I've been a busy girl in the house this week. I've been doing lots of those jobs that everyone loves to put off and realistically I'm putting one off right now, but writing on my blog is lots more interesting.
I've been doing some of the nastier jobs around the house. You know the ones: walls, windows, curtains, oven etc. Well to be quite honest, I'm still doing the oven, but all the others, done, done and done.
I've also weed sprayed: and it needs more done. I've potted plants, some of the windows on the outside are washed, as is the porch. I even culled some of the kids toys and put some stuff out to go to the tip/charity. I just need to wax my legs and I'm done (for now).
This work is so thankless and repetitive and needs doing over and over again. I really hate most of it. That's the tricky thing though. Which do I hate the most? The big things that only need to be done occasionally, or the little things that need doing constantly?
Probably a bit of both.....
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Friday, February 17, 2012
DV
Yay, time for that topic! DV, or domestic violence as it's called is a common age old occurence.
I'll be willing to bet that most of us know at least one person whose life has been affected by it, at some stage and some of them will even be men.
I have heard of men that have been physically attacked by their female (or male partners) and at the very least had heavy things such as glass bowls, ashtrays and vases thrown at them. I never really thought about it when I was young, but it must be hard not hitting back...and so many don't. I hope at least one person has a think about the advantage they're taking when they do that sort of thing. I once gave my husband a paper cut on his face flinging a piece of paper about. He's never let me forget it.
Anyway, the person I had miss 24 and mister 21 with was one such man. If I hadn't been such a mess myself, I maybe would've clued in earlier. I once asked him early on in our relationship whether he thought men were better than women. He answered yes. Clue!!!! Nevertheless, I fell pregnant to him. The violence didn't start overnight like it does with some (one older woman I knew said her husband beat her up on their honeymoon), but worked up to it. It started with yelling (which really stressed out one of our friends, whose mother subsequently got set alight and killed by her violent long term partner), worked its way up to shoving each other and resulted in me getting punched, choked and generally put down. I'm ashamed to say that we did it in front of our daughter. It went for (only) a year before I got out. I won't go into detail, but suffice to say, I'm glad I did, it took long enough to come to terms with it as it was.
Things I learned:
* Anyone who "pulls a punch" (makes sure that they don't hit you as hard as they could), is in control of it.
* Drunkeness is an excuse, usually they'll end up doing it sober.
* A man can quite safely punch his female partner in public (it happened to me).
* A lot of people express disgust, but are loathe to intefere.
* Men that hit women are quite often to scared to hit other men (my ex, of course was an exception, he would've taken on man, woman or beast).
* Staying in a violent relationship for kids is the worst reason. Just supposing nothing too serious happens, the kids end up hating both parents, one for doing it , the other for putting up with it, I met a woman who felt this very way during that particular year.
Needless to say, I was very wary after I left. I didn't answer the constantly ringing phone, or venture outside by myself for some time. It was safer. When he did bother seeing his kids, I dropped them off at his parents or sister's house. His family were very helpful, fortunately and never gave out my address etc and so I was free to start again.
The biggest and best thing I think I did was thinking about the type of relationship I wanted and what sort of partner I wanted. I made a vow to myself to accept invitations from men I would never have dated before. I realised that I needed to change the type of man I liked, otherwise I ran the risk of repeating that mistake, like so many have before and after me. Fortunately it worked. I've been with G for 20 years, married 15 of them and have never been afraid of him once. Better be more careful with that paper.
I'll be willing to bet that most of us know at least one person whose life has been affected by it, at some stage and some of them will even be men.
I have heard of men that have been physically attacked by their female (or male partners) and at the very least had heavy things such as glass bowls, ashtrays and vases thrown at them. I never really thought about it when I was young, but it must be hard not hitting back...and so many don't. I hope at least one person has a think about the advantage they're taking when they do that sort of thing. I once gave my husband a paper cut on his face flinging a piece of paper about. He's never let me forget it.
Anyway, the person I had miss 24 and mister 21 with was one such man. If I hadn't been such a mess myself, I maybe would've clued in earlier. I once asked him early on in our relationship whether he thought men were better than women. He answered yes. Clue!!!! Nevertheless, I fell pregnant to him. The violence didn't start overnight like it does with some (one older woman I knew said her husband beat her up on their honeymoon), but worked up to it. It started with yelling (which really stressed out one of our friends, whose mother subsequently got set alight and killed by her violent long term partner), worked its way up to shoving each other and resulted in me getting punched, choked and generally put down. I'm ashamed to say that we did it in front of our daughter. It went for (only) a year before I got out. I won't go into detail, but suffice to say, I'm glad I did, it took long enough to come to terms with it as it was.
