Coral’s Healing Room at Coralsblog.com 505-269-9242 iwritetohealmyself@gmail.com I rise early. I go to bed early. If you need me, I will make myself available to you.

If ever there comes a day…(last one from the Coral vault and a hard read, as I was in a very dark place when I wrote this many months ago)

Last one from the drafts vault. I just needed to clear all of that out. As I am in the raging war with depression, I must pick my battles. I must change my thoughts. I must let go. I must let God. With my drafts folder empty, I begin again. As always, take what you need and leave all the rest. And we send it all back to the universe I be recycled for the greatest good of us all. And so it is. This is a dark read.

As I just published my last blog about carrying my Mom home and why didn’t she say goodbye…it occurred to me that I have a post to write…not to publish, but one that must be written.

I have come to know that time does run out. We have so many cliches, don’t we?  Time is a cliche…

I am sitting completely suspended in time…suspended animation, a state of bliss (thank you Pink Floyd for the amazing lyric and the memories that go with it). Or am I?

I feel pretty fucking suspended…in slow motion, timeless and weightless, pretty literally weightless these days and dropping.

Which brings me to this unpostable post. The post that will never leave you all saying…why didn’t Coral say goodbye?

I mean, here I am, every single day, invited into your life, honoring my daily commitment to myself, of writing for 365 days…and I know I could be really, really sick, and I don’t want to be that guy…you know, the one who knew and said nothing. Only in my case, I don’t “know”, I mean I don’t ever really “know”, and yet I know…In this case, I don’t know, and I’m getting checked out, as soon as they can see me, so don’t fret.

The thing is, I really don’t feel right. My ass, which don’t lie, you either stopped following me for, you started following me for, or you know absolutely nothing about. Consider yourself blessed if it’s the latter…truly, I’m a lot. Ask the people closest to me…I am a fucking handful.

Just to get you up to speed, I’m having some intense pain and discomfort in my ass. Nothing about that is easy for me to talk about, and so I’ve openly talked about it.

The physical and emotional pain of it all leaves me feeling nauseous and exhausted. I can’t sit and I can’t stand and I cannot do anything, except to lie down, semi-comfortably.

These things are concerning and isolated, I would probably still be really freaked out. Probably, my ass…I would be freaked the fuck out, about all things ass, always, especially my own ass.

In addition to all of that, I am having difficulty eating. I get really hungry,  like so hungry, and I eat a few bites and can’t eat anymore. A few moments later, I’m hungry again, and it’s the same thing, unless I’ve no appetite at all.

I have opted for no pain management of any kind, except for medical cannabis. I am desperate to find the right dosing for this intense and chronic pain. I know I need to feel this, and I mean really feel it, so that I can release it, and I mean really release it.

With that being said, cannabis, prior to this ass incident, was a huge appetite stimulant for me, like inessaciable, eat myself stupid, appetite, and now, at much higher doses, nothing.

Cramming brownies down my throat and trying to smoke enough and smile enough to keep the pain at bay. Trying not to WebMD and knowing my tendency, at times, to be dramatic…and feeling like I’m fucking dying…well, I guess I just thought maybe I should say something, you know? So I will never be “that guy”, or any guy for that matter….just to clear that up once and for all…I’m that girl, not that guy…

Anyway, I know myself and the irony of my life. Those of you who know me well will also appreciate the irony of the idea of…even just the thought or mention of…ass cancer, colon cancer, rectal cancer…and Coral in the same sentence. It’s the most fucked up thing I could possibly imagine…the fucking worst thing.

This is the girl who has literally driven to the next town to shit, because I can’t shit if you’re with in a mile radius. That may be a slight exaggeration, not much though.

My ass is an exit only. No salad tossing and no entry. My ass and all things about my ass horrify me and they always have and your ass horrifies me too. Truly, you’ve just no idea, unless you’ve an idea, and then you know that this would be the worst thing to take me out, that I could possibly imagine. My ass…really?

So, I’m sitting in this and trying to figure out how much to say and how much not to say. All you really have to do is look at me and I don’t have to say anything at all.

Tamara says that I look gaunt. I asked her what that meant and should I take it as a compliment. Tamara said that my face just looks drawn in…you know, gaunt. I didn’t know and so I just looked it up and the definition is pretty fucking eerie.

Gaunt;extremely thin and bony; haggard and drawn, as from great hunger, weariness, or torture; emaciated.

What do you know? Tamara is right. Gaunt is the perfect adjective to describe the shape I’m in, as of late, or is it as of most recent? Anyway, no matter.

So, being gaunt and unable to eat, nauseous from the constant pain and the horrific sensations down there, I won’t lie, I am a little more than a little concerned.

Oh and there is cancer all over both sides of my family, including my Mom, who died of Stage 4 breast cancer, with metastasis to the liver, the lungs and her brain. My Dad has skin cancer. That’s just the beginning of cancer in my family.

