Sunny With A Chance of France

Sometimes things get crazy. In my life it seems to be almost always. Let's not get too into the crazy just yet, I need some more answers first. So let's start with France. I will let some of the pictures do the talking:

It was an amazing trip until the last day when I got horribly sick. I am still sick actually, going to the doctor to find out what is going on. Hooray. But enough of that, I did find out that my thyroid is okay so that is a HUGE relief. It is wonderful to be home too and to snuggle our pups. I missed them so much!

Hope all is well with you dear chickens. Just a quickie post to keep y'all in the loop. :)





 

So here's the deal...

I am split right now. Super happy & excited on one side, the other side is super pissed off. I can't really put it better than that but I will explain what's going on.

So the pissed side because bad news out of the way leaves time for celebrating the good news right? Well, I am super pissed off at medical billing. For multiple reasons. The first being how am I charged $97,000 for my extensive, 2 surgeons necessary spine surgery and then $200,000 for ROOM AND BOARD? How is Room & Board more than my amazingly crazy procedure to go through the stomach to get to the spine and puts your guts on the table next to you? How is a place to sleep, watch tv, shower, and pee MORE expensive than a surgery with 2 surgeons using high tech expensive equipment slicing open my entire body taking loads of things out and putting them all together and not killing or paralyzing me? HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? Please explain to me how the mark up on my Room & Board could be more than my surgery. I AM PISSED.

I am also pissed because the facility that I paid $3,000 a pop for epidural shots alone (just the physical shot) last year sent a bill I didn't even know about to collection's. Then I had to deal with a debt collector who didn't believe me, call 4 different billing offices for the hospital the pain center is through before I got the right one where the bill was generated from, and spend an hour on the phone arguing about how my computer statement didn't have these charges on them when I just paid it in full (that's right the entirety of the account) back in April. Why weren't these fucking charges there? Why wasn't I sent any notification about this bill being sent to a debt collector? The answer: it's my fault and that they don't have to send a notification out. ARE YOU SERIOUS? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?

I cannot take the medical industry's billing anymore. YOU ARE A SCAM. YOU ARE OVER PRICING EVERYTHING AND SCAMMING PEOPLE. I WILL NOT BE ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE YOU PIECES OF SHIT. I am so pissed off. I hate CAPS but I feel like that's how I'm talking when I talk about all this stuff, in CAPS, so obviously you need to see them too. I am so beyond frustrated about how this is okay. How is it that at 28 years old this is the type of shit that my day to day is filled with? I AM ANGRY.

I am really, really, really, really angry. Really fucking pissed off. FUCK! I call major shenanigans on the whole billing portion of the industry. GO FUCK YOURSELVES. I love my neurosurgeon-he is amazing. I love my new internist-he is amazing. I love my ob/gyn-she is amazing. I like (so far) the specialist I'm seeing for thyroid "cystic nodules" that were found. Oh yeah I didn't tell you about that. That'll come next. I love (or like) all of those doctors. They care about ME. They care about MY HEALTH. They don't (seem to) care about my money. I'm sure they love being paid and they deserve to be but when I see them that is not what we ever talk about unless it's to help me out since I am fucking broke. But the Billing Industry of the Medical Industry. YOU ARE A JOKE. Quit making up numbers to make a 400% profit on something. If a test costs $100 don't charge $3,000! Don't believe this is happening? Read this Times article about how we're all being scammed and nobody is doing anything about it. GAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!! I just can't-I am so pissed off.

The other reason I'm pissed is another piece of my body seems to be failing. I have 2 nodules that were found on my thyroid. The ultrasound reading said they were cystic, the specialist I am seeing doesn't think they are as they're hard as marbles not rubbery feeling like cysts. So I did more blood work and I did a thyroid uptake and scan [that's where you swallow radioactive iodine to see what's going on in the thyroid and how it is processing the iodine]. The uptake and scan will hopefully show if these nodules are hot or cold [hot means they're working and the thyroid is overactive, cold means they're dead spots on the thyroid and it's underactive]. The blood work will show if the thyroid secretions are off and if my brain is producing an antibody that is attacking my thyroid [this is apparently pretty common with people who have family histories of thyroid problems which I, of course, do]. The good stuff is thyroids are easy to manage, even if they need to be removed completely. The bad news is the thyroid hormones can really mess up your body. Good news the nodes could be nothing, bad news they could be cysts or worse tumors. And I feel like "Great, another piece of my body that doesn't work". I was trying to keep this close to my chest and not really talk about it until I have more answers from these new tests but I am so SICK of my body breaking down. I know this is something I have to live with for forever with my back, I've come to terms with the chronic pain, the chronic degeneration of my discs, the fact that eventually I might have to have every single disc in my spine fused or replaced-FINE. I GET THAT. But now another thing. More medical bills (which I just explained how much I love [insert sarcastic Liz Lemon style eye roll here]). I AM DONE-STOP IT BODY! Quit breaking. I want to travel, have kids, be an actor who can do physical movements of any kind, finish my Second City Conservatory program, etc. KNOCK IT OFF DAMN IT. Ugh. I am pissed off. At a lot of things that are all medical. I hope I turn into the She-Hulk from the radioactive iodine and then I can She-Hulk smash all medical billing offices as a big fuck you. That would make me happy.

