Overdosing is Less Than Everything Else

Well I never expected it to be this long since I have written.
I have made up every excuse to avoid being vulnerable again or seem like I need a grasp on life or help.
But I think it's time to get back to myself and figure out what I am missing or what I need.
If it sucks it's because it's been too long and I am technically so far out of school that I might not even recall the difference between their, there, and they're...(I'm kidding about that last part. Yikes)

I have been so busy with immersing my every being into my career, to where it is making me bury everything else and now it is biting me in the ass like it always does.
  I have had a lot happen since I have decided to write again. So a recap I guess would serve a purpose because.. well I really don't need an excuse..because this is my story anyways..

I tried the internal shots.
And the first time it was like God had bestowed upon me the feeling of what a pain-free life would look like.
Well that's a stretch...the path is anything less than ideal.

A giant needle penetrating your muscles in your pelvic floor...::no no I don't like that::

It was the worst pain I have ever felt in my entire life. We ended up doing 8 internal shots. Dr. T was putting gauze in places that I didn't think one should put gauze. I started to freak because she was like WE NEED GAUZE, and said it in a urgent manner like she had just cut off a piece of my body. 

 The tears were worth the terror.

I have done 8 rounds of shots. Two internal and 6 external.  I have only done two internal because the first time was awesome but the second time made me so sick. Dr. T shared some dark Dove chocolate to settle my insides. Turns out if you are on your cycle it sends the muscles into shock and causes your body to freak out. And it did.  IT really did.

Dr. T said shots are not a permanent solution and I knew that and she knows that and we all know that, but I was scared for another surgery and scared for the pain and scared for the pills.
But I didn't want to say I wouldn't try.
We discussed changing my medications up. What's ONE more pill.

 I was taking 20mg of Lexapro to manage my anxiety and they decided to switch me over to Cymbalta.  This anti-depressant is also an anti-spasmatic. 

Well in the laws of the drug world you can't stop taking one and start taking another.

You have to ween off that shit.  So we decided to take me down to 10mg of Lexapro for a week, then 10mg with 30mg of Cymbalta, and the 10mg of Lexapro with 60mg of Cymbalta, and let's just say 60mg with 10mg is too many mg for my body.

I overdosed again. 
My muscles were in over drive.  I couldn't stop moving, I  couldn't talk, I hurt all over.  Brandon rushed me to the ER and my heart rate was 170 resting. My blood pressure was through the roof. They admitted me and pumped me with Benadryl and fluids through my arm and instantly was completely drugged up.  No idea what happened and then Brandon took me home.

It was like a dream. I didn't know when I woke up if it happened or not but I did feel like I was hit by an underage drunk driver again. Prying myself out of bed like they pried me out of my vehicle.
 And I went back to work the next day. 
I am back on the Lexapro and feeling better. 

It's dark in life when you mess with something that stabilizes you.

We still don't have a solution, but I guess I'll be getting my next round of shots on the 11th.

Life is crazy sometimes. Depression is real. Confidence and perseverance really are key to creating normalcy in a body that you wish wasn't yours. 

HAPPY(?) ONE YEAR

Congratulation to myself. 

 And I do not mean that sarcastically.  Seriously.

I have now known for an entire year more about myself than I ever thought I could.  

Things that I never would have guessed about myself. 

I am beyond cool with my body at this point.  I have always been a heterosexual female, but I have definitely in the last year had more woman look at my naked body than anyone else.  

I did actually venture out of my comfort zone and I had a boyfriend for a brief period of time.  Which of course #noregrats not even 3 months. 

Still a little bit of a flesh-wound 

But in other news, 

I am literally pelvis deep into my physical therapy.  

I go two times a week still, for my personal training of my pelvic floor.

No weights necessary. 

It's still very weird.  It gets a little better in the aspect of you know what is going to happen but that doesn't really mean you want it to, so at least you are mentally prepared....::shrugs shoulders::

But I really feel like I need to watch the news more to have more things to talk about with Dr.B.  I mean the last thing on earth I want to happen while she is making sure those muscle are mobile, is for us to run out of things to talk about.

She is no Dr. S,but you could say things are getting pretty serious with us.

There have been a few times were she is making sure I am doing things right.  No I don't want to talk about it.

But.

I will say the biggest change I have seen is my external scar decreasing.

It's by no means gone, but the change has been significant, which moderately boost my self-esteem. 

moderately. 

I am still not going to show anyone.  

I wore a one piece this summer that was way too small for my body in front of my family to make sure no one saw it.

I doubt I will ever really get there with that one.

The pain has been less frequent as well.  Which is the largest plus of all. The determination has been that the scar tissue itself is the the "true" culprit, so we could  have another surgery. 

A surgery. 

Another one. 

I'm like the DJ Khaled of woman's heath surgeries... 

 

I am hoping by my last visit on October 21st that I will be much better and there will be no need of 

Another one. 

  

Personal Training that Pelvis

I have not written in a while because life happens and I have been beyond busy.  And I also have not had a lot of medical situations that needed addressing. After my last surgery things were really getting better.  I was just having normal, after-surgery pain.  Well things have once again hit the fan.  I don’t like to live a normal life, so this is good.

So, about two weeks ago I started to get that pain in my left side again.  I don’t have the proper tools, or drugs to handle this situation appropriately so I decided to pay the love of my life Dr. S a visit. 

