erika | Of science and the human heart, there's no limit.

I return, bearing gifts for my long silence. It's kind of like a choose your own adventure! Except it's my life. And it's all together too adventure-y for my taste.

If you'd like to hear about the first ER visit that will eventually lead to my gallbladder being taken out tomorrow: IM conversation with lizcommotion about the first ER visit, on Thursday May 2nd:

So I couldn't stand the pain. And when someone who's had unmedicated gallbladder attacks for the past five years decides they can't stand the pain, that's a lot of pain. I complained to Josh about how the pain was referring under my right shoulderblade and it was ridiculously annoying, and then... this happened.

(12:04:26 PM) me: josh ...
(12:04:27 PM) me: omfg
(12:04:30 PM) me: he deserves a medal

(12:04:35 PM) liz: \o/

(12:04:46 PM) me: he argued with me for 2 hours to get me to go, drove here from ottumwa, took me to the ER, waited with me the entire time, kept me sane and pretty calm and even joking despite me being in constant pain and anxiety flares that would make me cry sporadically and he did all of the ER stuff 6 hours past when he would normally be in bed
(12:04:59 PM) me: AND i didn't get any pain relief until about 6 o'clock

(12:05:06 PM) liz: that is awesome of him

(12:05:10 PM) me: so that's 3+ hours of waiting while we were IN the hospital

(12:05:41 PM) liz: that is great; i am glad you two have each other

(12:06:11 PM) me: i ... am flabberghasted he went to so much effort
(12:06:20 PM) me: wait, does that carry a connotation like 'aghast'?
(12:06:24 PM) me: because i just meant shocked

(12:06:32 PM) liz: i think i just got shocked

(12:06:35 PM) me: ok good

(12:06:54 PM) liz: well it is a good sign, amirite?

(12:07:26 PM) me: it's confusing
(12:07:29 PM) me: i mean, yes
(12:07:30 PM) me: it's a good sign
(12:07:35 PM) me: but i'm still fucking confused

(12:07:48 PM) liz: maybe because your family has a history of treating you awfully?
(12:07:52 PM) liz: so it's hard to trust it?

(12:08:38 PM) me: i suppose i just keep expecting it to end
(12:08:43 PM) me: like, when does he get tired of dealing with my shit

(12:08:47 PM) liz: *nods*
(12:09:15 PM) liz: partner sometimes asks me if i'm testing her, when i get angry and such with her
(12:09:50 PM) liz: i sometimes say mean things to try to push her away, just to see if she will go, not because i /want/ her to, but because i have trouble believing i am loveable and worthy of her love
(12:10:06 PM) liz: which is so easy to see outside the situation
(12:10:31 PM) liz: is it kind of like that, or am i just rambling about myself? ;(
(12:10:35 PM) liz: i mean ;)

(12:11:22 PM) me: i'm thinking about it

(12:11:28 PM) liz: *nods* no problem

(12:12:30 PM) me: yes, it's like that
(12:13:14 PM) me: it's not intentionally trying to push him away, i think i do it with the rationale "this is the worst part of me and he has to be prepared for it"... but that's the effect and it's probably a partial motive

(12:14:29 PM) liz: *nodnod* yeah, when it happens with me i keep asking my partner, "are you angry with me?" like somehow I'm hoping she will be. it's as though some small frightened hurt self takes over, and wants to continue to be in charge or something.
(12:16:09 PM) liz: usually happens when i have pms

(12:16:18 PM) me: i keep asking josh if he's angry with me because i'm terrified that he is

(12:16:23 PM) liz: YES

(12:16:25 PM) me: but yeah, it almost does sound like ...
(12:16:35 PM) me: "are you mad now? how about now? how about now?" like intentionally TRYING to make him mad
(12:16:54 PM) me: i don't think that's the point though, because it reeeeeeeally feels like terror

(12:17:12 PM) liz: well if he doesn't get mad then it proves he really really loves you, right?
(12:17:25 PM) liz: and if he does get mad, then you were right to not trust anyone ever

(12:17:31 PM) me: RIGHT

(12:17:33 PM) liz: (this is how my brain works)

(12:18:19 PM) me: no that's EXACTLY RIGHT

(12:18:33 PM) liz: *gently glomps you*

(12:19:09 PM) me: i'm terrified that i was right
(12:19:11 PM) me: but convinced of it
(12:19:18 PM) me: so i keep asking because he's not giving me the 'correct' answer

