So the past few days have been....odd.
Last week I wrote about receiving the news that my retina has once again detached and that I would require another surgery (another vitrectomy) this week. Please note that I didn't say "may" or "could". In fact, the doctor I saw on Thursday was willing to do the operation on Monday.
Instead I chose to wait for my usual retina surgeon, since he is apparently the best retina surgeon in Canada. Plus my eyeballs are complicated little buggers, and I don't want just anybody poking around in there. So I waited for him to arrive on Tuesday and then schedule me in for surgery Wednesday or Thursday.
Obviously, that didn't happen. My mum dropped everything to fly across the country and take care of me after the surgery (I told her not to but that's how she is) and arrived Tuesday morning. Shortly after she arrived I was called in to the eye institute so my surgeon could get a look. Apparently, my retina had detached last week due to fluid accumulation underneath it. However, when I saw my surgeon on Tuesday the fluid was gone and my retina was reattaching, YAY!
Not so fast guys, it's not over and it's not all sunshine. He said that the retina was straned and tight (but luckily not torn or full of holes). I'm supposed to wait a week and then get it checked again. During this time I'm not allowed to do any physical activity other than walking - so no yoga or cycling. I will probably need more "work" done on my eye next week, but not as severe as my previous surgery.
I could have left that appointment feeling relieved, but my surgeon said something that hit a raw nerve so to speak. When describing other procedures I may need, he told me that I "won't need to call for mommy" again because these procedures don't require much after care.
I was so humiliated.
I hate being dependent. I hate feeling vulnerable. Most of all, I hate feeling like a crybaby. I pride myself in handling situations with grace and independence. That simple, seemingly benign statement went against this.
Today in my sociology of addictions class we were discussing how our society views drug addicts as childish, irresponsible and unable to make decisions for themselves. Though I haven't suffered from addiction in the traditional sense, I have had these views placed upon me. I experienced this during my psychiatric hospitalizations and my 3 month day patient eating disorder treatment. Leaving those experiences behind me meant independence and self reliance, and when that's challenged....it hurts.
Anyways, I reacted emotionally to this statement. I got angry at my mum for coming. I felt embarrassed for telling people that I needed surgery and therefore getting undeserved sympathy. I was so angry at everyone, but especially myself. My mum drove me home in silence. When we arrived at my building I told her that I wasn't angry with her but I just needed time alone. So she drove off and I curled up in bed, trying to shut the world out.
I couldn't think of how to cope with how I was feeling, so I turned to the old reliable method. I decided that I would fast for a few days - starve out my feelings and punish myself for complaining and drawing too much attention to myself. I wrote reminders of how horrible, ugly and worthless I was and saved it on a word document (to be printed out and put on my mirror when my mum left).
Anyways, the crisisy feelings past, I spent the night with my mum and she left early this morning. I told her over and over how sorry I was for treating her that way and how grateful I was that I had someone in my life who was willing to fly across the country at a moments notice to be with me. Oh the guilt....I still feel guilty about that.
Today I woke up and decided to go against the plan to fast. If I hated being treated like I was incapable and childish, starving myself was just going to make that worse. I was still upset and ashamed and uncertain, but that's not enough to make me give in.
I don't know what next week will bring, but I'm trying the best with what I have.
That's all I have to ramble on about today- I'll continue the 50 questions later- pinky swear!
Peace, Love and Veggies,
Alex
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