We went to rehab at 1015. I put her in her reindeer jammies, since it was cold out, and I packed her jumperoo into the car. I left her sleeping and set up the jumperoo when I got there, then brought Eisley inside. Kim (therapist) asked why I didn't just bring her carseat in and let her keep sleeping and I let her know that we have a convertible carseat, so it doesn't get to leave the car.
Eisley bounced around while I side-stepped on the treadmill, then we moved Eis over by the tables, since that's where I was headed. Kim mashed on my sore spot in my thoracic spine, then worked her way up my spine a bit, then out to the left, over my ribs and it was so agonising. I had no idea that I was messed up out there, but that's obviously where the pain was starting. Then she mashed on my SI and it killed, too! My body was very unhappy with me and Kim was fighting my muscles. Next, she had me sit up and she mashed on my traps. Holy crap! It was painful. However, it felt so much better after and even now.
I did some exercises, then packed up and headed home. Eis was asleep by the time I got home, so I shut the garage to keep the cold/wind out, opened a car door, and opened the door to the laundry room and hung out while she napped in the car. When she woke up, I changed her diaper, nursed her, then we headed out to pick up my new prescription for thyroid meds.
I had spoken with Walgreens, since they told me they didn't have the right dosage, and I asked them what the new dosage would be. They told me, "Point eight eight." Then I called Dr. E's office to ask them to move the prescription to a different pharmacy. I asked the nurse to tell me the dosage and she said, "Point eight eight." When I got to the pharmacy, the guy (probably the only guy of all the people there, who DIDN'T know how to deal with Tricare insurance) said he'd help, then spent five minutes on the phone trying to figure out how to help. Eventually, he gave me my meds and the pharmacist spoke to me about them and said they were, "Point oh eight eight."
Ummmm. Huge difference. One is almost nine times higher than my original dosage of point one. The other is just barely lower. So, that was a surprise. I knew the nurse at Dr. E's office was an idiot because she's had her arm on the scale at least twice when weighing Eisley and thought nothing of the weird-ass weights. However, it was surprising to know that one of the pharmacists of Walgreens was an idiot, too. Though the biggest surprise was learning that instead of a .88 dosage, I was getting .088.
I called my parents and talked to them and was frustrated because I am losing my hair. I didn't mind the cancer because me having cancer wouldn't effect Eisley's development, whereas if I had hormone problems, it could delay her developmentally -- as the problem began when Eis was just a fetus. I didn't mind the two surgeries because they were fairly small, as far as I'm concerned, and I knew it was for the best. However, I am NOT ok with the effects of all of these things. It's just too much. And, unfortunately, I keep being told, "Try not to stress because that could make it worse."
Ok. Yeah, no problem. I'll continue to see balding patches on my head and remain calm. Oh, and I'll pretend Tyler's here and just supremely unhelpful, instead of across the world playing with death.
Anyway, my parents said I looked fine on Sunday and it's probably fine. Needless to say, I emailed them pictures and they didn't say I was being dramatic. They apologised. That's never good because it means I'm right and there's reason to be upset. Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do, except wait for my hormone levels to even out and then wait for my hair to grow back. Should be six month minimum. Too bad the rest of my hair can continue to fall out in the meantime.
Eis took another nap in the car when we got home. Then she played in the bouncer and I watched Die Hard 3 and started watching Buried.
I'm really upset about this hair thing. I feel like it's just one thing too many. I'm tired of not having friends to talk to or to see. I am appreciative of my parents, but I need more than them and I need relationships that they cannot provide.
I can handle no friends. I have for 15 years. But right now, I can't handle no friends and no husband. He's probably the only one in the Brigade who missed his baby's birth. Did he get to come home for my surgery? No. And it makes me harbour such feelings of loathing and hostility toward his job and those for and with whom he works.
I have no one to talk to and I'm tired of it. As embarrassing as it is to post these, I think I should get used to being hideous in public. You can see where my hairline used to be and how over a square inch is gone on both sides...
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