Wednesday, November 17, 2010

i'm just gonna say it

women are MUCH worse drivers than men.

and teenagers.  don't get me started.

we don't need to be: texting, talking on the phone, eating, putting on make-up, or shaving while driving.

take note: suv's and mini vans have pretty BIG blind spots.  that means that while you may not see me, i may very well be there. so LOOK before changing lanes.

when did making a green light take precedence over our safety and the safety of our children?

PAY ATTENTION!

and for the love of all things holy, don't give me that little wave like i let you in after you cut me off so dramatically, i have to slam on my brakes.  it just pisses me off more.

yeah. i said it.

men are better drivers.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

part of the cool kids club

since when did being an anxiety ridden mess become cool?

since when was it "the in thing" to be on meds?

who came up with "xanax o'clock"?

it just kills me that this in the new, hip thing.

first everybody was a drunk.

now everybody is on meds.

especially xanax.

i would like some of you to know what it is like to  be an alcoholic.

i would like to share with you how anxiety ruins your life.

and oooooh we're mixing our meds!

with drinks!

aren't we cool?!

bah.

get over yourselves.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

toots and puddles

All I have to say is:


My little girl pooped in the potty!!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Potty mouth

So, another post about how I may or may not be crazy.

Yes, I already know that I am.

But here is further proof:

Baby girl is a year and a half already.  But she is *only* a year and a half.

And guess what?

We are starting potty training!

I never thought we would start so early, but it seems like she is ready.

About a month or so ago, C lo was running a pretty high fever again, and the dr. couldn't find any reason for it, other than the usual "it's a virus" guess.  It's always a guess.  But then again, it is always a virus, so...*shrug*.....who knows.

Point being, I asked the dr. to run a urinalysis on her because every time she would pee in her diaper, she would grab her crotch and start crying.  I thought that maybe it hurt.  That would be a valid conclusion, based upon how she was acting.  But nope.  No infection.  She was fine.

The fever went away, as it always does

(i blame the molars)

and she continued to cry and grab at herself every time she had to pee.

And then she said THE CUTEST THING EVER.

Yes, I know she is my kid so I am biased.  A bit.

But it was THE CUTEST THING EVER!

She told me "pee pee crying" when she started to go.  It sounds more like "pee pee kay-ing" and she says it in this saaad voice, which just kills me.

PEE PEE KAY-ING!!!

And from there, everything started to fall into place.  Now she tells me when she is peeing, she recognizes when she has to poop, and even tells me AFTER she is all done.  Holy mama jama, do I have a smart kid! <----biased

I now have a little potty trainer that sits in the family room, and have let her run around diaperless here and there, and even got her to sit on the potty, push that little belly in, and grunt grunt grunt!

Nothing yet, but this weekend I am going to go "balls out" and let her run naked as a jaybird.

I know without a doubt that she will catch on superfast, and i'll have a potty trained 1.5 year old.


Right?

Monday, August 16, 2010

how i learned to be a mom

I have a lot of secrets.  Things that I don't tell just anybody.  Things that aren't really that important, but are really THE most important things about me.

Everybody has their story, and this is a little bit of mine:


My parents divorced when I was 7.  I spent the majority of my youth believing that my father was an alcoholic, and that my mother was the one that left him for drinking, cheating, etc.

It turns out that my mother was the screwy one.  But I didn't know that until much, much later.

Finding out as a young adult that my mother was bipolar and also suffering from borderline personality disorder wasn't much of a shock.  It really really explained A LOT.

It helped me to understand ME that much better.  It helped me to put a name to the changing tide of emotions that I felt, the detachment I felt towards people in general, and the problems I had with my own relationships.

Had I know that crazy ran in my family, I would have done some serious soul searching and self-examination in order to understand my motivations in life.

I moved around.  A lot.  I dated abusive guys.  A lot.  I started drinking.  A lot.

At 15 I was already in the downward spiral of self-destruction.

What a way to begin, right?

But once I understood that my life up until that point was anything BUT normal, I began to heal.

I knew that being rejected by my parent wasn't MY fault.

Her hatred and anger towards me wasn't MY fault.

I WAS a good person.  And I wasn't fat or stupid or selfish or a whore or any of the other things that she said I was.

And when I finally realized that?

When that lightbulb went off in my head?

It felt like a weight....a huge weight...was finally lifted off my shoulders.

A weight I didn't even know I had.

Or maybe one that I wouldn't admit was there.

And?

I opened up my heart and I allowed myself to LOVE.

