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Pot Chocolate

*I wrote most of this while we were still living in California four years ago and I kept on going back and forth about whether or not I should publish it. Maine is a place where you can also get medical marijuana. I’ve been having a terrible time with PTSD after losing Ben in 2013 and decided to get my medicinal card again last year because my prescribed antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication wasn’t working that well for me.

I’ve had chronic pain for so long from a few different ailments I have, including fibromyalgia. Over the years, I’ve never found much sympathy from doctors. I also have anxiety, depression, and panic attacks (I’m such a ball of fun) that has been kicking my ass for a while. I would occasionally try different medications but nothing would work or if the medication did, I would have side effects along with it.

Since I’ve been miserable for years, my husband suggested something to me that really took me by surprise. It shocked the hell out of me when he suggested trying medical marijuana.

I have always been one who never understood why alcohol, that can cause so much harm i.e, alcoholism, drunk driving, violence, etc, is legal but when it comes to pot, the worst that can happen is downing a bag of cheetos and watching Titanic for the 500th time. That last sentence is served with a small side of sarcasm. I know pot has its own demons. I just can’t think of any right now.

Obviously, you have to be a dumbfuck if you use either one and then drive. It’s only for use when I’m in for the night and after my daughter has gone to bed. Just had to throw that in.

I had smoked marijuana when I was younger but now here I am, older, a wife, and mom, so at first I thought there was absolutely no way. I also was really surprised that my husband even suggested it in the first place because he’s very, VERY straight-laced.

Not long after, I had an awful pain flare up and knew something had to be done with this pain I’m in most of the time. Since I live in a state where medical marijuana is legal, I made an appointment to see a doctor about getting a medicinal marijuana card when I was still living in California.

After I got my card, I had to do the deed. Get the courage to go to a medicinal marijuana depository. I had absolutely no idea what to expect. The night before I went, I kept thinking what it would be like to go to one of these places.

The next day when I walked into the depository, my mouth dropped. The place was spotless, the “flowers” were in glass containers, while the edibles where in glass cases.

The first thing they did was go through my paperwork I received from the doctor and then they put me in their computer. During this time, I was still feeling like I was doing something atrocious.

As I was standing there, surrounded by pot, I started panicking some, with the feeling like I was going to get busted for being in a place like this.

Then I was greeted by a woman who immediately put me at ease. There were so many different types of things I could get. Suckers, cookies, gum, ice cream, pretzels, etc.

Because of my chronic pain, I was recommended a tincture. It has more cannabinoids that combats pain and has less THC which is what gives you that “high” feeling.

While I was there, I discovered something that has become my favorite. Pot chocolate bars. They look just like regular chocolate bars which brings me to this.

Having a kid in the house with something like this made me really think about the safest place to keep it and it is way out of her reach. Hell, I even have trouble reaching my edibles off of the closet shelf.

I had such guilt at first that I have a child and here I was, eating some of a cookie or chocolate bar with something herbal. I haven’t told very many of my friends yet because I feel like I would be ostracized. Now they know. *waves*

I have to tell you, in the past few months, I have been feeling better. I’m actually able to get off my ass sometimes and exercise and I can take my child to the playground or go get our nails done with relative ease, less pain, and not as much panic. It’s been such a great experience to feel like I now have more freedom because of the reduction of the pain I have.

I didn’t write this with the intention of stirring up the pot, pun intended. I just wanted to share my story and let you know I’m a regular mom who has a beautiful family, chronic pain, and PTSD, among other things and now I have pot chocolate and CBD’s to alleviate my pain and anxiety so I can be more productive in my everyday life.

The pain I have is still there and the scars I have from losing my son will take time to heal as much as they can but my mental health and physical pain is more manageable with medicinal marijuana. I’m starting to live a life with less discomfort from my chronic pain and panic.

Out of all the things I’ve tried for many years, since my early 20’s, medical marijuana has been the closest to helping me live my life in the best and most normal way possible.

The stigma over marijuana needs to stop and I hope that it will someday be seen as a much more beneficial way of treating many ailments that people have, instead of being seen as this imaginary evil that people may make of it.

