2 Year Anniversary

April 18 and 19 was my 2nd year anniversary of my first sexual assaults. I worked. I thought these days would get easier, but also that it was be more difficult than they were. I know that this makes no sense unless you're in it. But for me, this is the only way to describe the past few days.

At work, we had a girl come into the ER in labor. She came in with abdominal pain. After routine tests, it was discovered that she was 1) pregnant and 2) in active labor. After being told this information, she confessed she was raped. According to her well known dates, the baby was calculated to be premature by about a month. So, ER nurses called us and called L&D because NICU would need to go to that delivery and would possibly be taking the infant back to our unit.

I don't know what happened with that baby or with the girl, but I was at that delivery. The baby was born at full term. There was also the father in the room. I'm not saying she was lying, but I'm not able to know what the full story is either. The girls on my unit were angry, saying that she lied because the father was there.

Guys, that could have been me. I knew the father. I likely would have sought out prenatal care and I definitely called my mom. Well, the ER nurse that did my SANE exam made me... but still. I told my mom about the assault the night after it happened. I drove up to Home Town and went with her to dinner where I couldn't hold it in any longer. I told her in an Olive Garden then wept in her car, in her arms for hours. After ex-fiance raped me over a dozen times, I took the Plan B pill. It is against my beliefs but I couldn't be stuck to the evil guy that would continually invade my physical boundaries and my body. Plus, I had taken one after ex-boyfriend assaulted me and I was examined by a SANE nurse.

I wouldn't have allowed them in the room, if I had needed to give birth. I don't know if I would have told them. I don't know if I would have kept the baby. I just don't know.

I pray for the girl's sake and the sake of the baby, that she was lying, so that she doesn't actually have to live through this trauma that I deal with every day and I can't even make an hour of not remembering something that happened to me in the year of 2015. I was abused and battered and raped and in terrible relationships with two separate guys for the entire year of 2015. I hope for her sake that she was fucking lying. If, not, my heart hurts for her. She has no idea the pain that is coming. However, if she lied, I am angry. I am angry that people see this "label" as an easy way out of consequences that may be bestowed upon them by parents that would be pissed that their child got pregnant at the age of 17 and didn't tell them (the parent) about it until the mom was so concerned about her daughter that they went to the ER at 1 a.m. 

Add in to this trying time of my year that the show "13 Reasons Why" is a very popular show and everyone seems to be talking about, discussing, and judging this poor girl and her decisions and her life. I know it's fictional, but it's not far off from my actual life story. I haven't watched the show, I won't. I know the premise of the show and I've read summaries of many of the episodes. It's not far off from how my story could have been.

Regardless of the year or which of my traumas is coming up on anniversary, somehow, my whole life and everything around me has a tendency to constantly remind of whatever it is I went through at this time a few years ago.

Great.

I have started looking for a counselor, don't worry. I'm fixin' to go back. I told my mom, which just ended up freaking her out, but I promised her it was just for a "catch-up". We'll see how it goes.

I went home to Home State a couple weeks ago. My first day back, I was car shopping with my mom when we got a call that her dad was in the hospital. Crap. Normally, it would be stressful enough having grandpa in the hospital for alleged "stroke-like symptoms". However, my mom's mom could be diagnosed with narcissistic personality disorder, as per the DSM-V. She could also be diagnosed with about 97 other personality disorders, and I'm only barely being dramatic. Anyway, she was the one "relaying" the information to my aunt and didn't want to tell my mom because my grandma hates my mom. Yes, she hates her own daughter. Well, after lots of family drama, sneaking into the hospital to visit grandpa when she wasn't there, and spending my whole vacation explaining the adult medical world to my family despite letting them know I "don't do big people". I left my "vacation" exhausted, worried, and frustrated that I spent all my time at a different hospital, taking care of my grandpa (whom I absolutely adore) while trying to dodge my grandma (not to be confused with Mema, whom I work with here in the NICU where I currently reside). I saw my uncles and cousins who don't know who I am because they haven't seen me in 15 years because they are mean and grandma actually likes them and hates me. Grandma then got my number and has begun calling me. *facepalm*

It turns out grandpa was taken to the hospital with stroke-like symptoms and we found cancer in his lungs, liver, and brain. The brain lesions are what was causing his confusion. He had been coughing for a few weeks and began taking Mucinex. He began experiencing R sided numbness and weakness. We thought it was a symptom tied with the confusion, but turns out that extended use of Mucinex can/will cause that. Seeing as he took 5 bottles of Mucinex over the course of a month, it is much more likely the weakness was caused by that.

He is now in the midst of his 10 back-to-back radiation treatments. Following those, he will receive several rounds of chemo and still not have a particularly long time to live because he has small-cell carcinoma. Even if he goes into remission, the cancer will likely come back and with a vengeance.

Despite all of these things, grandpa is so frickin' cute. Even when he was confused, he was happy, pleasant, polite, and worried about his children and grandchildren. Despite being married to a horrible woman who constantly yells at him and berates him, he chooses to be happy and he chooses to stay with her because, as a Catholic, he believes he is doing the right thing by G-d. I so admire this man for staying happy, despite all that has happened to him over the course of his life. He takes things in stride, does what he can for his children, and just tried to by honorable in the eyes of the Good L-rd. Plus, he's so stinkin' cute!!!. Just excited for pudding and to see all 5 of his children in a room for the first time in decades. He has tons of grandkids and several great-grandkids. He worked until last year when he retired at the age of 75 from a job where he was a grounds keeper for a local park system in Home State. He worked hard, outside, for decades. He used to keep 3 jobs at all times to care for his family (granted, grandma did nothing and stole all of his money... but that's beside the point). He's worked hard and suffered his whole life, but he finds joy in getting pudding and juice. I love this man. I am so blessed to have gotten to see him while I was there. I gladly traded my vacation to stay with him while I could.