A couple of weeks ago, I went into work 2 hours early to cover for a friend that needed to leave early. While there, there wasn't much going on, so I got to spend some time with some of the day shift labor nurses and one of our doctors. The subject of marriage came up because one of our little day shifters had just gotten set up (that day!) with an IT guy at the hospital because he came up to fix a computer on our unit. We got to talking about how it would be "okay" for this girl to marry the guy by November (her dream wedding month and a mere 7-8 months in the future) because she would have the rest of her life to get to know him. She was concerned with not knowing him well enough before marrying him. I was helping the rest of the pack encourage her in this matter, and I mentioned that she would be "stuck with him" the rest of her life so it would be fine! The doctor, who just so happens to be the one I have the most contention with on the unit, then point blank asked if I was married. I responded that I am not, and he told me that that is the problem with our culture today, we don't see it as getting to be with a particular person. Instead, we see it as being stuck with a person.
Of course, I use words that I don't mean. Usually it is for comedic affect or to diminish the seriousness of the situation. That is was I was doing, but this guy already doesn't like me so he used it as a time to take a bit of a jab at me.
Honestly, I want to begin to not dread things so much. But, for as long as I can remember, I have learned to dread things so that I don't get my hopes up to merely be let down. It's a pattern I can pick out in most of my early memories and it has continued on into my adulthood. I feel like that's part of why I stuck it out with those stupid boys for so long, I was hoping that thing would get better, but I was mostly resigning myself to the fact that if I just stuck it out, I could survive. I didn't get my hopes up about grad school very much, and wasn't as hurt as I could have been when I got rejected. But maybe that kept me from fighting the way I could have for a spot in the program. Who knows?
After exboyfriend, I gave up my hopes that I would have a solid, healthy relationship. I stopped hoping for a good, let alone great, marriage. And I resigned myself to a life alone. After exfiance, I was sure that my life was meant to be carried out alone. Once I started having hope again, along came frickin ex-best friend to break all of my boundaries and I was set back several milestones, again.
With each of these traumatic instances and their fallout, I get farther and farther away from even being able to hope. Along with this, I begin to dread relationships more and more. Now, I not only avoiding hope, I am absolutely terrified of what a relationship would be like, how he will take the news of my story, how life would continue on, if the relationship would continue on. I freeze when I think of what marriage would be like. When I contemplate how my abuse will effect our marriage, our kids, our time together. I wonder if marriage will be unbearable and if I will simply be a thorn in his side because of how I've learned to handle things and the baggage I bring to the marriage. I downright tremble with legitimate fear when I think of what our marriage bed will hold. What horrors I will be pulled back to, the pain I will cause him as my story continues to mar this type of intimacy between us. I wonder if these painful experiences (for both of us) will be things that we will be able to work through, or if I will regress horribly again and it will end up with all of us damaged beyond belief.
To say that I am in a place of dreading relationships is a great understatement to my current season in life.
I desperately want to find excitement when I think of what a relationship would be like. I want to imagine joy and friendship and other good things when I think of marriage. And I wish I could look forward to what a honeymoon and marriage bed inevitably brings.
I wish I could figure out how to love my body better, my whole body and my whole self. Don't think I haven't tried for most of my life. It starts to get better, then goes through extreme rough patches regularly. Now, I have a ridiculously tall, thick, iron-clad wall around my heart. I can feel it. I see it. It's next to tangible. Plus, my mind won't let me associate anything good with sexuality. Not with flirting (which I recently figured out with major help from my sweet counselor), not with dressing cute to where a guy might think I'm cute, and not with kissing or thinking about anything further with a husband. Apparently it's called avoidance... if you want to get technical. For me, however, there's a literal block and unimaginable fear associated with such things. How am I supposed to love my whole self if there are parts of me that I would't touch with a 1000 mile pole? And if I can't love my whole self, how is anyone else supposed to?