I believe if we all shared a joint and a bag of Funyuns, it could help us get closer to world peace.

Comments { 3 }

Stoned

This is long, boring, and unneccessary but I wanted to put the frustrations I’ve been having into words. I mentioned before how I’ve been going through medical issues for the past year and a half and I was going to leave it at that. But, I bitch and whine to my husband about it so much, I thought writing about it would help. I swear, I get the weirdest fucking medical problems. I’ve had an issue of getting salivary stones for years.

I never even knew something like this existed and for seven years, I would get this horrible pain on the right side of my neck when I ate or drank anything. I could feel the submandibular salivary gland get hard as a rock and cause so much pain and itchiness from below my chin, up into my right ear.

It may not seem like a big issue but I couldn’t even take a sip of water without the salivary gland flaring up.

When we moved to Seattle, I was finally able to see civillian doctors instead of military ones and the ENT there diagnosed me. I had surgery to take out the stone within the week. My one request was if she was able to save the stone, I would love to see what was making my life hell for seven years. She was more than happy to oblige and I still have that damn stone in a box somewhere.

After that, I would get frequent infections and flare ups in that gland. I had the option years ago to have that gland taken out but I was really hesitant. To be honest, it was because of the horrible experiences I’ve had with military doctors over the years and the incompetence so, there was no way I wanted one of those doctor’s to cut me open.

Things seemed to simmer down until last August when I had this horrible pain in the gland and it got so bad, I could barely move my tongue. Luckily for my husband, I wasn’t able to talk much for a few days until the antibiotics kicked in and I got some relief.

It cleared up, or so I thought, and then boom, it came back a few weeks later. I was referred to an ENT and he was pretty quick to say the gland really needs to come out. The hesitation came back about having this surgery, especially since I had three others within months of this one.

But, I decided to finally get it over and done with once and for all. The doctor didn’t feel the need to do a CT scan which still pisses me off because he didn’t think I had any stones in there and it was just the salivary gland that was infected. I had the surgery and I thought I was fucking done with all of the medical shit I had been dealing with.

Just when I had celebrated being done with this bullshit forever, the symptoms came back. The itchiness, the pain, and additionally, something that felt like a hot fire poker on the floor of my mouth. This time, a CT scan was done and yes, I was stoned from another stone. The ENT also noticed that a fucking hole was what had developed in the floor of my mouth as a way for my body to try and expel the stone that had been in there for who knows how long.

I know. It’s really fucking gross.

I had surgery for that five months ago and again, thought I was done. done. done.

Nope. Not even close.

I come to find out that the duct to the submandibular salivary gland was still in there because there’s a nerve to the tongue that wraps around the duct and it can be tricky to take out. It can cause permanent paralysis on the right side of the tongue.

Oh joy.

I could also tell at this point that the ENT didn’t know what the fuck to do with me. So, he put me on antibiotics.

The infection went away.

Then it came back and he put me on antibiotics again.

Basically, my whole summer was spent dealing with these gross infections and taking an overload of antibiotics which I absolutely hate. I not only worry about antibiotic resistance but also, if feels like my stomach is being shredded. I’ve been on half a dozen different kinds of antibiotics and also found out by way of another CT scan I had in August is that there are now smaller stones in my sublingual salivary gland.

Fucking fuck.

I was frustrated, my doctor was frustrated, and I was pissed off. I don’t feel like my normal self at all. My body is tired of fighting these infections. My ENT finally waved the white flag and referred me to a doctor in Boston.

I saw him last week and he hasn’t seen my scan results yet but felt at least two stones in the floor of my mouth.

His plan is to take out that fucking duct that’s probably causing these stones, and taking out however many stones are actually in there… besides the two he felt.

It looks like the surgery will take place in the next few months.

So, that’s where I’m at now…. hurry up and wait. That’s what it feels like. This new ENT doctor wants to act fast but there’s that waiting game of making sure this is the best plan of action.

This whole thing has my anxiety so out of whack. I just hope that soon I’ll be feeling healthier again.

Hopefully, more like myself than I’ve felt in the last 18 months.

