Happy Unicorn

Hello!

It has been quite a while since I've posted a blog, but with all this extra time at home due to the current pandemic, I figured now was a good time to get back to it. 

As I mentioned on my Facebook recently, I decided to remove my breast implants and go au natural - that really is more my style anyway.  This has been a long time coming as I have known for quite some time that I didn't like having implants and wanted them out of my body.  I didn't like how they looked, I didn't like how they felt, and most of all, I didn't like how they impacted my upper body strength.  Since I had a unilateral mastectomy, I knew of course that without the implants I would have to have some other sort of reconstruction to create the illusion of 2 breasts - right?

When I was initially going through all of this, I was told that I wasn't a candidate for autologous reconstruction (using my own fat and tissue), but after doing some research, I found something that I would likely qualify for - a TUG flap - Transverse Upper Gracilis flap.  This is an extensive, specialized surgery which would use the gracilis muscle in the thigh, along with fat, to create a new breast.  I did a ton of research on this and was seriously contemplating doing the surgery - it would be a lot but then it would be done, no more implants, no future exchange surgeries, nothing.  The thing was, I was nervous about cutting into my thighs.  I didn't want to mess up my thigh muscle, I had already messed up my chest muscle and didn't need to mess with any other muscles.  I didn't want a huge scar down my inner thigh, I didn't want them to be asymmetrical, etc.  However, I truly thought this was my only option.  The idea of not doing reconstruction was never presented to me by any of my doctors, and it had never entered my mind.

Once I thought about it, I couldn't stop thinking about it.  I did tons of research, looked at tons of pictures, thought of myself without reconstruction, and knew that was the right decision for me.  I was fortunate that the plastic surgeon I went to was accepting of my wishes and did not try to dissuade me, as I have seen many accounts of women receiving push back from their doctors, especially young women. 

Now that I only have the one breast, I am what is referred to in the breast cancer community as a unicorn, and I wear the title proudly.  If I want to, I wear a prosthetic on my right side, but mostly I just go half-flat. 

When I was doing all of my research, I learned about Breast Implant Illness.  This is not really accepted as a thing among doctors, but there are numerous accounts of women who swear that their implants made them sick, and they felt much better when they got them removed.  I related to a lot of the symptoms that these women were describing.  I have felt progressively more unwell throughout the years, and I thought perhaps my implants were to blame, although many of my symptoms did start before my implants.  They certainly worsened greatly since I got them.  Among these symptoms for me were: joint and muscle pain, chronic fatigue, memory and concentration problems, anxiety, depression, headaches, and hair loss.  I was hoping that removing my implants would alleviate these symptoms, but that doesn't seem to be the case.  However, recently I have felt some improvement with some of my symptoms and I think I may finally know what is to blame - iron deficiency.  That is something that I have a lot of thoughts on so I will save that for a separate blog.

Adios for now! <3 nbsp="" p="">
P.S.  I want to mention that I have nothing against breast reconstruction or breast augmentation via breast implants or any other surgery.  I believe everyone should do what they want to their own bodies, and choosing one thing over the other does not make anyone better than anyone else.  However, I do have a problem with the lack of informed consent around breast reconstruction.  I was never presented with the option of going without reconstruction; when I was told I needed a mastectomy, in the same sentence I was told that I would see a plastic surgeon and would have reconstruction and look just like myself again.  Of course, as a 22 year old who was terrified of having to lose a breast, that was an exciting idea for me.  When I talked to the plastic surgeon, I was clear that I was an active person, particularly with swimming, and I was not warned of the affects that having implants placed under the muscle would have on my upper body strength.  I suspect that had I known that my strength would be impacted, and had I been presented staying flat as an option, I may have opted for that initially and saved myself a lot of hassle. 

Random notes on dreams, discernment.

     I went down a rabbit hole this morning on the word "discernment."  I watched two YouTube videos on it.  Apparently, God talks to us in dreams.  I don't know about all that, but maybe.

