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cheesy-cakey · 3 years

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note this is a hatter au from a wattpad book I wrote.

You Weren't there

Kalim X Reader Angst

We had graduated.

We got married.

He inherited his family's riches.

We had a son.

We were happy...

We WERE.

I gazed out the window of my quarters.

I was no longer a Hatter... I was now an Al-Asim.

The Hatter name had died out the moment I decided to be a part of Kalim's family. I still owned our land and property. But I had no use for it.

I thought that this was going be our happily ever after.

Holding the one I love close. Kalim embracing me and our son.

But I guess reality doesn't have a happy ending... Especially us Hatter's.

As I watched the scene out the window.

In the garden was Kalim... With his 2rd wife and daughter.

Yes, that's right. I may be Kalim's first wife... but that doesn't mean I'm the only one.

I watched as he held her hand while with the other he carried his daughter.

I moved away from the window and sat on the plush bed of my quarters.

"How could I be so stupid. How could I be so blind. why did I think... That out of all the people in the world. I would have a happy ending." I muttered to myself as I leaned back on my arms tears pricking out of my eyes.

I went back to the window watching them hold each other close. I traced my hand on the glass feeling the coolness of the material.

I kneeled on the floor hand on the window sill while the other was on the floor.

"If happy ever after did exist~" I sang as I wrapped my arms around myself.

"I would still be holding you like this~"

"All those fairy tales are full of sh*t"

"One more f*cking love song I'll be sick" I sobbed as I was never meant to have a happy ever after.

3rd POV

Little did Y/N know that someone came to visit.

Watching through the crack from the slightly opened door.

Ali Al-Asim watched as his mother broke down crying.

"Why... why of all people... why does it have to be mother that suffers?"

He walked away knowing that it's better to not disturb her like this... He knew seeing him would just remind her of the happy ending she could've had.

He returned to him quarters and sat in one of the chairs in his room.

"Mother... You shouldn't be suffering like this... You told me father loved you... You said he loved you more than the stars in the sky... then why... why does he treat you this way? why does he neglect you? weren't we happy? weren't you happy?" He leaned his head back as tears pricked out his eyes.

"I never get to see you smile anymore. The smile that could shine brighter than the sun. Your eyes became dull... no longer full of hope and happiness like the stars."

he slammed his first into the table Infront of him as tears fell from his face.

"WHY DON'T YOU HAVE A HAPPY EVER AFTER!?"

The 15 year old couldn't bear to see his mother like this...

He's seen her cry too many times...

-Time Skip-

It was Ali's 16th birthday.

Which means a big celebration...

But his mother as much as she wants to attend she couldn't bring herself to leave her room.

The Hatter that used to be full of life, laughing, singing, dancing. The Hatter that enjoyed parties and seeing her friends smile... lost her spark.

-At the celebration-

"Happy Birthday, Young Master, Ali!" The servants cheered.

"Happy birthday, My son!" Kalim exclaimed as he greeted his first born.

"Thank you, Father!" Ali exclaimed with a smile.

"You're 16 now, which school do you wanna attend, Ali!?" His father asked excitedly.

"I want to go to Night Raven College! That's where you went to right, Father?"

"Yes, I did! Me and your uncle Jamil went there together!"

"Then it's settled, NRC it is!"

"I could have the headmaster make you dorm head as well!"

"No, Father. I wish to become dorm head with my own skills." He stated.

"Haaaah? fine, if that is what my son wants. Now everyone! enjoy the party!"

he walked away as he went to meet other guests.

A lot of people were here. His uncles from NRC. His Friends. even his half sister.

But there was only one person Ali wanted to be here.

Ali stood up from his seat and sneaked away.

He went to the quarters of someone he held dear.

he knocked on the door and heard a come in.

"Good evening, mother" he said with a soft smile.

"Ah! Ali, Happy Birthday" She replied with a tired but loving smile.

she was sitting by the window with it being wide open allowing the wind to enter.

He went closer the his mother and kneeled beside her.

"How are you feeling?" Ali asked.

"I'm feeling very well. So how is your birthday?"

"Nevermind the birthday. I just want to stay here with you" he said as he buried his face into her dress resting his head on her lap.

The lady giggled at her son's statement, watching him with caring eyes.

"I have a present for you" She said as she brought out a box.

Ali raised his head.

"Mother... you didn't have to" he said as he received it.

"Oh, but I do. this is something I've been meaning to give you"

Ali opened the box to see a top hat, a golden silk snake wrapping around the hat with a single Jasmine flower.

"It used to be mine. Sometimes in the Hatter family we give it to the person we marry but sometimes we also keep it. But this time it's time to pass it on to the descendant. I redecorated it for you. do you like it?" The elegant lady smiled as she remembered her memories with the hat and proud to be able to hand it down.

Ali looked as the hat.

"I love it... thank you mother" He thanked as he lied down on her lap once again.

"I'm glad you do, my dear son" She placed a hand on his white hair exactly the same as his father's.

Sher stroked his head gently as the moon shone down on them through the window.

-Timeskip-

It was now time for Ali to go to Night Raven College. He said farewell to everyone and as he was about to get on the Ebony Carriage he looked up to a window to see his mother smiling at him. he smiled back and entered.

-at the dorm sorting-

Ali was up next to be sorted.

"State thy name"

"Ali Al-Asim"

"The shape of thy soul... I see you best improve in Scarabia."

He stepped away from the mirror and joined the other students that were sorted into Scarabia.

He will make his mother proud.

-Time skip-

It had been a week since he had arrived. And just like that he had became a dorm head not from money but from skill.

He was currently in potions taught by Professor Crewel.

His phone then suddenly rang.

"Excuse me, Professor. I need to take this call"

"Of course, pup. but next time I won't be allowing it."

Ali answered his phone and it was one of the servants.

He was analysing his potion while he answered.

"What is it? I told you not to call me around this time because I'm in class."

"Apologies, young master. But it's about Lady Y/N"

"Mother? what about her? does she miss me? tell her I'll visit this weekend."

"It's not that sir"

"what is it then?"

"she umm"

"spit it out"

"The lady has passed away"

Ali suddenly dropped the beaker shattering it to a million pieces.

"Al-Asim! bad pup! what are you doing!?"

Ali stood up knocking his seat over. He slammed his hand on his desk that still had the shattered glass and spilled potion. good thing that the potion doesn't give much effect since it wasn't finished.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN PASSED AWAY!?" He yelled as tears pricked from his eyes.

"Al-Asim?" his professor called out worried.

