Avoiding Life One Post at a Time

Why blog?

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When you find yourself conversing with someone and blogging comes up, inevitably the question will be asked - why do you do it?  Alexia recently answered this question and asked her readers to do the same. 

To fully answer this, I have to examine the point I was at in life when I began blogging almost a year and a half ago and unfortunately for you, this involves me going back even further.

I had a really tough time in high school.  I went to an international school in Belgium where sports was king.  If you weren't into sports, you might as well kiss your social life goodbye.  Being a slightly pudgy, musically inclined nerd, I was not exactly popular.  Kids can be cruel, but teenagers can be worse.  Before I turned 19 I had tried to kill myself three times.  This is not something I'm proud of, but it's something I need to put out there.  I never felt I had an issue with depression, but rather that my issues were circumstantial.  I was pushed by circumstance to do something so drastic.  It never occurred to me that there might be a chemical imbalance in my brain making me incapable of dealing with tough situations. 

I remember the last time I tried it and ended up in hospital.  I just wanted out of there, but they wouldn't let me go without a psych consult.  This arrogant woman came in and asked all kinds of insulting questions - did I have voices in my head - and the like.  I wasn't crazy, I was just having a rough time with life, didn't they get that?

A year later I was finally able to move on with my life.  I went to music school resigned to being an old maid.  Imagine my surprise when I inadvertantly ran into my soulmate.  Life really changed for the better. We moved to Michigan, I got a wonderfully fulfilling and challenging job, lost loads of weight and got married.  Life couldn't have been better. 

It was then against all odds that in 2003 I found myself pregnant.  Call me old fashioned, but I was just happy we were married!  I was petrified though.  I thought he would kill me and even told him in a public place just in case.  Of course, he was absolutely delighted and we dove headfirst into the idea of becoming parents.  I bought every book on the subject and began to really embrace the idea. 

I read everything I could on pregnancy, labour and childbirth.  Of course post-natal depression came up in many of the books, but it never even occurred to me that this could be an issue I would face, as I'd hadn't considered the past episodes depressive.  I'd never been happier and the times in the past were, as I said, circumstantial. 

Imagine my surprise to find myself at home alone two weeks after giving birth, sobbing my eyes out.  I was absolutely miserable and couldn't understand why.  Unlike times before, I had every reason to be happy.  We had everything we could possibly want and then some, but I was an absolute mess.  I didn't want to get out of bed, but would drag myself downstairs and lie on the couch watching daytime tv, moving just to feed the baby and get more tissues.  I couldn't comprehend what was wrong with me.   

I started having panic attacks when I went back to work and finally decided I needed some help.  I'm not a fan of medication, but was able to get some counselling through work and talking to someone really helped.  When I got back into work mode I found I was able to direct my energy elsewhere and began to come out from under the cloud.

9 months later we moved to Ireland and I can honestly say I was back to normal and feeling fine.   I found moving to Ireland very hard - not least because we had sold everything we owned to get here and then the purchase of the restaurant we were to run fell through three weeks after we got here  but more because when we lived abroad, I had always found it necessary to cling to my Irishness, making sure everyone knew I was from ireland, despite my American accent.  I refused to apply for US citizenship when I had the chance, out of sheer pride.  Imagine my surprise coming back to live and feeling nothing but unwelcome, an outcast in the country I had held so dear.  It was hard, but I never fell back into the cloud that darkened my post-natal days.

Six months after arriving in the Emerald Isle, I once again found myself pregnant.  It was at this point I declared myself officially immune to birth control.  Once again I threw myself into preparations and even prepared for a home birth.  Again, it never occurred to me I would suffer from postpartum depression, as I had never admit to myself that that is what happened the last time.

After my second was born, I was fine.  She was a much harder baby to deal with, but I never had any of the dark miserable feelings I had after the first.  It was only after I finished breastfeeding about 8 months later that the cloud came back, with a vengeance.  I had no idea what was wrong.  I had no energy, no emotion, no zest for life.  I did the bare minimum to get through the day and even that would leave me haggard and empty. 

