Cut me open baby!

So it's only been 13 months since my hernia repair surgery. I mean, ONLY 13 months of chronic pain that makes my life a living hell. Sure, I've had ups and downs and some treatments have provided relief for a few weeks, but it always comes back.

I had a mini (okay, a major) breakdown/breakthrough this week. I had been tapering down the dosage of pain medication and that was apparently a bad idea, because as I tapered it down the pain went UP. And UP. And UP. To the point that I could hardly walk a few nights ago, and was constantly in tears. I broke down at work to my friend Emily about how miserable I was and how I couldn't keep going on like this. I was so exhausted by putting on the mask of "I'm fine" that I just lost it. The pain was out of control and I just wanted to give up.

So Emily took charge. She dragged me by my ear down to internal medicine and strongarmed the nurses down there into getting me an appointment with my incredible doctor. I mean, she was scaring ME a little bit with her take-charge-ed-ness. Like Moses, she just parted people out of her way and wouldn't take no for an answer.

Anyway, my doc put me back on the higher dose of medication, scheduled a STAT MRI with contrast that DAY, and referred me to a CIVILIAN surgeon. Thank GOD. I just want this shit cut out of me.

There's something like 6% of people who have the same surgery I did that have it RE-done a year later due to chronic pain. It's usually associated with the mesh that is implanted in the body during the initial surgery, it forms massive scar tissue, can trap nerves, form neuromas around permanent suture sites, stuff like that. It only figures the I would be one of those 6% of people. You know, because I don't have anything ELSE going on right now. It's so convenient and everything.

The pain management place I have been going to has been doing just that--managing my PAIN. Or should I say mis-managing it. Point is, they haven't been doing anything to take care of the cause of pain. Basically every time I come in and start questioning them, they say something like, "Well, we could give you another injection" or "let's refill these medications and see how you're doing in a month" or my favorite "we may not GET any better than this". ??????? If I have to learn to LIVE like this, then I don't want any part of it.

So the point is, I'm finally going to get something done about it. I will FIND a surgeon to cut this mesh out of me and repair my abdominal wall the old-fashioned way. This mesh shit works for lots of people and makes the surgery really quick and easy, but I'm sorry, Gore-Tex belongs on boots and jackets, not in my BODY. I mean, when I first went to the pain clinic, my nurse told me, "Oh, yeah, we have TONS of patients who are like you. Those mesh repairs cause a lot of problems." ???????? So where's the common sense there? If so many people have complications, then why are surgeons still using this stuff? Because so many other people DON'T have issues? What's the acceptable morbidity percent for them? Because if X% of MY patients had the chance of having this kind of pain and complications, you can damn sure bet I wouldn't be doing procedures like that anymore. I'd find another way. But that's just me.

Okay, rant over. For now.

By Monday my referral to the surgeon should come through and I'm going to make an appointment ASAP. I want this over and done with. Like yesterday.

I'll keep y'all posted on my continuing adventures. Prayers appreciated! Love you guys!

Forget the Vaseline, how about nail polish?

So, I'm getting paid back for ruining so much of my parents' furniture with nail polish remover. Karma's a bitch.

Maddie decided to try and paint her own toenails the other day while I was taking a nap with Brady. She hauled all of the stuff upstairs to her room that she would need, and proceeded to paint her toes, feet, carpet and nightstand purple and red.

So pretty!

She was so freakin' cute, she looked so proud of herself that she had surprised me by being a big girl and painting her own toes. She really didn't MEAN to spill the polish on the carpet. There is no WAY I could get mad at her. Daddy and I just had a talk with her that next time she wanted to be a princess and paint her nails, she should ask for help first.


This MAY just be the cutest thing she's done. ALL little girls get into Mommy's makeup or nail polish at least once, it's a right of passage. I remember doing that kind of thing when I was a little girl too.

So, I got the honor of spending about 2 hours on my hands and knees with industrial acetone, scrubbing and scrubbing the carpet, trimming some fibers, and praying that it would come out. It did! Carpet looks good as new, it just smells to holy hell in there, so Maddie got a couple of nights sleeping in "Grandma and Grandpa's room" on their bed while her room cleared out. And you know what else I discovered? The Mr. Clean magic eraser takes nail polish off of bedside tables without damaging the paint or finish! Who knew?


I love my kids. I don't care how big of mess they make, these are things I'll never forget. And I don't want to.


BUT, I feel like Mr. Clean could've saved my mom a bunch of headaches if he would have JUST came out with his eraser about 33 years ago. Damn that bald guy.