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A Bad Case of the Crazies

May 9, 2012 By 6 Comments

Phew.

That is all I could think the morning of Tuesday, May 1st, the day my mother and I hit the road in a 10 foot Uhaul, en-route to Toronto. After living on a couch in a studio apartment with a wonderful friend who graciously took me in for 3 weeks, it was finally time to move myself back to good old Canada land.

I had moved out of my apartment 3 weeks earlier than I was supposed to. 3 weeks earlier than I had paid for. Unfortunately, I had no choice- my apartment wasn’t safe.

3 weeks prior to Tuesday, May 1st, I had solidified the fact that I could complete my Masters at NYU from Toronto by taking 2 online classes and writing my thesis at home. Knowing it would save me upwards of tens of thousands of dollars, I decided it only made sense to move back home. I made all the arrangements I needed to make, including confirming my plan with my program director, finding a place to live in Toronto, and securing a sublet for my room to fill in for me. I hadn’t actually signed a lease for my place in NYC, but it didn’t feel right putting my roommate out like that. The sublet I had found actually happened to be a girl who went to the same university as us for undergrad, was an absolute sweetheart, and extremely trustworthy- I couldn’t have found a better match to take my place.

Well, apparently I could have.

I informed my roommate of my plans and about the girl I had found to take my place in the apartment, knowing that this was a win-win situation for both of us. She, however, did not see it that way. Instead, she told me that I was not allowed to sublet my room and demanded that I had to continue to pay rent. Shocked, I simply said ok and walked out of the room.

Little did I know that this was the beginning of one of the most surreal events of my life.

The next day my roommate began to harass me by texting me and calling me constantly, insisting that I call her parents, yelling at me, and slamming doors. I was in utter dismay with her attitude as I had simply said “ok” to her demands and nothing about not paying.

The next day, she served me with a letter (that made little sense) from a lawyer that told me she was going to sue me if I moved out, stating that I had said I was going to move out without paying, which I had not. I had expected this letter, but I didn’t expect what followed…

That night, after my roommate had served me the letter from her lawyer, I realized that she had made passive aggression actions towards my things. She had thrown my shoes in a pile, taken a Christmas card of mine off the fridge, took my shower products and put them in the middle of the tub in standing water, and… well… to spare you the gross details… she had “tampered” with my toothbrush in one of the most disturbing ways possible. This action was so disgusting that I questioned whether it was safe to eat the food I had left in the fridge, as I was unsure of what she could have done to it.

It was then that I realized I couldn’t live there anymore, so I moved out for those 3 weeks. The problem was, I had to leave most of my stuff back in the apartment. It was 3 weeks later that I was able to retrieve my belongings, with the help of my mother. But not, of course, without hassle from my roommate.

The weekend my mother came into to town to help me collect my things also happened to be the weekend my roommate felt the need to recruit both of her parents to keep watch on us. And by watch, I actually mean stalk. The entire weekend, while the 5 of us were living in the tiny NYC apartment, my roommate’s parents not only went out of their way to make living arrangements unbelievably difficult, but went out of their wait to literally stalk my mother and I. They waited in the building foyer for us to show up for the first night, and then waited outside of the building for us when we would leave the apartment. While my mother and I enjoyed our time in NYC by shopping, going out for dinner, and seeing a show, they were stalking us-waiting for me to move out.

My mother and I let it slide as we were having a really great weekend together. We were able to pack my things quite quickly, which is why we could enjoy the things we did in the city before we had to leave. It wasn’t until the last day that things really got messy.

I had sent my roommate a letter (from the lawyer I had to acquire) a few days after her letter, stating not only the harassment she had inflicted on me, but that I would be moving out May 1st, as I had a presentation the night of April 30th. Apparently, her parents were never informed of the letter and they were under the assumption I would be moving out on the 30th. When they realized I was not ready to move out by 5pm that day, they.. well.. kind of went nuts.

