Asking for help is a GOOD thing.

I am seriously using EVERY SINGLE TAG I use for this, because this is important. A cry for help should not EVER be ignored, and the person ASKING for help should never be made to feel like they are somehow LESS for NEEDING that help.

If you are shot, you go to a doctor. If you break an arm or a leg, you go to the doctor. You don’t feel ashamed for needing help THEN, why should you when the pain is INSIDE you? When it is a literally LIFE THREATENING injury/illness? And yes, people, it IS life threatening. Or do you think they were just playing with the noose around their neck? Or the bullet hole in their head? Or maybe the slit wrists and the mountain of fucking pills in their stomach.

SERIOUSLY PEOPLE.

Do you know WHY so many people don’t get the help they need? Because there are dickholes out there who are mocking them. Who dismiss the cries for help as a “phase” until the person finally gets to the point where they think “why bother?”

And then those same assholes have the nerve to say “I don’t understand…what happened?”

YOU happened, asshole. You and the rest of society who have pushed them down one too many times, without even a backwards glance, much less a helping hand to get them back on their feet.

Their blood is on YOUR hands. And don’t you EVER fucking forget it.

 

**Note: To those of you who actually reach out to those who need help, this is NOT directed at you. And please, never change that part of you. We need more people like you.**

First off… no one panic, I’m not suicidal. Yes, I get down and feel like wtf is the point at times. I hate having to work when I know life is short and I’m not happy at my job and I keep thinking.. no one cares. If I died tomorrow, there’d be some poor schmuck […]

via Suicide… 4 words: Listen, I need help! — Kawanee’s Korner

Eye see what you did there…

Sorry for the lack of update yesterday. The past two days have been very busy for me.

So, went in for my appointment with the doctor on Wednesday to discuss the MRI results. That was fun. I got to harass Mr. Villian Voice, and watch a standoff between a patient and one of the nurses.

Apparently he thought he was there for surgery, but it was just a checkup. He made the mistake of getting beligerant with the head nurse. She shut him down quick. “I am the RN team leader here, and you need to speak to me with respect.”

He left in a huff, but that’s what you get for being pissy with a nurse.

Anyway, they called me in, we all looked at the MRI. I saw my brain on a screen and completely geeked out on the poor doctor. He was laughing at me, but I don’t care. I told him “it looks all wrinkly.”
him: No, it looks normal.
me: I’m pretty sure that’s the only time that word has ever been used to describe my brain.

Entertained the nurse who was trying to take a picture of my eye. The camera was on, but she wasn’t looking at me, so I started dancing around. She happened to look up at the screen, “are you playing with my camera?” Busted~ She walked by me about an hour later, just shaking her head. “Girl, you crazy.” That woman has no idea, rofl.

So, onto the tumor:

So far, everything looks somewhat good. The main doctor said that he think it’s either one certain kind of tumor, or another (there’s a bunch of different kinds).  One is really really bad, the other is somewhat okay. Because there is a distinct lack of pain, he believes the tumor to be the “okay” one.

That doesn’t mean that I am safe, but it’s still good news.

Surgery has been scheduled for Wednesday, but I won’t know what time until the day before. I’ve been told to expect the whole thing to take about 6 hours, but depending on how it goes, I might end up staying overnight. I’ve had to arrange for time off from work and school both, since I’ll be out of it on pain meds for the first couple days, and my eye will be swollen shut. It wouldn’t be so bad, but since I’m functionally blind in my right eye, and this surgery is being done on my left eye….yeah. Ugh.

I spent just about all day yesterday on the phone with school, financial aid services for the surgery (I was approved, yay!), and the hospital in general (all while doing homework assignments that were due THAT DAY. Fun times. Just….So. Much. Fun.). I had an appointment today for the pre-op anaesthetic testing. I thought there was going to be a bunch of tests, but it was just an interview.

My family should be heading out this way on Tuesday, so they’ll be here for the surgery. I guess they’re going to try and help out with the kids while I’m recovering. The manager at the gas station job told me that I am not allowed to come back to work until the doctor says it’s okay. The doctor said I’ll need about 10 days, and warned me that I’ll be bruised from forehead down to my neck/chest area, so if I didn’t want people to see me all messed up, I would need to make arrangements. I don’t care if people see. If they have a problem with the way I look, that’s their problem. The hell if I’m letting them try to make it mine.

All that being said, I will update “Say ‘No’ to Zombies” on Monday, but I’m not sure about the following week. It will depend on how the surgery goes. Some of the risks of the surgery include double vision or loss of vision for the rest of my life and/or the eye, itself. The doctor said he hasn’t had anyone lose an eye yet, and he believes that I won’t have any issues, but he had to tell me about them, for just in case.

Fingers crossed, people. If I loose the ability to read, I will loose my fucking mind.

Heart Song

I think it’s funny that we fit so well together.

We’re worlds apart, but when you put your arms around me, my head fits just perfect underneath your chin, and the space between you and I fades like it had never been there at all.

Then at night, you curl yourself around me, my security blanket against the world. I sleep deeply and my dreams are never less than peaceful when I feel you strong against my back. I love those nights, don’t get me wrong.

But sometimes…it’s your head under my chin as you listen to my heartbeat and I feel you trembling against my skin.

I never know what to say on those nights; so I just stroke your hair and brush kisses and whispered “I love you”‘s across your eyelids and face until you finally fall into your restless dreams.

And it is on those nights, while I wait for sleep to claim me too, that I wonder if you only hear a normal heartbeat, the same that a doctor might, or do you hear the song my heart sings only for you?