Medical Issues = JERKWADS.

Now the other side. The happy excited side. Joe and I get to go to France next week. To Dijon and to Paris. He has a math conference [all paid for by the university] in Dijon next Tuesday through Friday morning. Then we decided to stay until Tuesday in Paris to have some fun. Because after all the shit you read before this-WE DESERVE IT. I feel like I DESERVE IT. So we are going to site see, eat delicious French vegan food, enjoy a vacation where we don't have to do anything or be anywhere for anyone else but ourselves, and enjoy France. I am so excited. I haven't been back since my trip to Paris, Normandie, & Brittany in high school and I cannot wait to rediscover Paris and to discover for the first time Dijon. We are taking the TGV which I haven't done before so I'm excited to ride a train in France and I'm excited for Joe to see my Paris. I love my Paris, I'm so happy to rekindle our love affair. I didn't have a single unpleasant experience there [save one rude baguette stand gal and even she couldn't bring me down]. I love you Paris and I'm a comin'. I think my wanderlust will be revved back up and satiated a teensy bit too. I cannot wait! J'aime Paris!

Hope you dear chickens are well. I will try to keep you updated from France. Thanks for suffering my rants  to get to the good news. :D



 

Partly Sunny With a Chance of Recovery

So surgery. Here is how it went. It is pretty unfiltered. It's really hard to talk about so it might seem a bit cold at some points but I tried to be accurate. Also, as it is unfiltered there is medical stuff (including poop and catheters) as well as cursing. There, you've been warned.

I couldn't sleep the night of the 4th. I was up just scared and stressed, watching Frasier on Netflix, screwing around on Facebook. My little sister called me at 3:45AM my time, 6:45AM her time while she was up with my nephew for a feeding. We chatted a bit, said I love you. I tried to get some sleep. I got about max 40 minutes before my alarm went off to be at the hospital at 5AM. I shook my husband awake. Threw on the clothes I had set out for myself when I had packed my hospital bag the night before. Brushed my teeth. Waited for him to finish taking our 2 pups out. Snuggled the crap out of our dogs and kissed them. Grabbed my stuff and we drove the 5 minute drive to hospital.

Joe dropped me off to sign in and register whilst he parked the car. I was the first person to sign in. Joe came in about halfway through the process of paperwork and paying $500+ for 2 days they expected me to be in the hospital. I got copies of all paperwork I signed (please if you're ever ill or hurt make sure you get a copy of EVERYTHING you sign, I mean it, keep them on file for yourself-trust someone who has been doing this for a decade). We went out to the waiting room. There was a guy my age or younger there with his father and his girlfriend. He told me he was having shoulder surgery. We chatted for a minute or two and they called him in to sign-in and register. Joe and I waited. The 3 of them came back out after he signed in. All 5 of us waited.

A nurse came and led me down to the surgery prep room. I changed into my gown and hair & feet covers. I peed in a cup to prove I wasn't pregnant for them. I got into the gurney and had blood drawn, an IV set up, nurses checked my blood pressure and my stats and logged them. Joe got to come in to be with me. Two young gals introduced themselves to us and told me they worked for some company and would be monitoring my movements of something-I was a little distracted by my mounting fear. The anesthesiologist came in and introduced himself to us and began (in the most monotone voice ever) to go through the long laundry list of what could happen to me and how I could die, then he went through his part of the procedure and left. The lead nurse during surgery came and introduced herself to us. She assured my husband she would be in constant contact with him via his cell throughout my procedure. She checked a few vitals and left. During this time shoulder guy was wheeled in and prepped and hauled off. Joe and I both were white as sheets and afraid and pretending not to be. We tried to be up beat and joke around. They then wheeled me to the last prep room before surgery.

I was right across from surgery guy and his family. He looked panicked. I tried to smile and joke. A nurse came in to talk to them, his surgeon came, he said goodbye to his family and they wheeled him off. Joe and I were alone. I told him how much I loved him, how much he means to me, how scared I was. We held each other. He was scared and pretending to be fine. He told me he loved me. We went over the phone tree of who to call with updates. We laughed at the silly posters about hand washing in the room. My surgeon came in. Dr. Lanman looked over my stats and we chatted briefly. He went to go see what was taking so long. Joe and I held hands tightly. I started to cry but choked it back. Facing my mortality is NOT what I wanted to be doing at 28. I grabbed Joe and hugged him. The nurse came to wheel me in to the OR, I hugged and kissed Joe and told him I loved him, he said the same. I was wheeled across the hall to my OR.