After much discussion, my mom and I had decided earlier that day that it may be a better idea to move out that evening, just to get out of their harrassing ways. So, by 5pm on April 30th, my mother left the apartment to pick up the Uhaul…Unfortunately, at the same time my roommates parents came back into the apartment. They wasted no time to come into my room, where I was alone and cornered, to begin to verbally attacking me. Hearing this from down the hall, my mother came back into the apartment to save me. It then turned into a battlefield, as my roommates mom began yelling at us that we needed to “get the f*** out” of her apartment or she was going to call the police and physically move my stuff onto the street. My mother responded by informing my roommate’s mother that she could not do that, which we knew, because we had done our research.

To this, my roommates mom responded, “of course you did your research- you’re Jewish.”

Thankfully, we packed up and moved out of the apartment by 10pm that evening and drove to a hotel for the night. I couldn’t spend anymore time in that apartment, especially with people so vile… so anti-Semitic. My mother and I had a wonderful night’s sleep that night and were well rested for our long 10 hour drive back to Toronto the next day.

I am now home in my new apartment, still unpacking and finishing up an assignment for my spring semester before my summer semester begins. I am looking forward to all the wonderful things ahead of me and hoping that I never have to experience what I had experienced again. While I always look for the good in people, I guess there are always some people who just have a bad case of the crazies.

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Have you ever experienced a ridiculous roommate situation? What did you do and how did you survive?

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Sometimes You Just Can’t Avoid The Good People

April 28, 2012 By

When I originally moved to NYC, I had decided to keep to myself.

I would arrive to my class, sit down for the lesson, and leave as soon as it was over. I would then go home after class, do homework and go to sleep until I woke up the next morning to do my work for the remote internship I was doing from my couch until it was time for class once more.

I had made the decision to keep to myself because I knew that I wasn’t going to be in the city for long. After the craziness that was my undergrad university career with so many different types of classes, being a part of tons of organizations, attending a lot of parties, I had met so many people that I knew it was going to be hard to stay in touch with all of them. They were great people, but, unfortunately, studies show that you can really only stay in touch with a select few.

My goal in NYC was really just to get done what I had come here to do. Sure, I was going to be polite to my peers, but I had no intention of making good friends with them. Why? I thought. I was just going to have to leave soon anyways.

As the first semester went on, I began to interact with my peers more and more because of the mutual need to discuss exam questions and the group projects we were assigned for our finals. The Why? soon became the Why Not? and I made a few friends in the program. I didn’t hang out with them much, but it was nice to have someone to sit next to in a class. It was even nicer when I would get invited out for a drink after class. These few friends slowly became a little bit more. It wasn’t in my original plan, but these people were just so great to be around, I couldn’t refuse.

Boy, am I glad I didn’t stick to my plan.

When I realized that I was not able to live in my apartment for the remainder of my time in NYC, I had two of these amazing individuals come to my rescue. As soon as they had heard about my situation my new friends Natalie and Sarah both jumped at the chance to help me sort out my situation. Sarah, who I had only really hung out with a few times before took no hesitation to share her studio apartment with me. I had hardly known her, but she was willing to do that for me.

 

Not only had those two individuals come to my rescue and find me a roof over my head, but they, and a few other friends I had made put their extremely busy lives to aside last night to take me out for a celebratory farewell evening.  I have only known these people for a few short months, but they came together just to say goodbye to me, and I couldn’t be more grateful for knowing them.

I had a similar plan in terms of my working situation.

I had originally decided that once my remote internship ended, back in December, I was going to take a break so I could focus on my overload of courses. I knew I was completing the program in one calendar year instead of two years, so I had to take as many credits as possible at once. Then, when I was offered an internship at Group Commerce, I reconsidered, knowing it was an opportunity I couldn’t refuse. Again, I had another Why Not? moment.

I’m usually not one to second guess myself, but I am glad, once again, that I didn’t listen to my silly plan.  My time at GC, which sadly, ended today was not only one of the most fun I have ever had at a job, but it was an amazing learning experience. A day would never pass without my boss. Josh, teaching me something new (and something I could never learn in school.) He would also constantly task me with projects I had never done before without worrying about my capability because he believed that I could do it, and do it well.

