A Picture is worth 1,225 words.

As I wrote in my last few blog this has been a really difficult recovery, my 26^th surgery and by far the hardest recovery. It has been just one complication after the next. Today yet another one came up, everyone told me to expect some UTI (urinary tract infection) symptoms for a while after getting the catheter removed because any time you have a foreign object in your body it will leave bacteria.

So I ignored all the clear signs of a UTI. Burning (which I always have), urgency (which I always have), frequency (which I sometimes have), feeling like I might just pee at any given time (what I like to consider “loose pee”), and of course my pee was dark, thick, cloudy, dare I say chunky without someone passing out, and most disgustingly rancid smelling.

Each day it progressed but it wasn’t until last night that I knew it was serious. I had tons of blood coming from somewhere down there and we all know it’s not from my womanly parts (considering I have a full hysterectomy 3 months ago). Then I felt feverish. I seriously considered going to the ER but honestly I was just too tired.

I woke up this morning and the bleeding had let up but the rest was still bad. I also felt really sick. I can’t even really explain it… I just felt sick. Sore, shivery, hot, tired, uncomfortable in my own skin… I knew I needed to get checked out soon. Considering my urologist is an hour and a half away I decided to just go to my local emergency room.

Nothing especially interesting happened there… My mom got chased down by the security guard because she was carrying Titus pretend dog kennel, I put on my hospital gown and Titus said “cool shirt momma”, they gave me toradol (even though I’m pretty sure I could find stronger drugs behind the bleachers at a jr. high), they gave me antibiotics via an IV that I (obviously) had an allergic reaction to, and was told by the nurse that the results of my urine test were the worst she had seen.

 Then they sent me home full of dilaudid (which I convinced the doctor to give me when I told him I had a whole bottle at home… then he probably called some local school principles and told them to be on the watch for me behind bleachers) and benadryl. I came home. Took my pants off, put ear plugs in and my eye mask on and slept. I was woken by a bouncing toddler stage whispering “mama sheeping, shhhh” when I pried my eye mask off he had the biggest smile and said “hi mama! Snuggle mama!”

That helped.

I took another dilaudid and that helped too.

So I was feeling semi okay for a couple hours then the pain just took over me again. I was sitting in my bed crying, rubbing my swollen belly that looks 5 months pregnant except it’s not... It’s just from my bladder full of infection and pain. My husband was snoring his face off, Parenthood was on pause and I cried. I don’t want to do this anymore. Seriously. I’m done.

Please don’t think this is a rare occurrence but it was an especially bad pity party… The whole shebang, metaphorical hats and streamers even.

I knew I had to deploy one of my “Deni’s 5 Ways to Leave a Pity Party”.

1. I pray.  (I plead God to just get me through this. I have accepted this is the life that was meant for me (for now) and it is coming as no surprise to Him but I’m sure it’s breaking His heart to watch me suffer.)

2. I try to distract myself. (Friends reruns, a phone call to my Grandma, pinterest, ice cream, pretty much anything not related to babies or pain.)

3. Snuggle with my husband and let him tell me it will be okay. (I don’t know why this works but it does, his arms are magical and forehead kisses are magical.) Or snuggle with my 2 year, kiss his head, stare at every single feature. (He sometimes can't contain his love, he says "love you mama" then squeezes me so tight and sometimes even bites me... Tiny Edward Cullen.)

4. Talk to my mom. (She lets me have a pity party (she brings the metaphorical cake) and cries right along with me.)

5. I look at pictures. (The topic of this blog if I ever get to my point.)

I post a lot of photos on facebook, instagram and even in this blog… I take thousands more than I post. (Yes, I know that’s hard to believe…) For me pictures aren’t about duck faces or looking double t hot but about capturing moments in my life that are easy to forget when the camera is off and I’m in bed for the 5^th day in a row and don’t even know what the weathers like or what food we have in the fridge. When I feel like I cannot do another day with this pain I look at these wonderful gems.

They are my most prized possessions, pictures from my childhood, with my family, with my friends, when Zach and I were dating, our wedding, my pregnancy, and of course Titus' entire life. I pick a random event or date and just peruse through them suddenly remembering things I would maybe have forgotten without these still shots of our lives.

I have to do it.

It reminds me I've gotten through hard times before and in spite of my health I have had, and continue to have, a wonderful life.

So yes, I take pictures of you while you’re carving your pumpkin, in your swimsuit floating at the lake, in 10 layers lying in the dirt cutting down a Christmas tree, trying to fly a kite, holding my son, or even take a selfie of you and me. It’s what I do. Deal with it.

