And I don’t just mean the tollways. I admit that I didn’t want to go on the trip in the first place because I can’t stand weddings, probably because all we had was a Civil Ceremony, as most of you know.

The six-hour trip to Ames, Iowa, was bad enough, and I don’t think my father-in-law was too happy about us being late for the rehearsal dinner. In fact, Brian missed the rehearsal entirely, and at that point, I began to think that maybe not having a wedding was a good idea, after all. But witnessing all of the decorations, declarations, and so on was too much. The judge never said anything about “these two people” or about love or anything, and neither did my sister or brother-in-law, because who would they be addressing? The waitress at the restaurant my mother took us to afterwards? Also, because Brian was a groomsman, I had to be at the church three hours early, as well, to be part of the family pictures of which I was in all of . . . maybe four?

We didn’t even get to sit together at the reception because he was seated at the head table. Thank God he didn’t have to dance with his ’ho partner or sit next to her. I didn’t leave my chair the entire time nor did I make eye contact with him until towards the end. Fortunately, I was sitting with my in-laws, so that was good.

Near the end of the reception, I began to feel nauseous and yawn uncontrollably. Most people were leaving, anyway, so Brian and I decided to leave (I was talking to him again by then), and I had to run to the restroom because I thought I would throw up. I tried to make myself, because once it actually happens, people usually feel better, but I couldn’t get anything out. The weird thing was that I didn’t feel anxious.

Don’t get me wrong — I’m very happy for my brother-in-law and his new wife. But yes, I was — am — jealous. Still, I soldiered through the day as best as I could, but when we returned to the hotel room, a ton of BPD symptoms burst out of me and I ended up cutting.

I felt suicidal. I felt that nothing in my life has gone the way I had pictured it as a little girl — the mood disorders, disability, ECT, no career. I’d always thought I’d have a wedding ceremony. Even my first husband and I eloped because I wasn’t getting along with my parents at the time. (I get along well with my dad now, but my mom has yet to acknowledge my recent birthday, but that’s another story. Oh, yeah — they’re divorced. That’s why my dad is so much cooler and relaxed now.)

Brian was right, of course — I’d feel better the next day. I did, but the drive back was still stressful. We stopped at an outlet mall and spent way too much, and now we’re paying for it. And I’m literally paying, emotionally, for the entire weekend. But I missed my brother-in-law’s graduation in May, and manipulated Brian into missing it, too. Ain’t BPD grand? I felt that I really owed this weekend to Brian; he has more of a connection to his immediate family than I do to mine.

As soon as we hit the road early Friday afternoon, the high I felt from winning my game Thursday night, that exhilaration and excitement that I’d been holding onto since the 3rd period buzzer rang and that I was hoping would get me through the weekend . . . vanished.

My PCP finally called late yesterday afternoon with good news — nothing’s torn, just some inflammation, possibly tendonitis. He said “activity as tolerated” is OK, but if the pain’s too much I have to back off. That’s the good news.

Meanwhile, I had my first pdoc appointment in possibly over a month, earlier in the afternoon, because they moved to a new building. After taking my usual morning dose of Klonopin and an Ativan because I hadn’t received the MRI results yet, I was still shaking, nauseous, and in tears the entire drive there (even though Brian and I did a dry run on Sunday), and all the way into his office. Even if my knee was totally fine, I would have been anxious anyway, having to go to a new place and because I was supposed to start goalie camp last night, but not that bad.

The bad news is, my knee still tingles and sometimes the pain still shoots from my knee to my ankle when I stand or walk. It isn’t excruciating, but I experience discomfort when I walk. So there was no way in hell that I could have gone to goalie camp last night, doing all sorts of weird knee things that goalies do for two hours, and for three nights in a row? I had to drop out, and this has really depressed me. At least my regular goalie coach on the JIL understood and advised me to rest it and is giving me a full refund for the camp.