(That image is of Josh at the GC table at the Daily Deal Summit. He put me in charge of it’s setup! Something I had never done before. Apparently, we had the best table there…)

Josh really instilled a sense of self worth for my future career and I know it is an invaluable lesson that I will take with me for the rest of my life. I am actually devastated that I had to leave GC and all the amazing people whom I worked with. They all made me feel so at home and so valuable; more so than I bet any unpaid intern has ever felt before. It was an amazing experience that I am glad I did not pass up.

I had originally planned to keep to myself because I knew that if I met new people or got involved in something new, it would be a difficult to say goodbye. I have been a part of so many organizations, had so many jobs, and met so many people that I had learned to dread the parting of ways. Once again, I am getting ready to leave a group of amazing people that I have met and I am crushed to have to do it. I had hoped to leave NYC without any sadness, but unfortunately, that will not happen.

As hard as I tried to keep to myself during my time in NYC the good people still managed to force their way into my life.

And, man, I am happy they did.

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Human Stuffed Animal

April 24, 2012 By

If you follow me on Twitter, you may have noticed me mention that today was another battle between me and the scalpel. Surprise surprise- I had to have yet one more surgery done today for the same issues I’ve been having for months.

Luckily, this time was the most minor of all the surgeries I have had done and there doesn’t seem to be any residual side effects.

Since it was so minor, I was only given a local anesthetic in the area. I was nervous because I hate the feeling of those numbing needles. They sting much stronger than a regular needle, and the area was already sensitive. With the doctor’s gentle touch, thankfully, I hardly felt a thing.

That’s the beauty of a local anesthetic; you know the doctor is doing his thing because of the pressure you feel on the area, but it doesn’t hurt. I was pretty calm throughout the whole process because I couldn’t feel it, and I expected not to feel anything at all. I was relaxed. It was nice.

That was until I felt a strange tugging sensation. Not that it hurt, but it felt like my skin was being moved in a weird motion.. almost like… I was being sewn up.

Now I don’t know if you’ve ever had stitches done (or stitches done while you were awake) but this was the first time I’ve had them done (awake). It was, by far, the most awkward and strange feeling I’ve ever felt. Not only did I feel uncomfortable, but mentally, I felt a little violated. There I was, just lying on the table, like a human stuffed animal being sewn back together after a bratty two-year old has ripped my arm off. I could feel myself being repaired.

Now, that is a very strange feeling.

Currently, I am in no pain. Am I still numb? Probably. I don’t anticipate it being that bad later tonight.

I just can’t shake  the feeling of me lying on the table like a broken object being sewn back together. It’s weird.

Right?

Is it crazy?

Am I crazy?

Probably.

I don’t like stitches.

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Got any crazy stories about that one time you had to get stitches? How did you get them? What did it feel like to be stitched up? Did you feel like me? (Or am I really, actually crazy?)

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How Early Is Too Early To Start A Countdown?

April 18, 2012 By

Apparently 2 weeks is not too early.

I have officially begun my countdown, starting today, which means I only have:

Countdowns are often associated with dates that bring happiness and excitement like Christmas, New Years, or birthdays. This countdown, however, brings some mixed emotions. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am ecstatic to be moving back to Toronto, but I am also a little bit sad that my time in NYC is almost over.

It’s hard to believe that I have already spent almost 8 months in this city, especially as I feel I have so much left to do here. I still have places to see, food to eat, work to be done, shopping to do, and people to hang out with. Alas, I will save all that for another post.

Today’s post, however, is to celebrate the 2 week mark of when I officially move back to Toronto and into an apartment with  my boyfriend.

Yup. You heard it here. I am moving in with a boy. A boyfriend. Real. life.

I know this may come as a shock to a lot of people because I haven’t really brought you into the relationship that I have with Rob. After the entertainment that was my last relationship, which you were all invited to read about, I decided that I was going to keep our lives between the two of us. Maybe it was a maturity thing? Maybe it was because of how much I care about him. Maybe it was because I didn’t want to mess it up. Not to mention, this relationship has been essentially drama free, so there hasn’t even been anything entertaining to blog about (Thankkkkfully) and, well, long distance didn’t give me much to talk about either. All I can really say on the subject is that we love each other and now we’re moving in together.