"I mean what I exactly said, young master. The lady passed away earlier this morning. when the servant went to serve her breakfast she didn't wake up. they tried waking her up then realized she wasn't moving. they called a physician... and he said the lady had passed away"

"no... you're lying"

"Ali Al-Asim, what's wrong? Get your hands off the desk your starting to bleed." Crewel said as he took the boys hand from the broken glass and started cleaning it.

"Mother... is she really dead?"

"yes, sir"

"wait... your mother?" his professor asked

"As in... Y/N? she's... no longer with us?" his eyes wide as saucers.

Ali fell on his knees tears spilling not showing any signs of stopping any time soon.

"Mother... no... no... no no no NO! SHE CAN'T BE GONE!" He sobbed.

"Ashengrotto, take him to the infirmary to clean his wound up. The rest of you dismissed. I need to speak with the head master."

"Yes, professor"

-time Skip-

currently Ali was in the head masters office.

"Al-Asim. I heard what had happened. I'll let you go home for as long as you need. I apologize for your loss. You can use the mirror to go home." Crowley said as he watched the boy sob.

he himself wanted to cry since one of the most lovable students he had, had passed away.

"Your mother... was an incredible woman. Not only as a student but as a friend to the rest. It's a shame she... had to leave us so early. I thought that maybe... I'd be dead by the time she leaves."

"Thank you, headmaster... I'll be... heading out now" Ali exited the room and went to the mirror and went home.

Once he had arrived he was greeted by the servants but he just walked right pass.

His sister also greeted him, but he continued walking.

soon he arrived at his mother's bedroom. He saw her... looking like she's sleeping soundly... knowing she's never waking up again.

He walked to her bed side. held her now cold hand and feel to his knees and sobbed uncontrollably

"Mother!... Why.... WHY DID YOU HAVE TO LEAVE! I WAS GOING TO GIVE YOU THE HAPPY ENDING YOU DESERVE! BUT WHAT!? YOU ENDED YOUR STORY WITH LONGING THAT WAS NEVER FULFILLED!? WHY!?" he cried... not leaving her side for the rest of the day.

During her funeral, all her friends from NRC came. Tears spilled everywhere as they found their dear friend no longer with them.

they approached Ali who just stood by her coffin.

"Sorry... for your loss... Ali"

He just kept silent.

For the long duration of her funeral... Not once did his father... the man his dear mother loved and longed for, show up.

This had made the boy even more upset. but that did not overpower the sorrow he had.

-Time Skip-

The funeral had long ended...

His mother was buried...

he returned to school but barely spoke.

"Al-Asim... pup. I suggest you go meet with Professor Yuu. You need it"

Ali merely nodded as he went to his magicless professor who taught about monsters and health.

"Ali... take a seat"

Ali sat down across him.

"You haven't been sleeping have you... you have bags under your eyes. You look pale. Ali"

He just sat there.

"I know... I know you're depressed... Your mother was my vice prefect back in our school days. she was a wonderful woman to be with... she laughed... she sang... she smiled... but you know what I love most about her?"

Ali looked up and looked at Yuu.

"She makes people around her smile as well. She wouldn't want you to act like this. Y/N, She too lost a parent in her younger days. But that didn't stop her from being happy... She always had joy in her eyes... and you know you have her E/C eyes as well"

"So please... Don't let this bring you down. Your mother... Be like her. someone who smiles, laughed and most of all makes others do the same. sure reality doesn't have a happy ending. But you're writing your own story so make sure it leads to one."

Ali thought about it. looks back down... looks at the mirror in the room and looked straight into his E/N coloured eyes.

"You're right, Professor. Even if mother is gone... I should make her proud" Ali stood up with smile.

Ali bowed.

"Thank you, Professor Yuu!"

"Just call me, Yuu."

Ali smiled and ran off back to his dorm and to his room.

Yuu on the other hand stood up and went to the window and looked at the sky.

"I wish... I could've held you one last time... Y/N... I loved you so much" Yuu said as he let the tears fall.

Ali pulled a box from under his bed and opened it...

It may not fit his outfit but it doesn't matter.

he stood up holding the object and went to a mirror.

He looked straight at it and placed the hat he was given on his head.

"I'll prove... that I can give us a happy ending, Mother"

and with that Ali changed... He changed for the better. all the old staff watched him... and it reminded them of someone who they once cherished in this school.

-Time Skip-

it's been 2 years since Y/N's passing. Ali Al-Asim was now 18 years old. A third year.

But what's interesting is. when his 1st year ended the mirror had announced something... He was transferred to a different dorm.

-Flashback-

Just as they were all about to leave.

"Wait... It seems someone's soul had reshaped into something new." the mirror had stated.

"What? but that's not possible" Crowley said in surprise.

"Ali Al-Asim... Step forward"

Ali hesitantly stepped up.

"Yes... it seems your soul had reshaped... though you are still suited to be a part of Scarabia... Your heart... Is perfect for the Ramshackle Dorm"

"Isn't that"

"Your mother's old dorm... well it seems like you're becoming just like your mother" Crowley smiled as he placed a hand on the boys shoulder.

-end of flashback-

And since then he became the dorm head of the Ramshackle. His hat suited his outfit. he was happy.

And right now the 18 year old was going to make a decision that'll change his life.

Currently standing Infront of his father, Kalim Al-Asim. wearing a somewhat butler outfit somewhat similar to that of what his mother wore back in her younger days as a Hatter.

"Father... I don't wish to be an Al-Asim anymore."

"What? could you repeat that?"

"I don't want to be an Asim."

"But son! you're my eldest! you're my successor!"

"And I don't want to be your successor!"

"why!?"

"I want to continue mother's legacy!" Ali yelled as he gripped his wrist behind his back while looking down.

"what?"

"I want to be a Hatter! I want to carry on the Hatter name! I want to do this for mother! it the least you could let me do"

"the least I could let you do?"

"Yes! The most you could do was probably be there for her!"

"Ali"

"You left her all alone! making her cry every night! every night for you!"

"She didn't get her happily ever after! Cause you weren't there there for her! you weren't there for us!HECK She would've been contented with just you being there even if you didn't love her anymore!"

"YOU DIDN'T EVEN COME TO HER FUNERAL!" Ali snapped.

"I know you are aware that You're naive, gullible, oblivious and all that. but please... just see it... the least you could do" Ali looked up and looked Kalim straight in the eyes.

Kalim staring back into E/C colored orbs that was exactly the same as his wife that had recently passed away.

He looked down and took a deep breathe

"Alright"

"Huh?"

"I'll... let you go..."

"Really?"

"yes... as you said... it's the least I could do for not even attending the funeral."