One thing I allowed myself to not dread this month/week/year, though, is my birthday. I told a couple of friends at work and they planned a whole little birthday surprise for me. We had sundae's and a cake (even though I wasn't supposed to eat cake because of the Feast of Unleavened Bread). They sang to me, told patients about me, and made me feel special all week. Then, my mom drove from Home Town to College Town (an hour to an hour and a half each way) to personally deliver a bouquet of flowers to my floor. She spruced up a beautiful bouquet of mixed flowers with an extra dozen roses, for a very specific 2 dozen that she was very adamant about. I couldn't figure out why I needed so many roses, until I got a moment to think about it. She got me 2 dozen roses because I turned 24 this year!!! Duh! Thing is, she drove all that way, was super creative by adding roses, and dropped them off without calling me to the front desk because she wanted to surprise me. Then, silly lady, she left before I could give her a hug! She didn't wait or anything!!! I called her as soon as I got out of my patients room and was presented with them from our unit secretary, and I thanked her profusely as tears streamed down my face. I don't believe I've ever felt so special as I did for my birthday this year. I felt so loved at work, my family and extended family all texted me, and a dear friend from work got me a card and went out to dinner with me before work. I allowed my friends and family to celebrate with me and it was a wonderful experience! I feel, still, so cherished.
What that tells me is that I'm learning to slowly start to open up. You know this, I'm sure. I'm the one that is the slow one to realize it. I'm able to share parts of my story instead of avoiding it completely. I'm beginning to find friends and find enjoyment instead of fear when I am with them. And I'm sure, someday, maybe marriage could be something that G-d could use as a source of joy and grace and perhaps even a little enjoyment. I pray G-d heals me in this area. I pray that I am not always so fearful, so terrified of relationships. I hope that someday I can be a success story for the L-rd. But, for right now, I'm in another heavy season, and it'll be awhile before we know how this story ends.
I'll keep you guys in the loop ;)
With love,
BA
Showing posts with label terrified. Show all posts
Showing posts with label terrified. Show all posts
Saturday, April 7, 2018
Saturday, November 18, 2017
Lab Results
So, I went to the doctor... eh, I chose a nurse practitioner in the same group as my doctor because I wasn't quite ready to see my doctor (a dude) and explain my crap to a guy. So, I explained to her, and the student she had with her, a small part of my past, in very gentle wording. Mostly, I only told her that I have a history of trauma. She was so sweet and understanding!
She offered to let me wait for the pap smear, in case that was too triggering, because I told her that I was having flashbacks to my SANE exam. But I went ahead and did it, just to get it all over with, and asked her to talk to me like I'm a student. We had giggles through the exam as she explained it hilariously and was so kind and gentle. Seriously, this woman was absolutely amazing and I was absolutely put at ease and it was very therapeutic.
I also told her I needed to probably get my labs done to see if I got any diseases from the two ding-bats that couldn't keep certain members to themselves. I also asked that my results be put in an envelope and that I NOT be called if they were positive, until I could go to counseling and read over the results.
The whole staff was so understanding about it! I had to call the billing guy, but he was so sweet and easy going about it. I went back the next day, after they were in, and got the envelope and took it straight to my counselor.
I cried the entire way from the doctor's office to my counselor's office... I had been psyching myself up and having "symptoms" all week. I was just sure I was going to have positive results showing that I had diseases.
Well, my counselor saw the envelope in my hand and asked if those were it. I handed it over and she said "okay, let's just get this over with quick!" (She was very kind about it and just wanted me to not fret about it anymore.
So, she read over the results, had to interpret the lab results (because they kept them in medical terms instead of layman's terms (so silly, good thing I'm a nurse!). And she read it, disease by disease to me...
Every thing was negative. *huge sigh of relief*
Then I started crying again and couldn't stop. They were tears of relief, and gratitude, and my stress and lost sleep over the past 2.5 years were all in vain and I am so very grateful. I know that for many who are victims of assault and abuse, that is not the case. It fills me with rage and disgust that certain people go around spreading incurable diseases with little to no remorse and they spread such diseases via force.
Anyway, I digress.
Blessings guys,
BA
She offered to let me wait for the pap smear, in case that was too triggering, because I told her that I was having flashbacks to my SANE exam. But I went ahead and did it, just to get it all over with, and asked her to talk to me like I'm a student. We had giggles through the exam as she explained it hilariously and was so kind and gentle. Seriously, this woman was absolutely amazing and I was absolutely put at ease and it was very therapeutic.
I also told her I needed to probably get my labs done to see if I got any diseases from the two ding-bats that couldn't keep certain members to themselves. I also asked that my results be put in an envelope and that I NOT be called if they were positive, until I could go to counseling and read over the results.
The whole staff was so understanding about it! I had to call the billing guy, but he was so sweet and easy going about it. I went back the next day, after they were in, and got the envelope and took it straight to my counselor.
I cried the entire way from the doctor's office to my counselor's office... I had been psyching myself up and having "symptoms" all week. I was just sure I was going to have positive results showing that I had diseases.
