Confidence Builder

Finally finding a career I want to do for the rest of my life has been life changing for me. Each and every day that I am at my job there is a moment where I have that "Aha Moment" and realize that I am exactly where I want to be in the path to my life-long career. 

I have been feeling more and more comfortable at my job these last couple of months. Instead of running everything by my supervisor, I've learned the things that I can do with my own discretion. I have taken on more responsibility, and I have been learning and successfully performing new skills. It's not often that I feel proud of myself, but right now I certainly do. 

I finally bit the bullet with a co-workers persuasion and decided to start doing rapid streps and influenza screens. I watched them be done a handful of times, but never had the courage to do it myself, being too afraid I would do it right. That I would stick the swab too far up a nose, or not get the right part of the throat during a swab. But as I was told with Strep screens, "If you gag them, you're doing it right" and with Influs "You're just tickling their brain and if they don't hate you after you're done, you did it wrong." Boy are they right! I've now done them several times and I think I've finally got it figured out. I definitely can't be afraid to be mean doing these, and it's something that I really, really hate doing. But I've sucked it up and have volunteered to go them. Something I didn't want to do before!!

I was also pretty uneasy with doing blood cultures on my own. It's difficult to transfer blood into the bottles while keeping pressure on the venipuncture site. I would always either go and just watch, or have someone help me. But once again, I bit the bullet and started volunteering to do them myself. I have successfully done 3 or 4 with no help and I feel like I've done a good job with it.

I have also started to volunteer to go draw ERs that we have. I was always very nervous when it came to people coming through those ER doors. You never know what you're going to encounter. Traumas, breathing problems, heart attacks. It's just scary because you don't know the kind of shape they are going to be in. I would stay behind, answer the phones, do outpatient draws and whatever I could do to help out as long as I didn't draw them. That or I would have a tech come with me as my moral support, or backup. I finally decided that enough was enough and that I needed experience or I wasn't going to get any better with it. My adrenaline really kicks in as I'm walking down the hall to ER and I used to start shaking really badly, which, naturally, makes it really hard to do your job. 

But I have sucked it up, taken a few big deep breaths, and told myself that it's OKAY to take my time. I do have to say that for the most part, I have overcome the ER fear that I used to have. I still do not do well with traumas or things like car crashes, and I have someone either come with me, or go draw themselves, but I'm trying to overcome that as well. 

We have seen a lot of sick kids and they are tough to draw! None of us like it, but a couple weeks ago my supervisor encouraged me to draw a little 3 year old. One of my co-workers went with me, as is needed to support their arm and help with distraction. I ended up missing, but she backed me up and got it. But it was a good experience for me and showed me that I can do it without freaking out. My problem was going to shallow because I used a butterfly needle in the antecube and I'm used to going shallow with butterflies due to being in the hands. But I then drew a 6 year old successfully even though he was super nervous. That's the youngest I've done successfully. We put so much pressure on ourselves to draw those kids and make sure it's a 1 time thing. So much pressure that I often chicken out. But I KNOW I can do it... and that's a huge deal for me. 

My confidence has grown significantly. In the ability I have to do my job, and the confidence that I have in myself. My co-workers believe in me and know I can do it, too, and that plays a huge roll. I've drawn a lot of really difficult patients recently. And I've done it without a problem.. only after sweating it for a few seconds before sticking the needle in their arm. Just praying I've hit the vein that I can't see and can hardly even feel.

Today I had a very, very nice complement. A lady who doesn't normally hand out compliments came up to the lab and asked if my co-worker was there. I told her that he wasn't working today. She responded with, "Well then I don't know if you'll be able to get any blood out of me!"I kind of giggled because a lot of people say that. My co-worker is known for getting some pretty tough sticks when the rest of us can't, or chicken out. He's been doing it a long time and while we are all capable of doing it, he is gutsy and just goes for it. I think that's one reason why he's so successful with his draws. But I digress. She told me, "You get 2 tries. That's absolutely it!" I giggled again and told her before we even got into the draw room that it was okay, we'd take a look and see what I can find. She then looked and me with a straight face and said, "No I'm serious. Only two tries. That's all." My other co-worker was coming back into the lab and heard that conversation. I went back into the lab and she just laughed at me and said, "No pressure at all!" I was a bit nervous, but was going to try anyway. I found one that felt pretty good and decided to go for it. I got it on the first try and after I pulled the needle out and smiled she seriously told me, "You're even better than Mike." That's the best compliment that I've ever received because, as I said, she doesn't give out compliments and he can get just about anyone. Everyone asks for Mike. 

