Finally, an update

I’ll make this fast and to the point. Well, at least as much as I am capable of that, since that’s not really my strong point. I’ll try to stick to just the bare facts …

So, I finally left the boyfriend around the end of September/beginning of October. There was a big ol’ fight and he was threatening to kill himself and I didn’t know how seriously to take it, so I called the cops because he was so out of control. (He didn’t remember anything he said or did the next day, so I rest my case.) Long story – I wrote something about it on paper. I might find it and post it here some time.

And yes, there wasn’t anywhere to go except to my parents. Which is where I am now. It’s been pretty ugly. I’ll get into that sometime too. I know that many people would feel like this is a change to start over or something. Those people do not know my mother. I love her, but I cannot be the one she takes all of her frustrations out on. I don’t have much self-esteem as it is; she just can’t keep chipping away at it. I know she thinks I am irresponsible, immature and stupid. Fine, whatever. Just don’t yell at me about it. And maybe give me a chance every now and then. Possibly, even listen to what I say when I try to explain instead of jumping right in with the insults.

Whatever.

I’d been staying at my parents’ for a few weeks when a very large tree in the backyard fell onto the house. A huge tree, let’s say. It happened about 8 a.m. one Sunday morning, when there was no wind or rain. Shook the entire house. I thought it was an earthquake. The house is still safe to inhabit, but there were several broken rafters and the deck was destroyed. Several holes in the roof, which is some kind of plastic that looks like tin. A chimney from an old wood-burning stove stopped the tree from falling any further. All the materials to get stuff fixed are on site, but we’re waiting for the construction guys to get to us and for the rain to stop.

I finally got through the first step in seeing a new therapist, since my health insurance won’t let me see the old one. (So I haven’t talked to anyone in that way since June.) There’s only one “practice” I’m allowed to go to, and it’s a huge mega-group that includes the county’s mental health services. There’s a tremendous barrier to entry for this group - Before you can even make an appointment, you must attend an orientation that takes place at 8 a.m. When I called to register for a session in July, the first available one was last week. Of course, I now live about 90 minutes away from the office – 90 minutes in light traffic, that is. So to get there at 8 a.m. I had to leave here around 6, which sucked. Sat there for a whopping 15 minutes, and it was over. Couldn’t get an appointment with a doctor until tomorrow, then who knows how long it will take to get set up with a therapist.  I hope I can make it.

Which brings up a question I want to give some consideration to here at some point: What constitutes a “mental breakdown” and what does one look like? Not today, though.

I’m thinking about going back to school soon. The original thought was to become a physical therapy assistant, which is a two-year program at a local community college. They boast of 100% employment for their graduates, and it does seem to be a growing field. Application process is rather intensive, though. It’s all due in mid January, and I’ve still got quite a few pieces of it to go, like an aptitude test, an interview with a working PT or PTA, and getting my transcript officially evaluated. Oh, and a reading test, and I’ll eventually have to test out of the mandated computer class. (Which, frankly, I could teach. They could also require me to take a public speaking class, since I don’t officially have one on my transcript, but which is another class I could potentially teach. In fact, if I go into this program I’m hoping to teach, as in addition to the pay you get a free parking pass, which is $200 a semester.)

Anyway, I’ve already done an 8-hour observation in a nursing home/rehab facility where a friend works. When doing so, I realized I probably hadn’t given enough consideration to PT versus OT (occupational therapy, which focuses primarily on the arms and hands). After some research into characteristics and personality traits that are best suited to each discipline, I decided that I really am more suited to OT. Personal relationships with the patients tend to be a bigger part of OT for one thing.