Well, my counselor saw the envelope in my hand and asked if those were it. I handed it over and she said "okay, let's just get this over with quick!" (She was very kind about it and just wanted me to not fret about it anymore.
So, she read over the results, had to interpret the lab results (because they kept them in medical terms instead of layman's terms (so silly, good thing I'm a nurse!). And she read it, disease by disease to me...
Every thing was negative. *huge sigh of relief*
Then I started crying again and couldn't stop. They were tears of relief, and gratitude, and my stress and lost sleep over the past 2.5 years were all in vain and I am so very grateful. I know that for many who are victims of assault and abuse, that is not the case. It fills me with rage and disgust that certain people go around spreading incurable diseases with little to no remorse and they spread such diseases via force.
Anyway, I digress.
Blessings guys,
BA
Thursday, July 6, 2017
Last Days
I resigned from my NICU job here in Small Town and have gotten several offers in College Town. So, it appears as though I'm moving back to that dreadful city. I tried to work closer to my parents so that I could live with them, but they took forever to get back to me, jobs are still pending review. Meanwhile, I have had several decent job offers in College Town and so now I'm looking at houses there.
This is exhausting. I've cried more in the past two weeks than I have my year here. I thought I was sick of this place and that it would be easy to leave, but nobody makes you feel more appreciated than when they know you are for sure leaving. Nurses and practitioners that used to get mad at me for small mistakes in critical situations (that didn't effect the outcome, nor did they really matter they are just their preferences), were all hugging me and telling me that I was a great nurse.
T hat got me thinking that so much of our identity at the hospital is simply being a "good nurse", "good CNA", "good doctor", or "good _________". Fill in the blank with whatever your title is and that's your new identity as a person within those walls. It's a difficult thing to be seen as your job title instead of as you as a person, but I guess that's all they know me as. Many of the night shifters have expressed how much they'll miss me, so that was really nice. I signed off with my parents for the last time and told them to keep in touch on our NICU Facebook page. I've cried, hugged more people than I thought possible, and I was blessed to be able to run into most everyone I wanted to say goodbye to and found the rest on Facebook.
My last week at work was wonderful. I got to do all of my favorite things, say goodbye to mass amounts of people, and my unit threw me a going away party. I felt so special and so loved. G-d orchestrated the night to let me help with breastfeeding, let parents give a bath to a little baby that dad hadn't gotten to help bathe before, I went on a delivery, got to visit with the L&D, postpartum, newborn nursery, and women's center ladies. I also got to snuggle all of my favorite little babies that are on the unit. It's crazy to think of how much I've learned this last year to be able to help teach our newer nurses some of the skills they haven't done yet. I've started to realize how much extra they taught me because I was asking to learn and do more. My charge nurse that let me have that 1:1 baby that ended up dying really took me under her wing and tried to get me as much experience as possible.
I'm going to miss our people, our babies, and this town. I've really enjoyed living here and have just now gotten to the point of having friends (because they are new and actually go do stuff with me). This decision was so difficult and going through with the move is crazy difficult. However, the pro con list is sufficient enough to sway me to try another beginning closer to my family. Mostly, the decision has come down to grandpa just having a few months because he's been doing so poorly, and my grandmother being overbearing. I love her, but I definitely need boundaries and to be allowed to be an independent adult. Now I'm off to learn all the doctors and nurse practitioners at new hospitals. I am looking for a house when I didn't think I would have to move for another year. I am moving back to College Town when I swore I would never do so because of the past I left behind there. I am praying that I don't run into the guys or their families. I am also praying that as I try to incorporate myself into new units, that I am accepted, make friends, and that I'm able to keep up with the 2 part-time jobs that I've chosen so that I can work towards L&D experience, while not losing my NICU skills and the baby snuggles I've come so accustomed to. I was so excited and happy to move down here and it's so difficult to leave.
I pray the L-rd guide me, protect me, and cover me with his grace. This is a scary road, and I hope it gets me closer to the goals I have for myself and ultimately the plans G-d has for me.