Well, that’s all I can really say right now.

In 2 weeks, I will be entering uncharted territory. I have no idea what to expect, no idea what will happen, and have no idea what kind of crazy adventures the two of us are going to have. All I know is that I am unbelievably excited and you’re probably going to get to read a lot about it.

I have a lot to focus on in the next 2 weeks before I move back to Canada. I am stressed with finishing my school work, I am sad to be leaving some amazing people, and am really upset about having to be leave my job. Though, however fun NYC has been, it is time to look towards an awesome future.

Did I mentioned that this is the view from our new apartment window?

Ohh yeahhhh

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10 Things I Couldn’t Live Without

April 14, 2012 By

So remember when I said I was going to try to challenge myself at this whole WEGO Health Activist Writer’s Month Challenge thing? And remember when I said I was really going to try to keep up with it? Well, besides the fact that I realized you would all be very annoyed with a blog everyday (let’s face it, you like to see them here and there, not all the time), but my life, over the past week has been thrown for a little bit of a loop.

I am not going to get into any details except to say that I am living out of a suitcase in NYC for the next 3 weeks before I move back to Toronto. I’m basically counting down the days until I move back for a number of reasons that I will share in a more exciting post.

In the meantime, this post is actually to get myself back into this WEGO HAWMC challenge. Yes, I’ve clearly already failed at it-horribly-but I’d like to at least give it another go. It’s only been 13 days into the month, after all..

Well, really, the reason I wanted to post another one of these blogs is because today’s topic is actually currently relevant to my life. As I said, I’m living out of a suitcase and have realized how necessary certain items can be. Well, today’s topic is about the 10 things you couldn’t live without, and within the past week, I have become extremely aware of what those things are. So, to take another stab at this blogging challenge, here are the 10 things I couldn’t live without:

  1. Ostomy Supplies. Duh. But like-really. If I didn’t have ostomy supplies with me, I basically would not be able to function/leave the house. My fellow ostomates out there know EXACTLY what I mean.
  2. Cell Phone. I know this is a very #firstworldproblems kind of necessity, but honestly, I couldn’t live without it. Between connecting with my groups for school projects, to emails about work, to simply feeling safe on a walk home late at night in NYC- I need my cell phone. Of course, I also need it to talk to the people I care about most, and without my cellphone, it would be quite difficult to do so. [Pay phones, you say? If you can find me one within 2 miles of where I am right now, I will give up my cell phone for a week.]
  3. Clean Water. Is this too obvious? Or not obvious enough? Again, another #firstworldproblem thing… But seriously, I am blessed to live in a part of the world where clean water can be accessed everywhere, yet it is still a necessity to me. Not only is water essential to life, it is even more essential to those without colons who can’t absorb it from food. Water=life.
  4. Cereal. Of course, if you need water, you need some sort of food. If I had to live off one food forever, it would definitely be a cereal; a good cereal too, like Kashi cereal or something with protein. Not only is it easy to digest, but it can fill you up. Pair a bowl of dry Kashi Go LEAN cereal with a nice tall glass of water and I have everything I need to stay alive. I could do it.
  5. A Sweater. For some reason, I am perpetually cold. Maybe it’s the ice that runs through my veins, or maybe it’s the fact that I don’t have enough internal organs to keep me insulated. No matter what, I am always cold at one point of the day. A sweater is a necessity.
  6. Shoes. Well, if we’re getting technical,  you always need a pair of shoes.
  7. Sunlight. Sun makes me unbelievably happy. Put me in that ray of vitamin D at least once a week and I’m good to go. I never appreciated how much I needed the sun until that one summer where I worked at Hollister in the mornings and a restaurant, that was dimly lit without windows, at night. Sun is essential.
  8. My Brain. This too may seem a little strange, but to me, it makes perfect sense. If I did not have the capacity to make decisions, make conversation, take in knowledge, or teach knowledge, there would be no reason for me to be alive.
  9. Passport. Just in case.
  10. And last but not least: The Ones I Love. In my short 22 years of life, I have experienced enough hardship and tragedy to realize that the only things that really matter are thepeople who you care about and who care about you. I could do without the sweater because I would have someone to hold me. I could do without the sunlight because I could have someone to make me smile. I could do without the passport because there would be no need leave the person I care about. Loved ones are the most important part of life, and I couldn’t live without them.
The next little while will be difficult here in NYC, but not impossible. I have cereal, I have water, I have ostomy supplies, I have a sweater and my  cell phone- I have the things I need to function. At the moment, I am not in the ideal situation, and I am definitely not happy about it. However, what is keeping me going through all of this is knowing that, once this ordeal is over, I will get to be with the people who love me and whom I love back.
In the meantime, at least I have a pair of shoes.
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What are the 10 things you couldn’t live without?

