Recovery Room.

Hey y’all!! I know I haven’t written in a while. Sorry, it’s just been a crazy past six weeks or so. I’m actually a week post-op from having surgery When I say it hasn’t been a fun six weeks, I mean it’s been hell. Literally, hell. So yeah, about a month and a half ago, out of nowhere one day, I just started having these really bad pains in my right side. Wouldn’t go away for nothing. And trust me, I tried everything in the world. Moving hurt, breathing hurt, laying down hurt–heck, I even tried laying upside down for a good half hour or so–nothing worked. Painkillers are already part of my little repertoire of meds that I take for my headaches, so I even tried them–nothing. When it didn’t go away after a few days and the pain was literally so bad that I couldn’t keep anything down, my mother insisted I go to the ER and get checked out. I figured it was, at most, like a kidney infection–something of that nature. Nope. Turns out the meds I’m taking for my lovely headaches from the concussion have been doing a lovely number on my kidneys and my right kidney especially was inflamed and there was a blockage. I much would have rather have had the kidney infection. Anyhow, the doctor tried for a month to treat it with meds–I know right, MORE meds–and that didn’t work. So–I had no choice but to have the surgery.

That was last Wednesday. I literally met with the doctor in his office on Tuesday, he went over the scans and said, nope we’re doing the surgery, and booked me for the surgery the next day. They ended up putting a stent in–which, I don’t know if any of you have ever had a stent in before but let me tell you–it fucking hurts. So, so much. It was worse than the pain that sent me to the ER in the first place. Ten times worse. In addition to my still sore throat from the damn breathing tube they put down my throat during the surgery, I couldn’t keep anything down all week. That’s how bad the pain was. And when I called the surgeon to see if that was normal, he confirmed that it was and told me to just keep talking the painkillers he’d prescribed and that he wanted me to at least stick it out for a week with the stent–give it time to do its job and heal some of the damage the meds had done to my poor kidney. Now, that would have been all fine and dandy–if I wasn’t throwing up the Percocet every time I took it. I was even taking the anti-nausea meds that I already have on hand in my lovely stash of headache meds–and that didn’t even help. On Easter, I ended up in the ER because I was a mess. I was dehydrated, nearly passed out, and in so much pain I couldn’t stop shaking. I just wanted the damn stent out. If I could have taken it out myself, I probably would have. No joke. Anyhow, they loaded me up with morphine–which says a lot because I typically all out refuse the stuff no matter what–Morphine and Demerol, I can’t stand. They make me feel loopy and itchy and like my head isn’t connected to my body. It’s weird. Anyhow. They did scans, gave me even MORE morphine, let me sleep, gave me a nice shot of Ativan, then discharged me. For the first night all week, I actually slept pain-free. Come morning though–the pain was back in full-force.

Luckily though, I had my post-op follow-up with the surgeon yesterday and he took the vile thing out. I think he would have preferred to keep it in a little bit longer, but I was definitely opposed to that so he took pity on me and took it. I won’t go into detail on how they remove those things but I will  say that is one really, really unpleasant experience. It totally weirds me out how nurses and doctors are all so nonchalant about these sorts of things. Like it’s no big deal to have to strip down and get on some table and bare your goodies (LOL) to a couple of complete strangers. And what is it with those same doctors and nurses giving you a play-by-play and making small talk when they’re down there? I mean, really? Come on dude, lady…I know you do this for a living and my goodies aren’t the first or last you’ve seen today, but could we maybe skip the pleasantries? I get that you’re trying to make me feel comfortable and I appreciate the gesture, but if you don’t mind, I think I’m still going to lie here feeling awkward and uncomfortable as hell and looking anywhere but at you, thank you very much. Oh–and while I’m glad your chosen medical specialty fascinates you–no, I don’t want to watch the scope monitor while you uncomfortable (and technically!) violate me or look at that stent from hell that caused me nothing but a week of pure misery. I’m good on both counts, thanks. And sorry for the somewhat graphic little picture there. LOL Anyhow–I’m finally starting to feel like myself again. There’s still some pain–but at least it’s tolerable now. Unfortunately, I have to go for ultrasounds every 6 weeks for the next few months on my kidneys to make sure there’s no lasting damage and that everything’s fine. AND now I have to go back to my GP and see if there’s other meds we can try for these headaches because I’m done taking the ones I’m taking now. I’m sure as hell not going through this mess again because of those meds. Hell to the f–ck no, thank you.

So that’s what’s been happening with me. I swear, never a dull moment in my life. I must be cursed. Or something. ‘Til next time.   —   xoMESSIE


#AllLivesMatter … a poem

This is a little poem that’s part of a photo/road-tripping/city-slicking project I’m putting together for this summer. It’s going to be ahhhmazing!!!


#AllLivesMatter … A Poem

I bleed RED.




I have a purpose on this Earth,

just like you.

I mean something to someone, too.

My life has worth, no more, no less than you.

So let’s put down the guns.

Stop the violence, stop the drugs.

No need to shoot, my hands are up.

Let’s talk this out with words.

Let go of all the hate, intimidation,

and the hundred-year-old fear.

Look in my eyes and there you’ll see the truth.

That the color of my skin does not define me.

That I’m not a threat to you.

You’ll see it doesn’t have to be this way.

That we CAN break this cycle;

go our separate ways.

Live in harmony, live in peace.

This is it.

The make-or-break moment.

After which, we’ll never be the same.

The tie that will forever bind us.

You and I—so different on the outside.

But inside, we’re very much the same.

We break, we bruise, we live, and we die;

It’s a struggle most days just to survive.

We think in terms of what should have-would have-could have beens.

So if we could just put race and the color of our skin aside,

We’d be fine, you and I.

‘Cause we’ve seen how this plays out.

And no one wins in the end.

When everyone bleeds RED.

 – JLR 3.19.2016-

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