On the bright side, I've tried many of the churches there, have my couple of favorites, I know the good and bad areas of town to live in, and have some friends there. It's not going to be completely new and scary. I just need a security system with cameras, a new face and name, and now furniture because I sold all mine! It'll be nice to move somewhere and have a basis of living there, a basis of my job duties and skills, and a slight social circle. I'm terrified of the flashbacks and nightmares that have already started and of running into the guys and their families. Exboyfriend's sister works on the floor that I will be starting to work in the NICU at and that terrifies me. She didn't like me before and she sure as hell won't like me now that I've submitted police reports and sexual assault allegations against her brother. I'm praying she got a new job somewhere else and that I will never see her. I don't know what I would do if I ever did run into her and I'm seriously considering using a nickname while I'm working there. I pray the Good L-rd wipes her memory of me and that I'm just some new person on the floor.
This is exhausting. I've cried more in the past two weeks than I have my year here. I thought I was sick of this place and that it would be easy to leave, but nobody makes you feel more appreciated than when they know you are for sure leaving. Nurses and practitioners that used to get mad at me for small mistakes in critical situations (that didn't effect the outcome, nor did they really matter they are just their preferences), were all hugging me and telling me that I was a great nurse.
T hat got me thinking that so much of our identity at the hospital is simply being a "good nurse", "good CNA", "good doctor", or "good _________". Fill in the blank with whatever your title is and that's your new identity as a person within those walls. It's a difficult thing to be seen as your job title instead of as you as a person, but I guess that's all they know me as. Many of the night shifters have expressed how much they'll miss me, so that was really nice. I signed off with my parents for the last time and told them to keep in touch on our NICU Facebook page. I've cried, hugged more people than I thought possible, and I was blessed to be able to run into most everyone I wanted to say goodbye to and found the rest on Facebook.
My last week at work was wonderful. I got to do all of my favorite things, say goodbye to mass amounts of people, and my unit threw me a going away party. I felt so special and so loved. G-d orchestrated the night to let me help with breastfeeding, let parents give a bath to a little baby that dad hadn't gotten to help bathe before, I went on a delivery, got to visit with the L&D, postpartum, newborn nursery, and women's center ladies. I also got to snuggle all of my favorite little babies that are on the unit. It's crazy to think of how much I've learned this last year to be able to help teach our newer nurses some of the skills they haven't done yet. I've started to realize how much extra they taught me because I was asking to learn and do more. My charge nurse that let me have that 1:1 baby that ended up dying really took me under her wing and tried to get me as much experience as possible.
I'm going to miss our people, our babies, and this town. I've really enjoyed living here and have just now gotten to the point of having friends (because they are new and actually go do stuff with me). This decision was so difficult and going through with the move is crazy difficult. However, the pro con list is sufficient enough to sway me to try another beginning closer to my family. Mostly, the decision has come down to grandpa just having a few months because he's been doing so poorly, and my grandmother being overbearing. I love her, but I definitely need boundaries and to be allowed to be an independent adult. Now I'm off to learn all the doctors and nurse practitioners at new hospitals. I am looking for a house when I didn't think I would have to move for another year. I am moving back to College Town when I swore I would never do so because of the past I left behind there. I am praying that I don't run into the guys or their families. I am also praying that as I try to incorporate myself into new units, that I am accepted, make friends, and that I'm able to keep up with the 2 part-time jobs that I've chosen so that I can work towards L&D experience, while not losing my NICU skills and the baby snuggles I've come so accustomed to. I was so excited and happy to move down here and it's so difficult to leave.
I pray the L-rd guide me, protect me, and cover me with his grace. This is a scary road, and I hope it gets me closer to the goals I have for myself and ultimately the plans G-d has for me.
On the bright side, I've tried many of the churches there, have my couple of favorites, I know the good and bad areas of town to live in, and have some friends there. It's not going to be completely new and scary. I just need a security system with cameras, a new face and name, and now furniture because I sold all mine! It'll be nice to move somewhere and have a basis of living there, a basis of my job duties and skills, and a slight social circle. I'm terrified of the flashbacks and nightmares that have already started and of running into the guys and their families. Exboyfriend's sister works on the floor that I will be starting to work in the NICU at and that terrifies me. She didn't like me before and she sure as hell won't like me now that I've submitted police reports and sexual assault allegations against her brother. I'm praying she got a new job somewhere else and that I will never see her. I don't know what I would do if I ever did run into her and I'm seriously considering using a nickname while I'm working there. I pray the Good L-rd wipes her memory of me and that I'm just some new person on the floor.
Sunday, February 14, 2016
I Ignored the Call
He called me tonight. Exfiance called me. He left texts asking me to call him back but I ignored them all and called my brother and then my mom. It's Valentine's Day for goodness sake! Why can he not just leave me alone?!?
