Walking Amongst the Working

I'd say by now I'm semi-completely, officially one of the working. It's so real and happening that I feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. I'm really happy about working, more happy than I can even type out here. I had started to feel like moving on was a dream slipping away from me, day by day.

What I'm excruciatingly happy for right this second is that I'm not in excruciating pain. Usually I come home from working my short day at the job (Awesome!) and can hardly walk because the bottom of my feet and hip hurt so much it feels like someone beat them with a cane all day. No exaggeration. I wonder how so much pain can be inflicted by such a benign situation. It's not like I have cords of wood strapped to my back walking 40 miles up hill in bare feet all day but my body doesn't know the difference.

I get home and crawl up the stairs to my room where I turn on my Netflix. I don't move until the next day when I go and do it again except maybe to put on a load of laundry.

That's when to my delight, I discovered the intercom button on my phone. I now call my sons every few minutes to ask for something whether I need it or not. They bring me dinner, glasses of water, I sent one boy to fetch me a brownie and when he came back empty handed because they were out, I sent him up the street for a chocolate bar. I give them instructions on chores to do in the house. Why didn't I know about that button before?

Occasionally I like to throw in a compliment just to keep them on their toes. *Ring ring* "This dinner is really good, thanks.", "Uhhh, your welcome" *CLICK*

Sometimes I ring just to rub it in their faces that I have 2 jobs. Whenever they give me lip as I lay in my bed after the fifteenth intercom call, I say, "Oh yeah, try having 2 jobs you little loafer. Your leukemia cancer survivor, bone marrow transplanted, graft/vs/host riddled, vagina surgeried, medicated up the hoohaa mom is kicking your A.S.S in the J.O.B department. The satisfaction that gives me has just keeps on giving. I could do it all day but after a while they claim 'they didn't hear it ring'.

So today I'm not in excruciating pain. Half that. SOoooo, that would be awful pain if it's half of excruciating? I hope to arrive at regular pain in no time and maybe dare to dream of a mildly painful workday. If only. I'm so glad I have a high pain tolerance. It's been a life saver. That and the intercom button.

Violators

I've renamed my dialators, the "Violators".


If all this cancer shit wasn't enough to deal with, the humiliation is like the cherry on top.

I've named the smallest one on the left, Pinocchio, and the BIG one on the right, Shaft. I'm really not sure that Shaft and I are going to get together EVER. Just so you know, objects in the box are much LARGER than they appear.

Vagina Rising

Oncology Appointment Results

I hate writing lousy things. I start to avoid my blog when I think I may have to write something which I'm not very fond of. I don't mind talking about death or illness or any of that but I do admit hating to write about when I feel bad. I always think there are creative solutions around it. I also believe that talking about our weakness can be a strength. I would rather be hung from my toenails than admit I'm not feeling so hot. That's exactly why I'm going to do it.

I went to my oncologists appointment and told her how much pain I'm in and how it is affecting my life. Rather than looking at me like I was a first class loser, she smiled and started putting the calls in to see if she could get things moving for me, regarding my surgery. She tried not to scare me about the implications of getting an infection and was very helpful. My other option was to go to emergency but then I would have to be dealt with by emergency gynaecologists. She assured me the ER gynaecologists are just as qualified as the ones I've been seeing but I would much rather have my vaginal/cervix surgery done by people who deal with graft/vs/host on a regular basis.


She also told me how I can manage my pain. If I take 2 Tylenol and 2 Advil, it seems to work quite well. I've dealt with many levels of pain and I'm very surprised this works as well as it does in this instance. I was sure I'd need morphine. I hate morphine with a firey passion, just for the record.

On a good note my prediction for my medications was correct...sort of. I'm doing so well every other way that she would have made a significant lowering of my medications. Unfortunately she doesn't want to rock the boat until after I'm healed from my surgery. Graft/vs/host is a temperamental thing and a physical trauma can send me back into problems.

I'm seriously sad about that. I was looking forward to a normal head again by summer. Fuck that nasty prednisone. Also, thanks prednisone for saving my life! It's a love/hate relationship (but mostly hate).

I'm so close to the road to recovery that I can taste it. Maybe that's why I've been binging on donuts and coffee crisps. MMMMMmmmmm.

Veggi Tale

This is the vegetable weekend.



No, I'm not going to eat it. I am it. I may blog or I may not blog. It all depends on how much sleeping my body will allow.

