Happy to report my sleeping has really improved last night. We can all deal with things a little better with things when we are rested. I do, however, wake up in the early hours of the morning. Usually, this is when I respond to messages or write to my mom and Jill.
Here's a little letter I just sent them:
Morning. You can see I'm starting to feel better because there were no messages left at 1 in the morning. I think I slept 5 hours, with only getting up once. That's a big improvement. The days are getting better, and that's a relief.
So, last night I had my first pity party. I can cry if I want to, cry if I want to, you would cry too if it happened to you ;).
I did so good for the past 4.5 days! Gosh, I was so prepared for this surgery. I had read all about complications, the pain (it's manageable), the drains, the expanders, why I felt like it was a good choice and even searched for pictures so I could be prepared for what my body was going to look like. I checked the box that told me about all the stuff above and said "yep, I'm cool with all of that."
Fast forward to last night and I got handed a shit sandwich (Richard taught me that one). All this was to help me reduce my risks and my worry. We all took drastic steps to ensure we were going to get it before it got us, and that just didn't happen for me. Or for us. I'm well aware that this is a family issue and not a me issue.
The fact all this is happening and I have to stop my estrogen feels emotionally like I'm being asked to fight with one arm tied behind my back.
I'm sure I will eventually get back in my good head space where I am thankful, where Jesus is my best friend and that I'm just so damn happy that things turned out this way... It just a lot easier to get there when I have the proper tools. You can technically eat a bowl of cereal with a butter knife, but if that's all you have, then you can see how frustrating it is to not have the right tools.
Thanks so much for giving me space last night. I'd be pissed if you dumped that in my lap and ran away. I totally realize it isn't fair for me to say I was upset to three people who love me the most (I told Giz I wanted the same thing) and then tell them to go away. I just wanted to cry and I didn't want an audience for it. I felt better after all that, so it was at least productive. That's why I like blogging, I always get to have the last word :).
Very anxious to get this show on the road. I fucking hate waiting (sorry, Daniel Tiger saying "waiting is hard" just doesn't quite cover how I am feeling). I'm okay if they have to do another surgery to get whatever it is they want to get, I just don't want to wait weeks for that to be scheduled and then have to wait weeks for those results to come back. Up to this point everything was completely in my control. I'm not driving this bus anymore and that blows for a control freak like me.
Switching gears: two weird things about my foobs. 1. Sometimes I feel them like slightly vibrate from the inside. Sort of like when you phone vibrates, but obviously much less aggressive than that. I'm guessing it's the nerves playing tricks on me. It's not painful or anything, just an odd sensation. 2. Parts of my foobs itch. I guesting it's like the inner stitches... So I reach over to scratch the itch and I can feel with my hand that I'm scratching my boob, but my boob can't feel my hand and there isn't really any itch relief. Again, it is not painful, it just an odd sensation.
Loves you girls! Someone brought over a Tippens chocolate silk pie. I might as well get started on that so I don't have it starring me in the face all day taunting me. Or so I can have some before Giz finds it.
**We call Richard "Giz" because several years ago he went through this phase where he wore nothing but argyle sweaters. My sister started calling him R-Gizzle, and over time, it's just been shortened to Giz.**
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