Another Surgery, Another Interview

I had a really long day the other day, Friday.

My mom had yet another surgery, and I had another job interview. There was also no food in the fridge so we needed that as well. For the most part my morning was super hectic.

These surgeries are getting to feel numb to me. When my mom tells me she has another one in a couple of weeks I already know the routine.

She wont eat 12 hours ahead, we wake up at the peak of dawn, drive to the hospital, register in, go upstairs, then register me as the “driver”, sit and wait to be called in, get called and she changes into a gown, wait a little more and then go into yet another room where the surgeons talk and the anesthesiologist lets my mom know she is in safe hands, she then gets a really small dose of the anesthesia, and then bam, shes rolled away to the OR and in surgery and I’m left waiting until they call me.

To some these seem like a lot, but to me its just a simple doctor visit. I wish it didn’t sound as cruel as it sounded but even for my mom its become a part of life, as if its a thing everyone goes through. She wasn’t even nervous this time around, she was a boss, she walked with confidence and was eager to just be done with it.

This feeling of “insensitivity” (which is not even an accurate definition of the feeling) doesn’t make the experience any less sucky. We still hate that she has to go through all of this, granted she is cancer free now and has been for 3 years, but the after math this thing causes is so bad. The good part is that its over for now and shes back home happily sleeping and dreaming in drug land with unicorns and talking butterflies.

Meanwhile, I had to go to an interview. I left the hospital as soon as they took her in and went grocery shopping. This isn’t the first time I leave when shes under surgery. My thought is sure I can stay but what is that going to do? Am I going to help the Surgeons? Plus, I need to keep my brain busy or else it wonders and then I can’t find it.

I bought the groceries we needed and headed home to put them away and change to go to my interview. I wasn’t nervous and I wasn’t excited, I was rushing with everything that I didn’t even have time to feel. It was the only slot they had and it was unfortunately around the same time that my mom was in surgery.

Now, lets talk about the interview. They really don’t scare me. You either like me or you don’t, period. Yes, I’m going to talk good about myself and sell you the best person that you can possible hire, but I’m not going to sell myself out either.

The position that they posted said “customer service” and the description had something to do with being the middle man between the company and the clients. I thought I was going to get a desk and a phone. But no, the lady who interviewed me and another girl (I guess they decided to do a two for one special) told us that we would be placed in stores and walk around and ask people if they want solar panels. WTF. THEN PUT THAT IN YOUR FUCKING DESCRIPTION LADY.

Before entering the interview, me and the other person getting interviewed started talking in the waiting room. She said how she can’t stand jobs that post that they are customer service jobs but its actually marketing. That you have to go out door to door and sell things, or make cold calls. She didn’t want that, I don’t either, boy were we in for a surprise.

Once I picked up my mom and came home, I received a call from the secretary of the company that said that the interviewer really liked me and would like me to return for a one on one interview for the next step. I politely declined.

I don’t know if this makes sense but I’ll say it anyways, on some days I am a people person and on others I don’t even want to talk to the voices in my head. So no, I could not take the job.

So there’s that. I am not upset and I don’t think I am sad, I just feel blah. Like ugh what can I do? That’s just life. I almost ate my feelings by going to Starbucks and ordering something super sweet and unhealthy, but I didn’t.

Because I remembered, I don’t have a job, and I don’t have any money.

Severe Anxiety With A Sprinkle Of Depression

I finally saw a therapist.

Yes a real one. Not the one I made up in my head a couple months ago. Although, I’d say that session with myself did rather go pretty well.

Anyways, It was different. Last year I saw a counselor at my local doctors office that my doctor had recommended me. I went for maybe about three weeks but for some random reason I never went back.

This time I didn’t want a counselor. I wanted someone, I’d say, with a little more experience and expertise. And I was able to find one.

I took a test at the beginning, which was random, but it was mostly about how I was feeling, what I was going through, and other random question about my days to day.

