my fiance knows how to irk me and push my buttons but I still love him ❤
There’s been a mutual decision between David Piazza and I after all of us discussing things over with Mom, to push the wedding back another year. So it’ll be may 2021.. we haven’t gotten much done as far as planning and in Catholics churches, need to let church priests know 6 months ahead of event.. That’d be next month, plus we’ll be moving into my parents’ house the beginning of 2020. Plus this way, I’ll be over a year post-op and better able to plan and enjoy it. Sorry for any disappointments but tis life ❤️❤️❤️🤷 we feel this will be better in long run.
My Mom used to say, that as a child, I had “a smile that was infectious and could brighten others days,” and I was an inspiration with how I handled my disability with a smile. However, over the years, between trying my best to fit in with society’s ideals/standards, trying to live up to what I was taught by my parents or CCD Religion classes, relationships with people I thought of as friends who turned out to be toxic (only to discover my true friends), relationships romantically, stress from struggles as a college student, and the struggles of living on and off with pain or other medical problems, I seem to have lost a sense of myself.
It’s like a constant battle between my heart, my brain, and the outside forces of voices from people around me. I am 28 and enjoy childish things like dolls, stuffed animals, playing games at the local fairs, I enjoy cartoons and childish movies, tea parties, parties, I get separation anxiety and sad when my friends have to leave; it is like I am still a child trapped in the biological fact that I am 28 and some people point it out and judge me and tell me, “You are 28, act your age.” But my question is, “Is it they are just jealous that I am trying to find joy in the things I have always enjoyed?” I am just trying to block out the darkness and cruelty of the world going on around me. It may make me ignorant, but I refuse to watch the news because it’s depressing and angers me, I rather “stick my head in the sand,” and tune it out, and leave it to God. When the world is so sad and depressing, who wouldn’t want to go back to the simpler times of innocence of childhood?
Don’t get me wrong, I still know some things I enjoy: Spending time with friends/family, parties, dancing, theater, crafts, creative writing, etc.; however, lately, I been really tired a lot and seem to stay in front of screen watching movies/tv or YouTube videos. It’s like I have no motivation or anything right now. I have wanted to do more blogging, more YouTube, more artistic and creative, but I just can’t get myself to actually do it, or how to put words out there.
Hopefully, I can rediscover myself again.
People often say “The world is a rainbow of different communities spreading love and good, frolocking with others. There are the ones who are the pessimistis who see their world as a never ending burden of turmoil and misery, and then the type that are the “fakers”- The ones who walk around all jolly and happy and wearing a complete “mask” in public. That is me.
I guess you are probably wondering “what is this going on about? The title says ‘One Mountain conquered, but life dealt me another summit to excavate.” What I mean by this is, I had my surgery to fix the broken rods and it was a major success, however during that surgery another issue was discovered; an infection in my rods.
Below are my newest X-rays.
To combat this infection issue, a pic-line was placed in my left arm while I was at Barnes Jewish Hospital in St Louis, Missouri, and put on antibiotics via IV infusions for 6 weeks and then will be switched to an antibiotic pill indefinitely until the doctor sees fit to get me off said antibiotics.
A week after my surgery, on Aug. 21, I was discharged from the hospital to go back to my home in Louisiana so that Medicaid would cover my IV antibiotics; if not, We would’ve had to pay out of pocket for the treatments and it was $120 a treatment (6 weeks of treatments, 2 x a day- so $120 a treatment x2 times a day x7 days x 6 weeks = $10080, and then if we stayed in s Louis but not at the hospital (haven house)= $50 a night x 6 weeks at least = $2100..yeah, I think we made the better decision by coming home…LOL)
Now 2 weeks and 4 days post-op, I awoke to my IV tape rolled up, the pic line area exposed (I am thinking that I was scratching in my sleep). When my fiance went to clean it up and re-tape it, he noticed that the pic line was out more than the doctors like, so we rushed to our local E.R., Lady of Lourdes Hospital. Once there, they were swift about getting me to the back; a nurse, however, decided to remove my pic line from my left arm (which was covered in red splotches due to allergic reaction to the tape) instead of leaving it for the specialist to push it back in. Hours later, the specialist showed up and had to re- stick me for a new pic line in my right arm now, when she said that had the nurse previously not removed it, they could’ve just pushed my other one back in. Now I am back home and my right arm is sore and throbbing because the lidocaine sedative is wearing off and my muscles are aching.
