Oh yeah! And...

I forgot to give a brief update on the thing that sent me away in the first place!

My physical health.

So after countless tests, the winner was, wait for it...

Inflammatory Bowel Disease

I'm on fire... on the inside.

Not to be confused with Irritable Bowel Syndrome which is apparently exactly the same except that there is no permanent damage.

Yay! ...not.

Basically, after all that angst and pain, I got a course of antibiotics and told to come back for a yearly colonoscopy.

Great. Thanks a lot body. Seriously.

Adventures in depression. And some other shit...

So I've been away for ages and it's been gut wrenching and sad and blah blah blah. I'm so not going there to relive it. Not all in one go anyway.

Suffice to say I went to the bottom of my own personal hell hole and came out fighting.

Do I feel better? Eh....

Will I write about it? Maybe...

Is it over? I don't know.

It was these two posts from two of my favorite bloggers - Jenny The Bloggess and Allie from Hyperbole and a Half - that made me realize that I REALLY AM NOT ALONE. In that good, fuzzy, deep down inside, I'm-not-the-freak-I-think-I-am way.

I mean, everyone who has had even one depressed day in their life has heard the form response "you're not the only one", from well meaning friends and family. But that has always made me feel worse. It always makes me feel guilty for feeling depressed. Like I can't take ownership of the shitty way I'm feeling because every man and his dog feels bad sometime. Like the people who are trying to help are saying, "Snap out of it, you'll be right, everyone feels like shit occasionally, stop feeling sorry for yourself." and the ever faithful, "Smile, you'll feel better." I know I'm not the only one. I know everyone feels shitty sometimes. That doesn't make my depression any less valid, does it?

And I really, seriously know you are trying to make me feel better, and I really, seriously appreciate you trying but...

Please, please. Stop helping.

You really want to help? Get me a Bourbon/Valium smoothie and let me cry. I don't know why I'm crying, I can't answer that so please don't ask, it only makes me cry more. Stop staring at me helplessly and put on Van Wilder: Party Liaison and laugh with me instead. Then maybe we'll both feel better.

Now I guess this isn't the best "I'm back!" post you've ever read. And I know this post is narcissistic. And I know It's all, "poor me I'm depressed". I guess I went there after all. But you want to know something?

I'm okay with that.

I am back.

I've missed writing. I need it.

Over the next weeks and months I'll try to find me again.

I promise.

Yes I was dead. But I got better. Thanks for asking.

To everyone who has sent me concerned emails or facebook messages these past few weeks. I really appreciate it. Thank you.

I know I haven't been around much, and when I have, my posts have been insipid and meaningless. I'm sorry about that.

I've been trying to get my health under control. I didn't want to come on here sounding like I'm whining again. I wanted to come back and write this wonderful, insightful, hilarious post, and then have everyone come racing back to me, telling me how much you missed me, and that your lives are now complete because of my inspiring words.

However. To be honest, I haven't been great. And I'm not going to sugar-coat it just because some people don't like narcissistic, "poor me" posts. The truth is I'm STILL waiting for a diagnosis as to why I am bleeding and in pain. I had another round of tests last week, another Gastroscopy, another CAT scan, more X-Rays, and, of course, the ever present blood tests. You'd think they'd come up with something more original by now.

I'm exhausted. And I'm pissed.

My arms have been totally massacred, and I look like a junkie.

So. Not. Cool.

See for yourself. This picture is the aftermath of them trying to put in a drip. It's a *bit* blurry, sorry, I took it with my left hand. And I was on drugs. And not even the good ones either.

The drip ended up in my other arm. Witness the beautiful job they did there too.

Oh, and here too.

Moving on...

The general consensus so far seems to be Diverticulitis, a condition that usually affects the elderly. Fan-f**king-tastic. Now I'm getting old before my time. Pretty soon I'll be wearing my pants tucked into my socks and telling Tomika to "turn that bloody music down!" Hang on... I already do that. Shit.

However, to throw another spanner in the works, the Gastroscopy showed three large (I'm talking 1cm each here people!), Gastric ulcers, and lots of polyps in my stomach and intestines. They took a biopsy to check for "the big C" among other things, and, you know, because everyone wants a piece of me, and apparently bleeding me dry like Vampires is no longer enough for them. Now they want my flesh too. Next thing I know they'll have me strapped unconscious to a sacrificial slab cutting me open... Wait... They already did that. I am tossing up whether my doctors are really Voodoo medicine men in disguise, or bloody ghouls. Either way I'm pretty sure I'm a goner.