Because before that?  It was shut.  Closed.  100%

First I loved myself.  And then I learned how to love others.

And I thought that my heart had completely opened after I accepted these things about myself.  About my family.  But I was wrong.

And then I had Chloe.  And wow!  My heart nearly burst with the love that I felt for this little girl.  And I finally felt whole.  Perfect.  Complete.

She taught me what love really is.

She taught me how to be the best mother I could possibly be.

And I remember my childhood.

And it makes me want to be THAT MUCH BETTER.

For her.

For me.

Sunday, August 15, 2010

The apple of my eye



I don't know how many times I can say it, or how many different ways, but:

my little girl is growing up.

Last weekend in NY, I had such a hard time being without her.  I was ready to leave Friday afternoon and come home to her little arms and C lo smell.  I missed her presence.  I missed her love.

I knew she was fine without me.  Daddy takes amazing care of her, and they had all kind of fantastic plans for the whole weekend.

But I missed her


My superfriend and roomie, Angel, said we could leave at any time.  She would drive me the 8 hours home if I needed to be with my baby girl.

And for that? (And a million other reasons) I love her.

And so I stayed.

And Chloe was fine.

And I was fine.

And when I got home?  My little girl hugged me SO hard, and made me feel whole again.

But here is the problem.  This little girl is just that.  A little girl.  She isn't a baby.  She is becoming SO independent.  She walks and talks and does her own thing.  I always get compliments that she is so well-adjusted.  I should be thankful, but inside?  I'm just a little sad.

I want her to need me.  I NEED her to need me.

I can't have any more kids....babies...and I need my baby to stay a baby until I'm ready.


I just don't know that I'll ever be ready.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

I don't even gno-me anymore



So..... I bought a garden gnome.
And I love it.

Seriously tho, ever since I saw an episode of King of the Hill where Peggy discovers this underground cult obsessed with garden gnomes, I knew I had to have one.

They are pretty much one of the MOST ridiculous things ever.

I mean. It's a gnome. And he sits in your garden. WTF

I need to find some little friends for him.

I'm thinking my next acquisition is going to be a lawn jockey.




I want to fill my garden with as many kitschy things as I can find.

But there is no way in h e double hockey sticks that I am going to put a deer in my yard.

Not yet at least.

Friday, June 25, 2010

When your skin is convinced you are still 13



I have met so many people

adult people

who complain about having problem skin.

I never really had acne or pimples or blemishes or zits

or whatever you want to call it

until I WAS an adult.

Sucks to be me.

I've made it my life's mission

(when I feel like it)

to find products that really DO help my skin.

I've actually found a couple that I'd like to share, since we pizza faced grown-ups need to stick together.

*no I am NOT being paid for this post*


Basically, you rub this orange smelling, gel like, sandy goop all over your face to exfoliate (yes, you can DEF feel those little grains doing their job), and then you activate the peel with a dollop of clear gel that you massage onto the orange goop already on your face. Once you mix the two gels, they immediately warm up and make your skin feel all smooth and yummy.
Rinse and you are done!
I honestly noticed a big difference in the softness and lack of breakouts the following day. EVEN with moisturizer, which I can never use.

My skin is either an oil slick or the Sahara desert.

For less than 30 bones, how can you go wrong?

My next post will cover the fabulousness that is Lush

With an entire beauty/skincare line made from natural and ONLY natural ingredients, I could easily spend an entire week's (or month's) salary at their store.

Eeeeyumm!

Good luck fighting the good fight

And let me know how these products work out for you!

xoxo

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

things i've learned

1) If you can't afford expensive sheets, buy cheaper ones in "sateen". They feel just as nice! I found a king set for $20 at a discount store and love love Love them!

2) If you don't feel good on the inside, make yourself look good on the outside. It cheers you up psychologically and also makes you feel less sick (if you are under the weather).

3) Never keep a compliment to yourself. No matter who it is, if I see, say, a pair of earrings that I like, I make sure to share my appreciation with the person wearing them.

4) If it isn't worth divorcing over, then it isn't worth arguing over. I learned this little bit of wisdom a LONG time ago, but @mommyneedsmeds put it perectly into those words.

5) Your child will never be this exact age again. Cherish each and every moment, and record those memories!!!

6) Which brings me to the next point: go ahead and splurge on that good camera. All things considered, you probably end up spending more on fast food, coffee, or manicures each year than the price of a nice DSLR. Cut out a few luxuries and BUY THAT CAMERA!