Things I learned:
* Anyone who "pulls a punch" (makes sure that they don't hit you as hard as they could), is in control of it.
* Drunkeness is an excuse, usually they'll end up doing it sober.
* A man can quite safely punch his female partner in public (it happened to me).
* A lot of people express disgust, but are loathe to intefere.
* Men that hit women are quite often to scared to hit other men (my ex, of course was an exception, he would've taken on man, woman or beast).
* Staying in a violent relationship for kids is the worst reason. Just supposing nothing too serious happens, the kids end up hating both parents, one for doing it , the other for putting up with it, I met a woman who felt this very way during that particular year.
Needless to say, I was very wary after I left. I didn't answer the constantly ringing phone, or venture outside by myself for some time. It was safer. When he did bother seeing his kids, I dropped them off at his parents or sister's house. His family were very helpful, fortunately and never gave out my address etc and so I was free to start again.
The biggest and best thing I think I did was thinking about the type of relationship I wanted and what sort of partner I wanted. I made a vow to myself to accept invitations from men I would never have dated before. I realised that I needed to change the type of man I liked, otherwise I ran the risk of repeating that mistake, like so many have before and after me. Fortunately it worked. I've been with G for 20 years, married 15 of them and have never been afraid of him once. Better be more careful with that paper.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Fertility
Time to delve into the murky past again... I've read a lot of "stuff" about birth, abortion and even some brave/foolish woman who breastfed and expressed on Facebook (or at least on a picture posted to Facebook).... and of course when fertility goes wrong. IE; infertility.
I fell pregnant very easily (some may call it accidental) with my first 2 babies, at 19 and 21. This is not uncommon at this age. You're highly fertile. Apparently fertility peaks (in women) in the mid 20s, slowly declines, declines a bit more sharply in the early 30s and rockets downhill after 35. That said, I've looked after a fair few women in their 30s and some in their 40s in maternity. Men, on the other hand, can impregnate a woman well into old age, but their is a gradual decline, but not a cut off, like menopause. Some would argue that there is manopause.....
Infertility hits both sexes, with a percentage being male, female, combination and unexplained. In our case it was unexplained and secondary in my case (as I'd had kids already) and primary for G (as he had no kids). I'm not going to pretend that I know the dramas associated with IVF, but I know how it felt for us.
We got married in early '97 and tried for a baby fairly quickly. I fell pregnant fairly quickly and expected a standard pregnancy like my first 2. At 7 weeks along I started to spot. This continued for a few days, by which time, panic had set in and I'd seen the doctor and had and ultrasound. The ultrasound (a lovely transvaginal one that involved a probe with a glove stuck awkwardly on the end of it and 2 people not 1 in the room) showed a tiny foetus with a still dot that should have been pulsing. So off to theatre for a D & C. While upset, I knew it was common and resolved to try again soon and hopefully it would be ok next time.
Next time, the spotting started again at 7 weeks. Ultrasound showed the embryo alive but ith a large ovarian cyst. I continued to spot and started to bleed while visiting my parents. Off to hospital with another D&C resulting.
The next time, my cycle started to play up. I went from a bog standard 28-30 cycle to a 21 day cycle. I got introduced to a temperature chart, subsequently diagnosed with luteal phase insufficiency and shortly after given a prescription for clomid.
Temperature chart: take oral temp every morning before rising, chart. Temp should rise in second half of month, indicating an egg has been released. Sex should be marked on this and you get to be humiliated by at at your gynaecologists.
Luteal phase deficiency: shortened menstrual cycle, less than 10-14 days with/without ovulation, meaning a fertilized egg may not have enough time to implant before a period.
Clomid: fertility drug, used for luteal deficiencies and anovulation etc. Taken early on in the menstrual cycle. You still use the temperature chart and have a preogesterone test on day 21-23. Side effects include possible multiple release of eggs, pelvic pain/ache and hot flushes. Twins are not uncommon.
I also had a hystero-salpingogram which involves dye being squirted through your reproductive organs to see if there are any blockages.