Comments { 2 }

Just Give Me A Damn Snickers Bar And A Heating Pad

I’ve been feeling blah for the past few days so I’ve been reading a lot of magazines in bed. I’ve been seeing ads that say shit like “Have a happy period.”

What the fuck is that about?

Maybe it’s because I have fibroids and have really, REALLY heavy periods but I’m in hell for a good four days.

Have a happy period?!

Yeah, the only way I’ll have a happy period is if you prop me up on the couch with a straw in a vodka bottle and a pallet of chocolate.

When I have my period, I want to yell at everyone within hearing range to know how much they annoy me just by their existence because my crampy ass has to make a run to the store for more tampons and that chocolate cupcake I saw in the bakery section that I should have gotten when I went to the store the day before for more over the counter pain medicine.

Then, I’ll want to eat everything in sight and say fuck it, go to 5 Guys for a cheeseburger, and moan like a monkey in heat when eating their Cajun seasoned french fries.

Have a happy period, you say?!

Tell that to my piercing back cramps and lack of energy.

I love the ad for tampons where a woman is going down the water slide and they say something like, “Don’t let your period slow you down.”

When I see that commercial, it should go something like this, instead:

The camera pans to the woman in a bikini because nope, she’s not bloated from her fucking period. She has a full box of happy period tampons in a beach bag and they show her walking out of the restroom in the second shot.

The woman goes over to the wave pool and dips her toes in the water. She laughs maniacally because hey, she’s having a happy period! Woo-hoo for happy periods. And these happy period tampons have a morphine drip included in the box.

She slowly walks into the wave pool and when the water hits waist height, you hear this noise of water going down the drain and making a slurping noise.

The camera shows this guilty look on her face and she shrugs her shoulders. “Oops, did I do that?”

Her happy period tampons are so super absorbent, one tampon sucked up a whole wave pool.

Those are tampons I would buy.

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The Big V

I was really wanting to have another baby but my uterus isn’t having it. I had another miscarriage this past July and was ripped apart. Infertility is such a mindfuck. It’s consumed me for years. After this last miscarriage, I told my husband I can’t go through anymore and that we are done in the having babies department.

I finally told my husband he needs to get snipped. It’s really time. With all of the surgeries I’ve had, I couldn’t imagine going in for another fucking surgery to get my tubes tied. My husband went to the doctor not long after I told him I can’t go through another pregnancy loss and before I knew it, the time recently came for the vasectomy.

Woo hoo! I didn’t know I would be so happy. I’ve been dealing with all kinds of birth control methods all these years and it’s going to be so nice to not have to worry from my end anymore. We’re not going to have the freedom until about four months after the surgery since they have to test his sperm at the three-month mark and the four-month mark.

I’ll be honest. This has me overcome with emotion since I know I’m ready to close down the baby factory but this closes a big chapter in my life. I always wanted to have at least two kids but I know I’m very lucky that I have one. My heart goes out to the women who’ve been trying for years to have a baby and haven’t been able to.

It also stings when my daughter tells me she would still really like to have a brother or sister.

But, I know this is for the best, especially because I didn’t have to go through the big V. My husband is always so calm, cool, and collected so I was stressing out about the procedure for him.

Which leads me into the prep for his surgery. Let me just say, this is the first time in a long time that I’ve had to share a bathroom with my husband since we moved into our new house last year. His shaved facial hair trimmings drive me mad because they get all over the sink and he’s apparently blind to it.

While preparing for the big V, I now know there’s something worse than facial hair trimmings.

My husband had to shave his balls the night before and ewwww, the hairy ball hair got all over the sink and he set the shaver right by our toothbrush holder. To top it off, there was a pile of pubes teetering in our bathroom trash, just waiting to fall over all over the floor.

I gagged my way through cleaning some of it up and wanted to be like “Dude, can’t you just flush your pubes down the toilet?” But, I wanted to cut him some slack since even though he was acting as cool as a cumber, he had to have had some nerves, although he really doesn’t express his emotions very often.

He eventually cleaned up from the Pube Storm of 2017 but ick, ick, ick.

My husband had the procedure in the afternoon and was given a Valium which was fun to see because I don’t think he’s ever had one before.

