As I mentioned, once I was home I'd be on Lovenox injections for the clot and two weeks left of antibiotics(Vancomycin) to continue killing the infection. I decided that I would mostly stay in bed resting and regaining strength until the IV treatment was complete. Blessed with good home aide staff, I was well cared for and recovering nicely. Cards, calls and letters of encouragement were much appreciated. My best friend came over often(as she did before I actually was admitted)and just hung out in my room with me talkin' about girl stuff and watching TV.
November came, finally I was done with IV treatments and each day slowly got up out of bed. The first time I got in my wheelchair I felt dizzy, uneasy and almost off balance. With all the weight of the fluid and other waste off my abdomen and stomach, I lost 21lbs. I couldn't believe how easy movement was. I could bend, stretch, do better personal care and reach things I hadn't been able too in probably 2-3years(suspected amount of time fluid accumulated before getting real bad). All I can say is I felt like new again. I got excited over what...to others seemed like the most trivial things. I didn't care. I was just happy to be in better health and vowed have a better overall outlook on life focusing on the positive and not sweatin' the small stuff. Even though it was fall, the weather was beautiful. It felt wonderful to get out and actually see and feel the sun. I think there were even still some leaves on trees...could be wrong about that though. I enjoyed being able to sit outside or go for short visits with neighbors. Each day was better than the last.
Slowly my strength improved yet I felt the need for more help if I wanted to return to work after the New Year. I discussed the possibility of therapy with my Medicaid case manager and soon someone was coming to my place a couple times a week. She taught exercises of varying difficulty levels each visit. I did my best to remain disciplined and on track so it would be beneficial. Many times, it felt really good physically and sometimes I got carried away doing them. I had to remind myself to slow down and go easy. Finally I felt ready to get back on track with life.
After New Year 2012, I returned to work. Unfortunately, due to what I was told were budget issues, my hours would be reduced yet I would work more days. I wasn't totally thrilled but needed to work and knew that I would be able to perform my duties better than before, now that I was totally healthy so I went back. It was great to see co-workers, the families and individuals we served. I was back about two weeks before a problem occurred. I discussed with my supervisor my need to have a day off to go to one last, pre-scheduled appointment that related to the blood clot in my leg. Due to my reduced hours and different attendance expectations, she denied my request. In good faith, I tried to reschedule but was unable. I mentioned this with the assurance that my attendance wouldn't become an issue afterward...it didn't matter. I felt crushed and backed into a corner. I didn't know what to do. This was a place that had played an important role in my life by giving me the start that no one else would. I worked there 18yrs. It shaped who I became and I realized I let it define me. I went home angry, spending the weekend sadly, prayerfully deciding what my next step would be.
I thought back to a day during my recent stay at CCF in which I received a call from my supervisor scolding me for being a no call no show to my shift. Mind you, Everyone Else at work knew where I was, the state of my health and praying for me. I thought "how does she not know?" Made me feel as though I was only a position filler, not someone she had known for years and had any care or concern for. This wasn't the same organization or people I thought I knew. My decision was made. I needed to take care of me first so come Monday morning, I submitted my resignation. Unfortunately, due to the circumstances, I was leaving without having a new job secured. The appointment in question happened during my final two weeks. The day after, I saw an e-mail asking coworkers to help fill in my shift, making it appear I carelessly called off last minute.
My last day came and went. At first, I enjoyed my time. I felt as if a large weight had been lifted. Attempting to see this as a new start, I began thinking about what career choices I might like to investigate. I considered how I always love watching anything that has to do with weddings like Say Yes To The Dress or My Fair Wedding with David Tutterra. I researched what I'd need to do to begin. I looked into a school where I could take correspondence type courses and earn a diploma in two years. I signed up and received my first packet. I also began looking for new employment. I went everywhere I could think of: retail stores, restaurants, hotel/motels, staffing agencies. Lots of places looked at my resume puzzled by my history. "Why leave your last job after 18yrs.?" I didn't want to lie, yet I didn't know how to phrase my answer. This started to do a job on my self esteem and play with my mind. However, I did what I could to maintain an upbeat, positive attitude believing the right job was out there for me.
I had happy times. My sister and I got reacquainted after a rough patch. My best friend Erin finally told me she and her husband were expecting their first child. She had known since Sept., right around the time I really began to get sick. I was So Excited for her and started thinking about what I could do to plan something special for her to celebrate. It seemed like the least I could do after all she had done for me in the last few years. In the spring, I helped plan and pull off an nice baby shower at church for her. We had a nice turn out with good food, fun and lots of great gifts for mom and baby.
I was still job hunting. I looked online, had feelers out to friends and family who would pass along adds that I would look over and respond to if I felt I had the qualifications. Many rejections came. I started to feel sad, yet would talk myself out of it attempting to keep positive, reminding myself of much worse circumstances I had just survived. One beautiful spring day, I went to our local Outlet Mall stopping in most, if not all the stores asking for applications. I spent a good 6-8hrs. there and came home with about 60 applications and a few links to online apps. I went home, rolled up my sleeves and began filling them all out. I returned them and waited. I was exhausted so I took a few days off from my search. I hoped and prayed all that time spent wouldn't be in vain. I Finally Got A Call From One Of The Stores! They wanted an interview the next week. It seemed to go well. I waited and waited only to learn they wouldn't be doing second interviews due to reduced hours. I was disappointed yet took it as experience with interviewing. A couple other stores called for interviews but the results were basically the same either not enough hours or I didn't even qualify to work in retail. Around this time, neighbors who I had become friends with moved and we lost touch. My Celebrate Recovery group was canceled and job rejections were becoming the norm.
Summer started and I was still searching. I became concerned about multiple UTI's I'd been having. What was causing them? How do I stop them? I discussed my symptoms and concerns with my Primary Dr. He referred me to a Uro-gynecologist. He did different testing which resulted in him saying I'm overall healthy but maybe needed a new prophylactic med. to keep the problem away.
Summer was turning to fall and I was still job hunting. By this time, I was growing ever deeper in debt and not going anywhere fast. I was also losing interest in life and finding more reasons to just stay in bed. "No one needs me(my help)" "No one's looking for me" "There's no job to go to" I'd say. One day, I was working on the checkbook. I couldn't get it too balance which wasn't normal, I could usually figure it out. I Snapped! At that moment, everything hit me all at once. The unresolved feelings from my illness, job loss and other issues. I felt I couldn't handle it anymore. I called my Celebrate Recovery sponsor crying. She listened patiently and lovingly, however she was at a loss. She recommended I talk with my Dr. to see what he would suggest. I met with him and he prescribed an antidepressant and counseling. Both of which I began immediately. Things slowly began to improve, not my circumstances but my outlook. I took things day to day again, sometimes minute by minute.
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