I did miss her. 

Anyways she was like,

“Hey Kels, figured it out… guess what… you have

Pelvic Floor Dyfunction.”

What. The. Eff. Is. That.

I was baffled

Is this like erectile dysfunction?  Can I not get a female erection? What does that mean? Do females need that?

I am so confused at this point asking Dr. S for pills to harden my female lady parts. 

She’s like,   “No Kels, You have to go to physical therapy for 12 weeks for this.”

You have to do what Dr. S.  You are telling me to do what for how long.

I have had physical therapy on my back from a really bad car wreck I was in.

Please dear baby Jesus that this is not the same thing.  They are going to do what to my what.

I went home in tears, naturally because that’s one of my more prominent emotions now a days. 

And I looked up this PFD.  So I know you might google it to figure out what I am talking about but,

Pelvic Floor Dysfunction refers to a wide range of issues that occurs when muscles of the pelvic floor are weak, tight, or this is an impairment of the sacroiliac joint, lower back, coccyx, or hip joints.  Symptoms include pelvic pain, pressure, incomplete emptying and gross organ protrusion. 

Cool, huh?

I knew I was unique but, 10% of people between the ages of 20-40 get this.

Yes people.

Guys get this too. 

Not quite what physical therapy they have to endure but I know for 100% fact it’s not the same as mine.

And if the therapy doesn’t take, surgery number 3.

I did not want to do this.  I did not want this. I don’t want this.

But I really, really don’t want another surgery.

I am currently on my 2^nd week of therapy.

I have created some rules of what I can, and cannot do while I am there:

1.       Don’t ask too many questions.  You really don’t want to know. Don’t ask.  Just listen, shut up, and do it.

2.       DO NOT.  DO NOT make eye contact.  Even if she does.  Don’t. You’ll hate yourself.

3.       Actually do the stuff at home that she tells you.  This isn’t a game. 

I really was debating talking about this because I don’t mind all the ovaries and the tubal removal and the visits and the surgeries but the therapy.  

THE THERAPY. 

This puts the cake on the weird things that happen to me, and some weird things happen to me.  Even over ripping my pants at my job interview, at the job I currently work at.

That’s a whole other story.

I will say, If you are going through this and want to know. Ask. Or if you are curious ask.  I am trying to normalize something people go through but because of what it is, we can’t talk about it.  That’s ridiculous.

The one of the biggest problems we have in life is feeling like we have to go through things alone because we are too embarrassed to talk about things.

If you think I am not embarrassed, you are crazy.  This is beyond embarrassing.  I cry about how embarrassing this is because I feel like wow something is seriously wrong with me.  And there is.  But I am trying to fix it.

I don’t want to feel like I am dealing with this alone or that I have to. 

So, my name is Kelsey Appleyard.  I am Infertile, and I have Pelvic Floor Dysfunction.  And that’s okay.

Graphic In Nature

I had a very long talk last night with a good friend of mine.  She is going through something so different, yet we can relate so much.


My friend's pelvic floor is completely destroyed due to a form of birth control.  She has endured 3 surgeries in 3 years for 3 different issues involving her reproductive system.  Doesn't seem like a lot, but when you have a full Hysterectomy by the age of 28 due to pain of your pelvic floor, then it becomes a big deal.


Hysterectomy (if you want it in my terms, is the whole thing gone: egg holder, baby holder, and the Bering Strait; all gone) is the real deal. 
You can't go back. But, she had to do this. 

We had a long talk about relationships, our goals, and our struggles.

I felt for her.  She has never wanted to have children so the news of not being able to have one was not as heart-breaking as it would be to some. 
She just wants to be a normal person again.

 See with these surgeries, when you have problems in the "south-pole", they are never really a one-and-done kind of thing. 

When one problem occurs lots of problems could happen, and it can take awhile before you can return to doing the things you love, or even normal activities.

The thing that makes us as woman is in complete jeopardy.

Being as young as we are it makes the whole becoming a woman thing kind of a running joke.

I only had my period for half of my life before it decided to retire. 

People do tell me all the time how lucky I am to not have a period.
Brah...I'll trade you.

I started this blog because of this. 

There are so, so, so many women going through these problems.  They are not just painful on the person itself, but the spirit.

I have been searching for a peer-led support group to help with this because hearing her story (and many of the stories I have heard from people reading my blog) have not only helped her or you by telling it, but it has helped me.  But most groups are for those who have experienced miscarriages, and those who are dealing with infertility with a partner.

I mean, I have no problem showing up alone, but that's what it feels like...being alone.

Family is cool, and friends are great, but if you tell me to adopt or there are other options; I am going to punch you in the face.
You think we don't know that. 
We know the cost.
We know most of the options.

But we are living in a society where women that should have children are on their third or fourth, and I am praying for a miracle, or hoping that maybe 40,000 dollars for adoption will be able to be made in payments.

We just want to hear-
"That sucks."

 Let me vent for a minute, and then tell me a joke.

That's it. Don't try and fix it. Tell me it sucks. Because it does.

And the joke calms my mind. I love to laugh.  This is on our minds most of the time, so any distraction at all to help us forget is exactly what we need.
It's called being a friend.


Seriously though the amount of people that have reached out either with kind words, or to share their stories... Thank you.

Keep it up. The positivity you all spread by your love and honesty is what keeps people like us hopeful.