As soon as we entered the Operating Room it was FREEZING! They asked me to slide across the gurney to the table. I slowly made my way onto the table set up and reclined as best I could. They immediately began to pull off my gown from around me to just on top of me and started putting my arms into foam holders so I was lying in a T set up. The anesthesiologist began to hook me up to my drugs whilst the head nurse packed warm blankets over me to keep me from shivering. The 2 monitoring gals arrived and started hooking up electrodes to me feet and legs. The anesthesiologist told me he was going to start my drugs and I floated off into my oblivion scared and panicked but forcing myself to think positively.

The surgery was about 2.5 hours Joe tells me. A little less maybe. He said the nurse called him and updated him and he called the VIPs on the phone tree [my folks and siblings] with the intermittent news and everyone when surgery was complete. I don't remember the recovery room. I don't remember being put into my hospital room. Apparently it took quite some time to find me a space. None of that is anywhere in my memories. I remember being in my room. Having Joe there. Feeling sore and bloated in my stomach, knowing there were drugs, having the nurse tell me I was on a drip and had a catheter in and to just rest. I felt fuzzy but safe and felt relieved to find my Joey there beside me. Things began to clear up as the afternoon/evening wore on. I talked to Joe, kept lifting my catheter fascinated to see constant fluids from my IV draining out of me (and it wasn't pee-so weird when you're on drugs), adjusted to bed to feel more comfortable, drank loads of fluids (water, broth, juice, more water), sucked air from a plastic device to try to get rid of anesthesia pockets in my lungs. I met all 3 nurses who were taking care of me that night (and thank goodness they wrote their names down on that dry erase board because I was all drugged up gal). I was woken up multiple times in the night to ask about my pain levels and to empty my catheter, apparently I was a champ with my fluids and my poor male nurse had to empty my bucket more than anyone.

The next day I got the dilaudid drip that I could release myself every 6 minutes. Boy did I love that bad boy. I was pushing that button all the damn time. I joked with the nurses I would divorce Joe and marry it if I could. They introduced me to the physical therapists, I was helped out of bed and walked the hallway. That's right, one day later I was walking. My catheter was removed because, again, I am the fluid champ. Joe and I watched t.v. and he worked on math. A few friends came to visit me. They were angels and helped me stay positive and made me laugh (but not too hard as I was really sore in my incision site). I made Joe take pictures of my incision site everyday to monitor the swelling and bruising. The first days were swollen, then the bruising came on, then I was distended from lack of bowel movements due to the drugs. I had multiple mishaps with the Cafeteria not understanding I was vegan and had to send lots of food back. I met with the Caf director person and she seemed to get it but my orders still got messed up all week. This was the only low spot to my hospital visit. I had amazing nurses looking out for me (I only disliked 1 of the whole group of 12 or so). I walked more and more everyday. I tried stairs towards the end of the week (Thursday, Friday, & Saturday), that is 3 days post op. I went on oral meds & milk of mag. I took a shower which felt like heaven, Joe assisted as I sat to take it. It was rough but we did it. More friends came by, some brought gifts, sent flowers, made me laugh, they were all lovely. My room had so many flowers it was beautiful. Joe slept over every night with me from Tuesday on through. He left only for an hour or so at a time to take care of our pups. By Friday the nurses told me if I didn't have a BM they would do an enema. I managed a small one that night but agreed in the morning to just go for it. It was a ridiculous and uncomfortable experience that I cracked jokes about the entire time. My nurse was a sweetie about it and told me about her own post C-section. After a morning of being in the bathroom and a shower I was released to go home at about 1PM.

They wheeled me down to the front door. That elevator ride was painful. Getting into fresh air felt amazing though. Getting into the car was awful, the ride home felt like torture. When I stepped up the 6 steps of our apartment building it was slow and tough. Walking in to our apartment Joe held the pups back from jumping on me, he put their leashes on and we went to the bedroom where they got on the bed and I pet them without bending, once they had calmed down after having not seen me for a week we took the leashes off. I got into bed and called the CVS pharmacy I use and asked about my prescriptions being filled and my husband picking them up. We called our pal to come sit with me whilst Joe went to the pharmacy. Poor guy sat with me for 3 hours whilst Joe was stuck at CVS. I fell asleep a little. Joe came home. He had bought a chair for the shower for me. The hospital had given us a raised toilet seat. I know had a slew of pain meds & stool softener. I kept taking photos of the incision site for myself to look at my progress. Joe and I tandem showered every other day. I walked around the block.

My mom flew in that Sunday to help during that next week so Joe could go back to school. She & I walked around the block 3 times a day with the pups. She helped clean, bought us groceries, did laundry, vacuumed, watched The Waltons with me, took Joe and I shopping for clothes & apartment items & all the rest of the series (seasons 2-film specials) of The Waltons, and just helped. It was nice to be taken care of so well. You have no idea how much it was needed for me but also for Joe. I think he needed to be spoiled and needed a break and that is exactly what my mom did by being here.