    I'm at a long table made of wood, kind of dark, possibly stained.  It looks natural.  I see the knots and lines.  There are small, fake plants in white pots.  There is this grand TV screen with pictures of water, boats, Rocks (why did I capitalize that?).

    River rocks.  The dream from the podcast I was listening to yesterday.  She collected river rocks, I'm imagining dark and smooth, flat.  She placed one on each desk as a touchstone to the natural world.  Then, she feared that the building would collapse (these were desks on the top floor of a skyscraper).  This was her dream just before 9/11.

    Wow, right?

    I find dreams so interesting.  I also love the Fleetwood Mac song.  Album?  No, Rumors.  Rumours? I guess it depends.

    Anyway, discernment.  My dream.  "The ability to judge well."  In spiritual contexts is what I'm interested in.  "Perception in the absence of judgment with a view to obtaining spiritual guidance and understanding."

    There's a lot to be said about discernment.  I wonder why I dreamed that specific word?  It was so prominent.  The girl had a look of discernment.  That part doesn't make sense to me.  I would have described it as a look of peace, contentment.  How does one display a look of discernment?

    Later, I was listening to another podcast and I learned that as a procrastinator, my iconic identity is the Sage and discernment is my superpower.  Way to go, subconscious.  I don't really follow, but perhaps more will be revealed.  Perhaps.

Via Transformativa

    I already realized I was a work in progress, but I’m just now realizing how beautiful that is!  Let me attempt to explain.

    I was listening to a podcast (The One You Feed - What Creation Spirituality Means with Matthew Fox) and the guest was talking about the four paths of creation spirituality.  Creation spirituality is about the sacredness of nature and our existence, and the four pathways are the "Vias": Via Positiva, Via Negativa, Via Creativa, and Via Transformatvia.  He talked about how each pathway can lead to the next, and how the Via Creativa acts as a bridge to the Via Transformatvia.

    I've heard all the clichés - you are enough, perfectly imperfect, etc., but I never put much actual thought into them, into believing them.  I struggle with perfectionism, probably to an exorbitant degree as someone with OCD, and I realize that my struggle, my struggles, make me who I am in this moment.  I'm inclined to read back over this blog, combing it for areas where I can reword things or take out a word, but I know it won't ever be perfect.  It doesn't have to be!  This is my craft, my creative outlet.  It is only one of many, I'm fortunate to have multiple creative outlets, but so are we all!  From what I gleaned from the podcast, everyday decisions are part of the Via Creativa.

    The commandment of the Via Transformativa is "Be You Compassionate as You Creator in Heaven is Commpassionate."  I'm not religious, though I spent a few years in college attending bible study.  I needed that at that point in my life, and I will be forever grateful for that experience.  It was an important part of my story.

    Now, I'm spiritual, in the sense that I believe that every person has a Higher Power in them, perhaps their "good wolf" in the parable of The One You Feed podcast.  I've always been a compassionate person, and I'm realizing that is thanks to all my past experiences, the good and bad.  The Via Positiva and Via Negativa.

    Anyway, to the point, I am realizing that I am on this path, and I am living my purpose.  I am a mother, I am a nurse, I am an artist, I am a writer.  I am fortunate to be on this path, even though I have suffered misfortune.  My most notable recent bout of suffering was my time at Sierra Vista, but that experience shaped me into who I am today.  It gave me another layer to my compassion, and it provided me with tools, coping strategies.  The Next Steps program further taught me important lessons, allowing me to tease myself apart in ways that I hadn't ever before.  It also taught me the importance of self-compassion.

    Life is hard.  Motherhood is hard.  I feel like I don't have enough time to do everything I want to do, but I'm realizing I have the same amount of time as everyone else, I just have an uncanny ability to squander it.  Ever since my hospitalization, I have a newfound appreciation for my freedom, and everything that I have, which makes everyday tasks a bit more time consuming.  This means, there is room for improvement!  I bought a timer with an intent to use it for cleaning tasks to keep myself on track, but I still need to set up the system that I want to use.  That can wait, I am still a procrastinator after all.