Main point is: I ignored the call.
It was hard. Believe it or not, it was probably one of the hardest things I've had to do so far.
My brother didn't answer right away when I called him, but my mom did. She told me to text exfiance and tell him to stop contacting me. During that conversation, Brother called me and I told Brother everything was fine but that exfiance had tried to call me. He offered to come spend the night at my house to protect me, but that he wouldn't be here for a few hours because he needed to go to the gym before he came over. Well, okay, we'll see. I'm fine right now, but I may end up calling him to have him come over.
The cops are on speed dial and only a click away right now though, just in case exfiance tries to come over tonight. He answered my "don't text me anymore because I'll get a restraining order" text with saying that he "couldn't believe I was being like this and he just wanted to tell me something."
Well, then just fucking say it! Tell me over fucking text without me having to ask a billion and five questions! Leave a fucking voicemail and let me know what this "important" information you have for me is! Besides that, leave me the fuck alone!!! Just STOP!!!!! Let me have a little bit of peace.
He doesn't know I'm going to the cops soon. He doesn't know that my story will be a part of a case and his name will be all over it. He doesn't know that maybe, just maybe, this will be the final straw that finally puts him in prison where he cannot get out for awhile. L-rd, let me get into contact with the other girls so that maybe we an have a solid case against him! Please, oh L-rd, let this prayer be heard and answered with miracles.
I was already struggling today. I spent about an hour on the phone with my mom recalling that this is about the time that exboyfriend started controlling me and talked me into kissing him after about a month of trying to guilt me into it. He had recently told me that he had been talking to me and exroommate's cousin about dating both of us but he liked me better so cut ties with her unexpectedly. Sure, that left him with no major problems, but it filled my life with drama because I had become friends with the cousin and it was my roommate's family that he messed up. He ruined so many relationships for me because of talking to both of us, and leading us both on at the same time. Between him and exroommate's mom, they ruined my life. I had no idea the events that transpired about this time last year would lead to the hardest point in my life.
Who knew I would regret waking up each morning because I met him? Because I met her? Who knew I would wish to have amnesia just so I wouldn't be haunted by the ever-present memory of his actions that night and the next day? Who knew I would wish to have been taken from this world years ago so that I could have been able to die pure instead of so messed up that I'm not even hamburger meat anymore?
Who knew it could even get worse? That it could get so much worse that I start to remember the terrible first relationship as something I would rather be in (with exboyfriend), instead of ever living through the second (with exfiance)?
It makes no sense as to why this is my life. I don't understand why these are my burdens to bear and why I am forced to suffer in this death sentence. Let's be real, none of us are getting out alive. But why is this my path in life? What did I do to deserve this? Would it not be more kind to just put me out of my misery and let me die? Why make me continue on and fight this impossible, never-ending fight for life?
He called tonight. I panicked. Despite the panic, I did not answer. However, my mind will not be quieted tonight. Every sound, every creak, everything I hear will be met with my startle response.
This is part of my burden.
This is a part of my pain.
It will not end.
This is my life from now on.
Main point is: I ignored the call.
It was hard. Believe it or not, it was probably one of the hardest things I've had to do so far.
My brother didn't answer right away when I called him, but my mom did. She told me to text exfiance and tell him to stop contacting me. During that conversation, Brother called me and I told Brother everything was fine but that exfiance had tried to call me. He offered to come spend the night at my house to protect me, but that he wouldn't be here for a few hours because he needed to go to the gym before he came over. Well, okay, we'll see. I'm fine right now, but I may end up calling him to have him come over.
The cops are on speed dial and only a click away right now though, just in case exfiance tries to come over tonight. He answered my "don't text me anymore because I'll get a restraining order" text with saying that he "couldn't believe I was being like this and he just wanted to tell me something."
Well, then just fucking say it! Tell me over fucking text without me having to ask a billion and five questions! Leave a fucking voicemail and let me know what this "important" information you have for me is! Besides that, leave me the fuck alone!!! Just STOP!!!!! Let me have a little bit of peace.
He doesn't know I'm going to the cops soon. He doesn't know that my story will be a part of a case and his name will be all over it. He doesn't know that maybe, just maybe, this will be the final straw that finally puts him in prison where he cannot get out for awhile. L-rd, let me get into contact with the other girls so that maybe we an have a solid case against him! Please, oh L-rd, let this prayer be heard and answered with miracles.