Today I was also able to get a man who never let me draw him before. I've won him over and now he doesn't ask for anyone else when he knows I'm the one that's going to do it. After I was done he told me, "You're just getting pretty good at that." Usually he flinches, a very low pain tolerance, but this time he didn't move an inch. 

I love my job. I love my patients and I love the residents at the home. I just love what I do. It's been a good few weeks and work and I'm looking forward to when I can go back to school, and maybe even come back for a year or two to learn the ropes as a tech. They have all said they really want me to come back after school. It's such a good feeling to be wanted.

Mr. Clark, it was a pleasure

The inevitable finally happened last week. A patient who has been coming in for blood draws who I came to just love passed away last week and for the first time, it really just breaks my heart to know that he won't be around anymore.

With the work that I do, it's common to see people come in and out of the hospital at various stages of illnesses. Acute. Chronic. Terminal. Within the 6 months that I've worked as a phlebotomist I have seen several patients come into the hospital and not leave. And when you're from a small town, you get to know everyone incredibly well -- especially those frequent flyers that need lab work on a daily to weekly basis. By far, this is certainly one of the hardest parts of my job. Having to go into their hospital room and drawing their blood as they sharply inhale and exhale a breath as their ribcage forcefully expands to accommodate what may be their last breath of air. Standing there while a patient breaths at a rate of only 3 to 4 breaths a minute, praying that that breath was not their last and anxiously anticipating them to once again fill their lungs, but knowing that the last breath will come at any moment. Knowing they can hear you, whispering to them how wonderful of a patient they've always been for you. Letting them know they are loved and cared about by many.

And then there are the experiences with patients who know that they are dying. It's such a tender moment when a patient knows that they are dying. When they confess to you, like one elderly woman did this morning, that they are "nearly dead", and as a man had to tell me 2 weeks ago that, "it's only a matter of time." You try to reassure them, comfort them, and be compassionate towards them, but what do you say? Being an outsider it's difficult to asses how they are dealing with their own mortality. With Spencer, for example, I knew where he was at and how he was processing everything. I may not have known what to say, but our intimate relationship allowed me more comfort to express my sadness and to help him through it. But as a professional, it's hard to know the right words to say.

A couple of Friday's ago I went up to the nursing home to draw a patient. I was looking forward to going up there because this was a man I had really come to enjoy seeing in the lab. He hadn't been in in a little over a month as he was recovering from a surgery that he had. I walked into his room and he was laying on his bed not looking so good. I looked over at him and smiled and told him that I had been thinking about him constantly and that it was good to see him.

I asked him how he was feeling. How his surgery went. I was genuinely interested and concerned about him. As I was palpating for a vein in his arm which had grown thinner, veins becoming harder to find, he told me that things did not go well. The look on his face and in his eyes told me that was quite a grim response. He then proceeded to tell me, "It's just now a matter of time." At that point I wasn't sure of the full extent of everything so I replied with, "Just a long road to recovery now, huh?" but he shook his head no and I suddenly understood. I'm sure my face went ghost white, my heart sank down to my stomach, hands started shaking, and as a slight tear started to form in the corner of my eye I fought it back, knowing I had a job to do and I had to get through it. I had to be strong for my patient.

After drawing his blood, I stood up and took a moment to chat with him. I had been considering coming up after work some day and visiting him, and so I decided that there was no better time like the present to ask him if he liked visitors. So I did and he told me that yes, he loves them. The moment I asked him, "Would you like me to come up here in a few days and visit you so that we can chat a little more?" his face completely lit up. It was the first time in the entire conversation where his eyes opened wide and he actually held a smile on his face. He told me he would like that very much. I knew instantly I had to do it as soon as I could. I was really looking forward to visiting with him more.

After saying my goodbyes to him I left the room and just felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. My leaned my elbows on my cart as tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn't believe it. It just wasn't fair.

I will never forget the short and sweet relationship that I built with this man in the time that I knew him. The very first time that he came into the lab he was a bit grumpy and really not feeling well. His wife accompanied him. At that time we didn't exchange too many words, but I thought that I recognized them. I knew that I had seen them somewhere before but I couldn't place who it was. The next time that he came into the lab, a few short weeks later, it finally dawned on me who he was. I asked him if he had any relation to a family whose son I used to date, and he told me, "Oh ya! I sure do" with a grin on his face. He told me that he thought he and his wife recognized me. He said that his wife asked if that's who I was but he couldn't be certain. He remembered exactly who I was and I couldn't believe that he remembered me spending time at their house one Christmas with their family. We chatted some more while I drew his blood and then he left.