I over share, I suck at keeping secrets, I’m a toucher, I am sarcastic, I tease, and I take pictures. It’s who I am, take it or leave it. Years from now I will look back and remember the time I over shared about something you would have been happy to not know, blabbed your secrets, touched you (not meaning that as creepy as it sounds), and sarcastically teased you while taking pictures and you will thank me for the reminder of that fun (sounds more awkward than fun perhaps) time. You’re welcome.

It will be filed under 2014, January, Deni being obnoxious.

I was sobbing as I started this blog, I intended it to be some deep portrayal of how I get through hardships by putting myself into better times through looking at fun old photos but you know me… I get easily distracted. That should go on my list too.

I swear those interstims and botox blogs are coming up real soon…

I just clicked random folders and picked any photo that captured a moment that I would like to jump into right now, I really have had a wonderful life! (It's 1:15 and I want to post this blog so I'm leaving the photos as they are... all haphazard and not in chronological order, forgive me!) 

If it's not one thing...

September 2011- Cesarean Section to deliver my son

October 2011- Mastitis

November 2011- Interstim revised.

December 2011- Mastitis

January 2012- Mastitis

February 2012- Diagnosed with severe postpartum depression

March 2012- Shingles

April 2012- Double interstim revision

June 2012- Cystoscopy with hydrodistention and Botox

September 2012- First horrible Urinary Tract Infection of many

November 2012- Cystoscopy with hydrodistention and Botox

December 2012- Anaphylactic reaction to a mix of Nucynta and Zofran

January 2013- Anaphylactic reaction to a mix of Vicodin and Zofran

February 2013- Laparoscopy to laser off endometriosis

March 2013- Cystoscopy with hydrodistention and Botox

May 2013- Got off birth control to start trying to get pregnant, Endo not happy!

June 2013- Started hormones to induce period to get pregnant

August 2013- Dystonic reaction to Tigan, in the ICU for 5 days

August 2013- Unable to walk for almost a month after the dystonia

August 2013- Finally started the period I had been waiting for... too late. 

August 2013- Cystoscopy with hydrodistention and Botox

September 2013- Full hysterectomy

October 2013- Recovering from surgery and adjusting to new hormones

November 2013- Endoscopy with several biopsies

Those are just the things that stick out in my mind… There have also been run of the mill colds and other normal life dramas… Oh and also chronic UTI’s, chronic nausea, occasional vomiting, endometriosis and Interstitial Cystitis.

Just typing those things it seems ridiculous that I could have experienced these things in the last 2 years… 

Like seriously, if I read a book and the main character had all these things happen I would be rolling my eyes at the absurdity and over exaggeration… I wish I could say that was the case.

These are just straight up facts.

I was just saying to my Mom the other day as she drove me to my Endoscopy how true that saying is for me, "if it’s not one thing, it’s another". The problem is all of these things I highlighted are horrible but the days in between are really hard too. So even if I’m not dealing with shingles, an infection, or recovering from surgery I am still dealing with chronic, unrelenting pain!

I hate saying this. It’s my most hated statement in the English language but… It is not fair. I’m sorry. I hate to say it but seeing all that I've gone through typed out...  it’s really not fair.

I feel like I deserve a break. Like a month long vacation on some tropical island where they bring me food and delicious drinks while I lay by the pool or on the beach reading good books.

But that’s not the case.

You might not believe me when I say this but really I don’t get like this very often… this “Poor me, pity me” attitude. Usually I’m a pretty positive “take each new day as it comes” kind of girl but sometimes I need to just write down all the horrible things that I have gone through and feel bad for myself for a minute.

So I did. I’m over it now.

It has been a hard couple of years, no doubt about it!

BUT! My son, bless his sweet heart, is very much like his Mommy and he feeds off of my emotions a lot. So we are happy to stay in jammies and read or watch movies all day, eating snacks on Daddy’s side of the bed (so we don’t get crumbs on my side)! Plus my Mom is my understudy in life. On days when it hurts too bad or I’m too drugged to even do that my Mom happily takes Titus and they go about their day.

Having a snack on Daddy's side of the bed! (We love you Daddy!)

Unfortunately my son is very much like me in not so great ways too… He doesn’t like change and he gets overwhelmed really easily. So now that I’m recovered from my hysterectomy and trying to start living some semblance of a normal life… he’s sort of panicking! He loves playing outside and going on some outings but new things like going to our Kindermusik class are so scary… He didn’t leave my lap until the last 5 minutes of class. Although nothing is worse than me trying to pawn him off on some kind volunteer in the toddler class at my new MOPS (Mother of Preschoolers) group or at Church. He clings to me like a baby monkey the minute we walk into either building and starts to cry the minute we walk down the hallway towards his class… Last Sunday was his first church service he made it in class the whole time! (He sat on one of the teachers laps and cried on and off the whole time but hey, it’s progress!)