I was going to post this lower photo but who knows where it would have sent your little minds after all my recent vagina posts.



You guys are sick.

Adventure of the Super Vagina

So, I'm still here. I didn't perish from the NEWS FROM HELL even though at times I thought I might. I've been dealing with serious stress pains in my chest and nausea, so, pretty much things are as usual.

Since all of you missed accompanying me to my actual appointment I thought I would share. This time I have pictures, as I know my previous Vagina posts disappointed from the lack of visuals.

All the accompanying photos were taken the day of my Gyno visit but are not quite in order as there was some serious foreshadowing going on.

I arrived relaxed and on time to the giant Gyno Building in Vancouver.



I followed my specific tips for dressing for specialist appointments (ie, any appointments which involve backless gowns). I stripped off the outer layers, donned the famous, and always stylish booties.



I mean, these booties.



I was escorted into the exam room and made myself comfortable.



Everything was ready to go down under



and check out my goodies.



Unfortunately, despite everything, this turned into a bit of an awkward situation.



My dear Vagina was again broadcast on the large GynoVision for our viewing pleasure. Photos were taken and I was shown every follicle in detail and congratulated on the healthy pinkness of my skin. I, quote, "get two thumbs up for healing".



After my quick congratulations, I was told when I wanted to have sex again I would need surgery as the "fantastic" healing I've done had caused a tight ring of scar tissue.

Fuck Me. Or not.

Hmmmmm? So do I get one of those designer vaginas everybody is talking about these days? Will I be the first one on the block to get one? Back up Britney Spears! Just wait until I'm strutting my stuff around town.

Really, there's no reason for me to be such a big baby about this.



It's not like I was using it anyway. The most action I've gotten has been with the gynecologists. They may be trained and all, but they're just not doing it for me.

Huge Vagina

I certainly don't have this problem.

Vagina Update -WARNING- too much information

Well, here I am, peeking out of my hole. Thanks everyone for the kind comments. I'm not sure how to write this as I haven't finished mentally processing my gynecologist's news yet, but I'll try.

I was expecting another routine exam where everything would be fine. I've been having a lot of problems with GVH which you can read about on my side bar <-------- if you need to. My brothers stem cells are attacking me but mostly it's under control. One of the places affected is my Vagina. (Vagina gets capitalized because it's important) I've been experiencing what I can only describe as being scalded "down there". It's been red and hurts like a @!#&! This is a chronic problem but I've been hopeful it will heal and my body will get better overall.

The good news is that it has healed a great deal. The bad news is there is a lot of scar tissue and if I ever want to have sex again, I will need surgery. She wouldn't even insert the "woman probe" (sorry, too upset to deal with proper medical terminology) because she couldn't. She said I literally could not have sex if I tried.

Fuck. This is the worst thing that has happened to me in, forever. Correction, I'm taking this harder than anything in recent memory, including being told I had leukemia.

Fuck.

Bad Blogger

I've been neglectful here in blogland.

In the last week and a half I've had 3 Dr./specialist appointments which I've had to travel for. Things were great until my last appointment a couple of days ago.

I've had some very bad news. The cancer is not back, the news is not life threatening, but life altering. Right now I am processing, mourning, playing angry music, playing sad music, sitting in the quiet, crying, hurting and feeling numb in a rotating order. I'm not sure what to say.

I tend to withdraw and curl up into a self isolated, self protective shell when things are bad.


"fall seven times, stand up eight"

My Vagina is on Steroids.

Sorry, no pictures for this one!

So, it's been a year since my bone marrow transplant. This means that I no longer have my own blood or immune system. I have my brother's. (too weird). I am in remission and things are going well. This does not mean I'm back to normal, unfortunately. I have to take stacks of pills to keep the marrow rejection from consuming my body. I have multiple health problems due to this, but one is more sensitive than the rest.

My vagina is having "issues".

So my vagina is having "issues" and was prescribed a topical steroid cream. Let's think about this concept?

Does this mean I can have a swinging sex life with my vagina having the power of 3? Will there be mood swings, unbridled energy, endurance tests or withdrawl? I imagine those little barbells I've heard about, helping create a Super Vagina. A Super Vagina! On me!

The good things never end around here. Unfortunately my Super Vagina is tired and taking it easy right now. It's not really interested in any extracurricular activities.

I'm pretty sure when it is interested again I will be sending out party invites.

Okay...maybe to only one person.