He came back many, many times after that and after that conversation we had, his whole demeanor changed towards me after we found common ground. He always greeted me with a family at 6 am in the morning. Never left without the routine of telling me, "Thank you, you take care, sweetie."

We often talked about the extent of his health and how he was feeling. Some days were good for him, but most days he struggled. We bonded over doctors appointments and a doctor that we both shared out in Colorado, agreeing how amazing he is. Sometimes we would laugh together and smile when he was having a good day, and sometimes it was somber when he was having a particularly rough time.

I truly began enjoying seeing him at the lab. He was one of those people who just made my morning a little bit better. He was always so sweet, gentle, and very kind to me. I can't pinpoint exactly what I liked so much about him, but I think it was just his over all attitude towards me when he was there.

Unfortunately I was not able to go back up to the home and see him. It's a hard pill to swallow. My grandpa passed away after that and didn't get the opportunity to visit him that weekend. The day that I was planning on going up after my first day back at work he was admitted into the hospital and had passed away. It really happened quick, a lot faster than I thought it would. I'm sad that I didn't get the opportunity to visit him again, but I am beyond thankful that I spent a few extra minutes that day that I drew his blood to talk with him.

He was so sweet and I really miss seeing him around. It was a truly a pleasure Mr. Clark. Rest Easy.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes... Again

Instead of some carefully worded post with a fancy and lengthy intro paragraph I'm just going to cut to the chase with this one and get down to the details because I am just not sure how else to do it...

Because of everything recent going on with my health, my life is taking some major changes once again, and I can't say that it's been, or is going to be, easy. Since I've been so incredibly sick I unfortunately had to quit my job. It was one of the hardest things that I've had to do. I sat and agonized and shed a lot of tears over the decision for days but in the end it was really my only option. There was no way that I could return to work on the 16th and I was constantly worrying and stressing over getting myself better quicker than my body wanted to...  And on the other side of things, it was really unfair to my co-workers and my supervisor for me to ask for another extension on my personal leave because I wouldn't have been able to give my supervisor a reasonable return date, not to mention it just flat out sucks to be short staffed. I've been in that situation myself and it makes a wonderful job hell for awhile when you're really busy.

I had a very good talk with my supervisor and things went so much better than I expected them to. He was very understanding, said some very kind things to me and marked me down for rehire, which was not only flattering but a big relief knowing that I'm still in good standing with a company I love and that I would go back to work for in a heartbeat. It's really hard leaving my co-workers and this job.

To my co-workers (since you ran across my blog -- pshh stalkers ;-) Just kidding!) -- You guys deserve to know how awesome you are to work with. You were the ones who made me want to come to work each day, maybe not at 6am BUT you made it bearable ;-). You made working in IDRT really enjoyable despite all the wonderful samples we work with! ;-) I'm so sad that I only got 6 months to know each of you, and some of you even less time. Each of you have an amazing work ethic that I haven't ever had in co-workers before. You each really care about the work that you do and it's to be applauded! Keep up the good work and I really hope that someone in IDRT gets recognized for employee of the month -- I personally think you all should get it because you all deserve it that much!! Keep in touch - Of course I'm on facebook! https://www.facebook.com/NikkiPea12

Now secondly.... because I had to quit my job I'm forced to make some tough decisions. I no longer have the means to support myself, my insurance benefits are gone, and all the money that I was able to save up during the nearly 7 months that I worked is disappearing very quickly. I'm going to very quickly be in a financial bind with all of the medical bills that I have and with general expenses that come from being sick. I also am still pretty sick and I need my families support. So I've made the decision to move back closer to home. I just don't really see any other way. I can't go back to work or get another job right now, I can't do things by myself, and I hate having all of my stuff in two different places.

In all honestly I've been thinking about moving back closer to home for awhile now because things are just not the same as they were when I was married. But I suppose that's another blog post for another day because there is a lot to that.