7) Say "I love you" to everyone you love, every time you see or talk to them. It makes you feel good, it makes them feel good, and you never know if/when you might have the chance again.

What other things would you add to this list?

xoxo

Monday, May 10, 2010

diaper dance

I know you have all been eagerly waiting for an update on my awesome bladder and hoo ha (what? You haven't???!)
And here it is:

I thought I was doing better. I got settled into the routine of going to the bathroom at set times in the day (and when my awesome twitter friends @Avalea, @grace134, and @culturalsavage remind me "go pee!")
Then I started having pain. Again. :(
I thought it was where they stitched me up when they removed Ursula (my former uterine frenemy), so I made a same day appt with a new ObGyn.
Long story short, she found an open wound/sore, and cauterized it for me.
Another 3 wks of healing.
Wooo.

But that wasn't the end of it. I've had MORE pain in my lower abdomen, which has gotten increasingly worse over the past week. Fun, right?
The Gyn told me that the pain is coming from my bladder and urethra. Go figure.
It's getting so bad at night that I'm having trouble sleeping. And if you know me at all, you know that I already have terrible problems with insomnia. :(
Luckily I have an appt scheduled with my urologist this Thurs. I'll be getting a cystoscopy done (camera in my bladder) to check for damage from all the catheterization and balloon bursting in my bladder.
Say that 10 times fast.

I'm just tired of these problems.
I'm tired of the fact that I'm now leaking urine at the most random of times.

Yes, I am leaking. I'm hoping (I think) that I just have a bad bladder infection and a round of antibiotics will do the trick.

The sad part? Since I can't even feel my bladder, I don't have any symptoms of an infection (if that is even what it is).

Blargh.

That about sums it up!

On a brighter note, I had a fantastic mother's day with my family. My little girl is walking and talking and growing up soooo fast.
I'm so lucky to be able to spend all day every day with her.

I wouldn't trade that for anything. :)

Xoxo

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Happy Mother's Day



i pic'd these flowers for mother's day









Friday, May 7, 2010

mirror mirror...

I've been reflecting a lot on my anxiety lately. Not for any negative reasons, but because of how many people I encounter in real life, through blogging, or twitter, that have the same issues.
There are so many different kinds of anxiety (as well as reasons for it), that it shouldn't be a surprise at the large number of people that I have found with panic attacks or other anxieties.
It is so nice to talk to other people who have experienced the same problems. You feel less alone in dealing with them, you learn new methods of coping with the triggers, and you feel understood.
This got me thinking.
As you all know, BlogHer '10 is coming up in a few months, and "we" will all be converging in one place.
What better time to get a group of "us" together to meet, discuss our anxieties, or just listen to other people's stories.

I already have a few women interested in getting together for this purpose.

If you are also interested in meeting up over drinks (or elsewhere, depending upon the size of the group), please let me know.
If someone you know might be interested, please link them here.
Also, if anybody wants to contact me privately, feel free to email me at:

tom.the.girl@gmail.com


xoxo

Thursday, May 6, 2010

it's all downhill from here

I remember a time when my anxiety was not managed AT ALL. I remember it, but cannot believe that I was able to function then, let alone live through it, day to day.
I'm sure I have mentioned how at my worst, I was unable to leave my apartment, from fear that people would see/look at me. I couldn't go to any store, bank, or restaurant. I used to drink before attending ANY type of social event. It was the only way I could manage.
But at the peak of my anxiety, I would get panic attacks at the most random of times and places.
During that peak, my best friend and I spent a few months driving around the country, staying with friends, camping out, or sleeping in his car. We were poor, but had a plan to make it to san francisco so he could hop on a plane back to japan, and I would fly back home.
I'll never forget this one afternoon: I was driving, it was about 95 degrees out, and we were almost in St. Louis, where we were going to attend the largest street art fair in the country. The speed limit was somewhere around 70, but all of a sudden, we started to go down a hill and I had to let off the gas. My bff noticed that I was slowing down dramatically, and the people behind us were laying on their horns in irritation.
He asked me what was wrong.
I had but one answer: we're going to die.
I was sure of it. Out of the blue, I had a full blown, paralyzing panic attack, and could do nothing to stop it.
I was about to throw up and pass out at the same time, and knew that once I did, it would be over for us.
My bff talked me into slowing even more and pulling over before things got worse.
And we were fine.
I was fine.
He never mentioned the incident again,
but when I remember the worst of my anxiety, I remember feeling that sense of utter dread and impending doom like it was just yesterday.

