From my heart.

Everyone always talks about how STRONG I am when they hear my story, how brave I am, how exceptional I am. Whether I believe in all of that or not, I feel like that and all i am has been stripped away and I'm lying doubled-over, naked, exposed, raw. I feel as if a hole has been blown through me. There's just this emptiness.

I spent all day today crying and sleeping. Not very productive, but none of this weekend is supposed to be productive; I just lay here and wait for them to cut me open Monday and replace the replacement hip with another replacement hip filled with drugs to kill the bugs.

So now I'll have this surgery, and the next. And Christmas will be whatever it turns out to be. It may just gets pushed back to January, which seems to be absolutely fine with everyone, so I don't have to feel guilty about it and I get the gift of feeling that my family is really okay with relocating the whole holiday because they love me and they don't want me to miss it. Everything in my life will just change from here on out...

Life gets pushed back.

I was supposed to be living a normal life this Spring for the first time in years. IN YEARS. I was going to go for walks with LM to ride his bike, maybe even bike with him by the Summer. I was going to do housework and get my life organized. I was going to have great sex again instead of "No, I can't move like that," and "Ooh that hurts," sex. I was going to nurture my relationships with both of my men, as I haven't been able to do. I was going to put energy in friendships that have fallen to the wayside. I was going to stop being the person that takes and start being the person that gives. I was going to get off my ass and lose 60 pounds. I was going to show BF that I am capable of caring for another child so that we can have a baby before the time limit on our embryos is up in June of 2014.

I was supposed to be living; freely, healthily, happily living. And that's just been put on hold. I haven't lost it. This MRSA diagnosis is not a cancer diagnosis. This is not another debilitating disease that will take over my life and not let go. It's just a monster that has eaten a month of my life so far and will eat another six months from the next year. I just have to come to peace with it. Right now, though, I'm really very depressed. I'm angry. I'm despondent. I don't feel like I have the emotional resolve to get through this weekend, let alone the next hour or the work that's ahead, the physical pain that I will endure, the loneliness of hospital and rehab. It's just overwhelming to think about.

So I think I'm going to go zone out, try to find some television that is not about those poor children and teachers in Connecticut. My heart really goes out to that entire community, but especially to the parents who've lost their babies. It's such a crushing story and it just makes me want to curl LM up in my arms and hold him close where we can feel safe together. I want to tell him how much I love him, how much I miss him., but we can't have that tonight. I'm on contact precautions and he's at his mom's house anyway and I'm sure that she needs those hugs and cuddles just as much as I do.

I'll write again soon, but that's all I have in me right now. Thanks, as always for reading.