Sunday, January 22, 2023

Medical Update: PTSD, diapers, almost diapers, and more!

I haven't given a proper medical update in... months. Honestly maybe even a year. I will be all over the place, but as always, if you have questions, feel free to leave a comment, email me, message me on IG, and I'm happy to do my best to answer them. 

Well, the best way to start the year is with a broken mirror, am I right? Well this was this summer courtesy of Pickles and it is still right there and it is still just as broken. At this point it really just feels like a metaphor for my life, you know? 

Let's talk about PTSD though, because I am finding out that lots of people don't actually know what it is. To be honest, I would have been in that group because when you think PTSD, I think we all automatically think combat veteran struggling when they come home. Right? I remember maybe three months-ish after having Lucy my doctor flat out held my hands and said, "You aren't crazy, you have PTSD. This is normal." I know I huffed, and I refused to believe it. 
Until stupid things would happen and I would find myself struggling, sometimes out of nowhere, and I didn't really have any other explanation for it. I've been in therapy for six full years now and I am able to recognize my triggers, I have coping strategies for different situations, and I also know how to manage my self-talk so I don't get to the point of needing the coping situations, if that makes sense. 

Cue December. 

Olivia and Jackson were finishing up their senior project hours for school, which was them participating in the Penney's From Heaven project. Different businesses in the community have Christmas trees full of tags with items the family(ies) chosen need. It's always a family (or multiple families as donations allow)who have been hit with especially hard times outside of their control. (We were a recipient in 2016, the same year we had Lucy and it's been important to our family that we give back, very much a pay-it-forward for us.)
We bought a lot of items, lots of different tags and I didn't even look at the tags I was picking up. One of the tags was a pack of diapers. Now, a normal person would walk in, grab the diapers, and keep it moving. Not me, lambs! 

Instead, I break into a cold sweat, that turns into a gross, weird sweat, my face, neck and chest turn read, and I start shaking because I feel like my blood pressure is going out of hand. Enough for Jackson to notice and nicely ask what the hell is wrong with me. There isn't anything wrong with me, I'm just freaking out for whatever reason. Baby things are really hard, even still. 
Also hard? The OB office. I hadn't been in here since November 2016, where I had the worst panic attack I had ever had (except I didn't know that's what it was). I learned that it isn't OK to break out in tears and tell people I died having a baby, and that they might die. Yup. I'm not even kidding. 

Fortunately, this time when I had a panic attack, I was steadily going through my coping things and I was able to get through the time in the waiting room. I cried, but quietly, and not to the point that I'd scare anyone. I do need to have a follow up OB appointment but it'll be in a new office so that was officially the last time I would ever see this waiting room. Which is bittersweet. *sigh*

Let's talk adult diapers though. Thankfully, I am not there. My god, I'm only 40, almost 41. I will say that four children has really taken a toll on me but also, the last two were REALLY hard on me and my insides. (I'm not naming anyone specifically, but Penelope was the largest baby, so..) None of my abdominal muscles do a damn thing so it is a surprise to nobody that it is the worst experience having a chest cold when your bladder and muscles have become squatters doing nothing in this house. Every time I would cough, I pee. Sneeze? Pee. God forbid you get the combo of a sneeze/cough, big trouble. I also have no idea where the hell it is coming from because if I pee, you'd think there would be nothing to sneak out, right?? RIGHT?? 

WRONG, loser. Wrong. 

Enter the incontinence pads and the little old lady doing me a solid at Target. Not only did I hear her entire journey from romps in a car with her husband when her hip was still good and he was alive, how she has three children but only one is grateful and in the will, and she's onto full diapers herself, but helpfully pointed me to the pads she recommends. (And then told me to get diaper cream because I might chafe and that it is no fun.) (I did not buy the cream and it was no fun.)

So that's where I'm at now. 

Between that now wishing I took eye serum more seriously in my early 30's because I'm paying for it now, that's for sure. (Get a good serum, ladies! Moisturize your damn face! Wear sunscreen!) My eyelashes are lightening, my hair is changing, my skin is thinning, wrinkles are popping up, and I feel like I'm in that weird zone that people panic in. I'm scared to get old, but I'm also not going to sadly cling to the youth that is packing up and leaving out the door. It's funny how we were desperately to be a grown up and now here we are and we want to stay young. 

Crazy times. 

But stay tuned because this coming week I'm going to update medical stuff by specialty, because I have hit them all, I think. Well, no. But if this was a Girl Scout badge, I'd have a pretty full sash, we can say that. 

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