Catching up

Last week I got george three days early. This happened in the middle of the work week, and I noticed that the dark old blood was back again. Last month was the only month in over a year now that I did not have the dark old blood. So I wonder again, what’s going on inside of me? Is another ovarian cyst growing?
Ugh. I hate guessing. I want a full body scanner to read out exactly what’s going on, dammit!!!

Anyway, I notified the people I nanny for and was asked to please try to come in to work. I medicated with 800mg Ibuprofen and went to work. I did okay on Wednesday, February 11. I went to work again on Thursday, February 12. However, the pelvic pain set in. I was still only spotting the dark stuff at that point. I took 800mg Ibuprofen twice during my shift (every 4 hours). I was so tired I could barely function – this is what the endometriosis does to me. Even bending down to pick up a toy for cleanup time gets me winded and exhausted to no end. Climbing stairs with an 11-month old on my hip made me just want to collapse from weakness.
I told the parents I work for that I would not be any good to come in on Friday, February 13th. Thankfully, the mom had already planned to stay home that day in case I was a day early. Thankfully being three days early still allowed me to work two out of three. Jeez.

Friday I stayed home and that’s when the real bleeding and pain set in. I was bedridden all day. We had plans that night to see Cinematic Titanic – my husband was really looking forward to this because he’s such a huge fan of the people behind the production. They’re the ones who also did Mystery Science Theatre 3000 (MST3K in case you’ve been living under a rock). I didn’t want the pain to get me down so I told my hubby I’d still go with him.

Well, apparently he didn’t know the area we were going to very well, or forgot, or was so blinded by his desire to see this show that he lost sight of the fact that I’d been bedridden all day. I told him while we were still parking that this is a hilly area, and I was not in any shape for climbing hills. He parked the car in a local garage, we got out and BAM I was right – hills. I got very depressed and angry. I told him I wanted to cry. He kept looking upwards and onwards to that destination up the San Francisco hill. So I told him in my weak shakey voice that he could have dropped me off at the entrance. I told him I’m about to cry and that I feel taken advantage of for his own selfish desires.
He hung his head. He asked if I wanted to just turn back now. I defiantly told him NO, that he wasn’t going to put this guilt on me like that. He slouched as we walked. I knew he wanted to see the damned Cinematic Titanic. I knew he’d be bitter if I made him turn around now, a block and a half away from our destination. I took baby steps. He was rushed but tried to slow down for me. I was the bitter one.
I told him to never do this again.
When we got to the theatre, I popped half a Tylenol 3 so I wouldn’t be so high that I’d need to curl up on the floor and sleep.

I did enjoy a few laughs during the show. But the theatre chairs were not made for the big people of the 21st century. I’m 5’5″ tall and weigh 170lbs, so while I’m overweight, I’m not morbidly obese. But I was spilling out of the theatre chair. And the chair back was uncomfortable. And there was an obese man sitting on each side of me, also spilling into my personal space because of the small chairs.
My shoulders and lower back and legs ached from trying to hold still in clenched centered position for over an hour.

I popped the other half the the Tylenol3 when we got out of there. My husband told me to wait in the lobby while he went and fetched the car. I sat on a hard bench. I should have gone back into the establishment and found a nice soft chair to sit on, but I didn’t know if my husband had enough sense to call me when he got to the front door, or just sit there in the car waiting for me.

He dropped me off at home and then went to an all-weekend game convention.

I’m not normally angry and demeaning towards my husband, but man I was really not happy with him that night!!!

I was bedridden Saturday and Sunday as well. A friend was visiting from Seattle, and came over Saturday afternoon to hang with me, even though I wasn’t feeling well. He bought me Indian food for dinner and we rented movies to watch. He ended up staying the night because his plans with other friends fell through. I wasn’t feeling any better on Sunday, and still bleeding like a stuck pig, so I was relieved when my friend was suddenly phoned by his other friends. I mean, I like my friend of course but I just wasn’t well, y’know?

It’s a good thing he didn’t stick around because Sunday afternoon is when the pain got so bad and ramped up so fast that the meds didn’t have time to take effect, that I sobbed for an hour. I started off trying to do the simple yoga I was taught for the pain – the child’s pose or turtle pose as it’s called. Well, that made me scream in pain. I took a second Tylenol 3. I paced the house. I laid on my back with the heating pad. I did my breathing exercises. I kneeled against the bed with the heating pad. I sobbed. I considered calling for an ambulance because there was no one in the house with me and I was scared again. I thought about calling my husband home from the convention.

I knew neither of those options would work, because I knew that the pain would be gone by the time aid arrived. And I was right. Right about the one hour mark, it was all over. The knifing pains up my ass and through my pelvic region ceased. And the meds allowed me to rest and sleep.

I stayed on Tylenol 3 at regular intervals for the rest of the day/night.

I awoke on Monday feeling much better. I still wrestled with moderate low back pain, but the pelvic and anal knifing had stopped and the bleeding had tapered way off. I even got some housework done on Monday.

I got to work on Tuesday and at the end of the day I was given 2.5 weeks notice of my dismissal. The reason given was that the baby is nearly a year old and badly needs socialisation with other children (there are no nearby parks, playgroups or anything for this poor child). I was told they really like having me around but it’s important that she be around other children now that she’s on the cusp of talking and walking. While I understood her points and agreed completely, I couldn’t shake off the flashbacks that started flooding in.

It was October, 2007 and I had just returned to work from absence after another 4 days bedridden. I wasn’t on the job for 2 hours before I was called into HR and fired for my monthly absences.

No matter how much I agree with the family I work for now, part of me wants to cry and part of me feels like a failure and part of me wants to scream ‘discrimination!’ again. It’s the PTSD. And anyway, the family has a rock solid alibi.
The thing is, I wanted out anyway – not because of the family or the child – but because the commute kills me. It’s just that I didn’t get out on my terms is all.
And it kinda sucks that I only got in half a year with them. I was hoping to make it to a year so I could then go to the nanny agencies and be hired (they require a year experience).
We’ll see if I can also count the week I did for a friend and the three months I did for another family. That gives me 9 months at least.

So now I have until my next cycle to see if I can line up another job, much closer to home.
The only reason I’ll be stressed out is if my husband finds some urgency with me getting a job ASAP. Otherwise, I’m going to go at my own pace, dammit.

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