The next week my dear friend Benny came all the way from NYC on tour with Beauty and the Beast to stay with us. Having him here was wonderful. I kept making progress and walking. We walked together quite a bit and laughed tons. Laughing may be the best thing for recovery. He stayed with us for 2 weeks and I miss him being here! It was so much fun to reconnect and laugh at stupid stuff and cry at great music videos and watch ridiculous movies from the 80s. Our school pal Kathy came up to see us from San Diego and that was amazing too. We all spent Easter together and it was the best treat the ol' Bunny could have brought. And we had an amazing brunch with another high school pal who lives out here and I got a wee sunburned at Miss Di's brunch. It was lovely. Not the burn but the company and food.

Now I am almost at 2 months post op and I have been cleared for light cardio (breast stroke swimming, elliptical, & stationary bike) so I am looking to join a gym with a great pool here in LA. I am using less pain meds, have gone back on my mutli-vitamin (for my vitamin D deficiency), and Joe and I are starting to get things together for our October Wedding Part 2 shindig. Life is starting to move forward and I am alive and well. I was fully fucking scared. But we did it. And those who are my true friends rose to the occasion, those who aren't didn't and I am sad about that but also glad to slough them out of my life. I need nothing but those who can handle the shit with me. This proved it. I was scared but I did it. Joe was scared but he did it with me. So did my family and my friends. I cannot wait to see how amazing life can be with less pain. Chronic pain is hell. And Degenerative Disc Disease will always plague me and so will my acute arthritis. But this part of the story is over and hopefully the thoracic and cervical parts of the story don't start for awhile because I am ready to get out there and kick some ass.

Joe and I may be going to France soon for a math conference. He is actually away right now on one in Oregon, it is my first weekend alone post surgery and I am feeling pretty good. I miss him but it feels nice to take care of myself again. I am in full wedding party mode. I made 3 wedding picture albums (professional, candids, and bachelorette party). I have a premiere coming up for the web series I helped on. I am planning on having an amazing honeymoon to Ireland and beyond. Joe and I are talking about loads of adventures coming up here and how we're so ready for them. And I feel so lucky to have this fighter in me that keeps going. Even through the almost decade of shit I have made it. And I will keep mucking through the medical debt and bullshit to get to the awesome. It has already started and I cannot wait to have more of it. I am so grateful to my surgeon, my nurses, the whole staff at Olympia Medical Center, my husband, my family, my friends, my community at Second City Hollywood. And damn it, I am thankful to my back, which has really showed me how thankful I am to be a fighter. Fuck you and thank you stupid failing spine. You're an asshole but you're my asshole.

Here is to all my adventures to be! Na zdrowie & slainte dear chickens!

Sunny With a Chance of Still Reading Me!

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Partly Sunny With a Chance of Goodbye/Hello

So here it is. The day before the surgery. I'm feeling loads of things right now: scared, excited, nervous, relieved, hungry... damn fasting prep. I want a strawberry flavored almond milk yogurt! It is calling to me from my fridge. Mmm, vegan yogurt, drool...

Okay. Focusing. I am really scared. My therapist said to use this time to figure out what I know about myself. Here is what I know.

-I am strong
-I am a fighter
-I love myself (even the parts I used to hate-thanks therapy)
-I like scars so this one should rock
-I am sad my tummy will never look the same
-I love my snuggly pups so much and will miss them these next few days
-I love that our apartment is SO clean right now, I never want it to be not this clean, it feels so good
-I need Joe more than anything
-I am scared about this surgery
-I am excited to feel well
-I am dreading these first few weeks/months of constant pain-I want instant wellness
-I really wish I was becoming bionic or part robot, it would be SO cool
-I am lucky

 I also want to acknowledge some goodbyes and hellos in this.