G didn't escape unscathed, however jerking off into a cup isn't my idea of hardship. He, however made it harder on himself by taking the first sample to the lab without the request slip. The second sample he "got" in a public loo near the lab and someone reached for his ankle under the partition while said collection was in progress. Go figure. I'm still amazed he finished.....
Oh I had a heap of blood tests too, for chromosomes, weird blood groups, diabetes, clotting diseases etc. fun times.
The next time followed the same course, which was becoming depressingly familiar. This time I was being ultrasounded regularly and taking progesterone pessaries, all to no avail. I lost this foetus at home this time. After this we were suitably traumatised and decided to delay trying for a baby for a while.
We came to an agreement that we would wait for a year and start again. We decided how long we would try for and how far we would go (up to 35, stop at IVF). One of my colleagues and I bonded as we were going through the same thing at the same time. She went to IUST (intra uterine wperm transfer)and fell pregnant before I did. Nonetheless, the support from her was very helpful as infertility is one of those things that makes people uncomfortable, so they are quite often rude/inappropriate about it. Surprisingly G found a lot of support from his mainly male work colleagues, which was also very helpful. In that year I concentrated on existing family and career. I started midwifery, despite some saying I was mad, but it actually depersonalized it for me. The midwives I trained with assured me that I would be pregnant when I finished the course and even though I didn't believe them, I was 6 months pregnant with miss 11 when I finished. Her and miss 8 have been an absolute gift. Miss 11 is like a female version of G and miss 8 a mini me.
So while my story isn't the worst it could be, it was still a long 3 years and enough to make me appreciate my fertility and the kids I have.
I fell pregnant very easily (some may call it accidental) with my first 2 babies, at 19 and 21. This is not uncommon at this age. You're highly fertile. Apparently fertility peaks (in women) in the mid 20s, slowly declines, declines a bit more sharply in the early 30s and rockets downhill after 35. That said, I've looked after a fair few women in their 30s and some in their 40s in maternity. Men, on the other hand, can impregnate a woman well into old age, but their is a gradual decline, but not a cut off, like menopause. Some would argue that there is manopause.....
Infertility hits both sexes, with a percentage being male, female, combination and unexplained. In our case it was unexplained and secondary in my case (as I'd had kids already) and primary for G (as he had no kids). I'm not going to pretend that I know the dramas associated with IVF, but I know how it felt for us.
We got married in early '97 and tried for a baby fairly quickly. I fell pregnant fairly quickly and expected a standard pregnancy like my first 2. At 7 weeks along I started to spot. This continued for a few days, by which time, panic had set in and I'd seen the doctor and had and ultrasound. The ultrasound (a lovely transvaginal one that involved a probe with a glove stuck awkwardly on the end of it and 2 people not 1 in the room) showed a tiny foetus with a still dot that should have been pulsing. So off to theatre for a D & C. While upset, I knew it was common and resolved to try again soon and hopefully it would be ok next time.
Next time, the spotting started again at 7 weeks. Ultrasound showed the embryo alive but ith a large ovarian cyst. I continued to spot and started to bleed while visiting my parents. Off to hospital with another D&C resulting.
The next time, my cycle started to play up. I went from a bog standard 28-30 cycle to a 21 day cycle. I got introduced to a temperature chart, subsequently diagnosed with luteal phase insufficiency and shortly after given a prescription for clomid.
Temperature chart: take oral temp every morning before rising, chart. Temp should rise in second half of month, indicating an egg has been released. Sex should be marked on this and you get to be humiliated by at at your gynaecologists.
Luteal phase deficiency: shortened menstrual cycle, less than 10-14 days with/without ovulation, meaning a fertilized egg may not have enough time to implant before a period.
Clomid: fertility drug, used for luteal deficiencies and anovulation etc. Taken early on in the menstrual cycle. You still use the temperature chart and have a preogesterone test on day 21-23. Side effects include possible multiple release of eggs, pelvic pain/ache and hot flushes. Twins are not uncommon.
I also had a hystero-salpingogram which involves dye being squirted through your reproductive organs to see if there are any blockages.
G didn't escape unscathed, however jerking off into a cup isn't my idea of hardship. He, however made it harder on himself by taking the first sample to the lab without the request slip. The second sample he "got" in a public loo near the lab and someone reached for his ankle under the partition while said collection was in progress. Go figure. I'm still amazed he finished.....
Oh I had a heap of blood tests too, for chromosomes, weird blood groups, diabetes, clotting diseases etc. fun times.
