hannie’s spot. all hannie.

I’ve been incredibly busy and I apologize for not writing more here. I’ll give you a really brief idea of where I am in my wls journey right now, and then address something that pretty much any wls patient can attest to.

So right now, I’m a few months past the “surgery that either makes you live or kills you” point. I had a CT scan done because literally, that mesh that holds me together was painful and a half, and you can see where wow, we’re praying that the mesh even holds. My surgeon literally told me “What the hell have you done to my work?” I look like I’m maybe slightly pregnant, but I’m not. The mesh is stretching hardcore, and I just pray that it stays there and I do everything I can to ensure it stays there. Don’t ask me to lift really heavy stuff and we’re good.

However, in that same CT scan that showed that yes, mesh still there and doing its job, they found a nice huge cyst on my right ovary. I have this new phrase I’m going with and it’s “No inpatient time in 2009″ and oh no, I might have to go back on that. I’m pretty sick of major hospital time, people in white coats whether it be dentist or doctor offices put all sorts of panic into me, and I simply do not have TIME to be lying in a hospital bed. I’d like to spend that time to me, more productively, living life. I’d like to live life to the point that I told my surgeon before that CT, “If we find something negative out as far as the mesh goes, no more surgery. We just go with comfort measures, and I walk and we both know that we did the best we could. I can’t put you into a situation where you have to fight for me and in turn, friends and family have to fight for me as well. We did what we could, and know that I love you more than words could ever say for just believing in me, having faith in me and doing everything within your power to ensure I stay alive.” I think I saw tears in his eyes, but then again, both of us were working on about 4 hours sleep total between the two of us, so who knows.

So this cyst thing really got to me because you know, again, no inpatient time in 2009. To get to that cyst, to remove it…would mean that the mesh that is literally saving me would have to be cut into, and once its cut, it basically makes that mesh less effective in holding all the other stuff in. Imagine it like popping a balloon. Good enough description there, I think. This mesh is a bit thicker than the structure of a balloon, but the thing is, once you pop that balloon, or cut through that mesh, yea. I think you understand.

I go to my trusty ob-gyn and he reads the CT report, and decides that I need a test for cancer and then an ultrasound because he can see what’s going on better with that. Great, yet another ultrasound where you drink tons of water, and you get that heavy push against your bladder to the point where you’re just about ready to let it flow all over the table. I can do this though, piece of cake, and you learn after wls of any kind that no matter how tough that medical test may be, you do it because you need to know you’re okay and things are working right. You learn quick on that medical tests are for YOUR benefit, you’re entirely worth it, and you do it “by any means necessary”.

No callback on that cancer test, so we’re out of the woods on that for now. The ultrasound is on March 3, meetup with trusty ob-gyn is on March 5, so we’re all on that “wait and see” trail that we’ve been on a million times over. My outlook, the same as friends and family, the same as any of my medical staff that is part of my world..is that things will work out well, and my life will be just fine. We all keep that outlook because our glasses are always half full, not half empty, and if it starts running half empty, one of us here has a pitcher of water to correct that right away. Life itself is an incredible treasure to have, and without that, you tend to forget just how blessed you truly are just to breathe air and even so far as to wake up every morning.

Word count is 784 about here, so let’s get to something interesting, shall we? Here is something from a blog entry from one of my friends, and well, let’s talk about this.

1. Make the first move – There is no word or phrase in the English language that strikes more fear in the hearts of even the most courageous man than “no” (“erectile dysfunction” follows a close second). If you ask out a beautiful woman, and the worst she can say is no, is that really so bad? Isn’t it better to have tried and failed than never to have tried at all? Make a move. Be daring. Women love a man with confidence. Strike up a conversation with the gorgeous girl buying your favorite breakfast cereal at the supermarket. Ask the new girl at work to lunch the next time you bump into her at the copier. If you are at a bar for the big game and there is an incredible fox cheering for your team, go up and ask her if she would like to “sack you.” Just make certain that tree-trunk of a guy sitting next to her isn’t her husband. In those instances, your first move will be out the door in a dead sprint for your car.

I guess I can strongly identify with this from the female perspective and from well, the dating sort of perspective too. I am a complicated person, medically, physically and mentally too. Hands down, I will tell you that I am the most difficult person to live with and anyone who has had the pleasure of living with me can tell you, yes, entirely true. All of those people, including the husband whom I really detest and would much rather never have anything to do with again, deserve a purple heart of hannie for having to deal with me.