Oh well, I did what I needed to do and I will “grin and bear” this burden I have to deal with for 6 weeks until I can switch to my pill version of antibiotics. I cannot wait for this darn pic line to be out of my arm, but all good things come to those who wait. I will pray for God to grant me patience to deal with it.
I had my go fund me page since Jan or Feb. people have been generous and I thank them (especially the author of “Wonder” who generously donated $1000.) However, I share it constantly on all my social media platforms and a few people share it, but today made me so sick to my stomach.
I shared it a group on for people with similar disabilities and one of the members felt it was her responsibility to “set me straight.” – Evidence down below: Sally Hockman is a snooty and rude individual. She doesn’t know my story. She doesn’t know what I deal with on a daily basis. “Many people have broken beg for money,” but do these people happen to have great health insurance or doctors who take no matter the state? ….some people aren’t lucky!
Today was not great of a day except for one little event during the middle of the day. I had gotten a ticket from Build-a-bear for the “Pay your age,” event and was able to take my “future nieces” (older one being 9 years old and the baby, 9 months.) However, earlier that day was not great.
It started by my 9-year-old “future niece,” going to get the mail at my apartment mailbox; I got a letter from St Louis billing department saying that I was “denied,” hardship assistance and didn’t meet the national poverty requirement (how is not having health insurance besides Louisiana Medicaid, and only living on SSI and food stamps, not poverty?) – side note: called and talked to someone and got it straightened out, after I had already had my anxiety panic attack because “I need this surgery but I don’t wanna go into debt and cause my family and friends to go into debt for it.” However, I had to put that anxiety attack away to go enjoy the build-a-bear event with my fiance’, his sister, her husband, and the two children.
The older sister got a “Siamese looking” cat that she named Melody and their mom picked out an adorable bear and put in a “giggle sound,” that made my 9-month-old “future niece,” smile at; we named the bear Giggles. We probably spent more than we wanted to- because if we’d done just the stuffies with no sounds or accessories, it’d have only been $10, but we got each a sound (Melody had a cat sound and the Giggles had the giggle sound effect) so add in $9 more dollars, and then each got one accessory- the cat got a purse, and I don’t remember what the baby got for hers.) The total was $31 something, so $31-$19= the two accessories costing $12 together so about $5 or $6 each. We covered about $10-15 each. It was worth it. I got to forget my anxiety and play with my “future nieces” especially the cute baby. LOL. I love them both, but adorable babies (when not crying and screaming) seem to make the world go right and make you forget your stress, whereas an older child who may not be able to entertain herself that well, may stress you more.)
After Build-a-bear, we went to eat at Cici’s pizza buffet. It was okay. I watched them feed the baby pieces of brownie and how she made that adorable smile at the taste of the chocolatey goodness, and my 9-year-old “future niece,” wanted me to sit by her. She tells me all the time she loves me, she constantly hugs me and wants my attention. She doesn’t seek that from her uncle; she’s even gone as far as to tell the family, “If DJ and Jamie break up, can we keep Jamie instead?” to which the family always corrects her, “aunty Jamie,” and I’m just thinking “don’t force her to call me something if it doesn’t feel natural to her. she doesn’t call DJ, “Uncle DJ,” LOL.
After Cici’s pizza buffet, we departed ways; they were going see a Movie at the theater where my fiance’ brother in law worked at; I think it was only so the 9-year-old wouldn’t beg to stay longer with me and her uncle at the apartment complex, because at the Build-a-bear thing, when we were leaving, she kept saying, “I wish I didn’t have to go home. I wanna stay longer with yall.” Which broke my heart having to be stern and tell her “no,” because she needed to get back and do her Homeschool SchoolWork and plus I didn’t feel that I could entertain her properly: I was still stressing about that letter, in the back of my mind. I told her, we’d try to get her again before I have my surgery in August.