And I never want to feel like that again.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Slow it down




she's growing up.

i can almost see the girl she is becoming

and the baby that i'm losing.

slow it down

please

slow it down

Thursday, April 22, 2010


We must talk in every telephone
Get eaten off the web
We must rip out all the epilogues in the books that we have read
And in the face of every criminal
Strapped firmly to a chair
We must stare, we must stare, we must stare

We must take all of the medicines too expensive now to sell
Set fire to the preacher who is promising us hell
And in the ear of every anarchist that sleeps but doesn’t dream
We must sing, we must sing, we must sing



-Conor Oberst "At The Bottom of Everything"

Sunday, April 11, 2010

10 things i love about her



1 the way she says "bup" every time she wants up

2 the deep crease in her knee, and how she giggles when i kiss it

3 the fact that everything is either "dowww" for dog or "duck"

4 the patch of hair in the back of her head. it is the only part that grows

5 the fact that she gives everything hugs

6 her newly acquired skill of puckering her lips for kisses

7 the nights she goes back and forth kissing daddy and me in bed

8 her most perfect and joyful smile. it fixes everything

9 the mornings we spend in bed, just cuddling each other for hours

10 the reason and purpose that she has given my life

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

The Famous Madeline: A Tribute



Maddie, I've never met you....but I love you.


I love your parents, your dog Rigby, and your beautiful little sister Annabel.


I would do anything to ease their pain. To make living without you less painful. Even for just one minute.


I'm sure you already know that you have changed the world.


Your golden curls and infectious smile can be seen all over the internet today.


Your parents set up a non-profit organization in your name so people can help the families of sick babies everywhere.


People are even Marching for Maddie all over the country!


Little girl, you are amazing.


I've never met you, but I love you.


And millions of other people do, too.


Saturday, March 6, 2010

Part Deux: a poem




My eyes close to the sound of red in the rain

Mull, eyes dark: Stave the banished carcass full

The sun sparkles, and sprinkles not the rain

I see before me an incredible pull...

Mardi and Mike and Michael


Conversation with drugged me the day after my surgery:

Bf: It's Fat Tuesday today.

Me: No wonder I'm in an eating mood.



Conversation with bf while he is sleeping and snoring away:

Me: roll over

Bf: I'm not a dog.



Me: roll over

Bf: I just did (he totally didn't but thought maybe he could trick me?)


Me: snoring!!!

Bf: Where's my wallet?

Me: What?

Bf: I can't find my wallet (he says that one all the time)


Me: roll over

Bf: YOU ROLL OVER

Me: ROLL OVER

Bf: down there? (pointing to foot of bed)

Me: *snicker*


Me: *finally puts earplugs in*

(morning)

Bf: you know, you really shouldn't wear earplugs at night. what if an attacker comes to the door?


Hee hee an attacker. Ok totally not funny cuz I had Mike Myers doppelganger lurking around our house and windows the other day. Or is it Michael Myers? Cuz I mean the scary holding the knife one. Not the comedic big grin Wayne's World guy.






He can lurk outside of my door any day.

I have earplugs.


Friday, March 5, 2010

ok this is going to be totally gross


seriously. it is. i don't even know why i am blogging about this. but i guess it's because it is the thing most on my mind these days.

pooping

i've been doing a lot of it.

A LOT

ever since my surgery, i've had to go like 5 times a day. and these aren't easy poops either. they are omg help me my intestines are being ripped to shreds by barbed wire poops.

no fun

it happens before i have to go, and usually stops right after.

the main problem? i have literally had such paralyzing pain from things moving around, that i haven't been able to move. ok, well i probably CAN move, but it hurts so much, i don't want to move. better?

(what? you want truth here? sheesh. it's poop for gosh sakes)

anyways, it hurts so much that i am paralyzed (ha) to the point where i think i might crap my pants. like no joke crap my pants. like: maybe i'll relieve a little bit of pressure oh god oh no what is that warmth ok it's just some air phew!

i've had some prettttyyy close calls, folks. but i'm proud to say that i haven't had an accident yet.

problemo numero dos: i constantly feel like i have an outtie bumhole. i myself have never know these outties to exist, but my friend Ryan assures me that they do occur naturally in the wild.

I think it is kind of gross that he knows this, but who am i to judge? i'm blogging about poop.

i don't really HAVE an outtie down there, but it is SO uncomfortable to sit on anything, anywhere. i have to use a donut. you know, one of those blow up plastic things that pregnant, post-pregnant, or old people use? yeah. cuz they have hemorrhoids? yeah, that one.



well, i don't have hemorrhoids, but it sure as hell feels like it.