"Thank you... father" Ali smiled as he walked away.

this was a new start for Ali... Becoming just like his mother. Writing a happily ever after for them.

We can't say the same for Kalim though.

He sat at his chair.

His 2rd wife entered the room and sat beside him.

"What did he want?" she asked.

"To leave the family"

"what?"

"He... wanted to become a Hatter to continue Y/N's legacy."

"I see... don't worry I'm here... and besides I'm sure we can make a new heir."

"I'm not in the mood"

"But, dear~"

right then and there Kalim snapped.

"I SAID IM NOT IN THE MOOD!" He yelled.

"BECAUSE OF YOUR DAMN FAMILY THREATENING TO HURT MY SON AND MY BELOVED WIFE I WAS FORCED TO NEGLECT HER!"

"IF IT WASN'T FOR YOUR DAMN FAMILY I WOULD PROBABLY BE HOLDING HER RIGHT NOW WITH ANOTHER CHILD!"

"ALL BECAUSE YOU WANTED ME TO LOVE YOU! YOU'RE DELUSIONAL IF YOU THINK I WOULD!"

"What is it... WHAT IS IT DOES SHE HAVE THAT I DON'T!?"

"My heart... that's what it is... SHE WAS MY EVERYTHING! HER SMILE THAT WAS PRACTICALLY MY SUN! HER EYES THAT SHIMMERED LIKE THE STARS!"

"SHE DESERVES TO BE DEAD! SHE'S NOT FIT TO BE YOUR WIFE! SHE'S NOT FIT TO HAVE YOU! ME, ME, ME! IT WAS ME WHO SHOULD HAVE YOU! SHE'S HIDEOUS! SHE'S DUMB! SHE'S NAIVE! SO WHY WON'T YOU LOOK AT ME!"

"DON'T YOU DARE THAT ABOUT HER! FIRST OF ALL SHE'S THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN TO HAVE EVER EXISTED THAT EVEN VIL SAID SO! YOU WOULD NEVER BE AS BEAUTIFUL AS HER! SECOND SHE GRADUATED FROM NRC WITH TOP GRADES FITTING INTO THE TOP 50! SHE KNOWS MORE THAN YOU EVER WILL! AND THIRD OF ALL SHE'S NOT AS NAIVE AS YOU THINK! SHE EXPERIENCED THE CRUELTY OF THE WORLD TO THE POINT SHE WAS ALMOST BROKEN! BUT SHE JUST SMILED AND SAID THAT EVERYTHING WOULD BE JUST FINE! I BET YOU WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HANDLE IT IF IT HAD HAPPENED TO YOU! FACE IT I'LL NEVER LOOK AT YOU THE SAME I DO WITH HER!"

"THAT'S WHY I KILLED HER SO YOU WOULD ONLY LOOK AT ME- MPH!" she clasped her mouth shut trembling from what came out.

"what? WHAT did you just say?"

"n-nothing!"

"WE HAD A DEAL! YOU WOULD LEAVE THEM ALONE IN EXCHANGE FOR ALL OF THIS!"

"I-I didn't mean to!"

"DIDN'T MEAN TO MY *SS! AS IF I'D BELIEVE THAT! JAMIL!"

Soon Jamil entered the room. in truth he was about to enter till he heard screaming and heard the entire thing.

"Yes, Kalim"

"Take her away. make her confess EVERYTHING that she had done. After that could you call Azul? I want to have a talk with him to deal with something."

"Yes, of course" Jamil left with the 2nd wife being taken away by guards.

"WAIT! KALIM PLEASE! I LOVE YOU! DON'T DO THIS TO ME!"

As they all left the room Kalim sat down and tears started running down his face.

"Why was I so stupid? thinking I could protect you without having to hurt anyone but as a result I ended up hurting you... then lost you. I should've dealt with them from the start. I should've just been there for you... now I not only lost you... but I lost our son too... haha! why am I so stupid?"

For the rest of the night Kalim just cried. knowing can never bring you back.

-END-

"isn't that an interesting timeline."

"Didn't know that there would be a bad ending to their story. I hope this timeline won't stick it would be so sad~" a voice said as she closed a book that's titled 'You Weren't there'

soon the book started to become grains of sand.

"oh? what is this?"

"The timeline is disintegrating"

"I guess that means that story won't be sticking around."She then pushed up her glasses as she looked back at the millions of books being written each having a pen that glows with inspiration and life."I wonder who's story would be finished next~ would the story disappear? or will it be part of the official collection?"

"Let's see what endings are in-store~ After all"

"I am the story keeper~"

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst kalim #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #kalim x reader #scarabia

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thehappiestandunluckiest · 4 years

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Being Radioactive

If the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of radioactive is the imagine dragons song, same.

So, January 10th, I traveled up to Lisbon. A scared, young gazelle, about to absorb a radioactive substance that would hopefully kill the powerful assassin that had taken over her 20 year old body. Something that I never had felt before but felt as soon as I was told that I had cancer was.... There are multiple cells in my body right now just eating away at my temple, and I have no power over it, and at any moment one could just go on a little trip through my body and stop at a vital organ and make itself at home and have little babies and over run my body and kill me. Now, I know that sounds so dramatic, but that’s how it feels, or at least that’s how I felt. I felt helpless, like a ticking time bomb, cancer is a bitch but feeling so helpless and even worse, feeling like a foreigner in your own body was so odd. I felt displaced like I was in my body but also being kicked out of it. I know I didn't have it anywhere near as bad as others have, I was lucky, I am lucky, that’s what I kept telling myself. But I couldn’t ignore feeling like I had an army of little Hitlers in my body, over throwing my own cells, altering my hormones, chewing through me.

I traveled up to Lisbon, smile on my face and jokes always on the tip of my tongue, but that’s how I react to stress, that why my bosses always love me, I thrive in chaos, or at least I trick everyone else into thinking I do. I was anxious but relieved to be getting this out of the way. If all worked out, I would be free of these pests that contaminate relentlessly. But i would also be having scans to see if it had spread, and that freaked me out, I wanted to be oblivious and stay in denial but I know that’s not the way to go.

So we travel up to Lisbon, and have two days as an out-patient where I spent a couple of hours each day having tests run and injections given in the oncology dept. It was fun having THE nurse from hell. I’m joking, but she sure was a character (and we all know what that means). Now I am not mean, but you will soon understand why I didn’t gel to this woman. So she grabs me and drags me to a room, “oh the nurse has vanished, we will just have to start ourselves” this set off alarms in my head - she seemed super hostile and her stabbing me with needles was not what I wanted.

