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Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label depression. Show all posts

Saturday, February 20, 2010

happiness vs. heart disease

found this interesting article on the web and thought i would share it with you.
study shows that happiness helps to ward off heart disease. over 1700 people were analyzed in the study and asked to rate their happiness level. during the 10 year span, 145 of the ones who rated high for depression and stress were diagnosed with heart disease.
though it cannot be absolutely proven that being happy will prevent heart disease, it will allow you a better life.
so like the song says "don't worry, be happy"

Monday, April 20, 2009

How Much is Too Much?

i apologize in advance for this post, but it is something i need to get out of my system.
i am way too depressed to do any research and lately i haven't even had the will to fight anymore. i did everything the doctors said to do and yet i still have complications. the pain is now spreading into my legs and it is not arthritis. it is a sharp, sporadic pain in the bones.
the business that bela runs in about to go bankrupt and i still am unable to get a job. recently, my teenage daughter and i have had problems and haven't spoken.
how much more can one person take? what is the point of surviving cervical cancer if life keeps beating you down? i'm at the point where i surrender..i throw in the towel. something has to give soon or i'm not going to make it.

Friday, March 13, 2009

M.S.A.T.H...Part 6...Tuesday

ok, just thought i would warn you that this will in fact be a long post. this was the day of surgery and my nervous breakdown (to put it mildly). however, you will get 2 pictures and a few links with this post.......so here we go.

Tuesday morning began abruptly and precisely at 6:00 am (as did every morning after that). We were awakened by the nurse (to whom i like to refer to as Brunhilda) flipping on all of the lights and yelling "dobro jutro", though she did not sound as chipper as one normally sounds when saying good morning loudly. She then handed each of us a thermometer and left the room. 10 minutes later, she returned like a drill sergeant, ordering us out of our beds and to line up on the other side of the room. After a long speech to us, which i didn't understand, she made the beds and left. Now, when I say "she made the beds"..I refer to just folding down our blankets to the bottom of the bed (as if we were done with them) and straightening our pillows. I will get into the sanitation of the place later on.
Anyway, 15 minutes after Brunhilda left, I went in to take a shower. I dried myself off with a shirt (there were no towels, remember?) and then laid in my bed waiting for the time to pass. It was a very long morning since I was not allowed anything to eat or drink and that included water. Though the one women in the room, was allowed, so we (Kristina and myself) watched her eat. I will get into the menu and nutritional aspects of the meals later on as well.
Finally, around 10:00 am, Brunhilda came to get me and Kristina and took us to pre-op. As we walked down the halls (there are absolutely no wheelchairs..not kidding), I could feel the anxiety start to build within me. We arrived in a room with pre-made beds and we undressed and laid down in our individual beds (i should be thankful that we didn't have to share one). Brunhilda left and 2 other nurses came in and covered me with a green paper blanket and place my hair in a green paper hairnet (at least I matched) and wheeled me in to a room right outside the operating room. The one nurse gave me a little blue pill, which I later found out was a pain pill called "Ketonal" (though it would have been nicer to have the little blue pill from "The Matrix") and prepped my veins for the IV needle.
They stuck a needle in my hand 1st and it hurt a lot. I'm not sure if they missed or what, but they had to try again. So the nurses (and I actually mean morons) chose a spot directly above the 1st and of course, something went wrong. By that time I was in tears. Let me briefly explain to you my pain tolerance. Last June, I had fractured a rib and still moved about and never took a pain pill. I have had many bad relationships and am accident prone as well. So in the course of my lifetime, I have had broken ribs, fractured ribs, been in a fire (as you will see from the picture of my hand), fell down numerous flights of stairs, had my head put through a window, and have been sideswiped by a drunk driver while I was driving a taxi...just to name a few. So my level of pain that I can tolerate, is pretty high. The needle freaking hurt like Hell.
The 3rd attempt was apparently a charm as they stuck the needle in the inside of my elbow and it was pain free at the time. Then it was Kristina's turn to get the IV needle and they actually broke the needle in her hand. She ended up with the IV in the same place as mine. I then turned to her and said "I hope surgery goes better" and she smiled.
They then wheeled me in to the operating room and I heard a nurse say that they had put something in my IV and I would feel very "drowsy?" I'm not entirely sure what she said after the word "very". All I know is that when I heard her, I was staring at the ceiling in the operating room and then I opened my eyes to another ceiling in the recovery room.
I remember when I woke up, a nurse asked how I felt and I told her that I had to "go pee" and she replied "No you don't" and that was it. She took my blood pressure while I was still in the bed they had used for the operation and then I climbed into my hospital bed (not an easy task after having a chunk of your genitalia removed) and was wheeled up to my room. I then grabbed my glasses from the table and saw my right hand. I had 2 puncture wounds from where they had attempted to put the needle (or was attacked by a vampire) and a lump or knot half the size of a golf ball that was purple, green, and black.
Now a golf ball may not seem all that big, but take a look at your hand and imagine shoving half of a gold ball under the skin. Scary huh? I then located my cell phone and messaged Bela to tell him that I was okay. Within the next hour or so, several nurses came in to check on me (though an English speaking one would have been helpful). I asked 3 times to 2 different people about when I would be allowed to eat, drink, or even use the bathroom (I don't care what the nurse said in recovery, I really did have to pee). One nurse answered "sto"..meaning "what" and the other said I was not allowed out of bed for 3 days. No bed pans and not allowed out of bed..this was not going to be a pretty sight.
Around 3:00 pm, I asked a nurse again, if I may use the toilet. She gave me the "1 minute sign" with her finger and at that moment I felt like raising the "not so pleasant sign" with another finger. But I refrained. I then messaged Bela and told him that I wanted to come home. What was the point of being looked after if communication was impossible anyway? A doctor came in about 4:00 pm and spoke a little English, finally. She asked how I was feeling and I told her that I wanted to go home. She said I was suppose to take it easy for 10 days and I said that would be fine. I told her that I did not work, had a live-in boyfriend and had no kids living at home, so bed rest was completely possible. She responded with "You can still have kids". I repeated that I did not have kids at home so I could get bed rest. I even said that I didn't want anymore kids. She then said "You didn't have a hysterectomy. You can still have kids" I must admit, the thought of jumping up and smashing her head against the wall, did enter my mind.
A half hour later, Bela showed up and I told him everything that had happened that day and showed him my hand. Told him I wanted to leave and go home so he went out to talk to someone. He came back and told me that I had to be there for a few days (not sure why, since I read several articles online that said conization was outpatient surgery). That is when I really lost it. I don't think I cried that much since my father passed away. But the real clincher was when a nurse came in about 5 minutes after and took Kristina to go use the toilet and walked out of the room. At that moment, I knew that I was on my own. I stood up out of bed, which was not an easy task, and walked myself to the bathroom to relieve myself of the urine that was still inside of me since before surgery (roughly 7 hours). Bela kissed my forehead and said he would see me tomorrow and left. The rest of the night, I spent crying until I finally cried myself to sleep.