(again stretching the truth here cuz i don't know what hemorrhoids feel like, but i'm CERTAIN that this is what they would feel like. but worse)

no, i'm not being dramatic.

hemorrhoids.

so yeah - i get to wait TWO MONTHS to see how things heal and move around down there before we take a gander inside of my bladder, cuz i still have no idea when i need to pee.

the term is "urgency"

i don't have any urgency. i only have urgency to void my bladder (so technical!) when i see my abdomen pooched out.

party trick?

maybe not.

k i either lost my mind or am very tired.


thanks for reading about my poops.



Thursday, March 4, 2010

Something to remember



Education ... has produced a vast population able to read but unable to distinguish what is worth reading.


-G.M. Trevelyan

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

The sickbed isn't so sick anymore =]

Under Pressure

I'm so not in the mood to write tonight....or lately....so I'll just do a quick recap of the past few days:

1) I found out that I lost my job.

2) My catheter was continuously hurting me (think stabby bladder pain) so I googled "how to remove a Foley catheter" and did just that.

3) After anxiously awaiting the urge to pee (to see if I'd have to go to the ER to get a new cath put in), I decided to sit down and try it anyways.

4) I PEED!!!!

5) I did the happy dance.

6) Then I realized that I no longer could feel the urge to pee. At all. Ever.

7) Took the happy dance back.

8) If I am able to be ready by March 9, I can start a new job that I previously interviewed for. I would be lead teacher at a nearby preschool. And I can bring Chloe.

9) I'M REALLY TRYING TO GET BETTER. I'm really nervous I won't be ready.

10) I go to my next urology appt. this Thursday. Until then, I just have to keep going pee on a schedule, or else I have a lot of pain AFTER I go. Weird.

11) I won't even start on the pooping subject. I have never gone so much in a single day, nor have I ever had so much pain in my large intestine before.


But I AM GETTING BETTER!



*** thanks again to my family and friends for helping me through all this nonsense. Keith's parents have been amazing with Chloe, as usual, and have done so much to allow me to rest when I needed it most. thank you so much for always being there. ***

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Thank you for being a friend (Golden Girls)

The ER trip was pretty uneventful. The doctors checked everything that they could (still can't do much testing on my bladder yet) - bloodwork, urinalysis, xrays, ultrasound - and things looked fine. My antibiotics are working properly, and my white blood cell count is normal.

The lovely Chantel kept me company and snuck ice to me when the nurses told me I couldn't have any in case something showed up on my xrays. She made sure I had warm blankets, and even climbed up onto a chair that was less than sturdy in order to fix the crazy tv.

I'm so very glad that she was here. Love you, and I love everybody that made it possible for her to be here. I know for a fact that I wouldn't have gotten through the first week without any of you:



Emmie (@EmmieJ)
Jodee (@Leprakans)
Andrea (@Sweet_Life)
Meghan (@AMomTwoBoys)
Colleen (@Messpotential)
Maura (@moburns67)
Tricia (@irishsamom)
Angelia (@MommyNeedsMeds)

and last but not least, Nik (@nakeva) for being so supportive and holding down the fort while Chantel (@KnowMeLoveMe) was here taking care of me.




Chan (unfortunately) had to get back to her family and life and went home on Monday. Right before she left, I was feeling guilty for keeping the dogs locked up in their crates, so decided to let them outside for a bit. The plan was for me to open the crate doors, and Chan would man the side house door and watch the dogs.

Stupid me.

I let Stella out and she immediately jumped at me and got caught up in my catheter line and pulled it down down down. All Chantel heard was one loud "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
She thought that I had fallen, but no, my cath tube was yanked. Hard.

I decided that if it still hurt later, I would go to the hospital to have it checked.
By Monday night, I noticed that 1) my urine was WAY to red to be ok, and 2) the amount of urine going into my bag was not nearly enough.

So, Tuesday morning, I had to go to Urgicare and have them uncath and recath me. That makes it a grand total of 9 times (i think) in one week. That has to be some kind of record. Right?

The only good thing about having to be re-cathed is that I noticed that it was not nearly as excruciating as the last time(s) that I had it done. That makes me happy, because my urethra/bladder are healing. Thank moonpie.

After I was cathed, tho, the nurse told me that the cath was made of latex, and that I would have to go see my urologist immediately to have it changed.

*sigh*

I put off calling the Dr. today. I just wanted one day to rest. One day at home. No more hospitals. No more catheters.