She flings a plastic cup at me, “you have to pee in this”, she throws me into a bathroom, with another girl trying to pee into a cup. She goes “HA! oops” and closes the door. NOW LISTEN HERE! Have you ever had to pee into one of those cups? It’s a very very vulnerable position to be in. Hunched over, begging your bladder to open the flood gates, hand in the toilet bowl covered in your own piss. I felt so sorry for her. So I pee into this cup, clean up and go back to the nurses office. The older nurse is back and I let out the breath I had been holding in out of anxiety. Now, I just want to mention that all these stories are super real and I for real can’t make this sh#t up!“ God! Those shoes need to go into the bin! They’re so dirty.” She says as she’s leaning on the door frame.

This woman! I’m sat in the chair anxious awaiting the medicine that will help stop me from dying and she’s talking about my slightly dirty sneakers....So, the older nurse asks me where I’m from, she worked in London for a few years so we get into some small talk whilst she takes my blood, she’s distracting me from my ridiculous phobia. She asks me what I’m studying. “Oh - no. I actually work in a hotel, I’m a waitress.” “WHAT?! You don’t have a degree? How far is that going to get you, you can’t go far in life without one?” Now at this point I wanted to puke on the floor, not because I felt sick but so she would have to clean up my bile from the ground - that’s her job, how amazing is your f#cking degree now love? But I am a good christian girl so I simply say “well, I didn’t want to go to university. I got a good job straight out of school in a company that I can evolve in and have been evolving in”. The older nurse says she agrees that I am doing a good job going after what I want and not what is expected of me and that its the fact that you love what you do that counts. “Ok Emma that’s everything for today, see you tomorrow, same time!”

Now lets get to the real radioactive part.

Let’s set the mood. I haven’t eaten anything, not that I’d want to. Yesterdays injections have a side effect of headaches, not too bad. I am pale, make upless and wearing xxl sweat pants and an xl sweater - I’m more sweatpants than human but it made me feel all cozy. I have a suitcase filled with art supplies, my laptop, books and toiletries - the essentials you might say. Feeling sorry for me yet? I actually wasn’t too worried only one side effect - the slow death of suffocation if your esophagus swells up from the radiation burning your salivary glands. No biggie. (I would like to inform you all that even though this is all true - its sarcasm just for anyone who’s worried about me).

The hospital is huge, and very luxurious. Everyone is walking around with gucci bags and beautiful tans and I’m looking like hell but that’s ok I’m beyond caring.

I’m escorted to my room, it’s beautiful. Huge windows, lots of space, overlooking some of the city and the pediatrics block. I’m given the big speech explaining everything, let me give it to you in precis form as my Dad would say. I have to flush the toilet 4 times when i poop, and twice when i pee. The toilet has chambers so you have to aim said poop and pee into these chambers (it was like yoga trying to get into positions to aim but I don’t want to describe my bowel movements too much we aren’t that close yet - at least buy me coffee first!)

So the room is lovely only noticable difference is the space odessy esque toilet, and the huge lead panel that is placed infront of the door. They repeat that all of this is not for my own safety but for everyone elses, I harness all the power - is this the part where I become a super villan?

The fancy director of nuclear science came to my room in her anti radiation suit (yes - just like in HBO Chernobyl) and I injected the little pill through the rather odd tube. It was in a big lead box and had all the hazard signs on it and and made a *shhhhhhhh* sound when the box opened, what a fancy-dancy little pill.

Surprisingly I did not glow in the dark or have magnetic abilities - disappointing to say the least.

My two day stay was pretty uneventful, the food was actually quite good. I drank 10l of water and 2l of pure lemon juice - I was on the toilet ever 30 minutes and spent a good 7 minutes each time for the flushing routine. This lemon juice was to keep my salivary glands working which would stop my throat from swelling and thus stop me from maybe chocking myself to a long, endless sleep. I ended up with ulcers in my mouth from the lemon juice, BUT my skin got really clear and I had never felt so hydrated in all my life. I was left alone and my only comunication with my nurses was through the telecom. When my food was left for me I had to stand in the corner next by the window and wait until they had left my food behind the big lead panel before I could move again. It was kinda crazy because they looked at me like I was a monster in a cage. You know when you were a kid and turned the lights off in the hall and ran to your bed out of fear of the dark? That’s how they looked at me - it was oddly humourous and simultaneously eery and isolating (but I am writing this entry during the COVID19 pandemic and have been isolated in my house for 2 months now so that was nothing looking back on it).

All fluids that came out of me were very radioactive so I had to shower often. I was scared of choking in my sleep so I set alarms every two hours (I’m just very cautious ok!). On my last day I needed to have an MRI and blood tests done and so myself and another young girl, same age as me and same situation as me, were escorted to the tests area. We wadled through the whole hospital, the nurse would ask everyone to stay away from us and people would scatter away from us like we were radioactive - wait a minute.....

I had my scan, and had the geirger meter see how radioactuve I still was. Honestky this was what I was scared of. Not the actual treatment itself but what the results would be. I think this is a normal fear. It would change everything. Had it spread? Had it evolved into an even more malicious beast? So many thoughts running through my head. We went back to our rooms and awaited these dreaded results.

My dad had driven up to Lisbon to pick me up, he loves the drive. He calls and says that he is going to wait for me to be ‘set free’ until he goes into the hospital (all of us have spent too much time in hospital to the point that its a normal place to spend our time so we try and avoid it like the plague).

The doctor comes into my room and stands right next to me. Crazy human contact wow it’s so crazy how powerful having someone even just stood close to you has an effect on you.

My results are very positive - thank God. I smile and thank the doctor, I really am so happy. This enourmously heavy weight has been taken off of my shoulders, my eyebrows unforrowed and my shoulders eased up, my jaw declenched, my stomach stopped its sumersaults and I could breathe again.

The nurse calls me to say I need someone to come and get me for me to be discharged. I try and call my dad, straight to voicemail. I message no answer. I call my mum no answer. I call my brother, finally an answer after 4 attempts but he’s useless to me 2 hours away. shit. I am finally free and I can’t get out of the damn place! After an hour of me trying to call him and me freaking out because I don’t want to be stuck here any longer. I hear a voice through the door. “I am looking for my daughter”, ok lets get out of here.

I cant hug anyone or stay too close, I am tired but dying for some icecream. I finally am free, free of this monster. I wont be 100% out of the woods for a while yet but for now I am good. I stay in isolation at home for a week before I am allowed back out in public. The day I finally go out in public is to the shopping centre. I set off the alarms. The security alarms were going off as I walked past them. I walked through the shopping mall lauging like a lunatic, I really was radiocative after all. This was it- my super power.