    I've changed immensely from the person I was when I started this blog, but I am still the same person in my soul.  This blog is aptly named, it is simply the place I can go to speak my truth in my natural format.  I am grateful to be back here. I will never be perfect, and as of now, that is okay with me.

Motherhood changed me, a work in progress.

    I obsessed over the idea of being a mother. For over a decade, I pondered. I watched mothers with young children in the streets. I watched countless YouTube videos on pregnancy and parenting. I’ve worked with children since my teenage years, and I’ve always known that I wanted to be a mother. 

    Nothing could have prepared me for how motherhood would affect me, how it would change me. I love my son more than anything or anyone I’ve ever loved before. This love is powerful, and it brought out my demons that were buried so deep, I didn’t even know they were there. 

    I was not sleeping. I would wake up nearly every morning at 3 AM, anxious about becoming a mother when I was pregnant, and about being a mother when I already was one. Anxious about everything my brain could think of in those middle-of-the-night hours. I was in survival mode, running on pure adrenaline during the day, for I don’t know how long.

 

    Breastfeeding was a journey all its own, one I was nervous about as a woman with only one breast. It was difficult, arduous, but we found our rhythm, my son and me. It was an experience I had to cut short at 6 months, as I was diagnosed with ADHD and felt the need to take medication. And we all know what happened next, those of us who have read my last blog, anyway. 

    I considered saying that motherhood broke me, but I was already broken. I think I knew I was, somewhere deep down. Broken. Now I want to say, motherhood fixed me. That would be erroneous as well, for I am not fixed. I am a work in progress. I got so lost in my role as James’ mom that I found myself at Sierra Vista. I completed Kaiser’s Next Steps program after I was discharged, and I’m continuing therapy and regular psychiatry visits. Now, I’m just trying to take care of myself, and I’m realizing that it doesn’t come as naturally to me as taking care of James does. I would do anything for him, but my cup was so damaged, let alone not filled, that I had to spend a week away from him.

    I’m trying. Trying to honor my soul. Trying to fill my cup. Trying to prioritize myself as much as I can, to do the things that bring me joy and satisfaction. Finding my way back to this blog was monumental in this process, and I plan to continue on this trajectory. Aside from writing, I have other aspirations. I want to get back in shape and get my house in order. I’ve always struggled with having too much stuff, and that became glaringly obvious after having a baby and all of his stuff. I need to declutter, desperately. I’m also trying to carve out an hour in the morning to work out and have some time to myself. I don’t always do it, but when I do, I always feel so good. I’m hoping putting it in writing here will motivate me to do it more.

    Anyway, that’s all for now. Here’s to 2023, the year of me. 

New year, new me.

 11/25/22

I skipped the first page, I’m not entirely sure why.  This is such a mindfuck, my current situation.  I’m writing in this beautiful journal that my husband brought me, with a pen that I hate writing with.  It’s the only pen I can use, only style anyway.  Regular pens are “contraband.”

Am I in prison?  No.  I’m a patient at Sierra Vista Hospital.  It is a locked down facility, and there are cameras everywhere.  For all I know, someone could be watching me while I write.

Anyway, I’m still not entirely sure how I ended up here.  I guess I had a panic attack that escalated, and I was acting out of character? All I remember is having difficulty sleeping, trying to talk to Michael, and suddenly, he was driving us to Kaiser ER.  (Present Michelle adding that he did the right thing by getting me the help I needed, and I thank him for that.)

I’ve gone through such a whirlwind of emotions through all of this.  I have been so confused.  The hours and days all kind of meld together.

When I was still at Kaiser, I got to a point where I thought I must have done something truly horrible.  I don’t want to put it in writing, but basically, I feared the absolute worst.  I’m so glad to know that that did not happen.  As far as I know, my husband and baby are alive and well.

I have so much anger around being stuck in here, away from them.  It is breaking my heart.  Every morning, I’ve been waking up thinking, this is it!  Today must be the day! But alas, it is not.  Seems like the best I can hope for is to go home on Monday.  Today is Friday.  So, looks like home on 11/28 if all goes well?