(12:19:46 PM) liz: right, because it's really hard to believe all the self-love stuff
(12:19:59 PM) liz: and there must be some sort of trick
(12:20:13 PM) liz: like, just getting hurt more later on

(12:20:23 PM) me: EXACTLY

(12:20:34 PM) liz: WHAT THE FUCK OUR BRAINS

(12:20:52 PM) me: seriously that's exactly exactly how i feel

(12:20:58 PM) liz: *nodnodnod*
(12:21:19 PM) liz: i am glad it is not just be, because i feel like a total dickwad when i do it
(12:21:36 PM) liz: which just reinforces that she /should be mad by now/

(12:21:36 PM) me: like ... i want to believe him, but it's WRONG, so i keep asking about it, because it must be some kind of trick, but i want to believe he loves me, but it can't be right, and i'm terrorified (i typed terrofied first haha) that i'm right and he's lying or something

(12:22:10 PM) liz: YES, EXACTLY
(12:23:10 PM) liz: gods, ok, so i am reading this book right now and one of the first sentences is about how "no matter what you do or do not do, you are enough" and i just started bawling when i read that. i was like WHAT SORT OF JUJU IS THIS
(12:23:37 PM) liz: OF COURSE I MUST DO ALL THE THINGS TO BE WORTHY OF LOVE
(12:25:42 PM) liz: so i am reading the book in small doses
(12:25:56 PM) liz: in the hopes it will teach me the magic of loving myself

If you'd like to hear about how I had another ER visit the next week, click here.

So, due to some bad choices in my youth involving migraines and a LOT of the most common NSAIDs (acetaminophen and ibuprofen), I can't take either. Has any doctor ever believed me about this? No. They think I'm a narcotic seeking asshole, despite the fact that on that first visit they loaded me up with Fentanyl [approximately 100 times more potent than morphine!] just so I would stop crying like a baby. (Also, you know, I've been on benzos for almost ten years, and my dosage has actually gone DOWN from its high point, plus I had straight hydromorphone [Dilaudid, approximately 8-10 times more powerful than morphine] after my breast surgery and it's not like I was knocking on their door asking for more once the pain was gone. But anyway.)

But the hydrocodone/acetaminophen [aka Vicodin] combo they originally gave me in the first ER visit, when I took half a pill? Massive migraine. No. No no no. So I called the emergency department back at 3:30 in the morning and asked for ANYTHING ELSE. They gave me tramadol, eventually, after sending the prescription to the wrong pharmacy and generally being idiots about it.

By the way, did the prescribing physician notice that I'm also on an antidepressant and therefore at massively increased risk for seizures and serotonin syndrome? No, no they did not. The pharmacist did, but at that point I'd have been willing to snort coke to get the pain to stop, so a little serotonin syndrome / seizure combo was not going to get me away from possible pain relief.

See, the thing with gallbladder attacks is that you can actually be lucky. I have been, up until now. You can have one, and then not have another one for six months, a year, three months, whatever, no matter what you eat. The stone[s] causing the problems will never go AWAY after you have your first one, but the intense fucking pain will stop, the stomach problems will stop, and your gallbladder is basically ignoring that you're an idiot and need to have it examined. It's a rather nice organ that way, sometimes.

But after that first ER visit, the one with the referred pain? Since then, my gallbladder has consistently been angered by the ingestion of any fat. Sometimes it forgets to be angry until 2am, which is why I'm suddenly online in my fine former tradition of "probably awake in any time zone but the time zone I'm actually expected to be awake for and their three nearest analogues."

So I went back to the ER the next week because the pain was worse than the tramadol could manage, they did some radiology scans to make sure I wasn't dying at that very moment, and then sent me home with hydromorphone and now I can take two pills every four hours as needed for pain, which I am happy with, considering that that means I don't have to be in major pain every goddamn night. Only minor pain.

Sooooo effectively, the fact that my gallbladder is trying to secede from my body by way of causing me so much pain that I cut the damn thing out myself is... why I'm having laproscopic surgery tomorrow to get the goddamn thing out. There's only one stone, I'd prefer to keep my gallbladder, but at this point, it's BETRAYING ME and therefore must be killed with extreme prejudice.