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One of the Eleven Best Crohn’s Blogs of 2012

April 9, 2012 By

A few days ago, I received a little note from healthline.com that had informed me that UO had made the top 11 list of the best Crohn’s blogs of 2012!

This came as a bit of a shock to me for a number of reasons:

  1. I talk about my ostomy more than my Crohn’s disease
  2. I didn’t know someone from HealthLine was aware this blog existed
  3. I had no idea this blog would ever make a top-anything kind of list!
Needless to say, we made the list. I am completely shocked and delighted.
This marks another for bringing the ostomy into the mainstream spotlight!
Couldn’t do it without you guys, you are the best!
[Feel free to share the link with all of your friends ;) ]

 

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Time Capsule

April 1, 2012 By

I tweeted a little while ago that I had been invited to participate in WEGO Health’s Health Activist Writer’s Month’s Challenge. I was a little shocked that I had been found, let alone invited to participate, especially since as I actually made my profile for the challenge, they didn’t have an option for “ostomy” in their drop down selection of  topic for my blog. Nevertheless, I thought I should sign up and see what this thing is all about.

From what I’ve gathered, the challenge is to write a blog based on a specific topic they give you, everyday. Will I be able to write a blog post everyday? Considering that it’s crunch time for my last full semester to get my M.A at NYU, probably not. Will I try? Hell, yeah. Nothing like a challenge to pump the adrenaline.

So over the next month, I’ll be trying to keep up with their blog topics. I will be challenged to actually write about what they‘ve asked me to write about, as opposed to writing about my life- which is just sooo much easier.

I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Here is the blog topic I was given for today:

Every life has a story. But often the most well-preserved stories are those accompanied by physical objects and visuals. In this year’s kick-off to HAWMC, create a time capsule of your stories, your life. Will your time capsule be a physical box or a collection of writing or visuals compiled in a digital format? Where would you hide your time capsule? What is inside your capsule (memorable objects, photos, advice), and what stories do the contents tell? Who do you hope will one day find your stories and what do you image they will think? Will your stories ever be on display or will they have a different purpose?

I’ve never made a time capsule before (or I have and have forgotten about it…) so this was an interesting thought for me to think. What matters most to me? What are the most influential moments of my life?

At first, I assumed that this question was asking me about my life in terms of my disease and what I would put away to remember that time. I immediately thought that my box would actually be made out of an empty TPN IV bag, as it was the symbol of my entire time struggling with Crohn’s disease in and out of the hospital. I had been in and out for 2 years, with most of those years being hooked up to an IV pole of TPN because I wasn’t allowed to eat. At one point, I even had this pole at home and had to hook and unhook myself from it (with the help of my parents) every night. I then thought I would include things like a Push Pop, one of the lollipops that were kept in a plastic tube that you had to push up. They were delicious, especially as they were one of the few things I could “eat” while I was sick. I thought I would also include a mini ostomy bag, of course, signifying surgery. I also thought I would include a picture of 6A, the floor at Sick Kids hospital that I resided in. And lastly, I thought I would include one of the hospital bracelets I have somewhere saved in my room, which I supposed I have saved for this reason.

After thinking about my time capsule and beginning to write it out, I realized that this blog topic wasn’t asking about the story of my illness, but it was asking about the story of my life. As most of you know from this blog, my sickness, nor my ostomy, are in any way my life, but are simply small elements of it.