Then we went over it and the therapist asked me to go more in-depth on why I felt the way I felt. It’s not easy to talk about things with a total stranger but I really didn’t have anything to lose, so I let my mouth run, and boy did it ever.

In the end, she finally told me what I had. She said I have severe anxiety with a little sprinkle of depression. Well isn’t that cute? Those weren’t words but it sounds less scary that way for me.

She asked me about medication and if I was willing to take any. In my head I’ve always told myself I didn’t need any. I’m fine. I don’t want to be crazy and taking pills all the time. I see on tv all these people going bonkers because they take pills, or hear how people hate taking them.

I told her that I was worried in doing so but if it helped, then I was willing to try. She told me that mental health issues depicted on TV are taken to the extreme and are not that accurate.

I’m starting off with this one med that I don’t really know the name of [it’s at the pharmacy still because I’m still nervous to take it. (Side note: isn’t it ironic that my own anxiety is stopping from taking anxiety medication for my anxiety? I just thought that was funny)].

She told me all the benefits of what she prescribed, and all the side effects. Also, she said that not every medication is meant for everyone so we might have to see what works for me. She gave me her contact info to keep her updated since according to her the first few weeks were critical.

So that along with something called CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) that I should see improvements, but things don’t happen over night. With due time. But for that to happen I have to start taking the meds.

I hope they help, I hope all this helps.

ICU, Paint, And Recovery

Success. My mother’s surgery went great. Ten long hours went by like a wink of an eye and it was soon over.

I’ve had an overwhelming amount of support from friends and people from church. I never imagined people would care. I know that most of them do it because it’s a nice thing to do. But I appreciate the ones that do it form the heart.

I haven’t slept much. While my mother has been in the hospital I wanted to surprise her when she comes back. I’m painting the kitchen and the bathroom. The bathroom will be blue and the kitchen will be white. I can’t wait for her to see it.

She’s been at the hospital since Friday. She was in ICU since this morning and then they moved her to a regular room. Which is great news. They want to discharge her by tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully she gets well soon. She’s walking on her own although she does need help getting up but that’s a great start.

Once she’s back home I’ll need to rest in between me taking care of her and also driving my brother to and from work. I don’t go back until October the ninth. I think I will be well rested for that.

Right now I’m trying really hard not to spend money since I’m not getting paid for this time off. But I know somehow we will get through this rut.

Stay Strong Mom

I woke up fifteen minutes before 4 AM in the morning. No alarm, no one woke me up. It was just the sensation that something was different.

My brother has been working night shifts and I am his ride, I have to pick him up at 4:30. Every morning everyday before I go to work. He usually calls me when I have to pick him up, today I was already awake and coming back from Starbucks. I needed coffee, let me rephrase that, I needed sugar.

Once my brother was home and said his goodbyes to my mother we drove to the hospital where her reconstruction surgery was going to take place. She was nervous I could tell. I was calm, at least that’s what I gave off in appearance.

We registered and got her admitted and soon we were speaking to the nurses and doctors regarding the surgery and the procedures. They explained what and how they were going to do it (again), it was pretty raw and gruesome, but that’s the way doctors should be.

Pretty soon I said good bye and watched her get wheeled away and taken. I had a minor flash back of last year when she had her mastectomy. Last year I was in a terrible place. I’m ok admitting that now.

Now I’m in a better place. Nonetheless, I do have emotions, and it is terrifying just being in a hospital in general. I am from Hispanic decent and if you have ever watched a Spanish soap opera, nothing good comes from hospital nurses mouths.

But I can’t think like that. A nurse updated me and said that everything is going well. No issues, just time. A lot of time left. I’ve been getting a lot of support from friends through social media.

I know they care, but is it wrong for me to ignore them? I need space. I need to focus. I need to center myself. With everyone asking and wishing for the best and saying it’s going to be ok is really overwhelming. It kind of screams at me hey your mom is in a intensive surgery that may or may not end her life ! But good luck!