I think that if I have to go see the urologist tomorrow, I am going to ask her to let me try peeing in between caths. If I can? Well, maybe I can just keep the cath out, and learn how to self-cath if/when I need it.

Who EVER would have thought those words would ever come out of my mouth/fingers?

Self-cath.

Right now though? It's looking pretty pretty pretty.....pretty good.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Update

***** update *****

I woke up this morning in even more pain than usual. Also felt sick and hot, so I took my temp, only to find out that I had a fever of 100.7

This afternoon, my right kidney started to hurt. Now it hurts BADLY and constantly.

I finally called the nurse line to the cleve clinic, and was told the inevitable: go to the ER. And don't wait longer than 4 hours to go. Apparently it is a very bad sign that I have a fever and what feels like a kidney infection while being on antibiotics. 3.5 days of antibiotics.

I so don't want to go. Yesterday was the first day that I got to stay at home. I just want to get a break and relax in my own bed.

At least Chan can go with me to the ER so Keith can stay home with sick baby girl.
Thank goodness she is here. I don't believe in much more than fate or coincidence, but something somewhere worked things out so that she could be here to take care of me, and just in the nick of time.


***** end update *****


Yesterday, I finally got Keith to go down "there" and clean me up and inspect the damage. I have been having an awful amount of pain in my perineum, and I asked him to take a look.
After wiping me with some baby wipes, he took a look. What he found there was shocking, even to me. The area between my vagina and rectum? Is split in half. I have an open wound. It's like an episiotomy that has not been stitched up.

So, I googled the rectocele procedure that the doctors did, and holy hell...I had no idea. Go ahead. Take a look. No wonder I have been too swollen to pee. No wonder I hurt like hell down there. I cannot believe my surgeons never explained what they were going to be doing to me. I was totally unprepared for this.

But still....it doesn't explain the split in my perineum. I'm not quite sure who to ask about this. My surgeons aren't returning my phone calls. Nobody will answer my questions. I don't know if this is something to ask my new urologist about.

I'm just confused.

For now, I will keep the wound clean and put neosporin on it.
My hysterectomy seems to be healing up pretty well. I just have an ungodly amount of pain in my perineum and bladder. I woke up this morning unable to move from the pain.
I hope this goes away before I run out of pain meds.

Getting depressed by this stuff. I'm so glad Keith has been home with me and Chloe is here to give me a million hugs.

Chantel is coming out today to stay with us for a few days. We really need some help around the house, since I'm totally useless right now. Keith also needs help caring for Chloe and I bc she is sick, too. =(

Poor girl. I'm hoping things look up soon. Very soon.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Round 2

Thanks to all of you who have been leaving me comments, sending me your good vibes, wishes, and prayers. It means so much to me to know that I am in all of your thoughts.

So, here is my update for the day.

Today I went to the follow-up appointment with the surgeons who performed the hysterectomy. I was checked in by a nurse, and then put into an exam room. About 15 minutes later, the same nurse came back in and said that she was going to take my catheter out. Neither surgeon came in to see me. They had no idea that I had spent the previous day in the ER of a different hospital. They had no idea that I was suffering from a bladder infection and even more pain. They didn't even bother to ask how I was doing.
I told the nurse that I wanted to speak with the doctor before we did anything. She moved me to a different room, and after some time, the reconstructive surgeon came in to see me. I explained my trip to the ER, my pain, and my concerns about being able to go to the bathroom after the catheter came out. The doctor responded that he wished I hadn't gone to the ER, b/c the ER doctors are not specialists, and they have no idea when it comes to catheters, raised white blood cell counts in urine, and the resulting bladder spasms. I declined to point out that I first called his office to let them know what was going on BEFORE the trip to the ER, but nobody called me back. He said that I did not in fact have an infection. That the pos result was only pos because I had a catheter in me, and that causes infection-like results. To put it mildly, I did not believe him, nor did I like how he was speaking to me. I went to the ER because I was in horrible pain. What else was I supposed to do? The dr said that he was going to check into all the problems and errors made at the hospital, and that he was sorry I had to go through that. My OB was in the room the entire time, and had very little to say. He looked sheepish and uncomfortable. I think he felt bad, but didn't know quite what to say. The other dr. was more of the PR guy, and seemed mostly interested in covering the hospital's ass.
I asked what would happen if the cath was removed and I couldn't pee, and he said that they would reverse cath me first, and make sure I could expel the fluid before they sent me home. I was told that the chance of me not being able to go after that was slim to none, but if it happened, I was to go to the ER again to be cathed. (Like I haven't been cathed enough already).
Fluid was put into my bladder, cath was removed, and I was able to urinate. Success!
I was sent on my merry way with instructions to follow up in 6 weeks.