I was already struggling today. I spent about an hour on the phone with my mom recalling that this is about the time that exboyfriend started controlling me and talked me into kissing him after about a month of trying to guilt me into it. He had recently told me that he had been talking to me and exroommate's cousin about dating both of us but he liked me better so cut ties with her unexpectedly. Sure, that left him with no major problems, but it filled my life with drama because I had become friends with the cousin and it was my roommate's family that he messed up. He ruined so many relationships for me because of talking to both of us, and leading us both on at the same time. Between him and exroommate's mom, they ruined my life. I had no idea the events that transpired about this time last year would lead to the hardest point in my life.
Who knew I would regret waking up each morning because I met him? Because I met her? Who knew I would wish to have amnesia just so I wouldn't be haunted by the ever-present memory of his actions that night and the next day? Who knew I would wish to have been taken from this world years ago so that I could have been able to die pure instead of so messed up that I'm not even hamburger meat anymore?
Who knew it could even get worse? That it could get so much worse that I start to remember the terrible first relationship as something I would rather be in (with exboyfriend), instead of ever living through the second (with exfiance)?
It makes no sense as to why this is my life. I don't understand why these are my burdens to bear and why I am forced to suffer in this death sentence. Let's be real, none of us are getting out alive. But why is this my path in life? What did I do to deserve this? Would it not be more kind to just put me out of my misery and let me die? Why make me continue on and fight this impossible, never-ending fight for life?
He called tonight. I panicked. Despite the panic, I did not answer. However, my mind will not be quieted tonight. Every sound, every creak, everything I hear will be met with my startle response.
This is part of my burden.
This is a part of my pain.
It will not end.
This is my life from now on.
Monday, February 1, 2016
Ridiculously Stupid Cycle
Guys, I'm freaking out today. I was doing okay for the first time a couple days ago and now I'm headed back into the sad part of my cycle. I'm freaking out because I'm terrified I have an STD.
I know, I shouldn't be worrying and then refuse to go get tested. Thing is, I didn't want the contact that spreads STDs. It wasn't my choice. I could choose for the guys to have protection. I didn't choose any of it. That makes me angry. If I had a choice in any part of the matter at all, then I wouldn't be in this predicament.
I'm angry because I didn't get a choice. I'm angry because if I do have one, then I feel like my life is over because I don't want a husband to get it, if I have anything, and I damn sure don't want kids to get it. So then marriage and children are out of the picture for me.
That was my nightmare last night. That I had an STD.
I know I should go get tested but I'm terrified that it will be the end of my life and dreams.
I'm hoping I can just get to counseling tomorrow. I look forward to having it twice a week because I'm not doing well going so far out between sessions. I feel better the first few days and then I start sinking again about mid-way through the week once it gets to about Thursday or Friday and then my weekends are shit.
On a positive note, I got a snow day today. I really needed it. I'm just hoping I get to start clinicals tomorrow because it'll be the first day of OB clinicals and I'm on the Mom/Baby floor. Yay!
I know, I shouldn't be worrying and then refuse to go get tested. Thing is, I didn't want the contact that spreads STDs. It wasn't my choice. I could choose for the guys to have protection. I didn't choose any of it. That makes me angry. If I had a choice in any part of the matter at all, then I wouldn't be in this predicament.
I'm angry because I didn't get a choice. I'm angry because if I do have one, then I feel like my life is over because I don't want a husband to get it, if I have anything, and I damn sure don't want kids to get it. So then marriage and children are out of the picture for me.
That was my nightmare last night. That I had an STD.
I know I should go get tested but I'm terrified that it will be the end of my life and dreams.
I'm hoping I can just get to counseling tomorrow. I look forward to having it twice a week because I'm not doing well going so far out between sessions. I feel better the first few days and then I start sinking again about mid-way through the week once it gets to about Thursday or Friday and then my weekends are shit.
On a positive note, I got a snow day today. I really needed it. I'm just hoping I get to start clinicals tomorrow because it'll be the first day of OB clinicals and I'm on the Mom/Baby floor. Yay!
Thursday, February 26, 2015
A Nalgene and a Half Later
I got an ultrasound done today. It was unbeknownst to me that one has to have a full bladder for an ultrasound to be done so I showed up after just having gone to the bathroom. Let's back up the story just a little bit, though.