-Goodbye shitty L3-L4, L4-L5, L5-S1 discs. I will not miss you.
-Hello new shiny metal replacement discs-don't fuck it up.
-Goodbye numbness and pain and pins in needles down my leg.
-Hello pain free movements and mobility.
-Goodbye comfy tempurpedic bed-I WILL MISS YOU!
-Hello crappy hospital bed, blerg.
-Goodbye being able to walk on my own for awhile, I'll try really hard to see you again soon.
-Hello drive me crazy toddler mobility. Get ready to see me pissed off at my limitations.
-Goodbye my life for awhile. It is strange not working, interning, performing, play improvising, hanging out with people, etc. I will miss almost all of these things.
-Hello focusing on me, getting me well, healing. Time to rediscover myself as a healthy functioning person. It's been almost a decade, I'm excited to meet you again.
-In case of emergency: goodbye to all those I love. Your love and friendships have meant more than you know. Your support, your strength. I am so grateful to have known you and to have loved you. I am sorry for any bad times, moments of anger, or hurtful words/deeds. I want you to know that you have helped me lead such a full life. Goodbye to those who have hurt me. Most of you I loved so fully that this is the reason for the hurt. But I thank you. Even if we parted poorly. I want to say I forgive you if we parted due to your actions. Even those of you who were truly hurtful. I wish to ask forgiveness if we parted due to my actions. Even if I was truly hurtful. I think I am who I am and am as strong as I am because of what our partings have taught me. If it is time I want to go out with a bang so everyone make sure you show up to my wake and party hard for me and laugh about all the stupid shit I did or said and please remember me fondly and always with a laugh. I love all of you! And I hope I am eternally your favorite Ginger Giant.
-In case of normalcy: Hello Friends! I am BIONIC! FUCK YES! Please be gentle with me these next few months as I heal. Please do not stop visiting, calling, texting, emailing. I NEED YOU. I need your friendship and support. Please be there even if I can't physically be there for you. I need it and I am asking. Please understand if I am in a terribly cranky mood from hurting. Please excuse that bad behavior. Please treat me with kindness even if I am being a jerk but also please tell me gently I was being a jerk. Sometimes it is hard to be nice when you're hurting but I never want to hurt any of you. Please don't stop loving me. Also when I am well please know that I want to go out and be active and see all of you. So please invite me and if I can be there I will, if I can't please understand. When I am 100% we will all go out dancing and be crazy and silly and it will be magnificent. And I will do cartwheels in celebration! Help me say hello to a new life without lower back pain!
-Goodbye to old me and hello to new me.

I am ready. I feel a little weird. My heart feels like it is beating a mile a minute. My head is relaxed though. I am loving up on the pups of mine as much as I can. I will miss holding them and snuggling them for quite sometime. I am trying to relax as much as I can but I do feel jittery. I also feel ready. I am scared about finances. I know we'll figure it out though. So much unknown. I think that is the thing that really scares me. The unknown. I'm not scared of surgery, I'm not scared of bad results, I'm not scared to die. I Am Scared by that which is unknown. I don't know how surgery will turn out, if it will be good or bad, if I will live today or die today, if I will have money or not have money, the unknown scares me. But I also have found that it is the most exciting. To not know. To have ENDLESS possibilities. To be unsure and to say "fuck it, here I go!" and run full steam ahead at that unknown. That is to really live. I'm a thrill seeker that way. So here I go, running full steam ahead at this surgery with all its possibilities of success and failure of bankruptcy of being fine of no pain of paralysis of death of life of all of the UNKNOWN! Here I come sucker. See numbers 1 & 2 on my list of what I know about myself above to know how this will go for me. I am ready.

 Catch you on the flip side dear chickens! I think I'll deserve a nice vegan pizza to celebrate after this, call up Cruzers for me will ya?

 

Cloudy With a Chance of Tears

I feel like a crazy woman lately. I am a tornado of emotions. I am up, down, over here, over there, I feel overwhelmed. I have been on the brink of tears all week. Anything sets me off. I have been on the brink of a full blown rage fest. Anything sets me off. I have been on the verge of laughing like a crazy person. Anything sets me off.

I am so angry at my insurance company. The one that sucks. The one that I have had since I was on my own as an adult out of college. 2006-present. I had to cancel you today. So that Joe's insurance would pay for my surgery. I no longer have 2 insurances to "help". By the way, I believed all that crap you're told about insurance being there to help you. I was told you grow up, go to school, get a good job, have insurance for when you're hurt or sick, and insurance take care of you & that what you pay them for. It's not. It's not there to take care of you. In fact most days I am on the phone with them (from both companies) fighting to get the the things I need done covered. MRIs, X-rays, epidurals, anesthesiologists, a surgery, etc. etc. etc. It is a fight. And I have learned most people don't care.

I read this yesterday from a gal I went to junior high & high school with over at Chronic Mom. It really speaks to me because no one does care if you are chronically ill (or in my case in pain). People don't see it. They don't see the struggle so it is easy to disregard, overlook, or forget about. I am not downplaying anyone who is suffering from anything that is life-threatening or diminishing that in any way. Please don't think that dear chickens. What I am saying is that I am hurting too. Constantly. And it doesn't feel like that time you had a pinched nerve or strained a muscle. It is debilitating. It is I am stuck on the floor howling in pain bad. It is no pain med has yet made this disappear for me. It is numbness in my finger tips, toes, and down my leg (a.k.a. nerve damage). And because people don't "see" it unless I am limping or stuck on the floor or crying or swearing my face off most people don't give a crap. And they really don't give a crap about the struggles of talking to insurance providers, talking to doctors all day, talking to nurses, P.A.s, billing departments, surgical coordinators, anesthesiologists, etc. etc. etc. until I want to scream. And you just get to the point where you feel alone in that struggle.

And then I read that blog entry. And I cried. And I read this blog entry and I really cried. And then I read this and this. And then I sobbed. There are other people, women going through very similar struggles right now. And each of us struggling (some of those ladies have WAY more grace than I do about it) and fighting. And some have faith to cling to, others family or friends, and I know I am also clinging to them. And their stories. And their fight. And knowing that they are out there, being honest about how fucking hard this can get, it helps me. It eases the burden and the fight a little. It makes me feel a little bit less alone in this. This does get to feeling very lonely. With friends caught up in their own lives it can feel like they don't get it, want to get it, or even don't care. So for me knowing there are indeed other people who are feeling this way, it makes it not so big, not so lonely, not so scary, no so enraging, not so overwhelming.