I hate being in limbo. I'm kind of between a rock and a hard place trying to know what is 'right' and what is 'wrong' for me; my future, my health, my well being, and my happiness. I've just been taking everything day-by-day. I hate not having a plan -- hate it more than ever. But there really isn't a way to make a plan since I have no idea how I'm going to feel from day to day, no, really its been hour to hour.

So as of right now, I have a tentative plan that involves taking it day-by-day. I am going to fly back to SLC on Sunday. Ought to be an interesting and a difficult trip to make, but since I don't have a car and I'm not ready for my parents to help me move my things back, that's really my only option. I have to be in SLC by Wednesday for a study visit with my GI. While I'm in SLC I have to work everything out with my clinic to get my records back home. I also have to talk to my landlord about my lease since I'm supposed to live there until September. Hope that all works out. She has been really sympathetic of how sick I've been so I really hope that she'll understand. I just basically need to tie up a bunch of loose ends before I actually move.

Because this time it's not going to be for just a few months, or until I get back on my feet with my health. This time it's permanent. At least for several years. Many years. I plan to go to school back in KS, NE, or CO... I have many options of where I want to live out here. As long as it's within a couple hours of home (I'm not wanting to go much more than 4 hours away) I'll be okay. Easy access to family if I need them.

SO I'll be in Utah for an undetermined amount of time. It could be through May depending how long I am going to be required to pay rent. If I don't have to pay May's rent then I will be moved by the end of April.

With all of that being said -- I want to see my friends for the time that I'll be back. Yes I may be really sick and not up to doing much of anything. But if we got along, hung out, talked a lot, whatever the case may be, I want to spend some time with you before I move. It's hard leaving a place that I've called home for nearly 4 years. Of course I will visit Utah from time to time, but I can't always see everyone when I'm back. So if you'd like to spend some time together, please let me know! We'll work something out. I am thinking about having a get together at some point at some place before I leave with all of my friends; but that will be determined later.

I'm really bummed about all of this, but I'm trying to look at it as an opportunity for myself. I have to look at things as positive as I can because I feel pretty defeated at this point. I'm really looking forward to being closer to my family and building stronger relationships with them. I'm glad that I'm getting amazing support from not only my parents and sister, but my grandma as well. I'm happy to be back in an area that I used to love to hate on, but now have grown to greatly respect and miss when I'm gone. I'm excited for those summer storms that come through. I'm looking forward to having my own space again. I'm looking forward to opportunities that might arise, and keeping an open mind to everything. And I'm looking forward to the visits that I will make to Utah to see friends and for special occasions that makes our friendship even stronger.

So again... it's not goodbye... it's just a see-ya-later =)

High Hopes...

I've had this blog post titled for awhile now, but I never seem to know quite what to type. These last 2 months have been a couple of the hardest for me physically, mentally, and emotionally. I have been extremely sick with my IBD, which I have had for 11 years now.

It started off more-so as annoying symptoms, but each day it seemed to get a little bit worse. Day by day I noticed one more thing off about how I was feeling. Day by day I was noticing a slow decline in my health for about a month. All the while I was hoping that I'd come out of it. That if I followed a good diet, slept as much as I could, and just had the will to stay healthy maybe it was just a short episode of feeling ill. Deep down I knew that wasn't true. I knew that I was reaching, I guess kind of a point of no return.

So at that point I decided to break down and find a GI. It seemed to take me for ever and during the process I continued to decline. By the time I finally got through to doctors and got an appointment scheduled I realized that I was a lot sicker than I originally thought. I got to the point where I would have to go through a 10 hour shift at work with no food and eventually to the point where I couldn't even drink fluids for a full 10 hours because it would cause my GI tract to move. Which caused me spending each 15 minute break and my 30 minute lunch break in the bathroom with unbearable cramping and a terrifying amount of blood. This then led to complete exhaustion for the rest of the day. Upon arriving home when I thought it might be safe to eat at least some chicken broth and mashed potatoes, I was too tired and sick to cook myself food. The thought of putting nutrition in my body was repulsive because of the amount of pain that it caused me. I would either go to bed hungry and weak, or go to bed and be up at hour intervals throughout the night writhing in pain, bleeding terribly, and wondering if I would even make it to the next day.

I finally had to call into work and let my supervisor know how incredibly sick I had become. I then had to call HR so that I could figure out if there was anything that I could do because there was no way that work was an option for me. My days began consisting of sleep, pain, taking a bath to relax, bleeding, more sleep, more baths, and more and worsening pain. I quickly became bed bound barely even able to move from my bed to the bathroom. Food became my worse enemy so much that I had to stop eating. Ensure even became impossible to endure. I was running off of no nutrition and my muscles were atrophying at a scary rate. My weight began dropping .5 lbs to 1 pound a day. I had no choice but to apply for personal leave at work.

