Keep it Real, Keep it Moving. Yeaaaah. About that…

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Okay.  I’m pretty sure I’m in some psuedo hell.  Have been for like… a week or so?  I mean, does hell involve dogs that chew up couches, cats that cough up hairballs IN the purse you’re about to use, and children who potty train and then pee on the floor in front of you?  Yeaaah.  It’s been one of those weeks, and I’m having a hard time with it all.

After pouring my heart out yesterday, one of my friends told me that I “just have to deal with it and keep trucking”.  That’s just the point though.  I seriously can’t.  I mean I can, but it’s hard.  I don’t know.  I want to give up.

Yesterday at work I was basically useless. My host took it easy on me, gave me 4 tables and no parties and I could barely manage.  Two separate times, different co-workers found me in fetal position in the back room and hallway.  They saw me fighting not to fall out because of nausea and dizziness.  They saw me have anxiety attacks.  They saw me yell at one of my cooks and my host (psuedo husband- seth) which NEVER HAPPENS.  One of my co-workers apparently caught me rocking back and forth with tears streaming down my face.  She didn’t disturb me, but confronted me later.

Everyone but the Chef from Hell (Kira- the one who makes me homicidal) and the director of dining now know I’m sick, and to what extent.  A bunch of my co-workers confronted me and I explained what Crohn’s disease was.  The statement that put them in shock and made them realize the extent of pain I go through was “You know how I disappear or sit down a lot?”  “Yeah you’re always bending down to do something.”  “Well, that’s when I hurt”.  I explained to these *kids* that I can no longer eat, and if I can it’s with extreme pain.  I explained that I’m constantly in the bathroom and it feels like I have food poisoning everyday.  I explained that I’m sorry that some days I’m bitchy.  Fortunately, despite being sick, I’ve rocked the hell out of this job, and yesterday, was the first time I couldn’t handle it.  I explained to these kids that No, Crohn’s is life long, and that while I can go into remission, I will always have it, and yes, I will always be on meds.

I got mixed responses.  Horror at the fact that I have to live with a Chronic Disease at 24.  Sadness for my pain.  Worst of all was the pity in everyone’s eyes.  That’s what killed me.  I don’t want kids to be pitying me.  I don’t want to be treated different.  I want to be normal.

So they know.  Now I have to sit down with my director and explain Crohn’s Disease to her and hope she understands that despite what it feels like to me, my flares don’t last forever and I really am capable of doing my job.

As for today.  I’m calling in.

I traded voice-mails with my G.I. doctor yesterday.  He’s lucky he’s on vacation for the next two weeks otherwise I’d be halfway to strangling him.  He wants me to go back on steroids despite the risks of being on them (for the 4th consecutive time) for so long.  So yeah, I’ll get right on that.  Anyone have $4,000 I can borrow for my month long prescription (which needs to be carried for 2.5 months)?  He also is worried that the Pentasa (which is my anti-inflammatory drug) is finally building up in my kidneys.  He wants to talk about Remicade as “an easier solution” to my symptoms.  Yeah rack up a few more thousand bucks.  Uh huh.

So 2 years after being diagnosed, this disease is finally diminishing my life.  Something I’ve vowed not to allow to happen.  The fact that I’m turning down dinners with friends, starbucks with my girl, and having problems at work are just the beginning.  I was fine with spending most mornings inside (I get sick more in the morning) but getting bathroom sick at work and out with my friends is not acceptable.  The anxiety attacks that are coming from this are killing me as well.  I barely drove to work yesterday I was freaking out so bad.

My head keeps telling me to fight it off.  To keep on trucking, to not let this whole mess dictate my life, but unfortunately for me, my body is having a hard time keeping up.  Some one with my frame, built like a 5’3” linebacker does not need to be 110lbs.  So while I know in all due reality I won’t give up and I’ll bitch all the way out, it feels like my body is failing me.  You know, I actually had psuedo husband ask “How do you live like that? I’d quit the meds and just live out my life”. The thought has occurred to me, but unfortunately Ceffarino, with out the meds, my life is basically pain.  So there you go.  Chew on that for a while

So I got in another car accident the night before last.  My dad put it best “Holy Shit Sarah, you have the worst luck with cars.”  I was in a right hand turn lane heading north on Rand road trying to turn right on Quentin.  Just coming off of work, and this asshole in a minivan (with his wife and kids inside) cuts me off at a 90* angle trying to get into the turn lane.  My front left part of my car hit his passenger side mini-van door.  I ended up over the curb and he went into the parking lot.  He immediately got out of the car and started bitching about how “I just didn’t see him or what?!”.  Thankfully, as I was on the phone with the local police department, a lady pulled up and offered to be a witness, she heard him trying to pin it on me and she saw the whole accident.  Long story short, he was at fault and ticketed and I went home fuming.  My drivers side headlight is shattered, my hood doesn’t close, my wheel well is compacted which allows for the wheel to hit it.  My drivers side door doesn’t completely close, and the front axle shifted to the left by 2 inches.  I’ll be surprised if they don’t total it, that is if the insurance company stops trying to pin liability on me despite the ticket, cop, and witness.  *rolls eyes*  I’m officially driving a hoopty.

On the lighter side of things, my little munchkin is finally potty training.  She started all on her own.  No accidents in 3 days and I’m pretty sure I’m going to lose my sanity.  But hey, when my gas is supposedly being disconnected today, who reallly wants to spend money on diapers.  LoL (and no, I did pay what I was supposed to with Nicor, I don’t know what crawled up their asses. )

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