Might just be the worst combination of words you can say to me

No, there's nothing you can do.

We all have our words, phrases or ideas that make us chafe and so uncomfortable we don't know what to do with ourselves. And for me it's to be told there is not much or any action for me to do or not do. 

Tuesday night I started to get those pains again. In a certain area in my skin. Like making me exclaim out loud ooooooo eeeeee and other stuff (not all bad). You see at this point in recovery you start to be able to distinguish different pain types. 

Shooting nerve pain is unexpected, it can not be prevented or predicted. My surgeon describes it by asking me "so did that little man with the needles come visit yet"? Of course I laughed said why, yes as a matter of fact many times this week to a degree where I was woken up from my sleep and finally had to go investigate to be sure I didn't have knives or cactus needles in my bra. In an area that was quiet as a mouse for a while. Nope, no, nothing in my clothes. Needle guy.

Pain from after surgery or incision healing pain. That decreases as time goes on and healing occurs. Im ok with this pain. I understand now how it works.

Discomfort and spasms from my chest muscles being stretched out. These poor guys had been lying dormant all their lives minding their own business and suddenly they need to wake up and do work. Well they tend to protest about that. 

The other pain that makes me very nervous is similar to the pain I experienced before the last minute surgery a few weeks ago. No dead rat smell or liquid just that pain in my skin in certain areas. Because I felt the echocardiogram guy on Monday might have been over zealous pressing down on me I thought I was sore?? Until Tuesday night pains. I wake up yesterday morning and see my skin once again is not wanting to heal and come together. That's what it was. How much does that $@&@? @&$??!!? Tons.

After calls, emails and photo for my doctor who was in surgery it was decided I needed to get in there to meet her yesterday afternoon for an in office out local anesthesia skin burning more incisions party. 

Very discouraging and frustrating. I wanted to know if there is something I might be able to do or stop doing. Please anything, give me action. I quizzed my surgeon as she was doing her work. What about this? No. What's about the fact I'm a leftie? Nope. It's that my skin in that area is thin and it needs to decide if it wants to come together and regenerate. It happens and there are other alternatives if this doesn't work. None of which are all that appealing and attractive to me. 

Here I go to talk in song or verse as it seems it's the only thing I can do. That and be still with limited movement from new incisions. 

Jon Bon Jovi. Living on a prayer. (Everybody please raise your lighters and sing it with me)

Whooah, we're halfway there

Living on a prayer

Take my hand and well make it- I swear

Living on a prayer

We've got to hold onto to what we've got

Cause it doesn't make a difference

If we make it or not

We've got each other and that's a lot

For love-we'll give it a shot

So sister innocently asks me the other day

How I'm doing. I tell her oh fine, except for the fact that I received a letter from my insurance company that I call "we are sorry you are now a drug addict and p.s. we have told all your doctors on you, the gig is up" letter.

She cracked up. Noooo, stop narrowing your eyes. My sister isn't laughing at me or the fact I'm now a druggie. I meant for her to laugh. You see when I tell you that I don't pander to anyone on this blog it might be a lil fib. I pander to my sister (who I call sister) because: she gets me and my wacky sense of humor, she has the best laugh, seriously you will make stuff up to hear it too, and she understands how very badly I need to laugh at some ridiculous stuff. She and I are willing participants in the lets step back and look at this from another view point experiment. 

I have talked long enough in this blog about my aversion to narcotics and the facts that my surgeries required them for after care. That if I even tried to test the waters a few days after there I was writhing in pain. Still- I haaaaaaatte them. Besides being highly addictive. Besides the fact that it's toxic for your liver. Besides the fact that they rob me of my true self. Besides the fact the pills made me itch like a loca. And (my goodness I am taking you down this path) besides the fact that each time you are handed the prescription you are reminded to have those stool softeners (eff you hydrocodone) and prune juice handy in front of anyone and everyone. Perfect. I def want to have those conversations. Fun times. Fun times.

So reason #14 why I intensely dislike narcotic medicine is in addition to all I listed above you get a I'm sorry your a druggie letters from your insurance company and please seek alternatives (I asked and begged) and here are links for help. Second page was list of all controlled substances filled in last 3 months, who gave them and how much (looking at it scratching my head-well now that you put it like that) and notice we are mailing out to everyone. Please understand that I understand why it's tracked and why they send this out. There IS an epidemic out there. Just not at Casa de Lolita. 

Because I'm all about the relationship and improving it I wrote a letter back. You know they offer advice, tips and "help" so I wanted to be sure the relationship is balanced and I offer advice, tips and help.

Dear insurance company, 

I received your letter of concern for me regarding my use of narcotics or as you say controlled substance. I thank you very much for thinking of me and your offer to help in my time of need. 

However I'm concerned one department may not be taking to the other? Just a guess. Maybe controlled substance department can partner with the department handling customers who have been given terrible shit sandwiches with multiple surgeries and that type stuff? Surely you have departments like this. I get letters from all of you fine people.

I know, I know what your thinking hehe, I talk a lot of smack about pain meds and marijuana. It's just that-talk. The truth is I chucked the pain pills 6 days ago and didn't tell anyone and I'm just not convinced about the mowie wowie part. I like to say it to tease my almost 80 year old parents (maybe you can offer counseling about that?). Although I admit I kept the prune juice. I have gotten accustomed to the taste. It's because what I'm left after this last surgery is a few new incisions and bruises that are causing discomfort, not outright pain. Not pain that I need to "be high" to forget. As well that nerve pain I say bad words over is going to hang around sometime I'm told and it sticks it's middle finger up at anything I take so why not make peace I say.

Oh hey! Speaking of making peace instead of spending money worrying bout me and sending letters out can you agree to pay for my wigs, hairpieces and all that jazzy stuff? In return I can offer my services to find money to pay for it. I have lots of thinking time on my hands.

Your partner in eradicating addictions and saving money, 
Lolita
P.S. To make you comfortable and regain trust I'm willing to submit to pee tests. A few conditions. You pay for it (I'm good on that getting more bills thing) and just for fun lets say  we ALL do it. $87.23 says I have the cleanest pee around. Seriously let's do that because that's one of my co-pays and I can cross that off my list.