When I got home, I finally had gotten in touch with someone in billing to discuss the letter about being “denied,” financial assistance. They explained that despite it being out of state Medicaid, they were still going to try to file with them, so currently, my balance showed $0.00. The department explained that if Medicaid denies the claim and if I get another bill, just to call them back and explain how I got another bill, and to reprocess my application for financial assistance. So all that anxiety and worry and my panic attack, were basically for nothing because I am not completely “denied,” just denied if Medicaid accepts the claim. I hate how they word the letters, it makes worry creep in. Mom said it was a lesson I need to learn because if I want a family, I can’t be freaking out like that all the time. She also explained how I am not alone in this “battle,” for my obstacles and stuff with my disabilities, I have family, friends, David, his family, etc. But overall that it is the devil playing with me and doesn’t want me to trust in God my father and savior. I need to tell him, “be gone, Satan. My God, my father, loves me and I am wonderfully made for a purpose. He has led me this far for a reason.”
I will try to do better to trust in my God and savior, my loving father, my almighty creator. Amen.
Also when I got home, it started raining so of course, my back started hurting, so I took a 3-hour nap on Pain meds. After waking up, my stomach decided to reject the pizza (I am guessing it was the pizza: my abdomen was swollen, I was bloated and cramping so bad that it sent pain into my sides, my sides of my abdomen were sensitive to touch, and the really bad cramps left me short of breath. It is slowly getting relief after Tums and Pepto Bismol and just time.
Sometimes I wish my life was easy, but God never promised an easy life- Thank you, Adam and Eve, for original sin messing everything up; if they wouldn’t have given in to the serpent’s temptations, we’d all be happy and carefree, running around butt- naked in the Garden of Eden and not knowing any pain or difference. No bullying, no stress, no strife. *Sigh* Paradise lost. However, we are not alone, Jesus, God’s only son, had to die on the cross for crimes he didn’t commit. He suffered, why should we be any better than him and not have to suffer? the answer is, we shouldn’t. Anyway, I am rambling now. Goodnight, God Bless, and try to find the silver lining 🙂
As you all are aware by now, yesterday I went to Vidalia for a pain management appointment and found out that I have Osteoporosis forming. Today, I called my Surgeon in St Louis, Missouri, to find out if it would affect my surgery.
Missouri office: Can they fax it to the results to us?
Me: I’ll call and ask.
Vidalia office: we need a release, however, we can send the results to your referring doctor.
Referring Dr office: Oh, we can’t fax other doctors’ records.
*Facepalms* This is why the medical field and disabilities suck. Can’t get help, what so ever. You are a freaking Dr. Office, do your job!
I called the St Louis office back and explained the situation and they are going to call Vidalia and see if there is something they can do.
Today I had my monthly appointment with pain management doctor in Vidalia, Louisiana. At my last appointment, they did a bone density test; today they went over the results and it turns out I am developing Osteoporosis. They did not say where it was developing and I was too in shock to ask. I have it written down for next month’s appointment. The doctors are starting me on Fosamax to increase my bone density and hopefully help to where I am not as “brittle” for surgery time in August.
In other news, we have my fiance’s niece for a couple days at the apartment. 🙂 she is always a pretty good distraction for my pain. Tonight, we made tacos for supper 🙂 Another good bit of news is my fiance and I will start praying the rosary together every night and gonna start going back to church on sundays #RelationshipsWithGodlastLonger 🙂
A bad storm passed through Louisiana this week so it has been quite a bit of sleepless nights for me lately and then add in the dreaded once a month bullshit us females have to deal with, adding in stress, anxiety, hormones, emotional roller coaster, all that (sarcastic tone) “fun.” Tonight, I tossed and turned for 2 hours while my fiance’ just lays next to me snoring; sure, I could wake him up and make him suffer with me, but that is selfish plus he works to provide for us, so I guess he needs the sleep more than I do, but it sure would be nice to be able to talk these things out instead of blogging them.