I am still a mess. I am still upset at people for being dumb/lazy/complacent. I am still overwhelmed with emotion. It just feels a little less today. An iota less. And if that is all I can get, I will take it.

Oh, I'm approved for surgery by my internist as of today as well. So as it stands today dear chickens I should be bionic by next week. As of this moment, surgery is a go. Let's see what happens next.


 

Stormin' Like Crazy

I'm not going to sugar coat this post dear chickens, this month has been a shit-storm for me. Whilst January felt so full of hope and good things to come February has kicked my ass. HARD. Really, really hard. Everyday this month has felt like "what disaster is going to happen today?" and that is not how I like to live my life. Just to get you in the loop here is what has been going on.

I participated in the Los Angeles 5K Color Run for charity. I was part of the Second City Hollywood team. This was AMAZING. I had a blast. The event was wonderful, the people I walked with were wonderful. I had the most fun. See my last post for some pics of the amazingness. This led me to believe this month would be great.

Then my body felt like total crap after working 2 days of 14 hour shifts, walking 3ish miles and I got super sick. I also had my last day of full time work which means my income ground to a halt. Which when you have a major surgery on the books is SUPER SCARY. My bank account hit negative in checking, in savings, my credit card was overly maxed, and I have a loan I'm paying on PLUS too many payment plans on hospitals/doctors/medical crap to even count. I began to panic. My amazing parents & in-laws helped my husband and I out of a jam. I cried a lot about how grateful I am for them and how awful I felt to even have to ask them to give us money. I told you I am not sugar coating this today. I spent the week in bed trying to sleep as much as possible, rest, and recover.

I got an email that my surgery needed to be moved. My neurosurgeon had to be somewhere on the day we had scheduled so I had to move the surgery. Of course I went into full panic mode. Thankfully we worked it out that it only got moved back a day. That was a HUGE relief. Then my back went out so I heating padded up, burned my back, popped some pain meds, & suffered through.

February 11: Joe & my 7 year anniversary. Also our married for 4 months-aversary. Instead of being amazing and romantic (though I did give Joe the cutest surprise of a book of dates from Datevitation-he loved it!) our little 3 year old Beaglerrier fell off the bed (in an attempt to steal an apple slice from my plate) and hurt his leg. It was instant high pitched yelping, crying, limping, my lifting him into my lap and him crying there whilst I called Joe balling and in a panic that my baby hurt himself. I got an appointment for him in 2 hours time (to avoid the Emergency fee at the vet) & we brought him in for an X-ray & pain meds. Welp, that turned out to be $460 and we still didn't know if anything was broken. So we went home with instructions to not let him do anything on his hurt leg (back right side leg). The next day we got the call that it was a non-displaced fracture in his ankle and he needed a cast. Poor little man was so hurt. We scheduled the appointment for first available (so Valentine's Day morning). So on Valentine's we headed into our vet's for a cast for our man. He got a purple heart on it for being so brave. Needless to say we were heart broken he was hurt and out quite a bit more cash. So anything like a dinner out, etc. went out the window as our bank account went negative again. Joy of all joys week right there. Hurt fur baby and broke. And to be honest (and even though I feel a twinge of guilt saying it) I was jealous of everyone on Facebook posting their flowers, dinners out or in, the chocolates, etc. when Joe and I got to do nothing but stress and cry and sit in our vet's office like wrecks and watch our bank account spiral into negative land. Then Joey wrote me a letter titled "To My Loving Wife" and my heart felt a bit lighter.

I got paid which helped us back into the black in our account so we weren't so scared. Then Colonel Mustard chewed through his cast so we had to go get a replacement. Then we coned him when we went out with a soft flexi-cone. He chewed through that and we got a THIRD cast & a hard-shell cone. Out more money. Then Joe went out of town for the weekend on a chess tournament that he couldn't afford but didn't want to let down the rest of his team. So he packed food, he drove (he got gas money for it) and then got a speeding ticket-which includes a court date and most likely a $300 price tag. I had a dear friend come over and I cooked us dinner (which I made enough of to eat for the rest of the weekend until Joe got back into town because this girl knows how to stretch meals when she is broke let me tell you!). We proceeded to drink a lot of vodka. And damn it I needed it. The next morning I had a brunch date with some pals in my improv conservatory class and then we had our last show together as a group. It was really bittersweet. These people have been in my life for a year now and not only do I love play improvising with them in class but they have become dear friends. We had our last class the next day which was also really bittersweet. A few of us were going to meet up that had been together since the beginning level and say our goodbyes and we ran into a few others from our class. We ended up sharing some margaritas and a few people got quite tipsy. It made for a hilarious last class to take the tinge of the sadness of it. I really love my improv family!

