I woke up to the phone ringing yesterday and it was the doctor's office. I guess my mammogram results came back to show that I have a lump in my right breast. So, I have to go get ANOTHER one and possibly an ultrasound too, next week. So of course, now I get to sit and worry and get all worked up about this for an entire damned WEEK until my appointment, and even then I might not know what's going on for several more days afterwards. GRRRR.
Then, as the day ended, Pete took me out for a movie. I used to LOVE the t.v. show "Land of the Lost," so we figured that might be a good choice to go see...however...I think Sid & Marty Croft really must be stoned to the gills and blitzed all of their brain cells in the 70's because this movie was NOTHING like the t.v. show that I used to love. It wasn't even very funny either.
And the worst part of the day was when we were driving home, and about 1 or 2 miles from our house, my car started to surge, like the transmission was off or something, and then the next thing we knew, the car wouldn't move at all. So, we had to sit and wait for a damned tow truck, (thankfully we have Triple A for that), and then we had to call and wake up Nathan to come get us, and he had to leave Florence all alone to do that, so I was a nervous wreck about the whole thing, and as I sat there cleaning out my car and trying to gather items I didn't want stolen by the mechanics, (CD's and such....yeah, I know, who would steal CDs of Norah Jones, Audioslave, Etta James, Frank Sinatra, Disturbed, Rob Zombie, and Journey?)....but anyway, as I was doing this, Pete walked across the street to a Taco Bell to use the bathroom.
Out of nowhere, as I sat there alone in the dark, with the hazard lights on, with cars passing by at breakneck speed, I suddenly felt like the whole world was just crashing down on me. I began to have a nasty panic attack, and then the tears started to fall and I just blubbered like an idiot the whole time until we got home. I had a bit of a meltdown, unfortunately, and the only thing that I wanted to do was hide in a hold somewhere, and just get the day overwith. Instead, I took a Valium and went to bed.
Pete bought me a new recliner chair so that I can sleep in it at night and not wake up with back pain like I have been for 3 weeks. Believe it or not, the chair works wonders, I have now had 2 days of no pain when I wake up, and I think it's because my back is not getting any pressure on it. He says to sleep in it for a week and see how I feel, then try the bed again. So, I may just cancel the stupid orthopedic specialist appointment if it goes away. I'd rather throw $300 at a new recliner chair than to deal with medical idiots in my face giving me grief.
But now my car is in the shop, and apparently the radiator burst and caused the transmission line to burst, so it's going to cost about $700 or more to fix it. SIGH. I'm about ready to drink myself into total oblivion if I get anymore bad news. I mean SHIT I have scoliosis in my back now, so I'm going to end up being a hunchbacked cripple in a wheelchair and NOW I have a stupid LUMP in my boob so I'll have to cut the whole thing OFF and shave my hair and be a stupid damned victim of breast cancer like Melissa Etheridge, and I just don't think I have the strength to go through all that shit. Ya know? I'm a wuss, deep down, I really am.
We took Pete's mom to the hospital yesterday for a CT Scan of her head, because she feel a few times and bonked her beaner, so we want to make sure that nothing is wrong there. Inside this same department was the cancer center, and I saw a gift shop that had nothing but hats, wigs and scarves for cancer patients to wear...I saw pamphlets and brochures about dealing with breast cancer everywhere, and I read an article in a magazine about a woman who went through breast cancer at age 34. Her five year old son told her, "you're not going to die from it mom, it's just a hair cut," when she had to shave her head due to the radiation and chemotherapy.
So, of course, all of this churned in my brain all day long but I didn't tell Pete's mom about it, because I didn't want to upset her or anything. So I held it all in all day long, feeling like a diseased freak, with bugs crawling all inside my right boob, disgusted with myself, wanting to take a knife and cut my boob off myself so it would just go away and leave me the hell alone. All of these irrational thoughts kept going through my head and all I could do was smile and pretend everything was okay, so it's no surprise by the end of the day I just couldn't handle it anymore and I just let loose and had a meltdown.
Then I found out in the middle of the day that my best friend's dad (who is very much like a second dad to ME too), had a mild heart attack the other day and was in the hospital getting 3 stints put into his artery that was completely blocked, so he really could have just died then and there. But now he's doing better and is going to be going home today or tomorrow.
It was a rather bad day, to say the least. So, Pete's friend Clara had given me some Valium pills just in case, and I finally took my first one last night. I am LIKING that stuff, I gotta tell ya. Oh yessssss...I can see why they call it "Mother's Little Helper." Good stuff, that valium.
Well, today had BETTER be better, or I'm gonna start throwing razor blades at people randomly in a crowd just for shits and giggles. I've had it. Of course I am only kidding about that, but still, the urge sometimes gets me to feel better, knowing I could mutilate others at any moment, for the grief the whole world seems to cause me from time to time. I'm just weird that way. But as the Beatles once said, "Whatever gets you through the night." Right??? And so I will continue to cling to my irrational and violent fantasies of anti-socialism that make me smile an evil smile, and even though I may LOOK mild mannered and boring on the outside, the thought of pinching off my doctor's head and stepping on it brutally until it's flattened, tend to soothe and calm the inner beast who wants to scream and throw a tantrum within.
Bye for now. Love, Becky
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