Unfortunately this left me with a lot of fear. Personal leave does not protect my job. I have not been working the year required to get FMLA which would protect my job. At any point I could be asked to leave due to staffing needs of the lab. At no point am I guaranteed to be able to return to work, even if I do get to feeling better. At first it seemed like everyone was going to work with me, and they did. But The return date on my leave approached at a very rapid pace.

My mom came out to help me for about 10 days and it was so necessary and helped me a huge deal. Just her being there in the room as I writhed in pain was a support that I desperately was missing and desperately needed. She helped me to the ER, helped me through the very bad pain, helped me through the tears, and helped me through all of my fears.

I was expected to return to work by April 2nd. After being put on a clinical trial, getting the screening done for it, and then getting my scopes and blood work done, my fear of being able to return to work only deepened. As my mom was here I continued to be sick. There were times where I felt a little bit better and was able to eat small amounts of food -- but it was only due to pain medication that I was able to eat and gain a little bit of strength. I went in about 4 hour stents of feeling okay, then I would have a majorly painful attack of pain, be in the bathroom cramping and bleeding, take a bath to relieve my pain, and then take another pain pill so that I could rest and nap to get up my strength to be able to endure it all again in another 4-5 hours.

I was desperate for relief from this new clinical trial medication. I was planning the things that I would be able to do after starting it. For some reason in my mind I thought it may be my miracle medication like Remicaide once was for me. I took it, and within the next day I was feeling like a brand new person. I had it planned that I did my first injection on Monday and I was hoping by Wednesday I would at least feel the cramping lessen and maybe be able to eat a little bit of food. But I was let down. I was let down a lot. Within the first week, I noticed no difference. The only way I was able to eat was still with pain medication every 4-5 hours. Still having pain that made me writhe, bleed, and cry. But I needed nutrition and food, so I continued to eat and bear through the pain. Very difficult but necessary.

If I was going to return to work in a few short days it was necessary to get my strength back. At that point it was difficult for me to walk even short distances. I had no muscle strength. I couldn't bend down with my knees without some assistance of getting back up. Sitting up was hard to do for long periods of times. Naps were needed every 4-5 hours just to get me through the next 4-5 hours. A shower completely drained all of my energy. And then brushing my hair and looking presentable drained any energy I gained by sitting there for an hour trying not to fall asleep.

As the days drew closer of my mom having to leave and my return to work imminent I started to panic and fear. I felt like I was being rushed to get better. I was so frustrated the loss of control that I had over my health. My body. My life. I was scared of being on my own again without the support from my mom and I was terrified of having to go back to work still so sick. In fact I begin to not understand how of earth I could go back to work in the state that I was in. I needed more recovery time. This is something that couldn't be rushed. So a day before my mom left and a day before the weekend I made the difficult call to my supervisor that there is no way I would be able to return to work on the intended date. I was just too sick and not getting better yet.

He was hesitant. And I could tell in his voice he was upset about it. I can't say I blame him -- being short staffed at work is incredibly hard and overwhelming. But it was very discouraging to me. Yes he was frustrated with my delayed return... but dang it so was I. I got words to the effect of "It just gets very hard on the team having people gone so long" and my heart immediately sank and tears welded up in my eyes before I even got off the phone. For the first time the fear was real that my job is on the line.

I worked it out with my GI and HR to get my leave extended through the 15th of April so that my return to work date is the 16th of April. I could tell in my supervisors voice that even though he approved this, he wasn't happy with it. I was told that extending anything through the 15th was going to be "playing with fire" or some term like that. If I can't go back to work by the 16th, I will likely lose my job and with that being said I don't know what on Earth I will do.

I desperately wish that I could end the story there. Tell you that I am feeling so much better, that I'm gaining my strength back, and that the reason that I wrote that all in past tense is because that's what it is... in the past. But it's not. I am fearing for my health, my strength, my hope, and of course my job.

I was hopeful that my week two injection of Methotrexate was going to help me. But unfortunately week two started with a very severe sore throat, numbness in my limbs, and feeling worse than I have in a very long time. After a trip to the ER thinking that I may be having a weird allergic reaction, and then having nothing done in the ER except the ability to severely piss me off, I went to my primary care doctor and was diagnosed with a very severe case of strep throat with ulcerations and being told that I am once again showing signs of anemia and will likely need to start iron infusions.