If you would like to hear about how Josh lost his job, suddenly couldn't afford to stay in Middle of Nowhere, and moved in a week later with me & my parents, then got a new job the next day [maybe], read on for the job woes and sudden shifts of fortune!

So, uh. Josh lost his job in Middle of Nowhere for bullshit reasons that probably have a lot more to do with the management wanting to cut jobs ("we're overstaffed" is evidently the first comment that Josh heard him make) than anything he did, especially considering he was fired based on two entirely similar complaints and the first complaint had been ruled invalid.

This was May the 10th. He was getting more and more despondent and finally I (after some drama applying for a loan to see if we could find a place here and then get him a job, they said no because Student Loans screwed something up which I just found out about, ANYWAY) talked to my mother about it and she said her work was hiring. When? Oh, y'know, now, roundabouts.

So Josh loaded up most of his stuff, the clothes and the Aidyn (dog) and his laptop and came here. Lo and behold, he has a start date of this Friday, assuming the background check doesn't reject him for bad credit or something. At this point, I won't be surprised if there's a rain of frogs.

If you'd like to hear about the possible living arrangements (there was an old woman who lived in a shoe...) of Josh, Erika, and their 3 dogs—read on, but prepare to be disappointed.

We don't have any. Besides the fact that we want to live together in a 2+ bdrm house with a fenced backyard so Josh isn't chained to the leash whenever he's not at work... and we both think we need / want to do couple's counselling, it's all entirely up in the air. We can't find a place because we don't have a deposit, we don't have a deposit because my money is basically keeping gas and car together as well as dog and sniffer together. Plus, before this he was living somewhere where he had to spend his minimum wage 40 hr a week job money on, well, all the normal shit, rent, utilities, blah blah.

We managed to get his furniture, etc, up here last Thursday. I never, ever want to move again (and I did practically nothing, but I was exhausted the entire time anyway, just for kicks), but considering that we have to find somewhere to live, there's at least that in our future.

BUT no deposit, no return = no nice house. Eventually my parents (likely my father) is going to get pissed off and demand that we leave and I have no idea what the fuck we'll do then.

If you'd like to hear about the Come to Jesus talk I had with him, read on. And it really was a "Come to Jesus" type moment.

What it boils down to is that we talked about the stuff that was bugging me, which was largely ADHD related and him breaking a promise, and I finally said:

"look, you have to get treatment for your ADHD, because this is what will eventually make me leave you. Believe it or not, I can live with [various ADHD related problems], I can live with most, if not all, of the manifestations of your ADHD. I'm like a pressure cooker—it blows up and then the heat's taken away and it's totally ignored again. But... I cannot live with you hating yourself and feeling like you have a rage monster inside of you."

So then we talked some more, and I clarified that I meant actual engagement with a therapist, and at least one appointment with a psychiatrist. i kinda glossed over the 'not clicking' idea because I didn't want him to pick it up and use it as an excuse, but I said, you know, it doesn't matter WHICH therapist you engage with, you need to develop coping skills around your ADHD (or around the changes if he chooses to take medication) and learn how to deal with the self-hatred and start using self-compassion.

Then he said he doesn't really believe I won't give up on him because he thinks that everyone else has. So ummm, I kinda pulled the "your dead dad never gave up on you" card.
And then he ... really cried. a lot. BUT he admitted that was true, even if he thought his dad would be disappointed in him.

So I said that no, that was ridiculous, his dad loved him and only wanted the best for him. and that his dad, AND me, would only be disappointed if he gave up trying.

I just want him to see that he has control, at least in getting help.

He's legit terrified of therapy/meds, particularly meds because he thinks they'll unleash a giant rage monster, so we talked about that, and a little bit about what progress would look like.

Frankly, I'm not sure what progress and/or success would look like to me. I think I would give it at least six months of therapy with no visible progress before I started wondering what was really going on. For the anger, progress might be less random outbursts of rage, like less road rage, less anger at computer games, stuff like that. That seems like a good indication of his general level of anger.

I do think of it as a two pronged problem, the anger and the ADHD, because I'm not sure if the anger is impulse control related or related to other issues. I do have to say that I'm not really sure what ADHD improvement would look like, but I plan to attend at least the first session with him (i'm pretty sure he wants me to) and maybe a few later so I can give my input on him from an outside perspective and we can both be in on the 'plan', as it were.

If you would like to avoid the 2500+ words above: hi! How are you?