I had a lovely GP at the time and went to speak with her about it.  She wanted to put me on an anti-depressant and I was in such a state that I agreed.  She also wanted me to talk to someone.  I called up the Health board and was asked if I was sexually abused as a child.  I didn't understand how that was relelvant, but it quickly became apparent that the HSE wasn't interested in helping anyone else.   Unfortunately I had been abused as a child, but it was something I felt had long since been dealt with.  I never saw myself as a victim and tried to move on.   However I admitted it had occurred so that I could get  the help I so desperately needed.

Six weeks later, the anti-depressants were kicking in and I began to feel better.  I finally got an appointment with a HSE counsellor and was actually sort of looking forward to it.  I went to two appointments and was devastated.  She was not at all interested in helping me now, but instead wanted to talk about the abuse, something I really felt at peace with.  I couldn't continue, as it was a waste of both our time and God knows how many others were on the list who did need to talk about their abuse.  Not having the money for a private therapist I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I felt that isolation was one of my biggest issues and tried to get out to meet people.  It proved to be more difficult than I anticipated.  I felt that I needed to come to terms with the fact that I had given up the job I had loved and that I was but a housewife. So I bought a dreadful book that I thought would help.  The book was atrocious  - poorly written with tragically hypocritcal logic - but it led me to a forum where I ultimately discovered blogging.  I thought "Hey, I could do that" and the equally tragically named The Humble Housewife was born. 

Within a few months I had met some great people.  I had weaned myself off the drugs and never felt better.  Although I was isolated in the country with no car when himself was working, I felt like a part of a community, albeit it an online one.

Since starting blogging I have met bloggers in real life too and most of them are just wonderful people.  I finally feel like I am myself again.  Not only have I met new friends in Ireland, but all over the world.  I have received presents in the post, people have offered to have me stay and if I ever need to talk I know GTalk is just a click away.  It's quite amazing really.

When I started to blog it was to reach out, to somehow connect with the world I felt so isolated from.  But today, I blog to stay connected.  I blog to stay focused and to stay aware of the world around me.  Blogging has allowed me not only to grow and mature in my own right, but to learn so much more about the world at home and abroad.  I have discovered other cultures, learned fun geeky facts and maybe even become a little more liberal than I'd like to admit! :)  I blog to learn about myself and others and I blog to keep my sanity.

Blogging was my light at the end of the tunnel.  It may sound over the top, but I honestly feel it saved me.  I can't imagine where I would be right now without all the wonderful people I have met on this incredible journey.  Thank you for helping me, even though you may not have been aware just how much you did.

Sinead points out that I may not be alone either, blogging really can be a form of therapy!  I would strongly urge anyone suffering from feelings of depression or gloom to start blogging.  You can blog directly about your feelings, or blog about something that interests you, like I did.  It took a lot to get me to be this open on a blog, and indeed there's lots more I could say, but if I can get the message across to just one person, I'd feel good.   

Nip and Tuck

The irony that this ad is made by Dove does not escape me, however it is well worth a watch for anyone with young girls.  I was never fat as a child, but my mother was constantly on diets and obsessed with her weight.  One day when I was about ten she decided I was fat too and dragged me to Weight Watchers.  The result? I ended up fat and have struggled with my weight ever since, once topping the scales at 350lbs!  My Mom made food an issue.  I was a slightly chubby tween that would have been just fine had she left me alone.  Instead she deprived me of everything good and turned me into a craving machine.  I do not want that for my girls.  They are perfectly healthy now and I plan on keeping them that way.  :)

H /T Blissfully Domestic
 

It's Over!

I finally had my ultrasound on Wednesday at St. Vincents in Dublin.  I was called in almost immediately and told to change into a gown and then led to another waiting room where I waited for over two hours with several other be-gowned women.  It was a little nerve wracking to say the least.  We all got chatting and expressed our frustration at the wait and indignity of sitting there in a cold room for two hours in a hospital gown.  Some of these women, like me, were there for the first time and quite terrified.  Others were used to it, having to come as often as monthly for check-ups.  I was absolutely amazed and astounded by the bravery of these women.  They were battling cancer and took time out of their day to encourage us and put our minds at ease. 

I didn't think results would be immediate.  I had visions of waiting for another few months while the pictures were sent to a radiologist for interpretation. Not so.  I had a wonderful female doctor who did the scan and made the diagnosis right there and then.  She was efficient, thorough and very sensitive!  The accompanying nurse could not have been nicer.  It echoed what the women in the waiting room had told us, that once you got through administration, the care was second to none. 