Keith and I headed directly to the Cleve Clinic for my urology appointment that I was instructed to make during my ER visit on Wednesday.
By the time we got there, checked in, and sat down in the waiting room, I was in terrible pain. Again. And I had to pee. I got up from my wheelchair and walked to the bathroom, where I sat for 10 minutes, trying to pee. And I couldn't. Simply taking the cath out had made me swell up again, and I was unable to pass any urine.

I tried once more in the waiting room, and 3 times after I went back to the exam room. After filling the urologist in on everything that had happened since Monday, we decided the best thing to do would be to teach me how to self-cath so that I wouldn't have to go to the ER every time I couldn't void, and I would be able to keep the cath out of me constantly so my bladder and urethra could heal. By the time the teaching nurse made it to our room to instruct me on self-cathing, I REALLY had to pee. I had to pee so badly, I felt sick from the pain. My earlier pain was magnified by 10, at least.

The nurse decided she would cath me to give me relief, and then teach me how to do it myself. She couldn't even pass the cath into me b/c I was so raw, tender, and swollen. And when she tried, I SCREAMED. I'm NOT a sissy or wimp when it comes to pain, but my reaction was involuntary from the sheer pain that I was feeling. It felt like somebody was stabbing me repeatedly and ripping a knife through my vagina. I lost it. The nurse felt awful and ran to get the doctor to cath me herself. She kept apologizing, saying "you poor thing. They really did some major trauma to you with catheters, didn't they?"
When I stopped hyperventilating, the doctor gave the cath a go, and was able to get it in, although I still sobbed and screamed the whole time. It felt like I was being ripped in half. The nurse and doctor were definitely rattled.
The doctor decided that because of all the damage done to me, I would have to keep the cath in for 2 weeks while I gave my body a chance to heal. Only then would she be able to do the tests necessary to determine the level of damage done to me by the metro nurses.

So, That is where I'm at now. More pain meds. An uncomfortable catheter in me that I have to keep for a few more weeks, minimum. After I heal enough, I have to get a cytoscopy done (camera in bladder) and a bunch of other tests to check the function and repairs necessary to get my urinary system back on track.

Till then, I have to rest, keep the catheter clean, and let my body do its job.

There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza


As you may or may not know, I went in Monday for a hysterectomy and pelvic floor repair, among other things. I was very excited to finally have my year's worth of problems and pain solved. It did not go at all as I had hoped.

This is what happened, give or take a few catheter insertions:

On the way to surgery (i.e. rolling down the hall towards the OR), I was quite chatty with the nurse. She commented in the OR that I must be on some good drugs for being so open and talkative. I stated that I had not yet received anything, and that I was just a talker. The nurses looked to the anesthesiologist in surprise and confusion, as I should have gotten some sedation before being wheeled to the OR. He was embarassed and quickly sputtered "well now she has it" and pushed some painful meds into my iv super fast, which caused my arm to burn.
Shortly after, I got the general anesthesia and was out.

When I woke up 3 hrs later, I had excruciating pain in my bladder. At this point, I was still in the OR, waiting for a room to open in recovery. I felt like I had to pee, but times a million. My bladder was so distended, I was screaming from the pain, begging somebody to help me pee. The new anesthesiologist pushed fentanyl and said that I was cathed, and that my bladder was emptying just fine. I pleaded repeatedly for him or the nurse to help me, but they either ignored me or pushed more fentanyl (which didn't help my bladder) until the fentanyl ran out. After I continued to cry, sob, and beg for relief, the dr got tired of my antics and pushed atavan to "calm me down." My blood pressure dropped to (approx) 70/40 from the shock of the pain I was experiencing.

One hour later, a room in recovery opened up and I was transported.
In recovery, I continued to sob, pleading for help with my bladder. The wonderful nurse there took pity on me, and decided she would check the catheter, thinking maybe the balloon holding it in was in a bad place, hurting me. When she got down to inspect, I heard her exclaim "oh my god!" I asked her what was wrong, and she responded that I didn't want to know. I asked again, and this time she said that she shouldn't even tell me. I told her that I wanted to know, and she informed me that my catheter was in the wrong hole. She later got the story, and told me that the supposed 175 ml of urine I expelled into the bag actually came out of me on the table, and that somebody in OB shoved a cath in me after. Nobody checked to see that it was in the right place, or that I was draining.
My bladder had been filling up the whole time (from iv fluids) and had no way to get out. The nurse re-cathed me and I immediately felt relief from the pressure, but was still in horrible pain from my bladder distention.
This amazing nurse, LeeAnn B., advocated for me, and helped me get pain meds that I needed, such as dilauded and morphine. She also kept an eye on that cath.