It's the waiting that's killing me. Not knowing what is wrong. I'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired. I asked the doctors the other day why they didn't just Cryogenically freeze me, and bring me back when they work out what's wrong. I thought that it was a wonderful idea. But they dashed my dreams of being frozen and hung on the wall like Han Solo, by telling me that would defeat the purpose as they needed me to let them know my symptoms so that they can diagnose me. Apparently you can't talk when you're frozen, or so they tell me. Go figure.

Whatever. I reckon they're just sadistic.

Anyway, gotta go. I'm meeting my Gastroenterologist.

I think I'm getting the results of my biopsy... I want to know, and yet some part of me doesn't. Wow, conflicted much?

Wish me luck!

P.S. (Here's a little giggle-worthy pressie for you. These are the undies they made me wear during the procedure, (photo taken before I put them on, promise!), I laughed for at least half an hour.)

Everybody sing, ♪♪I'm too sexy for my undies, too sexy for my undies, so sexy it hurts...♪♪

Call Off The Health Department, She's Going To Live!

 

Tomika has kicked the virus's butt and is back at school. Thank whatever Deity you like, God *1, Buddha *2, Amun-Ra *3... Batman *4; she's okay. All that angst for nothing.

I feel kinda silly about my last post, I was exhausted and emotional, and after reading it again I seriously considered deleting it. But you know what? I won't, because that's me, uncensored. I mean, the BPD aside, I am an emotional person when it comes to my family, especially my daughter, although I'm not usually such a gutter-mouth! So my last post stands, swearing and all. Although I think I'll add a R+ rating warning to it, just to be sure.

Hang on...

Done.

Tomika may be over the worst of it, but I am feeling the pain. I stubbornly fought tooth and nail against it all week, telling myself, like the little engine that could, I will not succumb, I will not succumb, I will not succumb! I couldn't afford to with a sick child to worry about.

However... this morning I woke up with a cough. Just a small cough, a mere tickle. But a cough none-the-less. I have since taken approximately 15 vitamin C tablets, 2 immune defence capsules, 2 shots of cough mixture, a horse-tablet-sized multi-vitamin, and 3 eggs on toast (for good luck). And it's only 11am. Am I over-reacting? You bet I am. I WILL NOT SUCCUMB!

In the spirit of my melodramatic nature, I have shipped Tomika off to her fathers for a week. I am satisfied that she is pretty well over it, and I refuse to have it circle around to her again if it turns out that I am a germ factory. I am determined to fight this bio-warfare independently.

OH! How's this... The Doctor actually had the gall to tell me to, "keep your distance from Tomika, as she will be extremely contagious"... HA! Yeah right! Hello... Doc? Do you actually have children? Y'know the ones, people, only smaller? You try staying away from your own sick child. It's like telling the sun it's not allowed to come up for a week because the stupid Humans can't stay out of it and are dying from skin cancer. A great idea in theory... Not. Gonna. Happen.

So Tomika is at her Dads, I am stubbornly NOT sick, and it's cold as Dante's Ninth Circle of Hell.

Welcome to Winter baby!

__________

*1. God - When I did a Google search on God it came back with about 381,000,000 results in 0.18 seconds. - Holy moly!

*2. Buddha - A Buddha is a person who is completely free from all faults and mental obstructions. - i.e. Me.

*3. Amun-Ra - King of the gods of Egypt. He is believed to be the physical father of all Pharaohs. - (That's a lot of divine sex. I wonder if that's why all the Pharaohs are buried with their pussies? (Yes, I went there.))

*4. Batman - God of six-pack abs and crotch stuffing.

Sick, Sick, Sick!!!

 

I've been sick for the past week or so, sore throat, cough. Today I got worse. I've been in bed all day.

I have dragged my butt out of bed to check emails, and write this in the shameless solicitation of sympathy from my bloggy friends.

And yes I am fully aware that I am pathetic. You have my permission to tell me to "suck it up princess" (as my cousin would say...)

I'm going back to bed now.

Night!

Bletch...