Life's not fair

I'm definitely in a funk. I feel very unreasonable, like I just want to pout. I'm not really in the mood to be reasoned with or talked to. Or even agreed with... I'd prefer someone not to talk to me about this at all. I undrerstand that me writing a blog on the subject that I'm in no mood to be talked to about is counterproductive but I don't care. SEE??? THAT'S the mood I'm in. Completely illogical and irrational...

According to my counter I have 2 days and some hours until my next surgery. I feel like at this point in April, I was definitely preparing myself. I was ready to face things head on...I didn't know what to expect, but I felt like I could take on anything that was thrown at me.

Oh, and there was plenty thrown at me! I needed several more hands to catch it all...in fact I wanted to throw some of it back. I won't rehash everything that's transpired since April..if you've read past blogs or kept up with me in any way than you'll know (and if you haven't, feel free to read past blogs!) But somehow, I prevailed. I didn't let any of that stuff get me down and I managed to be semi-normal over these past few months. I started a new job, got my hair done (courtesy of Ms. Barbara..my wonderful hair stylist at Tangles...shameless plug hehe), spent more time in the gym, saw movies, etc etc. I lived! I saw my PS a few times, but that was ok. Instead of rushing in with no makeup, hair in a ponytail, glasses, and too big button down shirts and workout pants with flip flops, with my drains hanging out, I bounced in with my hair done, makeup, and decent clothes. I no longer spent at least 20 minutes a day, looking at my new body in the mirror obsessively. I didn't obsess over every little change with my stubborn right side. When I had first had my expander removed, the doctor told me that it would be extremely hard to the touch...and it was like a brick wall! She told me it would soften up, and once it was softened all of the way up it would be ready to be operated on again. Imagine my shock when I looked down one day and saw it all soft again...I hadn't even noticed! I say all that to say this- I'd gotten back to some sembalance of normal. Even though my wardrobe choices were limited and I can't lay on my side for very long...you can forget laying on my stomach at all. I did make some goofy wardrobe choices...circa a 9 month pregnant Rachel on Friends coming out in a halter top and stubbornly asking everyone "What does it not look ok?"

I think about all of that...how I enjoy my life now and I realize that in 2 measly little days I'll have to START ALL OVER?!? That I'll once again be dependant on the kindess of strangers (Well really Mike and my family), have to deal with not 1, not 2 BUT THREE drains, take at least 30 minutes to take a shower, 5 of which include actually being in the shower the rest is just prep time, not really being able to actually fix my hair so it's thrown to a crap ponytail until my mom feels sorry for me enough to fix it for me, looking like death...and probably smelling like it too because my arm is too tired to lift itself up enough to put on deoderant. Taking my pain meds like clockwork, because the one time I tried to skip a dose I ended up in so much pain I wanted to claw my eyeballs out. Do I sound bitter?

Let me clarify...the recovery from the surgery isn't really that bad. It's no walk in the park, but it beats having cancer and going through chemo..and oh yeah the recovery won't KILL YOU. But this is where I start to whine...I've paid my dues. I've gone through the crap and I shoukl, in a perfect world, be getting readt for my implant exchange surgery so I could happily start this semester of school with new foobs. Instead, I'll barely have my drains out and I'll be thrown back into school. Which means I'll have to deal with fills as well as studying. But then again,  I guess in a perfect world I wouldn't have had to have the %&^* surgery in the first place.

I'm complaining now, but I know my personality. I'll bounce into my PS's office Tuesday to get marked and then bounce in the OR suite Wednesday morning, full of "Yes ma'am"s and "No sirs" and "please" and "Thank you." If they have trouble starting an IV or taking blood I'll apologize profusely like it's my fault that my veins roll. You see, ever since I was little I was taught to be polite to doctors and treat them with respect. You really are a product of your upbringing,,,which is a scary thought. That's a completely different blog topic that I'm not touching right now.

For the next two days, I'll go to the gym, play with my dogs, and play with my niece. I'll try to stock up at the grocery store and try to push my surgery out of my head. Do I dare hope it'll be smooth sailing from here after this operation? That I'll soon be back to bouncing into places and getting fills and before I know it, it'll be time for my exchange?

Only time will tell....