When we got home, he was still good and drugged and laid in bed while he put his balls on ice and watched James Bond movies. He had to rest for two days which I know was hell for him because the man never stops moving. If he’s not out mowing the grass, he’s cutting something up with his chainsaw or kayaking or riding his bike.

It’s a pretty strange feeling knowing we won’t be having any more kids. I didn’t realize I would still be longing so much for another child.

It makes me wonder if that feeling ever goes away despite how old I get.

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I’m A Mess

This past year and a half has been very difficult for me. I had five surgeries within 14 months, starting in 2016. It’s why I haven’t really been blogging as often as I’d like. I won’t bore you with the details of the surgeries but they came in such rapid succession and that’s what has made me go from anxiety with occasional panic attacks to my current state which has transformed to severe anxiety with frequent panic attacks, including the dreaded anxiety attacks first thing in the morning.

I didn’t take as good of care of myself as I should have with each recovery from surgery and it’s definitely taken a toll on me. I feel so anxious all the time and my body still feels like it’s in recovery mode. It’s been frustrating for me because I’m still not 100% physically and the frustration leads to anxiety which leads me to have panic attacks.

If you’ve never had a panic attack, you’re very lucky. Mine starts out with feeling a sense of dread. My heart starts pounding. It’s difficult to catch my breath. My mind starts racing. I feel dizzy. My heart gets to where it feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. I feel like I’m going to give myself a heart attack. The sense of dread increases. My heart’s beating so fast, my mind is racing, I’m feeling dizzier, and there are times I even get so worked up that I throw up from the anxiety and panic. It feels like I’m a prisoner in my own body and want nothing more that to escape myself.

So, for the past 18 months, my anxiety has grown to where it can be debilitating at times. I’m getting more concerned now because this is the time of year that my depression starts rearing its ugly head.

Since I cut out all news out of my life last month, the anxiety has become a little more manageable. I’ve been trying to ride out the panic attacks without reaching for my xanax prescription but that can be really difficult. Hmmm, would I rather feel like I’m in a fight or flight state of panic for half the day or should I take something that I know in 20 or so minutes will have me feeling more in control of my thoughts? But, I don’t want to have to depend on medication every time.

The problem is, I still have an ongoing medical issue and while I’ve had two surgeries for it where I thought both times that I’ll finally be feeling healthy again and won’t have to deal with this problem anymore. Low and behold, once I’m confident it’s finally not an issue anymore. the fucking thing pops back up. I feel like there’s no end in sight and my ENT doctor has been calling this “unusual and rare”.

He seems to be at a total loss about what to do and mentioned sending me to Boston. For now though, he’s waiting to see if medication will help. I know it’s not going to because in the past it never did.

I’m just feeling so frustrated and at a loss.

What I’ve been missing is writing. I know that’s something that will help clear my head and help my anxiety while also giving me an escape from these ongoing medical issues.

I just don’t know if I can still keep up the blogging, not that I’ve really been keeping it up that often. But, I’ve been blogging for over seven years now and I’m not quite sure I can completely let it go. So, for now, I figure what the hell, even if I don’t have much to say, I should just write anyway. It’s such a nice vacation from my anxiety ridden mind and the physical pain I’m still in.

So, now you know what’s been going on since last year. It feels good to clear the air and talk about the terrible time I’ve been having.

I know I’ll get through this rough time but right now it feels like it’s going to last forever. I’ll leave you for now by saying thank you for listening to my issues.

I’ve got issues, you’ve got them too, so give yours to me and I’ll give mine to you.

Your welcome for getting that song stuck in your head.

Comments { 8 }

Fun With Words

After becoming a mom, I found that there’s a lot of multi-tasking and juggling to the point where your brain gets so overloaded with all of the things you need to do, places you have to go, and that damn Elsa crown you’re being begged to find in a sea of toys.

I’ll get to sorting all of this stuff out in my brain, then I’ll see something shiny and get distracted. After a few minutes, okay… longer, I often find myself thinking “Wait. What the fuck was I supposed to be doing??!” It won’t be until 10 minutes go by that the hummingbird yells “MOM? Did you find Elsa’s crown? MOM? I still haven’t gotten the glass of water you were getting me after lunch.”