The day started out at one of the hospitals that I work at for a day of playing hookie in order to attend a cardiac conference. Not a bad day! Especially because I did not have to do a careplan the night before or tonight because my instructor didn't feel like grading them! The conference allowed the clinical day to be cut short allowing me to get to my appointment (at the same hospital) early. Score!
We show up and ask to be taken early. They agree to do it. We wait for what must have been about 30 minutes to be taken back into the room, and that brings a whole set of fun question. Oh, and my nursing school buddy came along with me because she wanted to see what an ultrasound was like. She was the third person I explained my full symptoms to and I was not expecting to tell anyone but my mom and my NP.
So we get into the room and the ultrasound tech asks if I'm sexually active. No. She asks if I've gotten a Pap smear. I explain that my NP wouldn't do it so no. She then informs me that she was going to do an internal ultrasound but decided to do an external one because I am a virgin and have not experienced anything that invasive yet. Great.
Then I am asked to lay down so she can see how full my bladder is. It was teensy! I was instructed to drink as much water as I could so I down another Nalgene bottle (32 oz.) and a half in addition to the half Nalgene I had already consumed since last using the restroom. Keep in mind I have not eaten since 0630 and it's rounding on about 1330-1400. Anyway, my friend and I go back to the waiting room and she's drinking water with me to help me fill up my bladder.
Another 30 minutes and about 15 funny videos later, the tech comes back out to check my status and the ultrasound shows that my bladder is full enough! Yay!
So pants are unbuttoned and pulled down to just low enough to expose where my bladder and uterus are. The tech pours some warm jelly on the exposed area and starts pressing right where she needs to not press because I'm fixin' to lose all the urine in my bladder if she presses too hard. Pretty soon my uterus gets pointed out to me and it turns out I hang to the left, just a little bit. Haha, comedic relief is helping me get through this and I was slap happy because I was so nervous and I laughed for a solid 5 minutes at my own joke.
10 minutes of smooshing around above my full, and still filling bladder, and she started zooming in. Measurements were taken of each ovary and some labeling, no big deal. I noticed that one of my ovaries was black while the other was gray. She then went from traditional 2D ultrasound and switched to 3D. I thought nothing of it at the time, but the more I think about it, the more freaked out I get about that. It looked bigger, to me, and she looked through different levels of it with the 3D ultrasound thing. She didn't do that to the other one.
Being an ultrasound tech, she wasn't allowed to diagnose me or share the findings because she has to wait for the MD to look them over and then call my NP and then I may get the results at some point during the course of what feels like 80138474536947 years from now.
In the meantime, I'm trying to limit my panic attacks but that's not going well. I came straight home and peed, for the 3rd time in 30 minutes, and fell asleep on the couch. I don't know why because I got a solid 9 hours of sleep last night because I didn't have to do a careplan. Then I woke up from my map with a panic attack and a realization that she investigated the black ovary but not the gray one.
Boyfriend doesn't know about the ultrasound yet, I want to tell him so badly but I think it needs to be in person and after I get the results. We talked on the phone last night about a bunch of deep stuff and he asked what I would do if we found out that one of us was infertile. It was completely out of the blue and without knowing my fears of cancer/infertility/other scary things that I am experiencing right now. He told me I could think about it for a few day but I didn't need to. I responded saying that I had wanted to maybe adopt a kid or two anyway so we could just do that. He agreed and we moved on to more tough questions. Even after asking what brought him to ask that, he said it was just a though he had had but it was weird to me because I am actually terrified that may be my reality.
I'm struggling.
If I find out I have cancer or I'm infertile, I think I'm going to break up with Boyfriend. That's not fair to him to be stuck with me through that. We've been going out for a few days shy of a month and there's no reason for him to feel like he has to stay with me just because I am sick (if I'm sick) or through my (possible) infertility.
My heart is heavy, my mind is racing, I think I might explode.
I finally told my roommate about my symptoms. She knew I had gone to the doctor's and that they ran the STD panel, UA, CBC, thyroid test, and the ultrasound. But she asked why the did the ultrasound so I had to explain everything to her. I'm getting better about talking about things that normally make me really uncomfortable. That's likely, largely helped by Boyfriend helping me to discuss stuff I wouldn't mention before. You know, feelings, kissing, sex, marriage, etc. So Roommate knows and I've been freaking out to her a little bit but I hold off a lot because I don't want to bother her or my other nursing school buddy that I told about it with my problems and irrational fears.
I'm going to bed. Pray with me if you think about it.