This is not pushing people away. This is me getting myself together before I explode in front of them. I’m not one to break down in front of people, that’s not really my style. I collect myself and move on. If everyone is worried who’s gonna keep me sane?

Anyway I’m rambling now, I continue to hope and pray that the surgery is a success and that everything goes fine. I am nervous but not as much, I love my mom and losing her would be the worst possible thing in the world.

Stay strong mom. I love you.

I Will Not Break

I’m sitting in a target parking lot. I’m tired, I’m exhausted, I’m highly stress, but I refuse to to let anyone know. I refuse to step down from where I am and say that I am not ok. I refuse to have people pity me and feel sorry for everything that is going on in my life.

My mother goes into an intensive ten hour surgery this Friday. It has high risks and it also has benefits. Not to mention her car just broke down today.

Life is testing me. I will not break. I am strong. I refuse to cry. I am not weak.

I’ve been through so much that this just seems like another hill. I’m not cocky, this is not confidence. This is me telling myself that I can do it. That whatever this is will soon be over. Good or bad it will have I happen and I will have to move on.

Surgery

We have another life decision to make. Well, my mom does.

It’s time for her reconstruction surgery. We saw the doctor and he gave us two options of what she can chose to do.

The first one is the most common. Breast implants. It’s the usual surgery of implanting silicone bags where the breast used to be. There are not too many complications. The only down side is she would be needing to change the bags every 10 years or so, as it is recommended.

The other option, the one that frightens me, is having part of her own fat transferred from the stomach or another part of the body, to her breast.

This one has more complications. It involves the doctors removing fat and arteries from a part of her body and putting it the place where her old breast used to be. This surgery is 8-10 hour surgery and she would need to be under intensive care since it involves arteries.

The second one scares me the most since the surgery lasts so long and the fact that something can go wrong with the veins and such is what scares me the most. But it seems that this is the one she is leaning towards the most.

She explained that even though its so long and there are risks, once its all over it will be over, and it will be part of  her body. The implants she will have to replace every two years and her body might not take them well.

What made her even more confident is that the doctor told her that she was a great candidate for the fat transfer. Hearing this also made me feel better about that surgery but over all its her decisions and she will do what she thinks is  best for her.

 

If You Have Breasts, Get Them Checked

Let’s talk about my mother.

I feel like I haven’t talked about her for a while and she’s the most important thing in my life. Yes, at times she is annoying and frustrates me to death, but I still love her.

Last week we saw the Breast Cancer Coordinator. She was really nice and helpful trying to get us to see the plastic surgeon as fast as we couldn’t for my moms reconstruction therapy. She told us she needed all of my moms medical records.

So yesterday we went around town driving to clinics and labs picking up the records my mom requested last week. Question: why do you have to pay for medical records that are yours? I find that really annoying. That’s like your life on paper and you have to pay to obtain it. It’s really rude.

But atlas, we got them all. At one clinic they couldn’t find her in their records. My heart sort of sank. I didn’t need this at the moment. Like we need her records and the records couldn’t be found. But with the miracle form the lord or actual hard work from the medical records intern they were able to find them.

After all that my mom decided that we needed to make copies just in case they asked for them again we wouldn’t have to go through all that. So I bought some ink for my printer but apparently it’s broken now. So that was a waste of money.

I came to the local library instead to copy them. Was almost the same price as buying the ink. But what are you going to do? Things break, money comes and goes, what’s important is that my mom gets back her feel good attitude that every woman deserves . And I know that this surgery will help her.

She wants this all to be done as I do too. I really hate breast cancer. So if you have breasts, get them checked.

Merry Fucking Christmas

It’s Christmas Eve and I’m stuck at my call center job. I really hate it here. It’s minimum wage and you have to constantly take calls and harassing people, stay up to date with your stats, and try not to mess up. Honestly it’s too much. Plus I have my other job. My full time job pays more so idk why I’m even here. I could just walk out right now. But I can’t, and I won’t. Don’t have those balls.

