Strength

I debated this afternoon about blogging this. I'm not sure if it's going to help me feel better or not. I may just type this, wait a couple of days for reality to really sink in, then delete it. I should also mention that the A/C is out in my house and it's about 89 in here right now, so my fried brain may come back later and say this was pretty dumb to do - we'll see....
I had a complete and total breakdown at work today. In fact, just thinking about this is causing me to get upset now, so maybe writing isn't the most theraputic thing for me at the moment. I got some really bad news from the doctor today. Suffice it to say I have to go back in for testing, which is pretty redundant at this point, and the end result will possibly be one of the following or both:
1) I am never going to be able to have children b/c I won't be able to carry to term and/or
2) I may have to have a hysterectomy (worst case scenario)

So, pretty much either one of those options is going to suck. My friends are being very supportive - since I spent the better part of an hour crying on my surrogate mom's shoulder today, it's helped some. Another friend picked me up and we went to lunch - she's also driving me to the doctor on Wednesday. I am probably going to have surgery again - now the fun part - my insurance will end on June 30th. I leave for an out of town job on June 21st. They only do the surgery on Fridays. So, it gives me just about 2-3 weeks to have the procedure done, and if something extreme happens while I am out of town teaching, I'm screwed with no insurance. If I wait to have surgery, I won't have coverage until Oct. 1 and there's no guarantee they will cover the procedure since it will be deemed a "pre-existing condition". Since I've already done this once, I already know that without insurance, the surgery is upwards of $3000.

I'm not sure I'm strong enough to do this again. I've done it once and was pretty much assured at that point that things would go back to normal, and now this. I'm afraid my dad is going to call and know something is wrong and I'm going to have to tell him - I can't do it again. It was hard enough the first time, I can't do it. I used to think I was pretty strong - now I'm not so sure (my hands are shaking - please forgive spelling errors). I don't want to worry him and having to tell him that I can't have children is going to be the worst thing besides telling him I was getting a divorce. Now, of course, this can all be traced back to my ex-husband and it is actually his fault. I can't even smack him, yell, scream at him - nothing. I really don't think I can do this. I don't want surgery again, I don't want to have anything else removed from my body. I know if I don't, it could eventually kill me and I don't want that either. What really doesn't make sense is I've checked out 3 times in the last year and nothing was found - why now? Why did it get missed before? I feel defective - I'm tired of being sick, I'm tired of missing work (I have to take a day off this week and it's the last full week of classes - the sub coordinator was not a happy camper), I'm just tired of this. Everything goes along good and - WHAM! - I hit the brick wall and life stops. I'm really tired of getting slammed up against this damn wall. I'm tired, I hurt, I'm angry, I'm depressed, I'm upset - pick anything and I'm probably it right now, except strong.