Life after (almost) death ..

Wow, it’s hard to believe it’s been 4 years already, yet at the same time it seems like so long ago.  Life now?  Here’s a glimpse 🙂

I can start with the old cliché of ’10 years ago I never would have pictured’ blah blah blah but hell, right up until just over 4 years ago I would have never pictured life as it is today. I can be honest and say it’s because I never gave much thought to ‘down the road’ or ‘in the future’, in this type of sense.

Today, after the bowel resection and surviving the perforation I can say things are very different.  Not better or worse per say, but different.  I would almost rather admit that it’s because of aging but it’s not. My body is different.  It handles things differently.   So different in fact that every morning I can be heard mumbling to myself ‘who did I piss off in a previous life?’ as my body tries to wake and prepare for a new day.

Don’t get me wrong, the resection was successful and I was saved from imminent death with the perforation so I’m still here .. just not without some ism’s.  Add the kidney thing into this mix and you’ve got this hot mess over here called me.  Don’t misunderstand, I am grateful to be alive, oh so grateful but the struggle is real.

Remembering back is hard because I don’t have many memories. I only have flashes. I remember that morning and enjoying my mom’s presence (she had flown in from NB for a love visit).  I remember the pain starting mid morning but I thought it was part of the resection recovery.  Maybe I twisted the wrong way in my sleep or something but it’s normal.  I remember thinking if I just laid down I would feel better. I had just spent 26 days in the hospital 2 ½ months ago as well as several days just the previous week and I wasn’t feeling any desire to go back, AT ALL.  By the time Les got home from work I couldn’t hide how bad the pain was but still didn’t want to go to the hospital. The doctors were just going to tell me that it was nothing, that I was just healing blah blah blah, but he made me go anyway.  By the time I got to the hospital, I was already septic and had been for a while.  I bet you’re all thinking I’ve learned not to be so stubborn right?  Ya’ that hasn’t happened 😉

Recovery from surgery can be long and difficult enough but recovering from both so close together certainly has its challenges, in my case anyway. The 53 lb weight loss due to the surgeries & their aftermaths was hard to overcome and trying became a full-time job for a while (almost 4 years) but I’ve stabilized now at a happy medium so people can stop asking me how much I weigh.  It’s tiresome .. as are the comments from people who don’t know my story or are just plain ignorant (yes, there have been many)!

Food .. lmao! What relationship?! I love food, it hates me .. period. Along with my already existing food sensitivities & intolerances there are also foods/drinks/medications I can no longer have but because I think I know everything I still sometimes don’t listen. And every single time I try to do what I want and not listen, my body teaches me a lesson by reminding me why I’m not supposed to have these anymore. My body doesn’t accept or tolerate food the same way AT ALL since the resection. Perhaps that’s why my hubby installed a USB charger in the bathroom (my home away from home) LMAO! Normal?  I’m not sure but that’s been life for over 4 years now.   At one time I considered finding a culinary student to create recipes using the very few ingredients I am allowed because I can’t do it. I’m not that creative (or patient or smart … or patient).  I don’t cook for myself, if I did they would starve. I cook for them. This is another area where people should keep their comments to themselves.  If you don’t know me or why food is an issue, shut up. Seriously. Honestly. I mean it.

If it’s a pain day (which is most days in one way or another) it becomes a hard mental day. It can become all encompassing; the frustration and the guilt. The guilt because I survived (all who know me know why) and the frustration rears its ugly head with the total exhaustion of not remembering what a day without some kind of pain feels like. So soo many days of feeling like a failure because I haven’t the energy or capability to get out of bed let alone make a meal or give my kids what they need. Feeling like a burden because I can’t contribute financially. Feeling guilty because I haven’t put my all into the blog or other responsibilities. Feeling childish when I want to throw a tantrum. Feeling selfish when I ask ‘why me?’ (all who know me know it’s someone else’s turn). Feeling shame because I sometimes feel it would have been easier if … … …  Feeling angry because no one understands and then defeated when I have to admit to myself that there is no possible way they can. 

If it’s a good day, then it’s a fantastic day in which I overdo everything almost every time, at which time I must accept my consequences for the following few days. Sometimes these things called good days are few and far between so I want to enjoy every moment. I bet you’re thinking I’ve learned to not overdo things right? Ya’ that hasn’t happened 😉

Good day or bad, the best therapy is dance therapy.   There is nothing better than dancing like no one’s watching so as much as I can, my neighbours can hear the music as they walk by because I am completely rocking out the RV.  Pain day or good day, I always feel better.  

I wasn’t expecting to have less patience than I had before however it appears I have even less time for disrespect and OPBS (other peoples bullshit). Huh, who woulda’ thunk it?! 😉  I want to embrace what I’m still blessed enough to have so that’s what I’m doing.  I bet you’re thinking I’ve learned what’s important in life right?  Ya’, that’s happened 🙂

Life is precious, so join us as we gather in Paamul, Mexico next March (2019) to celebrate 5 years 🙂

Life is now different. Not better or worse per say, but different.  Regardless of how I feel day to day, I am thankful for every new day and anticipate each new crazee adventure we create 

‘Til next time 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Time limit is exhausted. Please reload the CAPTCHA.