Drama Queen

Am I a drama queen? I never thought I was. Now, I'm beginning to wonder. At what point does keeping my family aware of the difficulties I face post AN surgery become a cry for attention? When does 'I'm having a bad day' sound like whining? How do I ask for help without sounding as if I'm lazy? Why can't others simply offer an arm when I'm having problems walking? Why do I always have to ask?

I've always been so independant. I don't need anybody. I can do it myself. Just leave me alone and let me live my life. The tumor changed all of that. My life will never be the same.

I'm totally dependent on my family for room and board...for the simple necessities in life. I have no idea if I have income from one month to the next. I'm on short-term disability and am approved for benefits every 30 days. I can't go back to work as I have no job to go back to. I was laid off the week before I was diagnosed. My short-term disability is through my former employer because I had surgery prior to my actual termination date. It's all such a big mess. I would love to be working, but I know I can't at this time. I'm a software developer! I have to be able to read and work at the computer for long periods of time. Right now, I can't do either for more than a few minutes at a time. How do I write this blog? A little at a time...I write it in Notepad, save it, and add more later. When it's finished, I copy and paste.

I try to ignore the constant noise in my head, but it's very difficult. Sometimes, it's so loud that I can't hear what others are saying even when they are right next to my good ear. I can't concentrate. I lose my train of thought. The noise is so distracting. I spend most of my time in my room avoiding the rest of the world. Normal noise in the house is too much to bear. It makes me very anxious. Restaurants and other public places with lots of background noise trigger panic attacks.

I am walking better. I've completed almost 3 months of vestibular therapy to help me regain my sense of balance. I no longer have to use a walker. I still wander to the right when there are no 'boundaries' where I'm walking. I need focal points, walls, the edge of sidewalks, etc. to tell me where I'm supposed to be. Otherwise, I may end up quite a ways off my desired path.

I suffer from constant headaches. I eat hydrocodone like candy. I keep thinking I'm going to wean myself off it, but the headaches come back even worse. I have to take it every 3-4 hours or else I suffer horribly. The pressure in my head is terrible at times and 'popping' my ears doesn't help. I try taking pseudophedrine, but it doesn't always help either.

I space out a lot. Where do I go? Who knows. My daughter will notice that I've left. She will make a joke to my grandkids about Grandma being out in space. They all think it's funny. I don't! I have no control over it though. It's as if the world has become so overwhelming that I simply check out. I don't see, hear, or feel anything. It's a survival thing.

I hate talking. Anyone who knew me before surgery will never believe this. I used to be able to talk forever about anything and everything and sometimes nothing. I loved talking on the phone. I love picking people's brains. It's like I'm a sponge trying to soak up the world's knowledge. Now, talking is such a chore. I have to think about every word I want to say and how I need to say it in order for others to understand it. Talking on the phone is horrible. People keep asking me to repeat what I said.

My facial paralysis has caused my lips on the AN side to simply exist. Talking through them is difficult. Saying 'B' or 'P' feels like I'm trying to blow up a balloon. Eating is also difficult. I constantly bite my lips when I try to eat a sandwich, thus I have to manipulate them out of the way before I bite down. I can't suck through a straw on that side, nor can I blow or spit. My food runs out of my mouth. I really should wear a bib.

My left eye won't close completely. The lower lid just hangs there. I have lots of tears in that eye, but they simply run down the lower lid and down my face instead of lubricating my eye. I have another doctor in my life...an opthomologist. I'll have another in a couple of weeks...an eyelid specialist. He's going to evaluate me and keep an eye on me so that my cornea is not injured. I have to put ointment in my eye every hour or two to prevent my cornea from drying out. If I don't and the cornea becomes damaged, the only 'fix' is a corneal transplant. My father had 7 of those...I don't want to do that. If the eyelid specialist thinks my cornea shows signs of deterioration, he will sew my eye closed to protect it. The thought of someone getting anywhere near my eye with a needle is enough to trigger a panic attack. Guess I'll load up on Xanax before I let him attempt that one.

Tomorrow is the 4th of July. Last year, I was in Montana at a friend's wedding. So much has happened in the last year. My trip to Montana seems like it was in another lifetime. None of us have any control over our lives. We simply live them in the best way that we know how. We have to believe that God won't give us any more than we can handle. I know that, but I go along with Mother Teresa when she said she wished God didn't trust her so much.