Tomorrow I’ll be here for 11 hours. Marvelous. I’m getting paid over time and then after 8 hours it’s double so hell yes I’ll be here. Plus they say it’s really slow so why not. What we get paid on over time is what we should actually be getting paid . I mean this is serious business. It Doctor calls and hospital calls. What if we miss something? What if we write the wrong info? Didn’t matter matter.

Ive been feeling down for a while now. I hate being like this. I wish I could swap life with someone who is happy just to know how that feeling feels all the time. I swear I’m happy one day and then I’ll be so low fro the next 4 weeks .

I was going to help a friend move her tv from her old house to her boyfriends house. I was meeting her at midnight and she never showed up. I was over tired, sick, and sleep deprived. I knew she was going to flake like she always does but I’m just too nice of a person.

Anyway Merry Fucking Christmas.

Ten Years

Yesterday we went to the oncologist and finally got the results on my mom's breast cancer tissue and what type of cancer it was. I think it was something like invasive carcinoma. She wrote it down on our paper because it was a tricky word. But she said if there was cancer that if you had to have a cancer this one was the one to have. Doctors and their doctors sense of humor.

Basically it's three hormones to feed the cancer cell. So estrogen, progesterone, and HER 2 negative. That's what this type of cancer feeds off. And my mom had the combination of the three. Well don't quote me on this, she has estrogen and progesterone, but she was negative on HER 2 which is a protein or something that controls how healthy breast cells grow, so obviously with out it it's perfect for cancer to grow.

Now that we knew what happened we could find a solution. The doctor said she didn't need to have chemo, which was great news. We didn't want to go through all that pain since it was already hard enough. So she said instead she would just have to take a pill… for ten years.

At first I laughed because I thought she had miss placed her words or she was joking like doctors do, but no, she was serious. It's called Tamoxifen. It's an anti-estrogen hormone. So she said that that will stop them from coming together and forming any other cancer cells on the other breast.

I was looking into the drug and it seems pretty good. The doctor said there's almost a 100% survival rate after five years which is really really great news. The thing is it's a good $100 to get per month. We haven't gone to get it at the pharmacy yet, we will today, I'm hoping that our insurance covers it.


Update, it did. At least for about five months. It has some side effects though. Not that all bad but we just have to keep an eye on her. I'm glad we're getting though this. It has been the toughest year yet for us but some how we managed to get through it. Really makes me smile and feel good to see how strong my family is.

We Will Survive

Sometimes I feel like I'm cursed. Or have bad juju. Or have the worst luck in the world. Or if I get even more creative, which I have, maybe the guy who is in charge of writing my life in the book of life is just screwing with me and likes watching me suffer. Who knows? It's just a series of unfortunate events and they seem to get worse.

Today we went to the oncologist to see what treatment my mother would need. We thought we were finally going to move forward with this. Once we arrived we waiting more than usual and then once in the room we knew why.

They lost the fucking results. Ok let me explain. We have to see three doctors. The surgen, the oncologist, and the lab people. Apparently, when faxing over all the info or how ever they communicate with each other they lost the results. Well, technically not lost. They said that they are some where but they just don't know where. Hello! Definition of lost here.

The oncologist said they are trying to solve this as soon as possible. I saw the look of frustrating on my moms face and tried to calm her. She's already going through enough for this to happen and I hate seeing her down. It's like life is against us. What are we supposed to do? Roll over and die? Seems like that's what life wants.

No. We will survive. We will get though this. My mom is going to call the surgen and see what she can do. If that paper can not be found then the tissue will have to be tested again to see what type of came it is, hormonal, estrogen related, or something else the Dr. said I didn't really catch. And that testing can last for another couple of weeks.

Of course this happens to us. It's so annoying and I can't be surprised it has. After all that we have gone though what's not to be expected? But my fingers are crossed and if I have to start buying candles, a wand, a cauldron, and chant my way to a better life so help me God I will.