The next time followed the same course, which was becoming depressingly familiar. This time I was being ultrasounded regularly and taking progesterone pessaries, all to no avail. I lost this foetus at home this time. After this we were suitably traumatised and decided to delay trying for a baby for a while.
We came to an agreement that we would wait for a year and start again. We decided how long we would try for and how far we would go (up to 35, stop at IVF). One of my colleagues and I bonded as we were going through the same thing at the same time. She went to IUST (intra uterine wperm transfer)and fell pregnant before I did. Nonetheless, the support from her was very helpful as infertility is one of those things that makes people uncomfortable, so they are quite often rude/inappropriate about it. Surprisingly G found a lot of support from his mainly male work colleagues, which was also very helpful. In that year I concentrated on existing family and career. I started midwifery, despite some saying I was mad, but it actually depersonalized it for me. The midwives I trained with assured me that I would be pregnant when I finished the course and even though I didn't believe them, I was 6 months pregnant with miss 11 when I finished. Her and miss 8 have been an absolute gift. Miss 11 is like a female version of G and miss 8 a mini me.
So while my story isn't the worst it could be, it was still a long 3 years and enough to make me appreciate my fertility and the kids I have.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Sleep
In these days of enforced rest (I have a pseudomeningocele), I may as well write on my blog and sleep is one topic that fascinates me. Thankfully, I have never really had a problem with it and my sympathies go out to those that do, whether their own sleep is poor, or someone else (usually a small child) is disrupting it.
My childrens' sleep has usually been pretty good, something I try not to admit to my clients who are struggling with their own child's sleep. That won't actually help. No one really knows whether a persons sleep is "inherited" or the result of how they've learned to go to sleep, but quite often I've found that when a baby is a poor sleeper, there is also a parent that is too. Anecdotal, no science here at all, but still interesting.
As a kid I was a good sleeper and this continued to adulthood, with the occasional off night like everyone and nights that sleep was interfered with via drink/chemical means. On the whole, I could go to bed, turn the light off and seemingly five minutes later wake to the alarm. This, of course eventually wore off and sleep became just that bit harder to attain, to the point that I am aware of moving around regularly and needing a ridiculous routine to go to sleep. The only point that I had a nostalgic return to the sleep of my 20s was when I had brain surgery in 2010 and I'd hardly reccomend that as a solution to everyone's sleep problems.
My sleep has progressively gone something like this.
infancy: NFI and don't expect me to remember. I was a child of the 60s, so I imagine that I was fed, burped, changed and put to bed, crying or not.
Childhood:pretty good, although when we got sent to bed, we damn well went, no protests, daylight savings or not. Of course, we all learned the trick, as we got older, of sitting silently on the couch, hoping that our parents would forget we were there and thus forget our bedtime.
Teens: became a bit more changeable, particularly as I got older and started going out. My parents developed a horrid habit of vacuuming or mowing the lawn just outside my bedroom 8 or 9 of a weekend morning, in order to get me out of bed. Gaarh! Mum happily admits it was all her idea.
20s: the era of the aforementioned "coma sleep". Blessed days. There was the odd night that I laid awake for hours, worrying about money, evacuation in the event of a house fire, uni, break ins, the local serial killer (I'm not actually jesting). One of my friends tapped on my bedroom window for about 5 minutes one night, 3 of which I was frozen in terror, before she spoke my name and I got up to let her in. She wanted panadol for her boyfriend's migraine....yep. I started to put vaseline on my lips as I woke with severely cracked lips from mouth breathing while pregnant (actually still in my teens).
30s: married now to someone that had started to snore! Not to bad at first. Was no longer sleeping on my stomach because I got a sore neck and pins and needles at my shoulder blade. Weird. Started using pillows during 3rd pregnancy and kept using them. Eventually started to wear ear plugs to enable any sleep. I had a particularly vile night with Gs snoring that ended with me striking him on the head and yelling at him to shut up. He was most offended, still doesn't really believe that he snores, despite multiple people complaining of it. Go figure.
40s: G still snores, still wear earplugs, vaseline/ pawpaw ointment on my lips, have pillow between knees and under top arm. Sleeping on left side because of surgery (and the soft spot above my right ear and the meningocele which has been christened squishy) at present. My left leg is getting sore. I also have a splint to wear over my top teeth at night now, because I have woken myself multiple times clanging my jaw shut on my tongue or inner cheek. The results include waking myself up and mouth ulcers down the track. I also like to make sure my feet are clean in summer (barefoot see) and I read in bed most nights (part of the settling routine).
