Still fighting to find my bearings in it all

Something isn't right.  "Something" hasn't felt right for a few years now, maybe since about 2012, maybe 2011.  When things break, the pieces often remain, cutting their way through the soft fabric of life.  I guess I'm realizing I was more malleable than first thought, and the strong, restraining hands of  someone I loved reshaped parts of me that I actually liked.  Not to say I'm not still in here--because I absolutely am.  Such is the part of me that fights like hell to keep me safe, protected from all the hurtful, jagged edges of what's left.  Because.. the parts of me that didn't mold to the whims and needs and demands of that person...shattered.  Where am I?

The barriers I've built around me have protected me in some ways, and they've also crushed me in others; Vulnerability is no longer something I give into.  Instead, I strive to be the strongest I've ever been, though it's not a comfortable posture for me.  So what of the discomfort, then?  It is what it is and it will remain because of my will.  It is MY will that allows or disallows what happens to me as a person, a woman, a friend, a lover, a mom... every facet that makes me who I am is ultimately at the mercy of MY will and no other but God's.  His will is ultimate, but my will is His gift to me.  And no, I'm not going off on a religious tangent.  I'm simply taking responsibility for the damage I allowed others to do to me, and also for my inability to completely regain control of the clanging thought-machine inside me that clatters on and on.

It's just one of those days sitting in the midst of one of those weeks in what I now call one of those lives...

I'm dealing with illness because of the unrest and DIS-ease I've felt for so long, with the majority of it beginning when I blindly walked into a situation I didn't want to recognize for what it actually was.  I fell headlong right into the abyss and hit bottom.  Dammit, but I should have had my own back.  I have a good understanding of this NOW and am being diligent, watchful.  And yet, contemplating what my life is now in the wake of the experiences isn't exactly pretty.  Not at all.

Nothing is improving.  My health continues to worsen, and all the tests I've gone through over the past few weeks, all of the tests I'm going through THIS week will tell me where I am in all of this.  While it may not be the best course of action on my part I will wait for the doctors to render their final diagnosis and allow them to push me in the direction I need to go.  I'm so bogged down in near-defeat that I can't seem to propel myself in the right direction.

I will let the current take me.

PART 2: Priorities Revealed

Assuming you've read PART 1, I won't rehash the entire experience.  And I've spoken of my disappointment (for lack of a better word) in that T has the worst hierarchy of priorities that I've seen in a few years.  And in light of his absence during yesterday's procedure shows me more than ever where he is, who he is, and what he is.

When I was informed yesterday that the procedure I was having was more serious and carries far more risk than 'just' the biopsy I thought I was having, my radiologist asked me if I had anyone there with me.  The fact that I was alone in the section where I waited to be taken to my procedure didn't deter him from asking, because.. after all... I was the only patient there who didn't have anyone with them.

I told him T had dropped me off and went to work;  and he just looked at me for a moment, sat down, and began telling me (using straight-forward language) how "Tricky" the procedure I was going to have, how serious it was, and about the risks involved.  He said if I wanted to call T and give him an opportunity to come back to the hospital so he could be there as it's being done that they would hold off on performing the procedure until he arrived.  The radiologist left the room, and I called T...

T's reaction?  "Well, they have my contact information so that if anything happens they can call and I will come there."

I sat there for a split-second taking in his response, then was filled with the overwhelming need to hang up the phone, to NOT hear his voice at all.  And while this isn't the first time I've felt this reaction, it was by far the strongest I've felt.  I instantly went into self-preservation mode and wanted him nowhere near me.

The nurses, doctors, and other supportive medical staff were the only ones who made me feel like I wasn't completely alone.  I accepted that for what it was and allowed myself to just focus on what was about to happen and put T far, far out of my mind.  In fact, to be honest, he didn't enter my mind at all until at the end of recovery when I was told I was being released.

What does this mean?  That's not a question I'm asking myself, because I already know the answer.  I've been there, done that in the past with someone not giving a crap about my health, my well-being, and diminishing what I was going through or dealing with.  Has society really become a nation of zombies who have nothing but bricks for hearts?  I'm certainly beginning to think so.

I was supposed to go home and rest, not strain myself, no lifting, not even driving.  But T had other plans, ones that made HIS life ultimately easier.  Because that's what it all boils down to.  The aching in my neck and liver had begun, so I prayed that the medication I was given at the hospital would kick in soon and I at least wouldn't be in pain.

A heart cath is scheduled for the 19th of this month (November), and I was given a lab order to get blood work done prior to that day, as soon as possible.  T decided that since I was "Already out and about" that I should go to the lab to get the blood drawn.  I was painful, loopy, tired, and I wasn't at all up to walking through a parking garage and hospital in order to get blood drawn.  I just wanted to go home and rest.  That's all.  Just go home and rest.  But that wasn't about to happen.  T would have his way, and I would simply have to suck it up and deal with the unpleasantness.

This isn't the first time I've been with someone who lacks compassion, but at least I now know how to deal with it while protecting myself at the same time... thanks to a couple of past relationships.  At least I was smart enough to learn from the experiences, and while those lessons were necessary and taught me much, it doesn't mean I'm not feeling the effects of what's happening.

Deja vu.

I'm still processing everything, having just gone through this yesterday.  I've no real thoughts on the matter other than the obvious that one would expect to have after such.

I'll come to terms with things---perhaps when I feel stronger.