While I was painting my toenails black while wearing a frilly pink night gown I had to just laugh and think about this time last year.
What a difference a year can make. At this time last year, I was in the hospital recovering from emergency surgery, my phone cut off, and about to lose the house.
I had quit a job I really hated because they were getting ready to fire me anyway for poor performance. I was very tired ans weak all the time and just could not keep up. So I was working a temp job making very little and going under from all the bills backing up. The mortage was three months overdue and the phone had been cut off. I was feeling worse, my heartbeat irregular so I decided to go to the ER to have a doc look at me. Mine you, I was bleeding heavily due to a menstural period that would not stop. I was bleeding constantly for at least a couple of months because I could not afford the birth control pills my doctor had put me on to keep me regulated. I no longer had insurance. I figured if I went to the ER the doctor there would give me a prescription for some more pills.
So there I was in a little room, waiting for the doctor after seeing the nurse, when all of the sudden my room was full of nurses and techs,hooking me up to all kinds of things-like blood, EKGs, and other IVs and machines. That had me alittle nervous. Then the doctor came in and hummed over my chart, looked at me and said he was calling in a specialist. WTF? Now I was more than alittle nervous, bordering on a lot of scared. So about an hour later after I worked my way up to a point, another doctor came in, looked at my chart, and ordered an ultrasound. Uh? So a nice nurse wheeled me down the hall to the ultrasound room. And let me tell you, those things are not fun. The gel is cold, the instruments not much warmer, and it hurt. When that torture was over I was sent back to my little room. A few minutes later the doctor came back and made an announcement that so totally floored me.
"You need to have a hysterectomy tonight or you are going to die."
Talk about going numb with shock. At least for a minute. He explained that they could give me blood, send me home with a prescription. That was only treating the problem, not fixing it. I voted for the surgery, insurance or not. Next I knew I was being wheeled down the hall for preping. I did have time to call and leave a message with my sister to let everyone know where I was so no one, like mom, freaked. Then I was out.
Next I knew I was aware of someone calling my name. I woke up enough to vaguely understand my sister and two of her boys were there. One, Patrick, was on leave from the army, and he left the next day, so I didn't get to see him. And know one came to see me while I was there in the hospital, alone and in pain. I don't think any of my friends knew I was there, my sister's car was in Kentucy where her boyfriend was pulled over for speeding and had to wait for her to send him so money, and my other sis lives out of town and couldn't get off work.
Then I got a call from mom telling me the mortage company was getting ready to forclose and I had to do something. So here I was recoverying from a major surgery trying to stop that. In a round about way because one cannot make 800 calls from the hospital. I finally got a call from the agent and asked them to wait until I got out. Then had to call around and beg money fron relatives to keep my home. Thank God my out of town sister worked for the government and had the money. One crisis taken care of, at least for a while.
A couple of days later I was discharged from the hospital. They really don't like for you to have a long stay, especially if you don't have insurance. But the nurses freaked when I asked them to just wheel me out to my car. No driving for me for at least two weeks. Yeah, right. My sis's car was still in the bluegrass state, so I had no ride home. They got a ride with a "taxi services" that offers rides for free or low income. As soon as I got home, I got me a ride back out to the hospital to get my car. I still had things to take care of such as my last paycheck from the temp service to pay my phone bill, a trip to Wal-mart for my prescriptions and groceries, and a call to the mortage company. I was in very bad pain, afraid I would accidently reopen my surtures, but life does not stop to give you time to heal.
It was a horrible end to the year. Christmas sucked. From the first of October 2007-April 2008 things have been rough.
But, here is is, a year later, and things are looking better, somewhat. I have a good job I like most days, making more on the hour than the one I quit, I still have the house, and I feel better than I have in a long time. I'm looking forward to opening a store on Etsy.com of my artwork and am looking to publish my poetry. Life is better.
All I need to make it better is a good man to share it all with.