op assessment, because the first was back in April. When that was over, my husband and I drove round looking for somewhere to have a meal out. We must have gone to about four pubs, which were all heaving – car parks full etc – before we ended up at The Beehive not far from home. On the journey I had been thinking about having a glass of wine – see, not paying attention to sobriety allows these thoughts in. I didn’t even remember my dream from the night before!
I even ordered a soda water at the bar and we went to sit down. I had already discussed with Mr W in the car that I wanted to feel he is supporting me in our goal to have a baby. I asked him not to talk so much about his dreams exclusively, as it makes me feel as though we want totally different things. Which isn’t true – he does want this, he’s just afraid all the treatments will lead to nothing.
Anyway, we got to the table and looked the menu. He asked me if he could go to some sort of model exhibition in Germany in 2019 as a retirement present. I immediately said yes. I don’t mind him doing that. But then I started to think about everything I’d explained above, and I just thought ‘why is he doing this again? why is he asking me stuff like this when I have other things to be worrying about’. I needed support from him – a lot of it – for the coming week. Why, again, do I have to think about our future in terms of him sat in his shed building model boats, and planning where we’re going on our next round the world trip? I don’t want to go round the world, I want to finish working on our home and enjoy my life here!!
So the waitress came to take our order and I asked for a large Sauvignon Blanc. I had already been talking about having wine and Mr W had already said one glass wont hurt. At this point I was just annoyed and wanted to act out. So I had the wine. Mr W apologised and said he hadn’t wanted to upset me.
I realise now that my husband isn’t ignoring the issue. He’s just dealing with it in his own way. He does talk about what we’re going though with other people (sometimes with his customers, and I joke that the world and his dog will know our story soon!). I think that’s his way of dealing with it. Maybe he doesn’t know what to say to me as he can’t tell me that we will be successful, because no one knows that.
As for my slip with the wine… I didn’t enjoy it very much. I felt woozy afterwards, and would much rather have gone to be stone cold sober to be honest. I felt like there wasn’t much point to it. And the worst thing, if I was in a different state of mind, it would probably pave the way for more drinking, say, tonight, as it’s Saturday.
But I’m not going to let any of it bother me. I don’t feel guilty. I just made a wrong decision yesterday, and I can choose again today. I have mentally connected sobriety to my health during this stretch of 40 days, and it doesn’t feel as though one glass of wine makes me a failure. I’m not going to reset my day counter. I will just add a ‘-1’ to the total. That might seem wrong to some people, but I feel that re-setting and starting with day 1 would be more difficult, make me feel more guilty, and make me more likely to lapse again. And I can’t get into any of that when I have surgery less than a week away.
I’ve had a cold this week and I felt terrible weds to sat, it really drained me. My mood was affected and I felt a lack of support from my husband. You know, just with domestic stuff. I feel as usual, like he never helps me with anything. On Friday I got sick of the feeling of banging my head against the wall. I go through cycles of being pissed off with him, then ultimately deciding that I like the house to be a certain level of cleanliness and I tell myself I do it for me, kind of like a part of my self care. Which is fine until time or energy levels change and I start feeling resentful again. Hang on a minute, I hear you cry, aren’t you the one that wants a baby? Have you no idea the work that involves, and here you are complaining when it’s only the two of you? Yes I know.
On Friday like I said, I started thinking that I need to know how to get myself out of this cycle. And other patterns of negativity too. I’m fed up of being so negative, so fearful.
Saturday morning I lay in bed trying to gather myself together for the weekly shop, still feeling rubbish with the cold. A thought came into my head; ‘I want to be close to God’. Now, I have been asking recently, to be shown the way. To be shown how to live my life, because frankly, I don’t think I’m doing the best job. Not that I feel I’m ‘failing’, just that there has to be more to life that this. I’ve felt a bit spiritually empty. But I hadn’t actually thought of the g – word. I was brought up a christian, but somewhere along the way I began to relate more to the idea of ‘the universe’ as God felt too much like a person. But here I was, lying in bed and it just popped into my mind.
I looked at some stuff from Holly Whitaker at hip sobriety, and started to think that it might be an idea to put into practice some of her tips. After all, if you keep doing what you’ve always been doing, you’ll keep getting what you’ve always been getting, right? Time to do some things differently.
