Back in the hospital...major PTSD triggers!

And…I’m in the hospital. And…I currently have more platelets dripping into my veins – which, depending upon your view – look like cloudy pee or cloudy lemonade. And I’m sure that once the new platelets enter my body, they will either wither and die or join the existing platelet union and do nothing or work when they want –but I highly doubt they will “be fruitful and multiply” if you’re picking up what I’m laying down.


Last night I was allowed two doses of ambien and a percocet for my sleeplessness and pain; to which I said, “I accept!” graciously and I slept for five straight hours (which I barely remember) – and then went back to sleep until…well I dunno – I’ve been basically sleeping off and on all day and the clock is about to strike 3pm. I was thinking (okay – it was “suggested”) I eat something – but upon detailed scrutiny of the “room service” menu – there isn’t one thing that sounds good, or even decent – so I dunno how that’ll work out –besides they don’t even have wine suggestions on the menu…hello!

My favorite time of the day is when the docs ask me how I “feel”. It’s funny in that they don’t care…but also in that I’m all sick and cancery looking and they’re all, “how are you ffeeeelllliiinnngggg this morning?” Hello! How do you think I feel? But I’ve been fever free all day today and my platelet count is up to 44 – yay me. So “keep up the good work and that means chemo will resume on Monday.” Again…yay me.

I have to say I’ve come to the conclusion that hair is way over-rated. For real – I mean it’s really high maintenance and think of the time and money you save when you don’t have to do your hair or use mascara or any of that…I could spend a hundred bucks easy on hair spray and mousse and gel….. And summer is coming up – haven’t you ever wanted to shave your head because it gets so hot out? Add to that ‘chemically induced’ menopause hot flashes - and I really think I'm getting the better end of the deal here.

My gramma used to wear a lot of scarves. Every day she wore a silk scarf – mostly to keep the wind from blowing her hair, she would wrap them around her head and tie them under her chin. I have only one of her scarves, a blue one, and I don’t know what happened to the rest. I’ve been wearing it a lot the past week because it reminds me of her and makes me feel closer to her. When I feel like I can’t get through one more minute of this I touch the cool soft blue silk on my head and I think of her and I imagine her here with me , singing to me like she used to when I was a child in the hospital with recurrent kidney problems.

I haven’t spoken to the therapist in over two weeks. I have been vacillating between being terrified and wanting her to save me to being angry at her for continued miscommunications. Cancer sucks…it sucks even more when you feel alone and have a mental disorder from past abuse that screams at you never to trust or depend on anyone to “be there” for you – for you will surely only be deserted again. She sent me an email last night saying she would call me tomorrow to touch base since we haven't spoken or seen each other in a couple of weeks, but I don't know if I'm prepared to talk to her. The whole 'attachment' fear is looming again...

The past week of invasive medical procedures has left me raw and edgy and I imagine I would be headed toward the mental floor after being dismissed from the oncology unit were it not for the continued dosing of Ativan. PTSD triggers lurk around every corner in the hospital and my phobia of being touched and severe physical boundary issues are becoming difficult to manage.

Thank you – to all of you who emailed me, text, called…etc…I’m sorry I haven’t responded. I’ve been overwhelmed, self-absorbed, whacked out on meds, too depressed, afraid to reach out – and more! The lottery of bullshit feelings and emotions of the ‘mental patient’… I’m still feeling all of those things – and I don’t know when (or if) it will get better. Those of you who know me well know I spend way too much time in my head ~ thinking…and when the time comes to talk about what it is I’m thinking about, or how I’m feeling, I’m just too exhausted to talk about it. Some days it’s too much to face – and I know that ultimately, I’m the only one who can “face” this …

Love to all ~ G.