I just really want to get home ASAP.  I’ve been away from my family for too long.

11/26/22

                Here I am, sometime after 3 PM and before 4.  It is quiet time here at Sierra Vista.  I woke up early this morning, just before 6 AM.  I tried to rest/sleep a little longer, but finally just got up and started my day.

                I’m trying to commit to my life here.  Feels like I’m just going through the motions, but I do see the benefit in it.  In being here.  Kinda… haha.

                I took a full shower this morning, washed my hair and everything.  I had been putting it off, thinking surely, I would be home before I needed to wash my hair.  But, alas, that did not happen.

                I ate breakfast and lunch in the day room.  I went to both groups this morning.  I went outside when it was time, and I talked to a few different people.

                Reaching out and talking to people here is especially difficult for me, because it really does feel like they’re all “in on it.”  Like I’m the main character in this social experiment.  And no matter to whom I try to tell my theory, nothing changes.  So now I’m trying to just acquiesce to my role here, and better myself.  But I already feel great, I just need to see my husband.

              

I’m back, same date.

I feel so frustrated.  I was reading this book, “Illusions” by Richard Bach.  It was a quick read, and it really felt relevant to my current situation.  As soon as I finished it, literally the moment that I closed the book, the on-call doctor wanted to talk to me.  He said I’m doing great, but our conversation was over as soon as I brought up getting discharged.  Because, apparently, nobody else can discharge me but Dr. Lepler.  Not even myself.  So much for the notion that I am my own master, that I am responsible for myself.  Ugh, just so frustrating.

I ate dinner in the small day room, with my roommate and another patient.  I was trying to socialize, but I was having a hard time focusing.

I’m so tired of this.  It still feels like some cruel joke, like a game, and I’m ready for it to be over so I can go home.  I would even drive myself home in the dark if they would let me, that is how ready I am. (I don’t like driving in the dark, it is hard for me to see.)

I wanted to call my brother or Michael, but the phone was tied up.  Maybe it’s free now…

11/27/22

                Humble pie.  That is what I needed, and what I got, being here.  I have lost my in-the-moment vision, but I’m working on it.  Sharpening it.  I have been sooooo caught up in the idea that all I need is my husband, my son, my family.  I NEED them and they NEED me, right?  So, then, why the fuck am I here?

                I’m at a point where I understand the why and how as much as possible without talking face to face with my husband, and I am ok with that.  Because, ultimately, they (the why and how) don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.

                The bitter pill that I’ve finally swallowed is the realization that I have been leaning on my husband too much for my own sake.  And most likely, for his sake, too.  But I AM the one who matters more to me, and right now, I need to focus on myself, away from them.  As difficult and as backwards as it seems, I finally realized it as truth.

                It does still feel like I’m stuck in some sort of game.  Like everyone is somehow here for me.  The conversations I hear, and even the movies and shows on the TV, just feel too relevant.  But that can’t be, right?  And, even if it is, I need to just focus on bettering myself.

 

Present Michelle writing now, I transcribed some of the notes from my time at Sierra Vista.  The bolding effect of “everyone is somehow here for me” was added by present me.  Past me meant it as the delusional thought that I was stuck in a simulation but present me is recognizing it as the truth.  I have so many people in my corner, supporting me, I just have a very hard time asking for help when I need it.

I cringe a bit as I read the words from my past self.  I was incredibly confused by my situation, and I was literally delusional.  I belonged there, in a mental hospital, and at the time I did not understand why.  I now understand why, and I would like to enlighten whoever is reading this.

I have multiple mental health diagnoses.  I was diagnosed with ADHD toward the end of last year, and I was prescribed Adderall.  I was also taking Zoloft for depression.  However, what I did not know, was that I don’t have depression, I have bipolar disorder.  Being on Adderall without also being on a mood stabilizer sent me into a manic episode complete with psychosis.  But wait, there’s more!  Another thing I’ve learned since my release from the hospital is that I also have OCD.