I still worry from time to time, I get little scares and I obsessivly check for lumps and bumps, but I can rest a little easier now. I hope noone has to go through what I went through, or anything of the sort. But I would like to say that it wasnt all that bad, the treatment ran so smoothly that I thought that they had given me a dud pill. The operations before the treatment were also very smooth sailing. The whole thing went by easily (as easily as cutting your throat open can go), Why am I saying this? Because before I went for treatment I wanted to see how others reacted just so that I knew what to expect and so that i could prepare. Online everything was negative, blogs said that it was the worst experience. Not that it’s a great experience either but I think it’s important to not scare people about these things. Being sick sucks. It truly does, but being cured, or trying to get better is a true blessing, and us lucky lucky individuals who have access to health care (and even luckier if its free health care) and those of us who can go through these operations and come out on the other side should be so so grateful. I’m grateful for my operations, my access to clean hospitals, the best medical professionals, the kind auxilary staff that smiled at me when I was scared, the recepcionists that winked at me and wished me well. My parents that drove me accross the country to be treated by the best. My job for giving me health insurance that helped pay for some of the costs.

What I’m trying to say is that we sometimes over think the bad, and honestly I could easily sit here and write about a WHOLE LOAD of bad that has happened to me, but it wont changed anything or make it better, but what does is looking back and saying wow- I am so lucky. I had people send me best wishes, my collegues at work looked after me when I was ill, my family cared for me when I wasn’t able to do so on my own. Be grateful, add sunshine to a rainy day and see the rainbows appear.

love,

Em x

#cancer #thyroid #operation #hospital #thyroidcancer

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leslieeve · 6 years

Text

Sick of Being Sick.