Thankfully I do not have breast cancer.  I do have a small issue, but it is fully treatable and I should be back to normal in a few weeks.  I am so grateful for all your concern and support.  This has been a rough six months waiting and the sense of relief is quite overwhelming.  I am still appalled at the wait I had to endure.  Whilst speaking with the women in the waiting room they were all local and had mostly just waited a month to six weeks.  One of the women had a sister who did have to wait over six months to be diagnosed with cancer.  She then had to wait just over three months to get the surgery and begin treatment.  Thankfully she survived, but still.  I cannot imagine the pain and suffering she had to go through during that wait.  This is just not on.  If you haven't already, please, please head over to Two Tits and a Vote and sign the petition.  This needs to change and it won't if we just sit on our asses.

Normal posting will resume Monday.  I have been quite reluctant to post about other things as people seemed to be into following "the story!"  Thank you again for everything. 

Two Tits and a Vote

The lovely and talented Sabrina Dent has launched a campaign for better breast care in Ireland.  The aptly titled Two Tits and a Vote is a website dedicated to giving women access to the issues and access to their politicians.  It only takes a minute to sign the petition that will be presented to Mary Harney in March.  There are pre-written templates for letters to your TDs and the HSEor TTAAV will send a postcard on your behalf for a small donation. 

Please head over there, read the press release and see what's on offer.  Male or female, sign the petition, please - this has gone on too long.  Please tell your family, friends, enemies, neighbours to do the same, after all with breast cancer affecting just over one in four women in Ireland, we are all bound to face it one way or another, whether it be ourselves, a friend or a family member.  Something has to be done and this campaign is an excellent start. 

 

If you do nothing else worthwhile this week, if you couldn't be arsed to check out the site, for God's sake, just take a minute out of your day sign the petition.

My heartfelt thanks to Sabrina for highlighting my issue.  It is my sincere hope that more women will come out of the woodwork and people will know what is really going on and how ridiculous it really is.

That is all.

The Saga Continues...

I am quite reluctant to post here lately as it seems I am obliged to talk about the boob issue, at least until it's resolved! So here is an update.

The week after Christmas I received a letter in the post scheduling an ultrasound on my right breast for February 27th.  That is 6 months and a week from the original referral date.

Today I received a letter telling me I had an appointment with a "consultant surgeon" in Port Laoise on Monday.  This letter was a photocopy of the type that used to be done on ditto machines.  The name and date were filled in by hand.  It had been photocopied so many times, there was no margin and marks all over it.  I suppose he saves the stationary for private patients.  It has been photocopied for at least three years, as it has the old phone code, that was changed in 2005.  Would you put your health in the hands of such professionalism? 

The question is however if this is a duplicate appointment.  Do they not know that they already sent me to Dublin and I have an ultrasound scheduled?  Furthermore wasn't I supposed to be sent to Port Laoise for an ultrasound, not a surgery consultation?  The ineptitude of the HSE just continues to astound me.  I tried to ring and see what the hell was going on and thanks to ComReg's handy number converter I was able to get the proper number.  I got an unprofessional bumbling answering machine saying they were available Mondays or Thursdays for a period of two hours and to ring back then. Fuck me.

Why do I pay for health insurance when I can't even use it unless I want to fork out hundreds of euro upfront, only to have some of it reimbursed later?  I do want to fork out the money, but unfortunately I don't have it so here I am - a sitting duck.  I much prefer the American way of doing things where the hospital settles directly with the insurance company and sends you a bill for the difference.  They are also very good at letting you pay in installments if money is tight. 

So where do I go from here?  I suppose I will call these people on Thursday during the specified hours and see what is going on.  Will explain the situation, see if I can get ultrasound moved up here in the Midlands and if not, just stick with the date in Dublin.  I do not want to go to this appointment only to have the same thing happen and take up another womans spot.  God know how long she has  been waiting.

So there you go.  Nothing new really, just more incompetence within the HSE. Nothing new there I suppose.

And the verdict...

It's a hung jury.

If you've been with me since the beginning you know I went to my GP, who due to the lack of abnormalities present during the physical exam, was not overly concerned but wanted an ultrasound done to be sure she was not missing anything. 