I’m going to try out my new knee brace at rat hockey this Saturday, where if I decide to get off the ice after ten minutes, everything will be fine. Anyway, goalies play free, and it isn’t like a game situation. Then I’ll take a week off, but maybe go to noon skate next Wednesday to skate with my pads on and definitely to the JIL on the 20th. Fortunately, it’s every other Friday, which means I’ll probably play rat every other Saturday.

I don’t have a game again ’til the 23rd, when I’ll be subbing for another team, and then another game on the 26th with my own team. I should be going to the gym every other day but using the stationary bike (which I’m getting used to, though it’s hell on my ass) instead of the treadmill and doing my goalie stretches that I always do afterwards, and then doing pilates on the days I don’t go to the gym, along with my goalie stretches. Plenty of stretching, the PCP said.

Of course there’s a caveat: if the pain hasn’t cleared by the time I finish my knock-me-off-my-ass anti-inflammatory that I only take at night, then the next step is physical therapy. Still, it’s better than surgery.

Today should be a pilates day, but I’m still recovering from the anxiety and trauma of yesterday, so I’m just staying home and trying to visit blogs I haven’t visited in a while and play Xbox. Originally, I had planned on doing my pilates, going about my regular day and then some retail therapy, but I didn’t get up until after noon, partially because of the anti-inflammatory and probably because I only got four hours sleep the night before because I was a total basket case about the MRI results. Anyway, it’s just started thundering, so I definitely don’t want to be outside.

I am worried sick about Basil. He began having diarrhea and started vomiting yesterday. His appetite seemed OK, but this morning he vomited quite a bit — and it wasn’t scarf and barf — and I couldn’t find him anywhere. When I did, he seemed pretty listless.

He’s supposed to have a dental tomorrow, but Angelo will have it instead. They both just had their check-ups this past Saturday and both need dentals, but with Basil being in this condition, we’ll just have to wait even though he has the more severe dental problems. Obviously, they don’t want to put him under anesthesia while he’s sick. He even lost some weight since Saturday!

It doesn’t help that my therapist just canceled on me today because she isn’t feeling well, but that’s life. Brian’s working on a huge proposal at work and probably won’t be home ’til midnight. AND I have no Internet at home. We haven’t for a few days, actually, and Comcast can’t come over ’til tomorrow afternoon. I wanted to post about last week’s game, but I left the stupid stats at home, and I’m at a coffee shop.

Plus I just had ECT on Monday and although it took me most of the day yesterday to recover from the anesthesia, I feel better today — just anxious and worried.

We have our creative writing class tonight and I totally forgot that I’m supposed to distribute my piece. I don’t even have one to distribute! Brian can’t go, so I don’t know if I will or not. It all depends on when I can pick up Basil, or if he’ll have to stay overnight.

See? This isn’t turning into just a hockey blog! Heehee. In this post, I’m going to discuss my butt problems and the fibroid. So if you gross out easily, go away and come back when I post my next hockey post, probably tomorrow.

(more…)

I’m exhausted, possibly from dehydration. Saw the PCP and it isn’t the anemia. He doesn’t think I’m getting enough carbs, considering my activity level, so for a week I get to eat one Pop-Tart a day and white rice and pasta! Yay! He also said that stress and tension can add to my exhaustion. He put me on a new Pill called Yasmin that supposedly has fewer PMS side effects, so hopefully that’ll take care of my fibroid worries.

I passed my butt tests with flying colors (heehee). The problem is a loose involuntary sphincter muscle that neither surgery nor physical therapy can cure. One option, which I’m going in for on Tuesday, is to inject (and it better be with a syringe, not a needle) some medication up my butt that’ll create some scar tissue to make the muscle tighter. Don’t ask me how. I just want the fucking thing fixed already.

I’m also playing hockey once or twice a week now, and Brian and I have started a weekly Creative Writing/Beginning Fiction class. Who knew writing would take up so much of my time? The downside is that all of these things are on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays, all in a pretty little exhausting row.

Regardless, I’ve just felt very withdrawn lately and once again, may have to take a short break from the blog world for a bit. Brian may keep you all updated on my progress. I’m one tired gal.