God, I'll be drinking horlicks before you know it. I still sleep alright though, just not as deep as when I was younger. I have heard you need less as you age. I do still have a nanna nap at the present, but I expect that will stop fairly soon. Actually, I've always enjoyed the nanna nap on the odd occasion. I've often thought I should live in Spain, but they're broke now......
My childrens' sleep has usually been pretty good, something I try not to admit to my clients who are struggling with their own child's sleep. That won't actually help. No one really knows whether a persons sleep is "inherited" or the result of how they've learned to go to sleep, but quite often I've found that when a baby is a poor sleeper, there is also a parent that is too. Anecdotal, no science here at all, but still interesting.
As a kid I was a good sleeper and this continued to adulthood, with the occasional off night like everyone and nights that sleep was interfered with via drink/chemical means. On the whole, I could go to bed, turn the light off and seemingly five minutes later wake to the alarm. This, of course eventually wore off and sleep became just that bit harder to attain, to the point that I am aware of moving around regularly and needing a ridiculous routine to go to sleep. The only point that I had a nostalgic return to the sleep of my 20s was when I had brain surgery in 2010 and I'd hardly reccomend that as a solution to everyone's sleep problems.
My sleep has progressively gone something like this.
infancy: NFI and don't expect me to remember. I was a child of the 60s, so I imagine that I was fed, burped, changed and put to bed, crying or not.
Childhood:pretty good, although when we got sent to bed, we damn well went, no protests, daylight savings or not. Of course, we all learned the trick, as we got older, of sitting silently on the couch, hoping that our parents would forget we were there and thus forget our bedtime.
Teens: became a bit more changeable, particularly as I got older and started going out. My parents developed a horrid habit of vacuuming or mowing the lawn just outside my bedroom 8 or 9 of a weekend morning, in order to get me out of bed. Gaarh! Mum happily admits it was all her idea.
20s: the era of the aforementioned "coma sleep". Blessed days. There was the odd night that I laid awake for hours, worrying about money, evacuation in the event of a house fire, uni, break ins, the local serial killer (I'm not actually jesting). One of my friends tapped on my bedroom window for about 5 minutes one night, 3 of which I was frozen in terror, before she spoke my name and I got up to let her in. She wanted panadol for her boyfriend's migraine....yep. I started to put vaseline on my lips as I woke with severely cracked lips from mouth breathing while pregnant (actually still in my teens).
30s: married now to someone that had started to snore! Not to bad at first. Was no longer sleeping on my stomach because I got a sore neck and pins and needles at my shoulder blade. Weird. Started using pillows during 3rd pregnancy and kept using them. Eventually started to wear ear plugs to enable any sleep. I had a particularly vile night with Gs snoring that ended with me striking him on the head and yelling at him to shut up. He was most offended, still doesn't really believe that he snores, despite multiple people complaining of it. Go figure.
40s: G still snores, still wear earplugs, vaseline/ pawpaw ointment on my lips, have pillow between knees and under top arm. Sleeping on left side because of surgery (and the soft spot above my right ear and the meningocele which has been christened squishy) at present. My left leg is getting sore. I also have a splint to wear over my top teeth at night now, because I have woken myself multiple times clanging my jaw shut on my tongue or inner cheek. The results include waking myself up and mouth ulcers down the track. I also like to make sure my feet are clean in summer (barefoot see) and I read in bed most nights (part of the settling routine).
God, I'll be drinking horlicks before you know it. I still sleep alright though, just not as deep as when I was younger. I have heard you need less as you age. I do still have a nanna nap at the present, but I expect that will stop fairly soon. Actually, I've always enjoyed the nanna nap on the odd occasion. I've often thought I should live in Spain, but they're broke now......
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
New year
It's my first post of the year and it's already half way through the month!!! My how time flies.
In my defence, I am recuperating from brain surgery, which although not as radical as the first one, is still not for the faint hearted.
My poor girls have not had a very exciting school holidays, being largely trapped at home, since I can't drive and my husband G has had to work and take on extra duties at home that I would normally do. Miss 24, who has moved out, now comes over once a week to help with housework and make a couple of meals and my parents also come over once a week to help out as well.