I’ve been wanting to share my story, to put myself out there, in the hopes that it can help even one person.  Also, selfishly, I’m doing this for me.  I am not ashamed of my diagnoses, nor of my time in the mental hospital.  I am who I am, and I am proud.  My diagnoses do not define me, but they do shape who I am.  I’m not looking for judgment or pity, I’m just looking for acceptance.  I accept myself enough to know that sharing my story will help me, and that is enough for me.

Peaceful Vegan

              I have been eating 100% vegan for over a week now.  I decided that I wanted to do a “vegan challenge,” and before I even started, I planned to continue the “challenge” indefinitely.  I had been thinking of going vegan for some time now, I just thought that it would be too hard for me.  Once I finally made the connection, and realized how much I did NOT want to contribute to the harming of any animals in any way, it was actually incredibly easy for me to give up eggs and dairy.  I know that a lot of people don’t understand why I would do such a thing.  People wonder how I could be healthy without eating any animal products.  I have my reasons, and I have done a lot of research.  It actually is possible to be completely healthy and thrive on a vegan diet, and I plan to do it.

              This is something that I am incredibly passionate about, even though it is just the beginning.  I consider myself an animal lover and an environmentalist.  I am passionate about recycling, conserving water, not throwing trash on the ground.  I love all living beings.  I finally feel at peace with myself and my beliefs.  I have felt better this past week than I have in a long time.  I have so much energy, and I am just happier.  I don’t feel like I’m missing out on anything.  Sure, there are TONS of foods that I LOVED to eat before going vegan that I cannot eat now.  I don’t want to eat them anymore.  Anything that contains any animal product, I don’t want to eat.  I don’t want to contribute to the egg or dairy industries.  I don’t want to contribute to animals suffering.

              When I was younger, I didn’t understand why or how someone would go vegan.  I figured being a vegetarian was enough to save the animals.  Giving up all animal products was just extreme.  I’ve finally realized why and how people do it.  And I feel strongly enough about it that I can do it, too.  I thought about going into detail about why I don’t want to support the milk or egg industries anymore, but a quick Google search could probably tell you if you really want to know.  I will say that I think they are cruel and they involve harm to animals.  I’d also like to add that if you’re interested, you should check out the movie Cowspiracy.  It’s on Netflix J

              I do it for the animals, and the people.  I do it for everyone.  I feel at peace. 

overdue update - I got in!

For anyone who doesn't know yet, I finally got into nursing school!  I'm in my 6th week at Sac State, and I love it!  I have learned so much already and had various experiences with patients, including today which was my first time working with an RN in the hospital and taking care of a specific patient.  Other than that I have worked in a Skilled Nursing Facility with a CNA, worked with a Home Health RN in patients' homes, and worked with a CNA in the hospital.  I've also worked in the simulation lab.  I think this is the career for me.

I definitely feel that my past experiences have helped me a lot in this program.  I've had surgeries, I've been in the hospital, I've slept in that hospital bed (and got a horrible night's sleep), I've done the "try to do laps around the nurses station and barely get down the hall a few feet" thing.  I've dealt with horrible nausea and the most intense pain I've ever felt; I've also gotten to feel the relief of the potent Dilaudid, although there were times when the pain seemed unstoppable even with that.  I've experienced a lot of the side effects of surgery and medications that we've learned about.  I've had limited range of motion, being unable to even put on a T-shirt.  I've gone home with drains and had to measure my own output from them.  These experiences have helped when learning about this stuff in school, but they have also helped me relate to the people I am working with.  I have an ability to empathize with them in a way that I don't think is possible without having gone through a similar experience.  Everyone's experience is different, and of course I haven't gone through everything that my patients have gone through, but I can relate on a personal level to a lot of the things I've seen in the hospital.  I'm so grateful for my experiences as a patient, although it was difficult for me at the time.  I am hopeful that they will help me be the best nurse I can be someday.

Okay, that's all for now.  I have a habit of writing these when I actually have things to do.  I got midterms to study for!  Adios amigos :)