I have a mattress that can elevate the head, it helps with migraines and sometimes my upper back (then I gotta deal with my lower back and hips hurting), but tonight my upper back is hurting and I am not even gonna use the head-elevation because lately it has been making my fiance’ back hurt in the morning; which sent me down the dreaded “rabbit hole” of the uncertainty of a future together: What if I become bed-ridden, what if he has to help me with everything more than he does now? That isn’t what he signed on for! It isn’t fair to him. I know he made a commitment to me and he constantly reminds me of it anytime I start crying and freaking out about how much pain I am in and the fears that sends into me about how uncertain my life and future are; I just don’t want him to have regrets or resentments. I love him, I really do, but when these fears kick in, I go into flight mode and tend to push him away, thinking I am saving him from being stuck in a sucky future with me and my damn disability. How can I expect him to accept it and what it does to me, if I cant even accept it completely myself?
If there was a pill created to make me “normal,” like everyone else in society, I would take it! Even though I also feel like having my disability has made me a well-rounded, wise, empathetic, compassionate, supportive, loyal, passionate person. Does it make me a bad person? Why is it I can be a support system and cheerleader for others with disabilities but yet I cant even accept myself completely? Does it make me a hypocrite? Maybe its just the pain talking; well the pain and the damn devil. I need to really work on myself and loving myself for me; whole-y and completely. Maybe after my surgery to fix my rods, maybe my pain will be better, and I can start being happy again. One can only hope.
I can’t be the only person that tends to dwell on the past, can I? okay, maybe not the only disabled person, but maybe I am? I don’t know. I just know, I tend to stay in the past and try to recapture those memories and try to implement them now in the current present; however, it doesn’t always work out.
Childhood was so much simpler; No responsibilities, friendships were easier to make and maintain, I wasn’t in as much pain, my anxiety/OCD/depression wasn’t bad until middle school/High School, I didn’t try to fit in as much, I had a pretty good idea of who Jamie Elizabeth Cormier really was, and of course People I cared about weren’t dying left and right. I had a wonderful childhood and lots of wonderful memories despite having my disabilities; sure, there was the occasional person that mistook me for a “monster” or would just stare/point (the bullying really didn’t start until 4th grade). However, like all children, I took it for granted and couldn’t “wait to grow up so that I could do what I wanted.” Boy, who sold me that fairy tale and can I sue them?
Sure, as an adult, I can do some things I want like staying up all night, going out when I want(as long as I am not in college, not working, don’t have previous plans, have the money to do it, and of course, not hurting.) I can drive (again, as long as I am not hurting and I do have the gas money.) I can drink legally(not a big drinker), buy cigarettes (but I don’t smoke), buy a lotto ticket/scratch-off ticket or go to the casino (if I can afford such luxuries at the time.) But, in the same token as an adult, I also have bills (my choice for moving out with my fiance’), I have to make some tough decisions, I have college courses (my choice) or have to work. I have to handle my own medical stuff (paperwork, phone calls, etc). its a lot of responsibilities that causes my anxiety to go into overload and I end up having emotional meltdowns at least once a week.
However, there is always a silver lining: if I stayed in the past, I wouldn’t have learned important life lessons (through mistakes, my experiences with bullying, fights with friends, failing classes,etc.) I wouldn’t have my friends that I made as I got older (junior high, High School, College, my medical “journey” (st Louis, Missouri.) I wouldn’t have my fiance’ and wouldn’t be planning for a wedding. I wouldn’t have my associates degree in general studies and pursuing my bachelors and then further on to try to better advocate for myself and others with disabilities and special needs- teaching young adults with them to better live independently to the best of their abilities through life skills, modifications, adaptations, job skills, and helping them find jobs they are passionate about instead of just the jobs like Goodwill or Arc. That is my dream and with the right amount of willpower and determination, support from family/friends/and community, any dream can become a reality.