Just the beginning... Hi, my name is Leslie, I'm 36 years young, and l am currently living the battle of my life. I'm talking a figurative blood and guts UFC fight. Medically, emotionally, spiritually and financially I could have never imagined the intense downward spiral that my life would begin in the spring of 2014. This could have happened to anyone, but it chose me. I entered into and started living a chapter out of a Steven King novel. I'd like to preface my journey by saying that I used to work 2 waitressing jobs, 7 days a week. I prided myself on being kind, generous, a hard worker and pretty freaking witty. Sarcasm was my best friend. I had 5 cats who I loved more than anything, and lived in my house that I bought in 2002, and kept 100% by myself. I loved being crafty, scrap-booking, journalling (since I was 14- I have about 37 of them), cleaning obsessively and making people smile. I'd been accused of, "liking everybody" and, for the most part- I did! That's why I loved waitressing so much, I met amazing individuals on a daily basis, and for an hour or so, I was able to make them happy. So, summing this up, I'm one of those annoying 'smiley' people, and I love it... How to begin blogging a nightmare... Well, It all started on May 5, 2014, my sweet bunny was losing his battle to pancreatitis, and we were at the veterinarians office. I was laying around him on the floor, sobbing like an infant as he took his last breath. After a half hour, I got up off of the floor to move to another room with him, and noticed the ridiculous pain and swelling in my knees. I sat with him for 3 additional hours, saying prayers and telling him how much I love him. My heart was broken and now I was facing headache and flu-like symptoms. By the time I drove home, I was incredibly sick. (I really mastered the art of 'puking while driving' starting that night.) For the next few MONTHS I had a constant fever of 104, night-sweats, fatigue, exhaustion, swollen hot shiny red joints, nausea, chills, vision problems, breathing difficulties, dizziness etc. Being my Father's daughter, and having been raised as a fighter- I was still trying my very, very best to continue to work an overflowing schedule. I was a head waitress at both jobs and I was failing miserably. I wasn't eating because my mouth had a funny taste, I had zero appetite and the fatigue was unreal. Coca-Cola had become my litmus paper, as to how sick I was everyday. I would buy bottled Coke, and by sipping it and seeing what it tasted like 'that day'- I could gauge the severity of my illness for the next few hours. I was not bathing, or even taking my clothing off when I was home. I would just sleep in my uniforms (shoes and all) until it was time for work the following day. My knees had become so swollen that I had to cut my pants on the sides to make more room. Breathing was getting tougher too. I would find myself having to stop and force myself to take deep breaths. If I exerted myself too much I would end up laying on a booth, numb, shaking and drooling, with incredible difficulties trying to get verticle. If I took the risk and showered, I had to set aside 60 minutes to lay naked on the bathroom floor because I was 100% drained. Again, drooling, slurring and borderline consciousness. What was happening to me?!!? F.Y.I. puh-lease don't think I wasn't going to the doctor during all of this terror, because I was. A lot. A looot. My Dad was making my appointments and driving me weekly, all while he was watching me slowly die. Just waste away. (His car now sporting a smooth "vomit" scent, thanks to me.) The doctor was putting me on antibiotics one day and anti-inflammatories and steroids the next, unfortunately I was only getting worse. The fever continued to hang around and some nights would hit 104.6. All of the vomiting was ruining my throat, my knees were so swollen and hot to the touch, that they could melt bags of ice- in minutes. With those 2 symptoms and a blood test, he diagnosed me with Rheumatoid arthritis immune disease. From that point forward it appeared that ALL of my symptoms were from RAID. It was as if the doctor stopped looking for the root of my demise, because he found one. Maybe he was scared too, but so was I damn it and my health was deteriorating at the speed of McDonalds drive-thru during lunch-time. One evening in early October, I honestly thought it may be the end for me. I woke coughing up blood, and felt as if every inch of my body had giving up, I was out of gas, and barely running on fumes. Out of pure desperation and necessity, I went to an Emergi-Care center in Bethlehem. (First, I left a note behind on who would take my cats, incase I would never return home.) The doctor was very blunt (a.k.a. a$shol*) and as he talked AT me, he said he thought I was unbelievably sick, and that he thought that I would surely die if I left the building. Then he scolded me for getting sooo ill, and then decided that he couldn't treat me, because I had "chosen" to wait too long to see him (a man I'd never met before). I was seeing a physician, but it hadn't been him and he was clearly annoyed and disgusted with me. He reluctantly did a flu swab of my nose (that he said I didn't need, because it wasn't the flu virus) which came back negative. So then his majesty stepped off of his high-horse long enough to put me on the antibiotics which combat Anthrax, and that was that. What? Anthrax? Because I was exposed when I was never in the military? What an incredible mind fu*k, and 3 hours that I will never get back. I rate his bedside manner a big fat zero. So, I went home, spooned with my Eddie cat, and cried myself to sleep- which didn't take long because I was dehydrated and falling apart. Needless to say, I continued to get sicker. I'm 5'10" and was barely weighing 95lbs. My once tan skin had morphed into a light yellow hue, my lips were red, but now were cracking, peeling and gray. My eyes had always been green and bright, framed in mascara, however they'd become blurry, wet and had large dark bags underneath. I constantly smelled mold in my nose. At this point I had been suffering for almost 5 months with these horrendous symptoms. Alone in my house, afraid that each nap had become a gamble that I would lose, and not wake up. Russian roulette immune disease style. My Dad had simply had enough. He was not going to sit by and bury his best friend- he was putting his foot down NOW. He took me to the doctor yet another time. However, this time, he put aside his gentle, humorous demeanor and told the doctor in no uncertain terms that he was watching his daughter die and that if he didn't do something else to help me, he would call his attorney and sue him for malpractice. Shockingly enough (insert sarcasm here), the doctor suddenly had a fire lit under his ass and ordered me an emergency appointment with a highly respected rheumatologist. She normally has a 3 month wait, but not for this sicky- It was Friday, and the appointment was for Monday. Just one question though... how on earth was I going to survive the weekend?! Woke up early Monday and crawled to my front door. I slept on the floor, vomiting relentlessly, all weekend because I couldn't muster up the energy to walk. My superhero Dad then had to basically carry me to his car. Once buckled in I proceeded to vomit and cry because I was too weak to sit up. Thankfully my Dad tried his best to stock the car with pillows, blankets, water, crackers and plastic bags so it took the edge off of sitting in traffic. Every car ride seemed hours long, I couldn't wait get back in bed or atleast lay on the floor. We arrived at the new doctors around 11am, she dressed very unprofessionally, tight work out spandex. Da fuq? She took one look at me and said that I was incredibly sick. No sh*t sherlock. While listening to my heart, she asked "how long have you had this heart murmur?" I told her that I don't have one and never did. She put the stethoscope to my ears- I had a f*cking heart murmur?? Immediately, sent me for a plethora of blood work and cultures, 16 I think, which drained me severly. I had almost passed out when my Dad showed up with O.J. and muffins- to save the day. Again, he carried me out to the car and took me home. He tucked me in, and I slept for 20 straight hours. I didn't get up to eat or even use the toilet. The following morning I felt better than I had in a very long time. Maybe some of the useless medications were finally starting to kick-in. I took a chance, (a.k.a. stubborn) and drove myself to my psychologists office for my 2:00pm appointment. We were about half-way into my mind enlightening session when my phone rings. Then again. Then again. So, I looked at my therapist with lump in my throat and picked up my phone. 