We’ll visit that fun husband thing for just a second. I can’t remember the last time I talked to him, I can barely even remember what he even looks like, and each discussion I *do* have with him he spouts so many lies and then finishes with “you know, you should just sign those divorce papers and send them back because *I* want to go on with my life.” Truth of the matter is, he’s been going on with *his* life for years and years, even when I was in his presence and living with him. A legal document just says yea, legally, do what the hell you want *legally*. But here’s my question. Do you sign the papers, full well knowing that it comes down to a “payoff to shut up and say nothing and you and the child are both written off and not represented like you should be legally and to the full extent of divorce law” or do you fight back and say “hey, these papers are so NOT legal and we both know it, so stop acting surprised when I balk about signing them you dumbass”? Personally, I’d like to take out the “gag order”, the “he can sure well file more paperwork against me for the rest of my life” and the “cut child and me out of military entitlement that we earned and are deserving of” out, sign them, and send them back. Goodbye former happiness turned into sour grapes. I never say goodbye to anyone unless I know that I honestly don’t want to see them ever again. However, knowing that he’s on that “why doesn’t that bitch just DIE?” kick, I can say goodbye without a second thought. Drop the boom, exit stage left for you, and please vacate my world right the hell now.

When you have that sort of relationship go that sour, and it’s around fifteen years of your life, your heart and everything else invested into it, at first you are sad. You mourn it, you do what you can to get it back the way it was those first couple years, and then you find out you just can’t recapture that no matter how hard you try. Then the anger sets in, and it’s like, you know, I held up MY end of the vows, I fought for you when even YOUR OWN FAMILY despised you, and you’re handing me this? How dare you? At this point, you question your own self esteem, what you’re about and what makes you tick and you even question if you’re even worthy of love or being loved. For me, I questioned if I could ever be with anyone ever again because with my laundry list of medical issues someone dropped ball, lied to me about everything under the sun, and outright refused to be there for me and even our own child because well, I couldn’t tell you. I don’t care if he’s there for me or not anymore. I stopped caring long ago. But when I’m clinging to life on a ventilator, and our child is there from dawn till dusk holding my hand and talking to me, lifeless, telling me that I just have to come back because she needs me, and her own father can’t even call or make any attempt to pinch hit on my behalf, well, fuck that. Truly, if there’s anything in this world I despise him for, it’s that right there. Do anything you want to me, I don’t care. But if you do it to either of my children, oh hell no, we’re going to have thermo-nuclear war going on. Wait, this goes even for my crayola crew, my group of 14 year old girls who are dear friends of my daughter’s. This goes even for my step-daughter, who surely was given the short end of the straw and is still kicking ass and not letting this cloud her vision.

It’s hard to move on and even contemplate having someone else enter your world on a “more than platonic” level and sometimes even platonic, because you’re complicated. Going out and meeting people has been difficult for me because well, I don’t always do well in social situations. This is not because of my personality, but more because of those medical conditions. When I enter any establishment, I immediately scope out the bathroom. I may need it every two minutes, so I need to know where it is. If I’m in any sort of eating or drinking establishment, I have to scope out their menu to make sure it’s wls friendly and then make decision from there. Then, once said person sees what I’m eating and how much I’ve left on the plate, they ask questions and I have to run through the explanation. If they don’t have that “I’m bolting for the door right NOW you circus freak” after that, they’ve passed litmus test one. I have a whole series of litmus tests I put people through to see if they’re good on being in my world. I’m sure others do too, but mine are pretty stringent. They have to be, because I have too much to do in this lifetime and either you’re on the party train with me or you’re not. If you’re not, then move along and don’t interrupt me.

Sure, I like a guy with confidence and such, but it’s not always an easy thing to pull from anyone. There’s different reasons for this, but it’s entirely true. Sometimes, you have to wait for it to show up, because they’ve got their own series of litmus tests for you, and you have to pass theirs. Cereal? Can’t eat it. Wish I could, because there’s some I truly miss but even the non-sugar versions make me violently ill. Eight years and counting, and even two bites of cereal will make me drop. You won’t catch me on a cereal aisle unless I’m buying more grits. That’s the southern way in me that I love and adore. Of course, no, I’m not under “girl raised in the south”, but I’ve lived there long enough to know what’s good and I can eat there. You call me “girl from Washington state” and no, that’s not “yankee bitch” because um, Washington became a state in 1889. You want me to respect and honor the Alamo? Fine, you turn around and re-read that history book and know that someone from Washington state would not be considered “yankee” anything. You got me on that? Good.

I’m not at a bar, because they’re loud, they’re full of stupid drunk people and those are two things that I detest big time. Okay, so I have a friend that we meet when we can at a bar in a mexican restaurant. However, we sit away from the drunk people, we nerd it up while drinking diet coke and I nibble from his plate of nachos, and we laugh like all get out at the stupid drunk people. See how well he can fit into my world? He doesn’t question the fact that I’m eating little and I’d rather talk about nerd stuff instead of sports or which celebrity is doing what this week. It’s more about, yes, I am on that same level as you, we’re dear friends and we can talk to the same things, and yea, if I have to run to the bathroom every two seconds for whatever reason, I know he’ll still be seated at that booth waiting for me. He always is.