When I woke up this morning, I realised that I will never be able to change my husbands behaviour. I can only change my attitude and my behaviour. And I want a more harmonious home, I want us to be concerned with bigger things than my petty ‘who does what’ thinking. I want more love in our lives, more happiness. So I decided to start very small. I wrote a little list of intentions for the day. I played meditation music whilst making myself a healthy breakfast. I did some jobs around the house. And a book dropped through the letterbox. On a Sunday?! I opened the parcel, and it was ‘a return to love’ by Marianne Williamson that I ordered only a couple of days ago. I don’t do amazon prime or anything, so I thought it would be a week of so before I got it, but here it is! So I started reading this morning and I love it so far. I also looked at a couple of articles on Mastin Kipp’s site, which I found the link to on hip sobriety. It was about rituals, specifically night time rituals. Tonight I got everything sorted ready for tomorrow, so hopefully I can give myself a bit of time to think about my intention for the day. I’ve stuck a few quotes on my mirror and I’m going to read a little more of the book now, even though it’s late.
Even if I forget to say affirmations that I’ve found, or don’t meditate every day, I don’t think I’ll forget what I thought about yesterday morning: ‘I want to be close to God’. I’m not sure where it’s coming from, but I really feel it.
I need to set up my day counter app. No! not because I’ve had a drink, but because I’m on day 30 and I didn’t set it up this time. Working out what day I’m on is starting to get a bit long-winded.
This weekend I had a few cravings for wine. I think the 2-4 week period -at weekends – is definitely a tough one for me. And feeling ‘up’ is a bit of a trigger, on the weekends. For example, when I drive home from the gym singing along to Bon Jovi at full blast on a Friday afternoon, I think ‘what do I do with this high feeling?’ and I just want some wine to sort of celebrate or something. But I didn’t have any. Whilst driving around and enjoying myself just as much the next morning, I was very glad I hadn’t, as I wouldn’t have been so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed!
Last week I did have ups and downs, but it is all a learning curve. I’m getting quite into the insight timer app, (where would I be without apps…) and in particular the ‘change is the only constant’ guided meditation. It talks about the serenity prayer and I’ve found that after listening, I do tend to remember throughout the day, that circumstances, thoughts and even feelings are always changing constantly. The bad feelings pass, the good moments are to be savoured.
Tonight I’m feeling happy, and I’m savouring being alone. I’ve got a burning sore throat which I hope doesn’t develop into a cold, so I’m not doing anything much. Watching Nashville, got a couple of candles lit and wrapped up warm on the sofa. Two weeks till my op, counting down!
Thank you for the comments on my last post, I really do appreciate all of your support 🙂
I have good news. I spoke to our friend’s partner this morning – he was on his way back to the hospital. Thankfully, it looks as though she is going to be OK. She was out of bed and walking a little this morning, and they’re just waiting for a bed to become available on the ward so that she can be moved from intensive care. They’ll be doing an assessment next week to determine what treatment she’ll need. I’m so relieved… It must have been terrifying for her family.
I also have more good news…at work on Friday I did my normal routine of taking my phone out of my bag and taking it off silent, putting it in my pocket. I was doing this partly so that I would be immediately aware of any updates on our friend, but also because it has become my little ritual, hoping for a phone call about my surgery. Well, what do you know, it actually rang! The words ‘private number’ made my heart race a little bit, and I recognised the voice of the lady from the booking department straight away, as I’ve rung up about three times during this almost six month wait. She said she had two dates available – the first was a very last minute 3rd October! Monday! I said I would love to have that one but it’s not really fair to my work colleague, to drop everything at such short notice, and so I’ve got 26th October. I’VE GOT A DATE!!! AT LAST!!! It arrived in writing this morning 🙂
I’m feeling motivated to improve my health before surgery. This time I have a huge advantage in that I’m not ill like I was last time, prior to the operation. I’m well, and I want to do all I can to be ready. I can now see what is hopefully the ‘beginning’ of the process, and it feels a lot more tangible compared to the aimless waiting. There are a few things like yoga and meditation that I’ve been wanting to try, so this will be the incentive I’ve been lacking. I am (but trying not to be) a little bit excited!
Oh yes and it’s day 20 today 🙂