3 missed calls from my family doctor. Then my phone rings and it's him again. I answer and it's my doctor, he says that I have a horrible infection in my blood and that I need to drop everything and RACE to the hospital. He said to run red lights go through stop signs, speed and if I get pulled over- keep going and the hospital would explain it to the police. After a quick "ohmyGod" and freak out, my psychologist hugged me and I promised to go directly to the ER. So, I did what anyone else would do, I went home and I fed my 5 cats. What the heck was I thinking you ask? Well, I figured that I would only be in the hospital a day or two and that if I fed them and cleaned their litter boxes then no one would have to come care for them while I was in the hospital. Plus, I really needed a hug from my Eddie-cat. As anyone who knows me will vouch and say that I might be just a little bit obsessed with my pets. Haha. Especially Eddie-cat, I worried about that feline like nobody's business. I got my much desired cat-fix, and then shortly after, I got in my car and headed towards the hospital. (I may have also stopped for a Coke- my memory's a touch foggy... I totally did.) As soon as I got there my dad was already waiting for me. (#bestdadever) I could see the pain and fear in his eyes and it truly broke my heart. We ended up waiting 2 hours in the dirtiest emergency room. We killed time laughing and joking until they finally called my name. (Kind of ironic since they told me to race to the hospital, but anyhow.) Dun dun dun. The nurse put me in a bed in the emergency department and hooked me up to IV saline and antibiotics. Dad and I watched bad tv, until they took me upstairs and gave me a room alone, in infectious disease. I was fairly relaxed, happy to finally end this era of illness, when the nurse came in to ask how I felt about my upcoming open heart surgery. MY WHAT?! No, no, no I told her, I was in for a blood infection. Silly nurse, get your mind right. She said the doctor would be in to speak to me momentarily. Ten minutes or so passed, and my Dad walked into my hospital room. Yeah! All is good, my Daddy is here... and then the doctor walked in behind him. Ugh oh. This nightmare is suddenly very real again. My Dad, looked more handsome than ever. His blue eyes had been crying as he walked over and took my hand. The doctor stood on my other side and explained to me that I had an infection in my blood and that it had destroyed the mitral valve in my heart. He said that the next day, I would be transferred to a larger hospital and would spend 2 months there on intense IV antibiotics before I would have to have open heart surgery to replace my mitral valve. I went into shock. Open heart surgery?!? They're going to break my chest?? But I don't have heart problems!!! I just have a blood infection!!! I'm only 33 years old!!! I want Eddie cat! My dad and I hugged and cried for the next 2 hours. I finally sent him home around 10:00pm to get some sleep. Loneliness and pure terror set in fast and I couldn't bare to be away from him, so I called on the phone and we talked all night. The following morning, as promised, the doctors and nurses packed me up in an ambulance and I was transported to a much larger hospital. Once I arrived I was quickly set up into "infectious disease." Heavy antibiotics were a-flowing. Every inch of the place was an upgrade. Once I was left alone, my thoughts flooded my mind. I tried to start figuring out how I was going to survive this travesty, pay my bills and most importantly- who was going to help take care of my five cats??? Fu*k. Fu*k. Fu*k. The doctors tell me that they are not certain how I contracted this infection. I hadn't been out of the country, nor had I undergone any dental surgery which could have welcomed the bacteria. Well that's zero help. Endocarditis. My possible kryptonite... The next few days I mentally took a bubble bath in my shock. I was trying to wrap my mind around spending the next 2 months in the hospital BEFORE undergoing open heart surgery. I became introverted, not wanting to Facebook my drama, or even text friends. I felt a strange numbness take over me, and honestly decided that I would make the best of it. I had multiple medical procedures and I did my very best to make the doctors laugh and tell them about my cats, of course. Looking back, I was nervous as all hell. I even neglected to press charges on a customer from my old job who consistently showed up UNINVITED into my hospital room. Stalker much? The hospital ended up having to put a password on my room, before all deliveries, calls and visitors were allowed in. Not to be all, "poor me" but seriously dude, just sooo not the time for a creepy creeperson. On the bright side, my mother who hadn't contacted me in over a year at this point, did text me twice- to ask if the doctors were giving me enough antibiotics. (She's no doctor, so her "medical concern" was hilarious) I had to fight the urge to sarcastically reply, "Antibiotics? Good idea! Thank Gawd you texted me when you did, the doctors hadn't thought of that!" But, I was sweet as a blueberry muffin. By the way, those were the first and last two texts that I heard from her. (Now, 3 years later she has never even once contacted me. Not. One. Single. Time.) Ahh, a mother's love. Ha. Friday, October 31st- Another day, another dollar. Ha, juuust kidding, it's another day full of tests and procedures. I was taken upstairs for an internal ultrasound/view of my heart. Basically, they knock you out and gently push a scope down your throat. This technique gets them extremely close to your heart for an excellent read in cardiac patients. So, after my test was done they woke me up... ohemgee, what medicine did they give me?! I saw a giant dippy egg with bacon, a 5 foot tall cat, a cow standing on its hind legs and a MINION. This. Was. Amazing. I later learned, as the anestethics wore off, It. Was. Also. Halloween. doh. 4 days into my stay at the hotel, I mean hospital, it was getting harder and harder to breathe (Maroon5?). It felt as though I had a gorilla sitting on my chest. I would get spells where it became so difficult to inhale, the nurses would come rushing in my room, rip my gown off, hook me up to oxygen and inject my IV with morphine until I could take a deep breath. I apologize to any and all of my visitors who showed up at the wrong time- and had to witness this. Sorry? You're welcome? (I now know, I was having a difficult time breathing because I was internally bleeding. Shame on you.) It was Saturday, November 1st around 7pm and I was watching Despicable Me for the +/-30th time. Hey- a free cable movie channel is a free movie channel, no matter the circumstance. Not only that, but Minions were making me unbelievably happy. My friends will vouch for me, I never even liked cartoons. (Well, except for Nickelodeon cartoons. #TommyPickles.) Perhaps it was providing a 90 minute escape for me, maybe it was appealing to the crying little girl inside of me- I don't know, but it helped fill a void, and I'm still grateful for Gru. Anyhow, while I was embracing the yellow and eating gummy bears (Albanese- my Dad ordered specially from Indiana) my future heart surgeon popped his angelic head in. I offered him gummy bears- even the red ones; he said that it looked like I was right on track as much as I could be and to just relax and they would take care of me at the hospital. He said to get comfortable because I would be there 8 weeks before the surgery. So around 10 weeks total. Well, ok,*sighs* it could be worse, it sounds like I can, "simmer dawn naw." WRONG. Five minutes pass and my surgeon comes back. He said that he checked my latest blood levels and my oxygen was far too low, I would reqire surgery in the next 12 hours or be dead before Thanksgiving. I felt all of the blood rush out of my upper body. Next, a cardiac nurse came into my room and gave me the choice of a Pig Valve or a Mechanical Valve, to be implanted into my heart to relace the damaged Mitral Valve. (Being vegeterian at the time, I thought this was incredible irony.) She weighed out the pros and cons for me as to which valve to choose. All I really remember hearing was that the Pig Valve had to be replaced every 10 years, and being so young that would demand atleast 5 more open heart surgeries in my lifetime. So, I thought it was a simple choice. Mechanical valve = forever vs. 10 year Pig Valve: I went for the mechanical valve. Then I had to do something much harder, call my Dad. It was incredibly difficult to dial my Dads telephone number. I knew that I was about to ruin any type of peace he was able to salvage for the evening, he would soon be as devestated as me, this still felt surreal. I felt selfish and heart broken having this kind of power over my fathers emotions. He answered on the first ring, as usual. My being so immensly ill had really been taking it's toll on him, emotionally, physically and spiritually. His little girl being so sick, and he could do nothing to fix me. Little did he know, HE was the reason that I wanted to be fixed. I cared more about him having to deal with my death, than I did my own life. There was no way in hell that I was going to let my Dad bury me. I would NEVER be responsible for putting him through that pain. Back to the phone call, my Dad answered cheerfully (for my benefit of course) and asked how I was feeling. I would say that, that is the very moment when my tears started falling, I couldnt catch my breath, but finally slobbered out that the heart surgeon had just been in my room and that I would be having surgery at 7:00am. I could hear him choking back the tears as he told me that this would get me home to Eddie-Cat faster. My Dad, always the optimist, and I stayed on the phone for the next 6 hours. We cried, talked about old times, (I also crammed food down my throat until midnight) and finally we decided that I was going to get through this. It cant be my "time." One tiny detail that I failed to mention before was that I was given a 37% chance of surviving. I sat alone in my hospital bed and wrote goodbye letters to my friends and a few chosen family members. Was I really doing this? Possibly saying GOODBYE to my life? Was I going to be dead in just a few short hours? It upset me that I might never see Eddie cat again. Who would explain to him that I didnt leave him by choice? That I died