Bad Dreams

I can only hope for the day when technology can record dreams. Mine would make a technicolor mint on the big screen. I'm not sure how they got in the vein of horror, though, since I don't watch those sorts of movies in real life.
Imagine, if you will, a group of people renovating an old school building. The day is stormy and the building has no electricity, leaky pipes, lots of trash and rubble. A wall and floor is missing, so upon entering the building you can look down to the basement where the gym locker rooms are - there's a bathtub and broken tiles and condensation dripping down the walls creating lines of mold and mildew. Suddenly the building is rocked by a tremendous gust of wind. A tornado has sprung up out of the story clouds and glass and debris fly everywhere. The group of people try to shelter themselves and their children the best they can, but when the storm is over everyone is injured. Mothers scream to find their babies and children cry as shards of glass bite deep into their tender feet and palms.
Cut to a few days later. The building has been wrapped in Tyvek and the windows have been boarded so the inside is darker than ever. While the workers go about their tasks, the property manager enters the building with an acid to strip away the rust on the locker room facilities. From an upper floor he starts spraying the acid - over the bathtub, tiles and people below. They scream and writhe as the acid burns their skin and blinds them. As they stumble over one another, desperately trying to find a safe place, the manager lights a fuse and a series of explosions begin to tear the inside of the building apart. There is one small hole to the outside - a sealed air vent - that is their only hope of escape. As the flames and smoke fill the air and choke out life they work to enlarge the hole big enough to get out. But it's no use. They die - choking, burning, screaming in agony.
Fun, huh? That's what woke me up at 1/4 to 4 this morning.

Heartbroken Ramblings

What is love? Does it ultimately come down to self sacrifice (like giving your life)? Even if it comes with pleasure, why would you invest yourself significantly in something that would cost so dearly in the end? I know I'm a selfish being, maybe more selfish than most - but even the people for whom I'd say I'd gladly give my life - I don't feel like I can give my all in being alive. I don't know what it means to love someone so much that you'd weigh every decision against their happiness - or consistently choose their happiness over you own. I guess if the choices coincide it's a happy coincidence, but what if they don't? What if it's big? Do you live with that decision the rest of your life? Was it really that important to you if you can just let it go? Or even let it go with difficulty?
We hear so much these days about 'taking care of yourself' and 'taking time for yourself' and 'letting you be you' and a whole bunch of other pop psych phrases. How many are really valid? If you're a mom and you feel like you need 'me time" - do you really need it or do you just want it and could do just fine without if you refocus your priorities to the ones you love - your children - whom you would gladly die for? I don't know a mother out there who wouldn't say she wouldn't die for her kids. But I also know that the vast majority of those mothers would say they need their 'me time' time to 'recharge' so they can 'be better moms'. Really? Wouldn't the best mom be there serving her children all the time?
The same can be said for husbands and wives. There are couples that take separate vacations - tons of 'ladies' meetings and 'mens' meetings in the church. I'm sure those could easily be justified as ways to make you a better wife or husband. Maybe it all depends on your attitude. How many things can be justified as making you a better person - for the ones you love - while getting you away from the ones you love? Do you really go to those meetings, events, dates, places with betterment of yourself for others in mind? Does it really have to be either or?
And what happens when your emotions don't feel the way they're supposed to? Even they way you want them to? Do you go with your gut? Your emotions? Saying 'this is what the real me wants and it will make me a better person not to deny myself'? Do you deny yourself and say 'this is what I know I should do so I'm going to do it no matter how it makes me feel.'? My guess would be that most people (Christians anyway) would say the latter. And then what? Suck it up and deal? What about when the dealing gets rough? Where's love then?
I can make choices - consistently make choices that deny my emotions but that doesn't mean my emotions change. It doesn't mean I don't struggle off and on with my choices. It doesn't even mean my emotions will ever really change. Where does that leave me? Where does that leave the ones I love? The ones who are depending on those choices?
I don't think the easy path is the right path and I don't expect a life without conflict, I just wish it were a life with resolution. I'd like a different problem, please.

I'm eating cereal for lunch. It's a combination of 4 different types since there were just the ends of bags and not enough of any for a full bowl. Honey Nut Cheerios, Chocolate Mini Wheats, Captain Crunch and Clifford cereal (which is like a really bland cheerio). It's not terrible. I haven't had much of an appetite lately, for whatever reason. I mostly eat because I know it's time to eat and I start feeling nauseated (but not hungry) if I wait too long.
I will be very happy when nap time rolls around today. All I've done is the dishes and I'm exhausted. I cannot wait to feel normal and get back in to exercising again. I felt better while I was doing it, but there's no way I can now. And I kinda hope I have my next surgery right away so I don't get into it and then out of it again. I just want the new normal to happen.

Complaining

I'm bored. I got up this morning and did dishes and Bob yelled at me, so I went back to bed and slept until just a little bit ago.
My left arm and hand are swollen. I slept with them propped up and the swelling went down but as soon as I started moving around again, they puffed up again. That's on the list of "Things to Watch For" given by the hospital. The last thing I want to do is go back to get checked out. But it's disconcerting.
I haven't started my reorganization of photos yet, though it would be a perfect job for laying in bed. However, taking 1 vocodin every 2 hours is successfully keeping me in such a state of spaciness, I really can't do much Seriously. You have no idea how long it's taken me to write these three paragraphs.
My dreams on vicodin are crazy and I've had bits of Schoolhouse Rock songs stuck in my head for days as well.
The thing that bothers me most is that I know this isn't the end. I have at least one more surgery coming up and then a whole bunch of trial and error tests to try to get my hormone levels correct, which I can only imagine is going to be hell. I have issues with hormones as it is. I hate trial and error. It can go on forever and you're never sure if you have it just right. It just stretches out before me as months of not feeling right.
I hate that Bob misses so much work because of me. At least 1/2 of his vaca days have been used on me - because I've been sick. I feel like some sort of invalid or leech. I'm a drain on his society, his wallet, his life. And I've saddled him with 4 kids. I just hate it. I hate sitting in bed doing nothing, I hate feeling like crap and not pulling my own weight. I hate having all of this affect his life in such negative ways. And to top it all off, things are probably going to suck for the foreseeable future.
They really ought to add vicodin to the spelling list so it doesn't keep getting highlighted.
I hope at least my body is healed by the time the weather warms up. My plans have been to turn off the TV and computers and everything with a screen and go outside. But I don't want to just sit out there reading a book, I want to clean up the backyard and move rocks and pull weeds and trim trees and such. It's just so hard for me to sit still and do nothing.
I feel incredibly guilty about Bob's level of care and attention to me. I don't deserve it in the least. It makes all this even harder. I don't really like anyone having to take care of me, but he has reasons not to and he does anyway. It's a very hard pill for me to swallow. It's not that I don't appreciate it - I do. But I probably don't appreciate it as much as I should - selfish being that I am.
Ug. I just wish I could make everything right.
And I still want another baby. I ache I want one so badly. But it will take a true miracle for a baby boy to be given to us in a way that we can afford.
I need to sleep. Damn these drugs. I love that they take away the pain, but they've reduced my brain to absolute mush.