"Right after surgery, you will be taken to a recovery area where nurses will care for and observe you. Usually you will stay in the recovery area for 1 to 4 hours, and then you will go home."

As with any procedure that is done under anesthesia, you will probably need to fast for 6 - 8 hours. You must sign an informed consent form. The procedure is done on the same day (outpatient) and a hospital stay is usually not needed

The mildew on the wall beside my bed. Note that the wall gets darker but the pole stays white:



Picture of my hand 1 week after surgery:

Sunday, January 18, 2009

Is There Life After HPV?

sex life that is.
i was taking a nice hot bubble bath earlier and was feeling really relaxed and comfortable. then i found myself starting to feel depressed. at first, even i couldn't figure it out, but then it dawned on me....my boyfriend was in the living room.
may not sound strange to most of you, but there was a time before my diagnosis that i rarely took a bath without him. then my mind began to race as to trying to remember the last time i had a "real" kiss and not just a peck. by that time, the tears flowed from my eyes like niagra falls.
has HPV stolen my sexuality? will he ever see me as the woman i was before the HPV?
by no means am i blaming him, as no one else should either. this disease is not his fault. i'm the one with HPV...not him. but when will i feel sexy again, if ever?
i read on the internet (as usual) a little bit about this, but couldn't find much on the subject. i guess it is just all derived from personal experiences and not scientific theories based on evidence.
makes you wonder what HPV really stands for. is it human papillomavirus or something else? maybe its Having a Penis Vacation! or Horny Persons Village. either way, i would thrilled to have a little more intimacy than intimidation in my life.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Worried About Surgery

its been a few days since my last post and for that i apologize. i spoke to my doctor on monday and i have an appointment tomorrow to go over the steps we are going to take with my cancer.
i have been depressed and didn't want that to come out in my blog, so i stayed away. as i said in earlier posts, i am an american living in croatia and right now i am worried about the communication difference, among other things. will i be able to talk to the nurses or doctors in the hospital? will they understand me if something hurts? will i be able to understand them when they tell me of my progress?
it may not seem like a big deal to most, but to me it is.
then there is the recovery period. i have never been pampered and i am guessing that that will not change. though, from what i have read, i will be out of commission for a few weeks. i will have to limit physical activity. problem is, i don't think i can. and if i do, then i will have weeks worth of dishes and cleaning to catch up on. should i pamper myself and play catch-up later, or just ignore doctors orders and go about my normal routine?
what would you do?

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Informing Your Loved Ones That You Have Cancer

well i finally got around to telling my family that i have cancer. i didn't want to ruin their holidays so i waited until after to inform them of what was going on.
and, no, they do not read my blog...i didn't tell them i even had one. some things i like to write about and get my thoughts organized before my family knows. that's just the way i am:)
anywho, the questions for today are "how do you tell your loved ones that you are sick", and "do you actually let them know how you are coping with it"?
i guess honesty is the best policy but is that always true?
here's the situation:
when i e-mailed my sister and told her about my cancer coming back and the surgery, she told me that my mother has had heart problems and needs to see a cardiologist as soon as possible. my mother told her not to tell me because i "had enough on my plate". this of course is ridiculous! i thanked my sister for letting me know, but then thought, "i am a hypocrite". i withheld the information because i didn't want to worry them, but then i was upset when they withheld information from me for the same reason.
now, do i actually tell them that i have bouts of depression because of my cancer? or do i tell them i am doing fine and to not worry? would i want the truth from them even if i lie? where does hypocritical start and reassurance end?
it's interesting...i never thought of myself as a hypocrite in that sense, but i guess i am...as are many people. after all, small lies to comfort someone is still, in fact, a lie.

so if doctors take the hippocratic oath, does that mean that the patients are entitled to the hypocritical one?