I was so upset and in pain at this point, I wanted badly to see my bf, who was waiting for me just a few rooms away. The drs and nurses wouldn't let him come back to see me, since they were trying to figure out this clusterf*ck that had happened to me. Since I was STILL in pain, one resident decided that they must have left packing in me, and proceeded to stick her hand up my vagina (horribly sore from surgery) and root around looking for gauze. She thought she found some, but I'm not certain whether any came out or not. Her answer to my pain was to remove the newly placed urinary catheter, and just let me "go" on my own.
The kind nurse finally got Keith on the phone to talk to me, since I was getting MORE than upset again about not being able to see my family. We spoke for a minute, then they made me hang up.

After about another hour, I was transferred to a room. I once again had horrible pressure and pain in my bladder, and tried to pee on my own. I tried for over 30 minutes, but to no avail. I asked the nurse to straight cath me, and she refused. By now I was desperate for help, since my bladder was overfilled again, and already super sore from the previous distention. I asked for more pain meds, and was refused again. They only gave me at first 1 percocet every two hours, and one "high dose" motrin every alternating hour. This, following major surgery. Amazing. I again asked to be cathed, and was again denied. I was told they didn't want to risk introducing infection. I asked for more pain control, and was again denied. They said that they couldn't give me higher pain meds without keeping me on a monitor, and that the room/floor i was in wasn't equipped for that. I asked to be moved to a new room to be monitored, and was denied.
I complained again about the bladder pain, and was again searched for packing. Finally an angry nurse straight cathed me and drained about 350 ml from my bladder. FTR, my post-prolapse bladder only holds 250-300 ml fluid. I know this from pre-surgical urodynamics testing.

For the next few hours, we did the dance of me asking for more meds, them repeatedly denying me. I was given atavan once again to "calm me down" when I got upset due to my shoddy care.

I hadn't slept all night, and I was in terrible pain. The nurse then came in to let me know I was being discharged. I was surprised (to say the least) because I was still unable to pee on my own. I asked to see my doctor again, and was again denied. I got mad and said that either they were going to page him, or I was going to walk myself up to the OB wing and find him myself to let him know what was going on. They paged him.
In the meantime, I still had to pee and was about to pass out from the pain, so I took it upon myself to go out into the halls to find a dr on rounds, and beg him, crying, to find somebody to help me pee. He looked at me like I was crazy, but he sent somebody. If he hadn't, Keith and I were going to walk out and find another hospital's ER to help me.
When my Dr. came down, he looked very very uncomfortable even talking to me. I think because he finally got wind of everything that had happened up to this point. Previous to this moment, we had an excellent relationship, and I trusted him completely.
He suggested that since I still couldn't pee, that I should be foley cathed, and sent home to let my bladder heal up a bit. Then he left. The nurse joked that she had already cathed me 3 times that morning (ha ha) and inserted the new cath into my bladder. When it was inserted, she blew up the balloon to hold the cath in place, and accidentally overfilled the balloon, popping it in my bladder. It sounded like a gunshot, but coming from inside my body. It was awful. When she tried again, I was in so much pain, Keith had to leave the room because he couldn't handle seeing me like that. It was too upsetting.

And so I was sent home. With a catheter in me, vague instructions on how to empty and change the bag, and some percocet. Keith asked if I needed antibiotics, the nurse replied "well, it isn't written, so I guess not."
We left.


notice the size of the catheter they repeatedly inserted. ouch.




leg bag. no instructions on proper hygiene or care




big overnight collection bag that i have to change myself



Wednesday morning I woke with pain so awful, I didn't want to be awake/alive to deal with it. The pain was all coming from my lower abdomen/bladder/vagina. We immediately went to the cleveland clinic er, where I was treated with amazing care, and was given the news that I had an infection in my bladder. I was given heavy pain meds and a script for Cipro, and told to follow up with my dr on thursday, but also urged to make an appt with cleve clinic urology asap.
It turns out that with all this trauma to my bladder, from the distention to the repeated catheterizations, the inside of my bladder is completely raw, so every time a drop of urine enters the bladder, i am in complete and utter pain.

And I get to stay like this until somebody figures out how to fix it.