I don't care how big you get in life, there are days that all you want is your mama. Yesterday was that day for me. If you've been following my blog, you know I've been having pain since my surgeries. I really try not to talk about it much because I know all the talk is just plain wearing on both me and my friends. Who likes the doom and gloomy friend? So, I keep it in check, or I blog about it. :)
But regardless, I've been in pain for about two weeks now and I haven't been able to get the pain under control with just Tylenol and ibuprofen. It's been a vicious cycle. So I finally gave in on Monday night and upped the ante to Percocet. I HATE drugs (which, I'm very aware I need to get over in the coming months, but hey--this is an honest blog, I'll never lie to you about what I think and feel). I took the Percocet as prescribed every four hours by my doc. And yep, the pain went away. BUT, it brought with it dizziness, vertigo and hours and hours of being violently ill. For the life of me, I cannot figure out how people get addicted to Percocet (I know we all have our vices, but....), this crap makes me feel VILE.
Like curl up in a little ball and whimper for your mommy kind of vile.
Which I did.
And I called her and told her I just wanted to hear her voice. And I think I made her feel bad because she's a mom just like me and she doesn't like her baby hurting anymore than I like having my kids hurt. We were pitiful together. She told me how people were amazed at how strong I was. And I laughed. I told her, I don't think people would think I'm all that strong if they saw me now. A pale, shaking, barfing, stooped, shadow of myself. There was no strong in this picture....a lot of pitiful. A good bit of whining and a lot of feeling like a little kid that just wants mama to take it all away.
If you've read my book (if not, go buy it here!) you'll know that my mama was one of the greatest formative forces in not only my faith but me as a person. I love my mama and I'm not afraid to say it. :) And when I'm pitiful and not remotely strong, she's the person I call to get a good dose of sympathy or a swift kick in the rear.
I worry a little bit (OK, A LOT), about how I will tolerate the chemo. I'm a puker (my son gets it from me) and it is sincerely the one side effect that I would choose to avoid at all costs. It takes like 3 anti-nausea meds to keep me from puking from surgery and that doesn't always work. I hate to throw up. Because once it starts....it doesn't stop for at least 24 hours. And I worry that if the Percocet would do this to me, it will be infinitely worse when my system is hit up with something far stronger.
It is what it is and I won't know till I know...but I'm pretty sure that if it's bad, the first thing I'll want is my mama.