I was feeling like even though we were kind of "in the shit", things were looking a bit better. I was feeling grateful to have these classes and my internship that paid for them (which I had my final day of and was so sad about). Then I found a huge golf-ball sized lump in my throat that hurt to touch and made it hurt to swallow, breathe in deeply through my mouth, and yawning was horrible pain. I made a doctor's appointment for the next day out of panic that this could hold up my surgery. The doctor believed it to be an infection. I was given amoxicillin for it and was awaiting results from a throat culture. This was this past Friday. By Saturday I had an itchy patch behind my knee, by Sunday behind both my knees, on my stomach & rib cage, and my left inner arm. They looked like hives or a rash. I believed it to be an allergic reaction to the meds. Monday I saw the doctor again because I was itching myself to death. He said I was allergic to penicillin. I got steroids, a z pack, and instructions to take claritin & benadryl to help with the histamine in the hives.

I got a call late Monday afternoon from the vascular surgeon's (who is part of my surgery team) office saying I owed a $2500 deposit for my pre-op appointment the next day and that his portion of my surgery costs about $15-20k and since he is out of my insurance network I would owe that. I FULL BLOWN PANICKED. I explained no one had told me about this, that no one told me he was out of network, that I can't afford the $2500 let alone $20,000. I said "what the hell am I supposed to do now, my surgery is next week?" I was told someone would speak to the doctor to "try to help me out" and that they would get back to me. I called my neurosurgeon's surgical coordinator who had set up my surgery and the office was closed at 4:30PM on a Monday for some unknown reason. I emailed her. I spoke to the vascular surgeon's office to confirm my appointment the next day only if I heard back about these billing issues. I started crying and screaming because this month has been so hard. So.fucking.hard. Because my surgery was about to be canceled because I will not go into bankruptcy for a $20k portion of my surgery and have the rest of my next 10 years fucked financially because of this. All this waiting and planning and feeling good was being crushed because no one was giving me full disclosure about MY surgery that involves MY money and MY health and affects the rest of MY life. NO ONE ELSE'S BUT MY LIFE. I called my parents and told them the $600 plane tickets my mom bought to come take care of me post-op because I have no one here other than Joe who is at school 6-8 hours a day can take care of me because they all have lives, jobs, careers, kids, significant others, & I can't ask them to hold my life in their hands because who wants that responsibility? might have to eat the $600 tickets because everything might be off. I called my brothers to talk to someone who gets that being an adult sucks but being an adult who had these major medical issues really sucks. I called friends who couldn't or didn't pick up. I felt helpless and hopeless. I felt emotionally and mentally strained and exhausted. I threw darts as hard as I could and that felt better. If I wasn't on meds I might have drank an entire bottle of whiskey by myself. I went to bed defeated.

I woke up yesterday to start the daily fight again. The fight for me, my health, my financial future, my life. I called the surgical coordinator of my neurosurgeon-Not in until noon. I called the office of the vascular surgeon and spoke to that coordinator. She would "take care of me" I told her that meant nothing, that I needed numbers, figures, an in-network provider. I talked to the vascular surgeon's billing department, I said the same things. I called for my neurosurgeon's coordinator again and left her a voicemail. I talked to the vascular surgeon's coordinator again she said "it didn't look good" as my deductibles haven't been met. I called the neurosurgeon's office and asked for my neurosurgeon, amazingly the coordinator was there a whole 3 hours before she was supposed to arrive at noon-SHOCKER-DO NOT AVOID MY CALLS-THIS IS MY LIFE. I went between these three offices from 8:30-2:30 on the phone and then in person I met with the vascular surgeon himself at 1:30pm. We worked out a payment plan for this $2500 deposit he requires as an out of network provider. He said that if the insurance approved my surgery that means he was approved as well and that I am only responsible for this deposit which will most likely be applied towards my deductible being met. I said "why isn't what you just said what your people said to me instead of sending me into a giant panic about everything being canceled?". He laughed. I didn't find it funny. So everything seemed to be fine. Joe and I had vegan pizza from Cruzer Pizza to celebrate that the surgery was still on and that I am going to probably have a stress induced heart attack at any moment.