I realized there is so much more I would put in my time capsule. In fact, I would even change the physical element of my time capsule. I quickly changed my mind from the IV bag to a small metal safe- both for resistance to the elements, and so that I could lock it  (logical, right?). I thought I’d bury it in the backyard of my childhood home so that I could find it sometime when I’m old. It wouldn’t be on display- it would just be for me. I’ve got my blog as my display.

As for contents, I knew I would put all of those things I had mentioned above, signifying my struggle with Crohn’s. However small part of my life it was, it was extremely influential to the person I am today. And yet, there is so much more that makes me who I am; so many people, places, and experiences.

Thinking back to these memories, I began to envision what I would include. I started thinking about including a pair of dancing shoes, from all the years of dance I enjoyed. I thought I’d also include a yearbook from my grade 8 class, as it was the last piece of my elementary school education and it took up 12 years of my life. I thought I’d include a pictures from all of the school plays I participated in, in high school, as well as cd’s with recordings of the songs I had sung in vocal class and choir. Obviously I knew that I had to include pictures of my friends and I from high school as well, especially since they some of the most important people in my life, who I fact, still keep in close contact with.

University is the most recent but most memorable time of my life, so I knew there was much to include from then. I thought I’d include pictures from my experience in university residence, my apron from working at the campus restaurant, and an essay I had written for one of my last classes. I’d include pictures of my friends and having ridiculous amounts of fun for no apparent reason either at the bar, or at a friends pool. Unfortunately, I don’t have any pictures from our study sessions. which were when we really bonded, but I may have some study notes I’d include in there as well as a reminder.

My sorority was also a big part of my life, so I knew I’d have to include my bid card (invitation to join), as well as the composite picture where I am president. I would also include pictures of some of the greatest memories of my time there, such as pictures of parties, sisterhood events, and philanthropic events like the bone marrow drive we ran in memory of my dad.

I would of course, include things I had from my dad, such as his cologne that I keep on my dresser at home to remind me of him. I would also put one of the favorite pictures I have of him and I, where he’s holding me at less than 1 years old. I would also include a couple of random toys that my brother and I used to play with as children such as lego and playmobile. And I would include the hotel room key from the time my Mom and I went to Vegas, back in 2010. I would include the birthday card that my boyfriend gave me and a picture from one of our happiest moments. I would also  include a couple of old pieces of jewelry  from my deceased grandmother, and recent pictures of me and my living grandparents.

I would include maps and ticket stubs from my backpacking trip to Europe. I also thought I would my student card from NYU and an I <3 NY tshirt to signify my time living in the city…

..Maybe even my beloved stuffed animal Mr. Wrinkles who I’ve had since I was 1…

As I went on and on thinking about all the things I would put in my time capsule, I realized that there are so many memories from so many people in so many places that I want to remember. I don’t think there is any way I could actually put enough away to remember it all.

One thing I have learned in my short, 22 years of life is that the moment is really all you have. While memories are great things to think about, that’s all you can do with them. What matters is enjoying the moments with the people you love before they become memories, because once you have the memories, the only place they can go is in a time capsule.

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What would you put in your time capsule?

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This Would Happen..

March 27, 2012 By

This time, the surgery wont hurt. I’m so positive! It was so easy last time, this will be nothing! 

Next time,  someone needs to remind me not to be so flippant about surgery.

Turns out, this time around, it wasn’t so easy.

This past Friday, I walked into the surgeon’s office to have a smaller, yet similar, surgery than I had done a few weeks prior. This time, the surgery was simply to fix up a few little issues that had occurred since the last one so it wasn’t supposed to be such a big deal. I was confident that I would be fine. I get put under the anesthetic without a single worry in my mind.

A little while later, I awoke from surgery for the first time and ask the surgeon to explain what had happened. I immediately forgot as I passed out again from the general anesthetic that was still in my system. I woke again, and asked him to explain it to me once more. Of course, I forgot again, as I pass out for the second time. As I finally awoke the third time, I asked him (sheepishly and apologetically, since I was aware that he had answered me twice already). He explained to me that he had to do a little bit more than anticipated because the issues were a little more serious than he had thought.

Alright, well, as long as everything’s cool than, whatever, he did what he had to do.