I have been doing short bursts of housework, cooking etc, but have been more confined to the couch because of an unfortunate discovery of a fluid collection under the skin behind my ear, where my most recent op site is. I have a bony defect there, as in some bone was removed during surgery no 1, and was never replaced, so it is weaker there.
Being a nurse, I immediately assumed the worst (csf leak) and have been to the GP and have had an MRI, which without the report looks fairly like sections of my head and brain, with a bit of fluid sitting behind my right ear. So I can over analyse that for the moment. Hmmmm. So, even though I feel ok still, I'm resting, which is becoming very frustrating. I'm due to see my GP soon, so she should have the report and I will be seeing the surgeon on Tuesday, so hopefully I don't need anything else done.
I will be glad when the time comes that my (ex) tumour isn't the centre of my existence and I can live my life as normal again. I've got things to do, damnit.....and my garden's starting to look a bit wild too.
In my defence, I am recuperating from brain surgery, which although not as radical as the first one, is still not for the faint hearted.
My poor girls have not had a very exciting school holidays, being largely trapped at home, since I can't drive and my husband G has had to work and take on extra duties at home that I would normally do. Miss 24, who has moved out, now comes over once a week to help with housework and make a couple of meals and my parents also come over once a week to help out as well.
I have been doing short bursts of housework, cooking etc, but have been more confined to the couch because of an unfortunate discovery of a fluid collection under the skin behind my ear, where my most recent op site is. I have a bony defect there, as in some bone was removed during surgery no 1, and was never replaced, so it is weaker there.
Being a nurse, I immediately assumed the worst (csf leak) and have been to the GP and have had an MRI, which without the report looks fairly like sections of my head and brain, with a bit of fluid sitting behind my right ear. So I can over analyse that for the moment. Hmmmm. So, even though I feel ok still, I'm resting, which is becoming very frustrating. I'm due to see my GP soon, so she should have the report and I will be seeing the surgeon on Tuesday, so hopefully I don't need anything else done.
I will be glad when the time comes that my (ex) tumour isn't the centre of my existence and I can live my life as normal again. I've got things to do, damnit.....and my garden's starting to look a bit wild too.
Friday, December 30, 2011
a tale of 2 surgeries
Hard to believe that I'm back on here already. Yes a mere 2 and a half weeks after brain surgery, my second. I had my first 19th Feb 2010 and this last one 12th Dec 2011 and the experiences were poles apart. Just briefly (I am post op still after all).
1st: I was in theatre 12 hours (roughly)
2nd: I was in theatre 3 hours (in anaesthetics pre op for ages and I cannot recommend midazolam highly enough as a pre op relaxant)
1st: I don't remember the first 2 days (spent in ICU and high dependency)
2nd: I remember the first night telling my husband to go home to the kids at 10 o'clock (spent the night in high dependency)
1st: I slept more than I was awake, for weeks!!!
2nd: I only have 1 nanna nap
1st: they only got 80% of the tumour (it probably would have killed me if they'd tried to get it all admittedly)
2nd: it's all gone, even the bit in my ear and around my trigeminal nerve
1st: I needed allied health therapy of every sort and a walking stick
2nd: so far I haven't needed any of it
All told I am very grateful to both doctors at the PA (princess alexandra hospital) even though they didn't get all the tumour and were very much against me going a 2nd time, as well as Dr Teo (at the prince of wales private) for getting it all out, with far less side effects this time. With luck this is the last time I ever have to go through this. While I still have to recuperate (face still fairly numb, ear still pretty deaf and eyes still not coordinating), I have no permanent nerve damage and no tumour. I am also eternally grateful that I had a benign tumour and not a cancerous one and send out my best wishes to those fighting a cancerous tumour.
1st: I was in theatre 12 hours (roughly)
2nd: I was in theatre 3 hours (in anaesthetics pre op for ages and I cannot recommend midazolam highly enough as a pre op relaxant)
1st: I don't remember the first 2 days (spent in ICU and high dependency)
2nd: I remember the first night telling my husband to go home to the kids at 10 o'clock (spent the night in high dependency)
1st: I slept more than I was awake, for weeks!!!