Today we woke up, got Colonel his 4th new cast (he has to have them replaced weekly and we finally made it a whole week!). The vet tech said he was chafing which means less activity for him and to come in earlier than a week if certain signs show up. More money, more stress. I came home and exhausted went to bed again until this afternoon. I woke up and called the neurosurgeon's billing office. Apparently there are more problems for me when it comes to billing. I am insured through an insurance I pay myself who shall remain nameless but was amazing in the Midwest and SUCKS ASS out here in California. They won't pay for anything with this surgery because it isn't "necessary" in their eyes as I could live in pain on medication for the rest of my life and just have nerve damage and that isn't a big deal because IT ISN'T THEM. So Joe and I pushed our wedding up and I got on his amazing (though expensive) insurance that keeps auto-debiting our account and fucking us over money wise and giving us the run around on that but we suck it up because they have a 90-10 policy for me and that is a miracle even though my deductible is WAY too high I need them to cover this surgery to get my life back for the love of everything ever. Now I am being told having both these insurances, which in normal cases is a good thing as then you pay less because TWO insurance companies are paying your bills, is BAD in my case because my insurance won't cover and Joe's would then be my secondary meaning I would owe a lot of money I don't have so I can get this surgery. The suggestion was I drop my insurance. I asked for dollars and cents numbers to make that decision. The billing expert couldn't give that to me and had transposed my two deductibles. I had to give her the correct info and she needed the night and tomorrow morning to get back to me with figures so I can make a fully informed decision of should I drop my one insurance and get the surgery or cancel the surgery and try to find in-network surgeons who are qualified and can perform this for me quickly so I don't keep suffering. Then she kept trying to tell me she understood why I might be confused, I explained I wasn't and that I am just pissed off and frustrated that I am not being given full disclosure and complete information to make decisions that involve my health, my money, and my future. She didn't respond. I also said I was extremely aggravated to be dealing with this all DAYS before the surgery is supposed to happen rather than back when this fucking things was JUST STARTING TO BE SCHEDULED. She'll get back to me tomorrow.

I am going to write in caps for a minute here: DEAR ASSHOLES OF THE HEALTH INDUSTRY (that's right health care is a business and NOT actually about patient health, know that before you ever get sick or injured, it'll save you being disheartened often), GET YOUR SUPPORT STAFF'S SHIT TOGETHER. THEY NEED TO GIVE PATIENTS FULL DISCLOSURE AND DISCUSS ALL OPTIONS WITH THEM AT THE BEGINNING OF SCHEDULING PROCESSES NOT AT THE END. THEY ALSO NEED TO BE PEOPLE OF SOME INTELLIGENCE WHO THOROUGHLY UNDERSTAND THEIR JOBS AND CAN PERFORM THE DUTIES OF THESE JOBS. IF THEY CANNOT THEY SHOULD NOT BE IN THAT POSITION. IF THE PATIENT KNOWS MORE THAN THEY DO ABOUT THINGS THAT FALL INTO THEIR CATEGORY OF JOB DESCRIPTION PERHAPS THESE PEOPLE NEED TO BE LET GO. AND NEVER, EVER TELL A PATIENT HOW THEY ARE FEELING, IT ANGERS THEM AND BELITTLES THEM. STOP HIRING AND EMPLOYING PEOPLE WHO ARE UNABLE OR ARE UNWILLING TO DO THEIR JOB PROPERLY BECAUSE THEY MAKE YOU LOOK BAD AS DOCTORS. End rant.

But seriously, figure it the hell out. This stuff is life changing and fucking scary to the people in it. And I am more informed than most as I have been dealing with this for almost a decade. I am usually pretty understanding and willing to walk people through their own damn jobs just so I know I am taken care of. Because the only person who advocates for you in the health care business is YOU. No one else gives a shit about anything other than money. Sorry, that is the truth as I have learned it these past 9 years. But I will not and am not able to be patient with anyone who is doing what these people are doing to me with only LESS THAN A WEEK to go until my surgery. I am done. I am so fucking done I cannot even explain. I need loads of whiskey and vodka and beer and anything with alcohol right now but I am on meds and will not drink. So I am left feeling desperate, frustrated, angry, annoyed, pissed the hell off, hopeless, helpless, and exhausted! I just want to be done with doctors, their support staffs, and insurance for forever. I will have my babies at home by myself just to avoid all this headache. I cannot take it anymore. I cannot take another fuck up regarding my health, welfare, finances, and future life due to someone else's idiocy, confusion, laziness, not caring, or disregard. I AM DONE! And yet I know I am not because I don't know how to not fight. How to not come out swinging, to not scratch/bite/kick/scream until I am taken care of. I will Tom Petty the shit of this situation ("I Won't Back Down") and every other one because I will not accept that answer. THANK.YOU.VERY.MUCH.

So here I am. Feeling downtrodden, broken physically/emotionally/mentally, wanting to cry/scream/rage/wail, and all I can do is be here in this. Do you know what it feels like to sit in this kind of feeling? If you do, please, I need help. If you don't, no offense, don't offer anything other than I love yous because I can't take it. I am sorry but I just can't. The fighter in me is tired. The fighter wants a break and the poor girl just won't get it. And that fighter cannot take any of your advice if you don't get this. So I have to politely ask you to shut up. If you haven't been here, please just say I love you and then stop talking. I have been clinging to Momastery just to feel like other people out there get it. This is too hard sometimes. This thing called life. But I will keep on keeping on and keep on fighting/raging/kicking/screaming/wailing because I don't know how to stop. But for now I need a rest, I could really and truly use it.

Take care dear chickens, please take care. Here are some pics of my little buddy being brave in his casts.