I didn't write anything yesterday. I tried, for probably five minutes, before I gave it up as a bad job. I was on IM for maybe ten minutes before I realized I was so beyond sane as to be inflicting myself on anyone else was irresponsible.
I saw the surgeon yesterday. It was a horrible afternoon. *laugh* I forgot my letter at home, and mom and I got lost... we ended up at the wrong hospital, even though we both should've known better. Because I didn't have my letter, I didn't know where I was going, and because it was a private visit not a clinic one the hospital didn't know where I was going either. They did remember me from three specialists ago though... *laugh* I ended up in three different places looking for this invisible doctor... fortunately, everyone was very kind and helpful. His office is tucked away in a hidden corner, to make it even worse... Mom only found her way there because she sweet talked a nice lady in housekeeping.
There's nothing for it. I'm losing it all. The spot of Crohn's on my transverse colon makes a colostomy impossible. Making a stoma out of the ascending colon is more trouble than it's worth. My fistulas mean that they can't, won't, and see no point in trying to do a resection. So I'm losing everything, ass to ileum. I got the whole workup on potential complications, from the very rare "could potentially damage spleen and need to remove that too" to pretty likely "decreased fertility and scarring causing eternally painful sex".
He gave me a token way out. A temporary loop ostomy, where they leave the large intestine in but disconnect it and give it a couple years and lots of prayers and hope it fixes itself. But it's bullshit, and I know it. It's not going to get better. I haven't had remission my entire life. I'll have all the same pain problems, and all the downsides of the ostomy, so fuck it. The fistulas have been there too long to heal, and I'll be perpetually worried about getting more and not knowing about it. And there's the whole cancer thing... they can't scope me anymore... I'm too impacted... so who knows if I have colon cancer hiding in there as we speak. Better to just be done with it, than tease me.
I lost it. It's not that I wasn't paying attention... I can cry and listen, but it's not like I could hide the crying. He said, he knew it was a hard decision... he could tell by the look on my face. Referring to the tears I have no doubt. I told him, what was hard about it was that it wasn't a decision at all. I have no choice. This is the only way I'll even possibly ever have quality of life back. The Crohn's is getting worse, I'm taking more pain meds, I'm capable of less and less. My nails and hair are shot.. basically, I'm dying. This is killing me. So...
I could cope better with being told I'm going to die, you know.
What I do not need right now is to be told how grateful I should be. I do not need to hear how strong I am. I do not need to hear about how wonderful life is.
I know I should be grateful. I know that really, this is stupid compared with everything else I've survived, and I should get over it.
I just can't.
This is not me failing to enforce my will. This is not me being weak. Sometimes, you make your own reality. Sometimes reality makes you. It's bigger than you, guess what. It can do that if it wants.
I'm going to call my doctor... soonish, when they get back from lunch, and I'm going to ask for a referral to a psych. There are different kinds of strength, and the only one I have left right now is the one that allows me to admit I can't do this on my own. I need valium, and I need paxil, or I am going to kill myself.
I need to not be judged about this, because this admission is the most painful thing I've had to say. I've never felt this completely incapable of controlling myself before. At least not consistently. There have been a few times when I was badly psychotic that I was afraid of myself, but never constantly like this.
I had a nightmare last night of waking up after the surgery and flipping out so badly they transferred me to the psych ward...
I thought I'd come to grips with this. I thought I'd found peace with it. But I was wrong.
I was wrong, and I need help. I need help. |
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