But he’s a platonic friend, and sure, he could pass muster for “president of the hannie fanclub” but for reasons that exist, he just gets the “member” status and he’s fine with that as am I. That “presidential position” will come to me someday and will be such an incredible fit that I won’t have to second guess or worry or sob endless tears about them shattering my heart. Simply put, they wouldn’t dare do that to me, because they’re mirroring exactly what I am and honor and respect that just as much as I would them.

So where have I been “more than platonic relationship” wise? I’ll call it the trial and error phase, in which either you discover that this person is unavailable for any sort of bonding commitment, or, as one of my best friends says, “You know Johanna, I love you more than life itself and we have dated, but oh hell no I couldn’t do that again or even live with you. You drive me batty insane and aren’t women supposed to be more prim and proper and NOT as obnoxious as you?” We laugh hysterically over this.

I just live life and that’s how it goes. I don’t actively search for anyone because I have an insane fear of rejection and I don’t want that negativity around me to haunt me. Should we meet and things go well, great. If you fail a litmus test of mine, I have to let you go, because I know that you could not stay on my team. If you pass them all, then you are placed in that inner circle and you stay as long as you can. If you’re willing to stay for a lifetime, great. If you can only stay for a season or even a couple months, well, I understand and I’m sure I’ll learn something from you in that time span and thank you for being there for the time you spent with me.

Back to that lifetime thing…if you’re willing to be patient with me and allow me to speak whatever is on my mind without giving me that look of “circus nutjob” and accept me unconditionally as I would you no matter what little personality quirks I have (believe me, I have a LONG list of those as well), then you’re gold and I treasure you like no other. That person can and will come into my world, that they will. I even have dolphins attesting to this.

Enough of MEN making the first move and men having to do all the work. Tell you what, I’ll make that first move after I’ve scoped them out and I’ll see if that man bites. If they bite and things fall smoothly along that road, awesome, and I can’t wait to see what happens next. If they don’t, well, laugh and giggle about it and move along. Again, I don’t have time in this lifetime to sit around and wait or waste time on someone who doesn’t even fall into “member” status of the hannie fanclub.

In this lifetime, you learn in relationships what works for you and what doesn’t. There is a common term in Buddhism called “esho funi” which, loosely translated means, “your life condition reflects your environment, your environment reflects your life condition”. If you set that life condition low, you’re going to get low in your world. Bump it up a bit higher, and that environment is going to be brighter. Same goes for your environment. Stay in a low one, and all you’re going to attract is low. Kick up that environment a few notches and again I will attest here, sunshine and rainbows and beautiful people come to you. Sure, you’ll stumble here and there, but your best friends always either catch you or smack you and say “Get the heck back up because we love you” and you dust off and get up.

Am I the “Anthony Robbins” of the wls world? Not a chance. Just the other day one of my teeth chipped to the point where I looked like “dyn-O-MITE!” and they have a tendancy to do that because I’m highly malabsorbing stuff and things aren’t as strong as they used to be. Yesterday I was at Fred Meyer visiting the bathroom every few minutes and trying to not cry over the abdominal pain. No one is perfect and we all have our daily challenges just to get through each day. What I believe and what I know in this lifetime, I’ve been either taught by influential people who could really speak to me or I’ve learned myself as I’ve traveled within my 39 years of life here. No amount of money could EVER EVER match that. It’s all about being grateful for every moment you have and sometimes, when you start slipping from that thought, there’s things or people right around you to remind you.

Last but not least, you know, I believe my philosophy on “making that move” works. I wrote someone, originally asking them to do something that would benefit my crayola crew immensely because I knew that he could bring the same message that I could to them and he could be “another voice” that wasn’t me doing it. I knew that the crayola crew would be held captive by everything he had to say just as they do me and he could keep their interest rolling. Sure, he was absolutely adorable in looks and he sure got my hopes up as far as potential “more than platonic” but again, I’m not looking. I’m asking a favor out of same set of ideals and that’s it, purely.

Long story short, we did that “litmus test” thing to one another..that we did. He passed mine flawlessly and I’m pretty certain I passed his. The rest is unwritten because we’re both making it up as we go along and I’ll tell you this..what an incredible ride and oh how I am blessed to have him in my inner circle. See what I mean? I think you do.

quick add for those of you who doubt: Although I am the president of the Josh Brown fanclub, it’s purely a platonic thing. It’s been that way since the day I met him and we laughed about my choice of clothing for canvassing action. We laugh even after that event, because I learned many powerful lessons that day. Is he in “inner circle” land? You bet. But “platonic” he is and platonic he will always be. Proud of him and his accomplishments? It goes both ways. We’re proud of one another and we can laugh and smile and say “Three cheers for the Kitsap people!” As for aforementioned male who I’m writing history with right now, this isn’t for his sake, because he already knows this. This statement is purely for the doubters of either mine or Josh’s integrity, spirit and fortitude. Let’s hear it ONE MORE TIME for Josh and let’s hear it for those who grew up in Kitsap and can and WILL make a difference here in our home!