Titus getting a stamp after Kindermusik class... Maybe it's not so bad? 

So anyway… We’re adjusting. I am still battling daily pain from my IC and my chronic nausea but my endometriosis is gone! Praise. The. Lord! So each week we are trying to do a little bit, even if I end up in bed for two days after every busy day. But, it’s worth it! (Or so my Mom tells me…)

We’re entering into a world of change… New classes, groups, friends and this toddler business isn’t coming as easy as infanthood did for me. The big three (moving Titus to a toddler bed, potty training, and taking away his precious goody (pacifier)) are staring me in the face wondering when, how, why but I’m trying to just relax and enjoy these last three lingering babyhood things. Plus like his mommy, he likes to take things slow…

So we’re going to MOPS every other week, kindermusik when we can and church every Sunday. Then resting in between. It’s good. It’s progress. It will take time to adjust but I’m praying that we’ll have somewhat of a break and can get into a good routine before the next storm hits! 

Today I go in to see my urologist. The day is finally here. I am hopeful. Believe it or not, after all these years I still get my hopes up each time. I'll post an update if anything newsworthy comes of it! 

Thanks again for reading! Can't believe people have come to my blog almost 18,000 times just to read my random mutterings! Very humbling! Love to you all! 

My jalopy of a bladder

My jalopy of a bladder

I’m a very visual person… I use metaphors. It’s what I do. So here we go.  

If a brand new cars check engine light comes on you are alerted and immediately check the problem. You take it to the shop they find out the issue and take care of it in no time. Then there’s an old, beat up car that has been around the block a few times. If its check engine light comes on you try to ignore it for a few weeks… then you realize it’s not acting right and eventually you take it to the shop. You wince as the mechanic lists off the problems and the total it would be to fix them. What’s a girl to do? I know what I would do… kindly ask the strapping greasy fellow what is the minimum I could fix to get my ol’ heap back in action.

In this analogy my bladder is that beat up car. It has dents, dings, and runs but only barely. My “check engine” light is almost always on so I have learned to not freak out any time I get a flare. Last week, not only was my check engine light on, my sad little bladder car would barely start. (This analogy has maybe gone too far? I hope you’re tracking.)

It always hurts when I pee. Literally every time. So when I sat down to go on Friday the burn I felt was expected and familiar but the stench I smelt was not. (I actually thought it was Titus’ diaper in the trash next to the toilet, sorry for the details… I over share, accept it.) Then I got in the shower as I always do after I tinkle to try to alleviate some of the pain and pressure. This pain was off the charts and every time a tiny bit of urine escaped that smell and pain accompanied it.

Then I realized the pain was a little different… the pressure and cramping was worse than ever. I described it to my Mom by saying my pee felt “thick”… at some point I’m pretty sure I said it felt like I was peeing a milk shake.

Being the scholarly type that I am I added up all of these signs and deduced that I perhaps had a bladder infection. I had Zach pick up an at home UTI test and right away it showed blaring positive results. I called my doctor, she called in a prescription for antibiotics and sent me to a lab to have the urine tested and the infection verified.

The antibiotics did nothing. I was running to the bathroom every few minutes and each time felt worse than the last. Not even my beloved shower helped… so I spent the weekend on narcotics, hovering under a heating bad and trying to ignore the pain as I got every thing ready for my sons first birthday party! The emotions and Mommy determination took over, the party was amazing but the minute it was over… my adrenalin was used up and I was down for the count. 

My doctor called Monday and confirmed that I do have a bladder infection and I felt pride in my diagnostics. I should work for Gregory House! 

Now here we are almost a week later, the infection is still raging, my lower back is aching along with the rest, and my body is exhausted from fighting the good fight. I am ready for this poisonous urine to pass out of my body so I can get back to living with just IC. I feel blessed by my usual 5-8 pain rather than this intolerable debilitating 10 pain.

I’m headed back to the lab tomorrow for another urine culture and hopefully we’ll get some answers soon...

So! Here is a tip for my IC girls… any time things feel different go with your gut instinct, it’s usually right! The nice thing about an infection is it’s totally treatable, no need for extra suffering! Also, don’t forget that Azo turns your urine neon orange because when you lose control of your bladder in the kitchen in front of your family it’s best to be prepared to explain!