The day started out at one of the hospitals that I work at for a day of playing hookie in order to attend a cardiac conference. Not a bad day! Especially because I did not have to do a careplan the night before or tonight because my instructor didn't feel like grading them! The conference allowed the clinical day to be cut short allowing me to get to my appointment (at the same hospital) early. Score!
We show up and ask to be taken early. They agree to do it. We wait for what must have been about 30 minutes to be taken back into the room, and that brings a whole set of fun question. Oh, and my nursing school buddy came along with me because she wanted to see what an ultrasound was like. She was the third person I explained my full symptoms to and I was not expecting to tell anyone but my mom and my NP.
So we get into the room and the ultrasound tech asks if I'm sexually active. No. She asks if I've gotten a Pap smear. I explain that my NP wouldn't do it so no. She then informs me that she was going to do an internal ultrasound but decided to do an external one because I am a virgin and have not experienced anything that invasive yet. Great.
Then I am asked to lay down so she can see how full my bladder is. It was teensy! I was instructed to drink as much water as I could so I down another Nalgene bottle (32 oz.) and a half in addition to the half Nalgene I had already consumed since last using the restroom. Keep in mind I have not eaten since 0630 and it's rounding on about 1330-1400. Anyway, my friend and I go back to the waiting room and she's drinking water with me to help me fill up my bladder.
Another 30 minutes and about 15 funny videos later, the tech comes back out to check my status and the ultrasound shows that my bladder is full enough! Yay!
So pants are unbuttoned and pulled down to just low enough to expose where my bladder and uterus are. The tech pours some warm jelly on the exposed area and starts pressing right where she needs to not press because I'm fixin' to lose all the urine in my bladder if she presses too hard. Pretty soon my uterus gets pointed out to me and it turns out I hang to the left, just a little bit. Haha, comedic relief is helping me get through this and I was slap happy because I was so nervous and I laughed for a solid 5 minutes at my own joke.
10 minutes of smooshing around above my full, and still filling bladder, and she started zooming in. Measurements were taken of each ovary and some labeling, no big deal. I noticed that one of my ovaries was black while the other was gray. She then went from traditional 2D ultrasound and switched to 3D. I thought nothing of it at the time, but the more I think about it, the more freaked out I get about that. It looked bigger, to me, and she looked through different levels of it with the 3D ultrasound thing. She didn't do that to the other one.
Being an ultrasound tech, she wasn't allowed to diagnose me or share the findings because she has to wait for the MD to look them over and then call my NP and then I may get the results at some point during the course of what feels like 80138474536947 years from now.
In the meantime, I'm trying to limit my panic attacks but that's not going well. I came straight home and peed, for the 3rd time in 30 minutes, and fell asleep on the couch. I don't know why because I got a solid 9 hours of sleep last night because I didn't have to do a careplan. Then I woke up from my map with a panic attack and a realization that she investigated the black ovary but not the gray one.
Boyfriend doesn't know about the ultrasound yet, I want to tell him so badly but I think it needs to be in person and after I get the results. We talked on the phone last night about a bunch of deep stuff and he asked what I would do if we found out that one of us was infertile. It was completely out of the blue and without knowing my fears of cancer/infertility/other scary things that I am experiencing right now. He told me I could think about it for a few day but I didn't need to. I responded saying that I had wanted to maybe adopt a kid or two anyway so we could just do that. He agreed and we moved on to more tough questions. Even after asking what brought him to ask that, he said it was just a though he had had but it was weird to me because I am actually terrified that may be my reality.
I'm struggling.
If I find out I have cancer or I'm infertile, I think I'm going to break up with Boyfriend. That's not fair to him to be stuck with me through that. We've been going out for a few days shy of a month and there's no reason for him to feel like he has to stay with me just because I am sick (if I'm sick) or through my (possible) infertility.
My heart is heavy, my mind is racing, I think I might explode.
I finally told my roommate about my symptoms. She knew I had gone to the doctor's and that they ran the STD panel, UA, CBC, thyroid test, and the ultrasound. But she asked why the did the ultrasound so I had to explain everything to her. I'm getting better about talking about things that normally make me really uncomfortable. That's likely, largely helped by Boyfriend helping me to discuss stuff I wouldn't mention before. You know, feelings, kissing, sex, marriage, etc. So Roommate knows and I've been freaking out to her a little bit but I hold off a lot because I don't want to bother her or my other nursing school buddy that I told about it with my problems and irrational fears.
I'm going to bed. Pray with me if you think about it.
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