Then I think “Oh, shit! Yeah. She asked me for a glass of water an hours ago. Ooops.”

Do I have a point to this? No. No, I don’t.

Anyway…

When you have a kid, your privacy and dignity go out the window. Forever gone. Thankfully, there are those times when your child gives you a good laugh and helps even things out. The hummingbird is now 6 and since Kindergarten, it’s amazing how she’s grown mentally and emotionally.

You think they grow fast when they’re babies but damn, when they start school, it’s at lightening speed. Which is great. Yep, it’s wonderful. Fabulous.

Excuse me while I go cry in the corner and bang my hands and feet on the floor, screaming “Why, sweet baby jeebus? WHY?!”

My baby girl is becoming a young lady. Fuuck.

The hummingbird may seem so grown up at times and her speech has greatly improved (while those aspects of myself seem to be deteriorating), she can still act like a silly, wild little hummingbird.

She always seems to ask why things are the way they are and may need help about what some words and sayings mean and that’s when the funny ensues.

Here are some examples of words and sayings she can mispronounce or might not be clear on.

Apple Dumplings = Apple Ducklings

Heartbeat = Heartbeep

Breakfast = Breksfust

And my favorite… chocolate = cocklate. Yes, cocklate (cock-let). It’s get me every time.

*At the check out in the store*

“Mom? Can I have some COCKLATE? Please?! That can be my only treat today. Pretty please? I’d really like some COCKLATE.

Inside, I’m laughing my ass off. When I can contain myself, I’ll say it back correctly. “Are you sure you want some chocolate for your treat?”

“Yes! Please? I really, really, really, really, really would like some COCKLATE.”

So, yeah. It’s funny and endearing to see that she is still little and won’t be learning to drive or moving into her own apartment next week, which is what it can feel like to me sometimes.

Recently, for an after school snack, she asked for a lightly toasted bagel with cream cheese.

But my 6 year-old asked for a “Politely toasted bagel with cream cheese.”

In the past several months, I would think she would soon grow out of her love of talking about poop, farts, and burps. Thankfully, I was wrong… for now.

Last night while cuddling, this went down and it’s actually a more frequent conversation that can last a few minutes.

Hummingbird: I farted while I was burping. Did you hear it?

Me: No.

Hummingbird: Do you smell it now?

Me: Nope.

Hummingbird: How about now? ……

It never crossed my mind that with all the things that motherhood entails, “fart smeller” would be one of them.

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Tattoos And Guilty Pleasures

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I got the little hummingbird’s cold that she had last week. So, of course I’ve been so sick this week and really NyQuiled up. Yes, that’s a word. Okay, it is in my mommyhood vocabulary.

My week has pretty much been like this. Cough, cough, cough. Tell my husband “Fuck this shit! Kill me now!” Cough, cough. Nap. Do a shot of NyQuil. Cough some more. Tell my husband I think I’m dying. Cough. More NyQuil. Etc. Yes, I’m such a pussy when I’m sick.

Since I ramble all of the time, I wanted to hear from you.

Who, me? Yes, you. Couldn’t be! Then who?

That’s a little something my 5 year-old came home singing one day so it’s been in my head.

Anyway…

First off… tattoos.

I’ve been seriously thinking about getting another tattoo. Ssshh, don’t tell my husband. He’s still having a heart attack over the tiny dolphin tattoo I got 12 years ago. Yes, I’m a dolphin/ocean freak.

Poor guy. You should have seen him in my pierce everything phase in my early 20’s.

I just can’t decide what to get.

Something to do with music, a hummingbird, my daughter’s name?

Secondly, when you have a bit of free time, what are your guilty pleasures?

No judgements!

For me, it’s watching Teen Mom 2 and loving to absolutely despise Kim Kardashian and her WTF moments, which seem plentiful and endless.

Your turn. Spill it!

Happy weekend, ladies and gents!

*Updated. Oh, yeah! Another guilty pleasure is reading dlisted. I came across this gossip site 6 years ago when I was pregnant with the hummingbird, dealing with hyperemesis gravidarum, and desperately needed laughs. Michael K. and his writing is brilliant.

Comments { 5 }