There is an OT program in the area, but it’s not at a community college. It’s a rather pricey private school. Instead of an associate’s degree, this program awards a master’s degree, and instead of a PTA, I would be a full-fledged OT. There is a considerable difference in cost, but there is also a considerable difference in pay. That program is a little more involved, as you would guess. It’s two years plus two summer semesters, and there are 24 credit hours worth of classes that must be taken in the last five years to gain admission. Since I took my college classes 15-20 years ago, there will also be a year of classes at a community college before I can even apply. I don’t much like the idea of taking on student debt at 45, which will be my age at graduation, but I figure I won’t be able to retire until I’m at least 75 anyway, so that’s 30 years worth of work I’m preparing myself for. (Yes, this is one of those ideas my mother declares is stupid and irresponsible.) I need to set up an appointment to go talk with the financial aid and OT departments to get their take on things. I paid for undergrad and grad school with scholarships, so I don’t even know how financial aid works. I’m also not sure how I’ll support myself once unemployment runs out in August, since the program won’t start until the following June. Retail job? Will I continue to live with my parents while I get the 24 credit hours in, or try to find an apartment locally? (If I do, I could have an indoor pet.) These are all things I want to run by a therapist too. I’m going to need a full day just to get a therapist up to speed, much less to talk about planning the future, which is what I really need help with.

So all that was enough to be dealing with, but then last week happened.

Thursday, I had to go have a sonogram as a follow-up to my first mammogram. There is a small lump in my right breast, almost under the nipple. The doctor who read the sonogram sounded completely sure it’s benign, and he told me the type of lump it was but I didn’t write it down and it was a long word. Ladies, a warning – at least in this case, this lump doesn’t feel like I thought a lump would feel. It feels more like a pocket of fluid, actually. I’m honestly not worried about the lump itself, but now lucky me gets to have a needle biopsy next Monday, and I’m horrifically worried about that. Well, not worried. Apprehensive, I guess. Filled with dread of the ouchie. I had intended to keep all this from my mother so she wouldn’t worry needlessly, but I wound up blabbing it to her; concealing it was another “stupid, irresponsible” thing, apparently.

Then on Friday morning, my stepdad had a heart attack. Not completely out of the blue, because several years ago he had a cath scan done that revealed two partially blocked arteries. In fact, he already had a cardiologist appointment sometime next week. Anway, one of those two arteries had closed off; the other is now 80% occluded. He was at the hospital in the cath lab having stents put in within 90 minutes of first feeling pain, so that’s good. The real problem looks to be the other blockage. Every doctor who has weighed in so far has been more concerned about than the attack that already happened. It’s in a bad spot, where other arteries branch off. It probably cannot be solved with stents because of that, so we’re bracing for open heart surgery right around Christmas. He’ll have an IV for five days prior to the surgery, although he can probably be at home during the wait, to flush out the Plavix so his blood will clot. Then the surgery is usually followed by a 10-day hospital stay and cardiac rehab.

Here’s another warning: Heart attacks can be viciously sudden. My stepdad was actually driving home from the doctor’s office, where he had a routine physical with good BP and pulse rate, when he started having pains. (He was about halfway home, so he came on here and called EMS.) The point is that not half an hour before the attack, his vitals all looked great.

I have a very strange (strained?) relationship with my stepdad. Since my father has been gone since I was 8, I never really knew how to interact with a father-figure. And my stepdad isn’t very demonstrative either. He’s scared right now, and I have no idea what to say or do. He’s been in the hospital since Friday and although I was there all day Friday, I didn’t go Saturday or today. I was there for an hour or so yesterday. I hope it doesn’t look uncaring. There’s nothing I can do there, really. Friday I sat in a waiting room all day, because he was in ICU. Plus, his daughter’s husband’s father – in other words, my stepsister’s father-in-law – died about a month ago from his fourth or fifth heart attack, in the same hospital, so she’s really freaked out, quite understandably. She’s been there quite a lot. My mom is there constantly, so it’s not like I’m needed to sit with him. In fact, he’s doing well and doesn’t really need anyone to sit with him at all, because he’s perfectly capable of getting what he needs from the hospital staff.

I had made somewhat tentative plans to return to the city I was in before, but they more or less fell apart last week – I was going to rent a place from a friend, but he doesn’t think he’s going to be able to bring the mortgage on the place current so it probably won’t happen. Which is probably for the best, since my mom still works so I may get to be a full-time nurse for a while. Maybe I should just become a CNA while I’m at it; I think it would help with my OT school admission. At least if I know I’m staying here I can do stuff like joining the YMCA and looking for bellydance classes and other things I was reluctant to do before. I guess I might as well go ahead and switch my car registration and pharmacy and primary care physician and all that too. I was so afraid this would happen if I came here, although it’s very possible I would have come here while my stepdad recovers anyway.

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