Gut wrenching life, figuratively and literally

Pretty hard day at the office, honey. Sometimes I refer to it as the coal mines.

I'm not going to write a big long entry, but things are so hard sometimes at the day treatment center at the psych hospital. The therapy in group and alone is gut wrenching. For me, anyway.

And my gut hurts. Not as bad as it did last year, but it's there, pretty much all the time. And now I have to wait a month until I'll get the steroid shots. I don't know if they will work as well as they did last time, so that is also an unknown.

And, the special MRI I need was canceled *again*.

I'm thinking of flying to NY to do the darn MRI the way the surgeon needs it done, and stay to do the surgery. I'd have to stay for a month after surgery for rehab, and only after a month the surgeon said he'd consider whether or not I can fly back yet. It's a grueling surgery, and I am scared of it. And most of the time I wouldn't have my family with me. But so many people on my NF support list have done the reconstruction surgery, and especially the abdominal patients are very pleased that they have done so. It needs to be done, we are left with a flimsy skin graft between the world and our intestines, not much stomach wall muscle in my case, either. You can literally see my pulse by looking at my exposed femoral artery. I should have done this years ago, but for a million reasons it couldn't happen.

It would be weird to go to New York and not have my parents there, you know? It's one of the reasons I'm avoiding it. I have cousins, and a brother-in-law in Brooklyn, and friends from school days in Manhattan and Long Island, but my base, my parents and the house I grew up in is gone. I actually had a huge cry about that today in therapy. I still miss my father so much it hurts. I see him in dreams sometimes, but not often enough. So on top of everything, I'm still mourning. Mourning many, many things. So many that my heart feels like it could fall to pieces with the tiniest wind. And today it is. But it'll get strong again. It always does.

Going through the ramifications of the childhood abuse I suffered makes me realize that it, in some ways, shaped so many decisions and in a way, shaped who I am today. These are painful realizations. But it is also so clear to me how Hashem picked me up so many times, and put the breath of life into me figuratively and literally, a few times. He brought me to Israel, and brought me to the right man to marry. It is nothing short of a miracle that I married Robert.

I have a headache from all the crying today.

I am going to go try to practice horn now... I have my music therapy hour one-on-one tomorrow with Gil'ad, at the psych hospital. He's really wonderful. I'm trying to put things back together, slow progress.

I've been to three weddings and a Bat Mitzvah celebration in the passed few weeks, it's really a lot for me! I often had to put in ear plugs, or just walk far away from the music and crowds... not so PTSD friendly. But, I got out, and celebrated the good things of life with my community. I am grateful for that.

I really just can't write more about life at this time, what goes on with me in the day center is very intimate and private, not for blogging. But it's a very good place for me these days, on many levels. My team is amazing.
It's hard to be there with the abdominal pain, though, but I'm doing it. I will get through this chapter in my life... I see so clearly that this had to happen. After the reconstruction surgery, and after this hard, painful therapy lightens up, things will be good, I'm sure of it. Please G-d.

Shabbat Shalom