I stayed completely awake after he explained the situation to me for the last time because I suddenly started to notice how much pain I was in. I asked the surgeon’s assistant why, this time, I was in so much more pain than the last. She explains to me that they didn’t think they needed to put any pain medication in my IV since they didn’t think this particular one worked for me. Apparently, it did, because this time I was in an insane amount of pain. I was given an oral version to quell the pain as I left the office for home.

As like last time, I had to make a pit stop at the drug store to pick up some post-op medication and supplies. It is as soon as I get out of the cab and walk into the drug store that I really realize how much pain I’m in. I’m in so much pain that I can barely stand and I am literally shaking. I was wearing a big dress so I can only imagine that must have looked as if I was going into labor or something (aka- ridiculous). I go up to the pharmacy counter and ask them to fill my prescription ASAP. 10 excruciating minutes later, they call my name. Thankfully, one of my prescriptions was for Tylenol 3′s (one of the very few narcotics that actually work for me since my Crohn’s hospital days) so I pleaded with the pharmacist to grab me a drink so I could take a pill right then and there. (Not sketchy at all…)

I make my way home in another cab, which cost about a total of $3, so you can tell how close I was to my home. However, I was in so much pain that there was no way I could walk. I get to my apartment and crawl to my couch, shaking, and in tears.

This was much different than it was the last time, so I figured it best to call the surgeon. Eventually, I’m told to make my way back to the office because something may be wrong. Within 30 minutes of speaking to him, I made it back to the office, barely able to walk through the door. Sure enough, something had happened and he needed to give me a local anesthetic and get back in there.

I was sent home, once more, and plant myself on the couch in front of the TV. As the hours go by, it really doesn’t feel like the surgical area is getting any better- in fact, it feels worse.I emailed him again and he told me to meet him at the office early Saturday morning.

7:30am, bright and early, I meet him at his office and he opens me up once more, again, with the local anesthetic. He takes a look and informs me that  there didn’t seem to be much of anything wrong with the incision areas, so he sent me home to go back to sleep. It was a wonderful sleep. I slept until about 3pm and then planted myself in front of the TV, once more, for the rest of the day. I wasn’t really able to move, so I didn’t. I also wasn’t able to get very much done while my head was fuzzy from t3′s, so, you guessed it- I didn’t.

Sunday morning, I woke up hoping to feel better and be able to be more productive. Of course, knowing me, I wasn’t. I woke up to a fever, chills, nausea, and more. Every Crohn’s patient knows that fevers mean infections, so of course I was extremely worried. I emailed the surgeon once more, and he called me right away. After speaking on the phone, he said it didn’t sound like anything was related to the surgery and that he would see me the next day anyways. I trusted his opinion and spent the rest of the day in and out of consciousness (in front of the TV of course) and still not getting anything done. If you know me, you know how much I hate not getting anything done.

Today, I made the trek back to the office for the 4th time in 4 days. I walked in and the first thing his assistant said to me was, “Well, you don’t look good.”

No, I definitely did not look good. After a weekend of pain and sickness and, essentially, immobility, I definitely did not look my usual self.

I get into the office and once more the surgeon decided to get back in there to take a look. He wanted to be certain that there really wasn’t anything going on. After a good 40 minutes on the table, he confirmed that there wasn’t anything to worry about and that from here on out, I should just be able to heal.

After a long, longgggg weekend, I finally feel better. Well.. better-ish. Not like I’m dying anymore. I feel like I felt after the surgery the last time. So, essentially, I feel like I’m ready to heal.

I guess I may have gotten a bit ahead of myself with the whole “surgery is nothing” mantra in my previous post. I was so happy with how easily the surgery had gone the last time, that I really did not see this coming. If I had, I may have stocked up on a few more groceries… I do want to say though, that I’m not knocking the positive attitude. It definitely helped me the day of because I wasn’t nervous! Now that I feel better, and I think all the issues that could happen, have happened, I know that the rest of the healing process wont be a big deal. Right? Right.

….

This would happen to me.

—————–

Readers: what are some of your ridiculous “this would happen to me” post-op stories?

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