To someone healthy, this may not be a huge deal and recovery is within a couple 3 days after starting antibiotics. But to me, this is a huge disappointment and an enormous set back. It caused me to not be able to eat for 3 days again and I have been completely bed bound once again for at least the last 5 days. Because of this I have lost 5 additional pounds leaving me with only 111 pounds to work with. My strength has deteriorated even more and my muscle mass is nearly non existant. The walking that I did with my mom, and the food I tried so hard to consume when she was here so that I could start to get better feels like a huge waste. I lost it all because of lack of care in the ER when I needed it and a stupid horrible case of strep throat and anemia.

I feel like I'm back at square one. Clear back to where I started. I am so  frustrated and I'm feeling completely discouraged. I have tried to have so much hope through all of this. Maybe the next day will be better. Maybe the medication will finally start to help me tomorrow. Maybe I will be able to take one less pain pill. But right now my hope is nearly completely drained. My hopes were far too high for this medication. For a quick recovery. For the road to recovery. For health.

It is just plain scary how sick I have gotten. When I realize the state that my body is in it's almost disbelief. I don't know how I'm pushing on each and every day feeling like I am. Today has been a complete shocker to me and has brought me to tears multiple times. I have realized the amount of strength that I no longer have. I went to fix me an egg sand which for some protein and flavor and the effort it took was huge. The effort it took to stand for more than a minute at a time. The effort it took to get up and down from a chair with my legs nearly giving out each and every time. The effort it took after all of that just to eat. Just to eat. To take this sand which with my hand, put it up to my mouth and chew.... the EFFORT that took was unreal. By the time I got a few bites in I was done. My appetite gone, intestinal pain quickly coming, and complete exhaustion just to make me food to keep me alive.

It's scary. And I am once again feeling so rushed to get better. Recovery is going to take so much time and effort, and I haven't even gotten to the recovery stage yet. I'm still fighting this never ending battle to get healthy. To be pain free. To be able to walk down the short hall, up 5 or 6 stairs to get the mail and then back again without feeling like I might collapse and pass out.

I have never, ever before been this sick in my entire life. I so badly wish I could will my body to corporate with the effort I am putting in to being compliant even though nothing seems to be working right now. I'm terrified this new medication is not going to work at all. I'm 3 days away from my third injection and so far I feel about the same as I did when I started. Once again, pain medication being the only thing that's helping me survive. If this medication doesn't work, I have to start back at square one with a new medication that I've been on before and didn't seem to help me. I have to play the waiting game with that one, too. Do an injection once a week or every other week and just wait and see if it will work. If not, then it's on to last ditch attempts at avoiding surgery and a life forever changed.

I have 10 days... 10 days to get healthy, start to recover, and gain enough strength to get through a 70 hour work week. I don't see how it's possible when I'm still in such a crappy state. I was trying so hard not to look at it in terms of how many days I had left. It was my goal to just work really hard every single day to gain some strength back... but then I was knocked down with additional problems making that impossible.

I'm fearful that next week I am going to have to call my supervisor and notify him of my need to quit due to the status of my health. I love my job. I love my co-workers, and I love my supervisor. It's not fair to my co-workers to be stuck working overtime constantly and doing double their work. I don't know what I would do without this job... but I'm am stressing way too much. I don't know how I'm going to be well enough to return and properly do my job without wearing my body down even more.

What I want desperately more than anything (aside from feeling better, of course... I want my health back over ANYTHING), is to go back home and have the support of my family. I have a great support system here, but nothing like what my own family can offer me. Unfortunately I don't know that that is an option right now. I just feel so stuck. So dang helpless. I feel trapped in this sickly body with no escape. I need help right now, help that I can't ask people here. I need around the care help to get my strength up and it's REALLY hard to admit that because I hate asking for help. But it's so very true right now. =(

This has been an incredibly hard journey for me in more ways than you even realize. So much harder than anything I have expressed here. I'm not sure where things are going to lead. I don't know what is the right or wrong thing to do. I am just trying to hold out hope that something happens, soon,  or that I get a very obvious answer of what I need to be doing.

Your constant thoughts and prayers are so desperately needed right now. I'm at such a low point with my health I just want to surrender.....