After much screaming, blogging, crying, radio appeals, TD appeals and so forth I got an appointment yesterday in Dublin.  I drove the two hours to Dublin in horrendous fog with two screaming toddlers in the back fully expecting to get this sorted out and have the scan for once and for all. 

After dropping the kids off at my brothers, I walked up to the hospital.  I must say I was quite impressed.  To date it's the only Irish hospital I've been to that hasn't looked like a prison on the outside or a mental institution on the inside.  The staff were friendly and I was checked in for my half eleven appointment no problem.

An hour and a half later I was called in. I saw a nice enough consultant who did not introduce himself.  He did a similar exam, albeit slightly more thorough, to my GP and concluded exactly what she did - that nothing seemed obviously wrong but that he wanted to send me for an ultrasound just to make sure he was right. 

Having seen an ultrasound machine being wheeled in and out of the clinic several times during my wait, I assumed it would be done there and then.  No.  Several months from now was the reply I got.  Bye bye, thanks for coming, see you when we have your results.

So there you have it.  I know nothing more than I did before.  I also wasted a consultant's time with something my GP had already taken care of.  This man could have been seeing women who actually had cancer - there were plenty of them waiting - instead of wasting his, mine and their time by repeating something that had already been done.

Now it's not all bad.  I keep reminding myself that this man sees more boobs in a week (no jokes Grandad, please) than the average GP sees in a lifetime, so obviously he's even better equipped to  say there's probably nothing wrong and lack concern.  What I have decided to do is trust him.  If a breast expert in one of the busiest hospitals in the country is not concerned, then why should I be? 

I figure when I finally get the scan, if something is wrong, I've lived in America long enough to pick up a bit of a litigious streak, so I can deal with him / them then.

I really do hope everything is ok, and I certainly do feel better about it, but at the same time, I have this man, who has never had a breast, tell me that nothing is wrong, whilst I remain in pain and continue to bleed, albeit lightly.  There's definitely a nagging feeling - something I can't quite shake. 

When I had my first child and had a male OB/GYN I quickly learned that my own body was a much better judge of things than his uterus-less self and became much wiser the second time around.  I am wondering if I need to be the same here, but I don't want to be a reactionary either.  If he's not concerned, there's probably nothing to worry about... right?

Worst case scenario I am going to the states in March.  A good friend of mine has a sister who is an ultrasound technician.  When I was pregnant she allowed me to sneak in on a Sunday and did a free ultrasound to show me the baby.  Perhaps she'd be willing to do the same under different circumstances.  At least I can bring the film back here and have someone look at it. 

So that's where I am.  I am going to put things to the back of my mind and focus on Christmas.  I don't anticipate blogging much more about this in the near future as it's just depressing and not going anywhere.  Once again, thank you for all your support, it's really touching to know how many people care. 

Wishing you all the best Christmas!

-D

Hallelujah!

I just received a phone call, after resigning myself to another day of silence.  They offered me an appointment in Port Laoise on January ninth or an appointment this coming Friday morning at St. Vincents.  Gee... let me think! So hopefully my mind will finally be put to rest on Friday.  Either that or I will be referred for a biopsy and who knows where we will go from there?  But right now I am going to wallow in my relief that someone cares and that I will know something more by Christmas.  I only hope that anyone else who was waiting who maybe didn't make as much noise got sorted too!

Thank you for all the support and suggestions.  I've never looked forward to a medical test so much in my life!

From yesterday's Dail transcript - Charlie Flanagan followed through and has really impressed me:

208. Deputy Charles Flanagan   asked the Minister for Health and Children if her attention has been drawn to the fact that a person (details supplied) in County Laois, when referred from Portlaoise Hospital to Dublin for an urgent ultrasound, was told that they would have to wait up to four months before they could be seen; and if she will make a statement on the matter. [35110/07]

Minister for Health and Children (Deputy Mary Harney):   My Department is advised that a reply issued to the Deputy by the Health Service Executive regarding this matter on 17th December 2007.

And we've made contact...

Well folks, the HSE has been in touch and things are moving... more as soon as I know something.  Charlie Flanagan has remained in touch and will be bringing this up in the Dail tomorrow.  What a man!