because of an infection. That I was so so sorry, and that I tried my best. All 5 of my cats, nobody was ever going to love them like me. I couldnt entertain the thought of losing my kids- I made a vow to save them forever when they were rescued, and now I was disappearing from their lives forever. This was all too much. I was sick to my stomach as I stared at the clock, counting down the seconds until my Dad, twin brother and friend were scheduled to arrive. Sadly, my twin brother never showed up. He never even called to wish me luck and it absolutely shattered my heart into a million pieces. I wanted to see my womb-mate so badly. I knew that we were no longer close but my soul really ached to be hugged with his arms. It really destroyed my feelings, but I did not have the time to dwell on it- it was 5:00am I had to start getting scrubbed down for surgery. I still felt fairly numb, more worried about seeming alright to try and ease my Dads horror. I was nervously joking around and begging the nurses for morsels of food. Then the dark cloud came. It was time. TIME FOR OPEN HEART SURGERY. Two nurses from transport and a doctor wheeled me down to the surgery floor, my Dad was walking next to me- I refused to let go of his hand. I was wheeled into a very well lit, curtained, waiting area. The operating room was empty. It was just myself and all of the nurses and doctors, no other patients. I later learned that Sunday mornings are reserved for emergencies. Look at me V.I.P. well, they made me feel that way anyhow. The nurses were exceptional- as they had been so far my entire stay. I was really blessed with the most amazing care. I mean, up until this point I would beg to estimate that the nursing staff had spent around 8 hours listening to me ramble on about my cats. I was a few minutes away from open heart surgery and I was getting make-up tips from one of the surgical nurses... well until the surgeon had to spoil my ignorance and walk in. He said they were ready for me and it would only be 2 or 3 minutes longer. Boom. That's when I turned into a two year old who needed her Daddy. He couldnt hold back his tears, and nor could I. I was wailing uncontrollably, telling my Dad how much I loved him. The fear was real. Very real. Almost indescribable to have to face the possibility of DEATH. This could be the very last time that I ever see my Dad. I was going into this obscenely serious surgery with horrendous odds. Who was I to think that I would survive fate? I had all but pulled my Dad into my hospital bed at this point. I just couldnt say goodbye. I wanted him to just hold me and make it all go away. But it was time. I held my Dads hands one last time and as they wheeled me down the hall, I yelled to him that I loved him and would see him soon. I secretly prayed that the next time he saw me, he would not be looking down at me, dead on a cold, steel table. I was given a sedative, and apparently it worked because shortly after I found myself complimenting everyone on "how nice they were," next I told my surgeon, "Don't let me die, I have my Dad and cus' nobody wants 5 cats." My doctors and all of the nurses did their very best to try and reassure me that I would wake up. A clear rubber mask was placed over my nose/mouth and I started slowly counting back from 100 (trying to enjoy the drug induced high and fight the anesthetics at the same time), and for the next 8 hours, my life was resting solely in the hands of this "Dream Team" surgical team. As you may have guessed already, I SURVIVED! It turned out that my heart was in much worse shape than previously expected, so not only did they have to replace my mitral valve but my aortic valve was covered in vegetation and needed to be scraped off. The doctor said that after seeing my heart, I would not have lived 2 more weeks without this procedure. I'm pretty fuzzy as to the timeline for the next few events. I recall waking up in a very bright room with lots of doctors around me. It was horrifying because the breathing tube was still down my throat, yet I felt like I was suffocating. In a complete panic I was trying to talk with my eyes, and scream to the nurses, "I can't breath!!" They must have read my mind because next thing I know, the nurse is leaning over my face telling me to relax. She said that the equiptment was breathing for me and that I just had to- annnnnnnnd I passed out. I woke up again, I guesstimate about 5 hours later. I was in a different room this time. It had a tiny little observation deck in it for a nurse to sit and, well, observe. I'm still with a breathing tube, but I'm a bit calmer this time. I can see all of the tubes coming out of my stomach, and I can see my chest raise up and down- with zero assistance from me. I didn't feel well. I was sick to my stomach and frightened. I was aware that my health was improving dramatically, but being alone and awake with my thoughts was extremely sad. The nurse came in to check my vitals, fluid loss, urine out-put etc. and realized that my body temperature was low. Especically for someone who just had major surgery. So, she covered me in what I remember to look like a space blanket. You know, those thin silver on one side, blue on the other ones? Think back to space field trips. Anyhow, it didn't take long until I was exceptionally warm. Then I began to sweat, next was the anxiety. I felt like I was cooking alive under this blanket, but nobody was around to tell. Even if they were, I had a breathing tube down my throat and was unable to speak properly. Fifteen minutes passed- no nurse. Tears were just continuously rolling down the side of my face. Thirty minutes passed- no nurse, it was beginning to feel like an eternity. At forty minutes I passed out for a few minutes and I woke up to the nurses taking the blanket off of me. Thank you Jesus! Praise The Lord! Once I cooled off, that was it for me it was lights out until the next morning. Rise and shine! No rest for the weary. The beautiful nurses had me up bright and early to remove my breathing tube. Hallelujah. Although I will admit it was not that easy to take my first unassisted breath, but I did it and in no time I was back to inhaling and exhaling with my own free will. Ill hold my breath if I want to damn it! A parade of white coats for the next 2 hours. I was avoiding looking at the 6 1/2 inch scar down the center of my chest. (and the scar from the pacemaker) I was still uneasy knowing that they had to break my sternum and WIRE it back together. After a brief unscheduled siesta, a young red haired man entered my room. He explained that he was there to remove my chest tubes and I basically told him that I accepted his challenge. Are you joking? Long, bumpy, blue, rubber tubes are INSIDE of my body and he's here to "pull them out?!" Insert gag and vomit here. Nope. Nope. Nope. Clearly he had dealt with trouble makers like me before, because his sweet talking game was on point. He said he would remove both tubes at once, and I would feel minimal discomfort. Ok, Prince Harry, let's go. He started by counting me down from 3. Try #1: 3...2... and I would interject, "No no no no no nope no no no no." Try #2 : 3...2... "No, no, nope, no thats enough no no no." After a pretty serious pep talk involving either living with the tubes forever VS. dealing with 3 seconds of slip and slide- I took a few deep breaths and decided this was gonna happen. Ok, this was it... Try #3: 3...2...1... and this freckled God pulled the tubes from my abdomen and quickly plugged the holes up with gauze to stop my bleeding. It felt exactly like you would imagine. As if he had gripped up my large intestine, and just pulled! I felt no pain, but it was the creepiest sensation having the bumps from the 2 feet of rubber being yanked inch by inch through your insides. Bucket list: Check! They really dont waste any time at the hospital. It was only the day after surgery, or the next day,(again still foggy) and the nurses were getting ready to have me sit up out of bed, in a chair. This sounded like a miserable suggestion. I verbally detested as much as possible, claiming that I felt sick to my belly and especially light headed. I was quickly assured that both symptoms were normal, but that I had nothing in my stomach to throw up. As she and the tech were trying not to pull IV's out of my arms and neck, I told them again that I was going to throw up. It really was like IV Jenga. Move this, not that, move this wire, not that etc. I was seated upright! My chest burned like nobodys business and woops, I made good on my promise to vomit. Note to all readers, If you ever have open heart surgery- DO NOT VOMIT! The pain in my sternum was enough to make me vomit again. Ugh. Part of me felt accomplished. I mean I HAD told them that I wanted to puke.. nobody listened.. hehe. Leslie- 1. It's the small victories. On a quest to still discover where this deadly infection originated, the doctors had me scheduled to be transported to an oral surgeon 3 days after surgery. Doped up just the right amount to deal with the situation, I was moved from the ambulance stretcher to the dentists chair. In no time at all, I was prepped to have my tooth removed and examined to see if this little bastard was the cause of my saga. Unfortunately, the tooth was fine and was not the root of my illness. Then, on the way back I tried to bribe the ambulance drivers to stop for donuts. Fail. **constant edits and updates being made, my story is far from over.. Please check back often, like it's your horoscope**

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