2nd: I only have 1 nanna nap
1st: they only got 80% of the tumour (it probably would have killed me if they'd tried to get it all admittedly)
2nd: it's all gone, even the bit in my ear and around my trigeminal nerve
1st: I needed allied health therapy of every sort and a walking stick
2nd: so far I haven't needed any of it
All told I am very grateful to both doctors at the PA (princess alexandra hospital) even though they didn't get all the tumour and were very much against me going a 2nd time, as well as Dr Teo (at the prince of wales private) for getting it all out, with far less side effects this time. With luck this is the last time I ever have to go through this. While I still have to recuperate (face still fairly numb, ear still pretty deaf and eyes still not coordinating), I have no permanent nerve damage and no tumour. I am also eternally grateful that I had a benign tumour and not a cancerous one and send out my best wishes to those fighting a cancerous tumour.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
End of year
Yes, it's the pointy end of the year. The countdown to Christmas is on. The tree is up, pressies bought and wrapped, cards given/sent. I've also...
shopped for the kids (for while I'm away), packed (mostly bags), washed sheets, doctors appt attended, paperwork for work done, attended to emails (mostly) and have prepared garden for while I'm gone. We leave for Sydney and a date with Dr Teo at the Prince of Wales private (on the 12th) tomorrow. Just quietly, I'm bricking it (as the poms would say). On the one hand, he said he would prefer to get rid of the tumour while it's still small and I'm still young (thanks). On the other hand the doctors at the hospital I had the first operation have said different things to me every time I've seen them, the latest being leave it, it's risky and it's not growing at the moment, wait as long as you can before we operate (which is inevitable). As my GP said, damned if you do, damned if you don't. After careful consideration, I'm going with operate now, while I am still young and recovery will be easier.
So, we leave tomorrow, driving. One day I will have to post about the many fun trips we've done in the car across the country, but today isn't that day. We are going to the Harry Potter exhibition and miss 8 is dying to go. A friend from work has kindly emailed some things for us to see in Sydney (we're catching up with her, when she also goes down there with her kids). So, it won't all be unpleasant. I've also dragged out the comedy DVDs. I bought the box set of Frasier while I was convalescing (love that word) last year. I think I got through seasons 1, 2 & 3. I also have the last season of Seinfeld with me. Daytime tv was driving me bonkers. All I ended up doing was swearing at the infomercials and marvelling at how petty all our problems seem. I probably won't be up to much reading, but I have a couple of books and my nintendo DS (brain training games) and of course, my trusty ipad (pats fondly). We'll be fine.
I have set myself a challenge for when we get back home (22nd/23rd). It is my back yard at the very bottom of our 1 &1/4 acre block, about 10m2. After 13 years, G finally fenced it off properly and I am going to rescue it from the bush and weeds and turn it into some sort of garden. When it rains heavily it gets rather wet (it's on a slope), it's mostly in shade and it's close to the bush.
shopped for the kids (for while I'm away), packed (mostly bags), washed sheets, doctors appt attended, paperwork for work done, attended to emails (mostly) and have prepared garden for while I'm gone. We leave for Sydney and a date with Dr Teo at the Prince of Wales private (on the 12th) tomorrow. Just quietly, I'm bricking it (as the poms would say). On the one hand, he said he would prefer to get rid of the tumour while it's still small and I'm still young (thanks). On the other hand the doctors at the hospital I had the first operation have said different things to me every time I've seen them, the latest being leave it, it's risky and it's not growing at the moment, wait as long as you can before we operate (which is inevitable). As my GP said, damned if you do, damned if you don't. After careful consideration, I'm going with operate now, while I am still young and recovery will be easier.
So, we leave tomorrow, driving. One day I will have to post about the many fun trips we've done in the car across the country, but today isn't that day. We are going to the Harry Potter exhibition and miss 8 is dying to go. A friend from work has kindly emailed some things for us to see in Sydney (we're catching up with her, when she also goes down there with her kids). So, it won't all be unpleasant. I've also dragged out the comedy DVDs. I bought the box set of Frasier while I was convalescing (love that word) last year. I think I got through seasons 1, 2 & 3. I also have the last season of Seinfeld with me. Daytime tv was driving me bonkers. All I ended up doing was swearing at the infomercials and marvelling at how petty all our problems seem. I probably won't be up to much reading, but I have a couple of books and my nintendo DS (brain training games) and of course, my trusty ipad (pats fondly). We'll be fine.
I have set myself a challenge for when we get back home (22nd/23rd). It is my back yard at the very bottom of our 1 &1/4 acre block, about 10m2. After 13 years, G finally fenced it off properly and I am going to rescue it from the bush and weeds and turn it into some sort of garden. When it rains heavily it gets rather wet (it's on a slope), it's mostly in shade and it's close to the bush.
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