Thanks again for all the support, comments, emails and links.  I am truly touched with the kindness,  concern and compassion of complete strangers.  Obviously it hasn't been for nothing and someone has taken notice.  We'll see where it goes from here!

Sometimes I make myself so angry...

You know the more I think about the conversation with my GP and ponder some of the comments people have left the more angry I get with myself.  Why did I just let him say that?  Why couldn't I have demanded more?  Why am I such a pushover?  If I was in a restaurant and my steak was overcooked I would sure as shit send it back, but when it comes to my own well being I let some doctor walk all over me.  Fuck.

To put things into perspective, he's a lovely country doctor.  His Daddy was a doctor and his Grand Daddy was a doctor and so on and so forth - their name is synonymous with health care in this town.  He's got a great reputation and I certainly don't want to tarnish that, but why am I settling for these nonchalant answers?  It's not his family who are potentially facing their last Christmas together!  I know I'm being melodramatic here, but is it really too much to ask that I know whether or not I have cancer by the New Year? 

Having said all that, I have received some emails and comments and come up with two potential options.  I could apply for an "exceptional and urgent needs" social welfare benefit to get the private treatment.  Given the man's job, we would probably have to pay it back eventually, but that is perfect - I wouldn't have it any other way.  I don't know if it will work, but perhaps where the HSE taketh away the Social Welfare department giveth! It's worth a shot if nothing else.

The other option is I go to one of the VHI Swift Clinics.  I can definitely come up with the €95 to get a referral to a Dublin hospital or even get the ultrasound there.  I am waiting on details from them.  It definitely seems like an option that might be slightly cheaper than going the private hospital route.  I was there once before with one of the kids and despite the cost was extremely impressed.

For those of you who missed the interview, the HSE would not issue a statement and wanted my specific details.  Cian gave me the numbers of the women he spoke to and I shall give them a ring tomorrow as "Mary."

I am definitely going to try and see Olwyn Enright tomorrow.  It might require some creative taxi catching and toddler wrangling, but I hope to make it work.  I have always been impressed with her and know she has had a similar scare herself.

The A&E camp out is still an option.  Always open to other creative suggestions as well!  Thanks again for all the support.  Things may look bleak, but I am trying to look at the good side of things.  Statistics statistics... on my side!  But best of all, Twenty Major himself commented here today and that really made my day! The joy!

Update...

Again thank you all for your support and suggestions.  A few updates.

I just did a short interview with Matt Cooper which might be aired on tomorrow's edition of Today FM's The Last Word.  They are going to get in touch with the HSE and see if they can get a response.

UPDATE - Looks like this will be aired tonight after six, all going well.  For those of you who know me personally I am going by the name Mary on the show.  Click here to listen live.  Here's hoping something will come from it!

I also just spoke with my GP who informed me that the list of people waiting for scans in the Midlands has been forwarded to a Dublin hospital.  He asked that I be patient and that I should be finding out something soon.  *SIGH*

I rang some of the private hospitals in Dublin to try and cost things out.  I would be looking at around €200 up front for the ultrasound.  If a biopsy is needed it would be another €250 plus pathology fees and then several hundred for the consultant.  My insurance (basic level) will cover some at about 35-60% depending on the service, but that would have to be claimed back by myself in May when the policy is up for renewal.  Unfortunately I just don't have that type of money lying around. 

On the suggestion that some people made of camping out in A&E until someone does the scan, I am seriously thinking about it.  With the man's work schedule and the wee ones at home, it won't be an option until Monday at which point in time I hope to have some better news.  If not, I might just do that.

I also received a response from Olwyn Enright who invited me to give her a ring or stop into her office tomorrow as she will be here.  I think I might take her up on it.  Of interest is that the Fine Gael TDs are the only ones I've gotten a response from with absolutely nothing from the HSE or Fianna Fail.  I suppose I'm not surprised. 

I am still wondering who else is affected by this.  There must be other women out there.  Where are they?  Surely I'm not the only one facing Christmas with the fear of the unknown hanging over my head.  In the meantime I will remain positive and hope that maybe the HSE will respond to the folks at Today FM, although it doesn't seem like bad press fazes them in the least.

Thanks again for all the support.