Oh and the fact that I have been drinking alcohol since near birth, until just over four years ago, smoking like a fucking train since I was eleven years old, until just over a year ago, and eaten whatever the fuck I wanted until going vegan four years ago. I’ve not been kind to my body.

In addition to me being unkind to my body, others have tortured and abused this body to a point of nearly, literally breaking it, over a lifetime.

It would not be any wonder if my liver and my lungs and my kidneys are riddled with disease too. Countless head injuries have undoubtedly taken their toll as well.

So, I would be remiss in not entertaining the idea that maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of the end. My ass might take me out after all. “Isn’t it ironic? Don’t you think? Yeah….I really do think…”

This will be the first of an unpublished series, of my deeply personal journey, through whatever ails my ass.

Did you really think that I would change after all of these years? I mean, I guess a lot of you did think I would change, hope I would change…this personal account is for those of you who loved me just the way I was…always, in all ways, without ever wanting me to change.

This is for Tamara. May she never have to ask, why I didn’t say good bye.

Tamara, may you also know that I am doing all I can to stay. I’m just writing this, in case there comes a day that I can’t.

If ever there is tomorrow when we’re not together… there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we’re apart… I’ll always be with you.
A.A. Milne-Winnie the Pooh

If ever there comes a time when I am unable, I want to have begun to try to get all of my words out…every single last one of them…

This shall be the first post of my private journey through this, which I hope I neve have to publish).

In the event that this did get published, and I am no longer here, go grab that cup of coffee and hey, grab me one too, would you?Also, don’t forget to remember…I am always right here, for our morning coffee. You just have to invite me and I will find a my way to find you. I know you know I will…

 

Who are you when you think no one is looking?

Happy early Sunday morning everyone! My girl comes home on this day and I am so excited! I am so happy that she got away and had some time with her family and I am so, so glad she is on her way home to us!

Also, I am so glad that you are here! My blog had been all over the place. I have been all over the place. I’m glad we came back together in the healing room this morning. For all of your love and all of your prayers…thank you. I love you and I pray for you too.

I want to write this morning about how we see one another. How do we see one another? Do we see the God within the person looking back at us? Do we see the God within ourselves peering back in the mirror at us? We are God. God is us. However you do or do not see God…G.O.D Good Orderly Direction (Thank you for that Tamara). God your Savior. It matters not, for We are all just walking each other home. My point is that when we look at one another, we reflect ourselves back. It does not matter who you are looking at…this is true. If you light up at the sight of me you are mirroring a part of yourself that lights you up. If you want to cut me when you see me, and not that that ever happens…you are also mirroring a part of yourself that I trigger in you that you are less than pleased with.

Do you not want me to be better? Do you not want better for me than to see me not being better than you know I have potential to be? Of course you do! The great news is that this means you want this for yourself on some level too. You want to be better than you are. You want to be integrity and to epitomize the reality that integrity is what we do when no one is looking. Let’s talk about integrity for a second, shall we? Recall in this instant the last thing that you saw that didn’t set well with you that you did something to make better? Maybe you picked up a piece of trash. Maybe you helped someone in need. And…maybe you didn’t. Only you know…no one else. Here’s the clincher though, and the one that you completely disregard every single time…YOU know better. YOU are disempowering yourself by not doing better. You…the God within you…your inner moral compass…no matter who you are or what you do…you know. You fucking know. And guess what? So does she. You think that you have fooled yourself and by doing so you have convinced yourself somehow that you have fooled her too. You have not fooled either one of you and you’ve made yourself a fool as the door hits you where the good Lord split you because she doesn’t want to be fooled anymore. You already know she’s gone…your intuition (that is God talking to you by the way) has already spoken. We feel it. We know it. We often don’t want to know and much of the time we don’t know how to know what we have come to know and we know just the same, don’t we? Integrity…that’s who each of us live with or without every single day. What we do when no one is watching is what defines us. If you want to lie to me, be my guest. If you think that by doing so you aren’t doing the most damage to you…I offer you these words…be the change. Tell the fucking truth. It’s easier for one thing because you don’t have to keep track of the lies you told. Most of all though…it’s all we really have. If we can’t trust each other…those closest to us in our very own beds and homes…we need to make some more healthy choices for ourselves, don’t we. If you do not respect me enough to tell me the absolute truth, then please don’t say it at all. Give me you and I will give you me. Those of you who know me well know I’ve done it backwards my whole life…I gave it and hoped you earned it…your trust. It’s your trust. You earn it and we can go from there. For those of you living in lies…for those of you lying…for those of you being lied to…Why? If it’s not true, it’s not real…if it’s not real…look at that and do something about it.

Many of us are consciously working twelve step programs. All of us are working twelve step programs whether we know it or not. If you want to two step your fucking life away, don’t do it on my watch. Not anymore. Be a good and decent human being. Be honest. Practice integrity in all things. Be of service. Go out there and DO it and stop trying to do it. Yoda says that “there is no try, only do.”Go out there and get it and stop fucking whining about not having it. Save the marriage that your pissing away by being unaccountable. Tell her the fucking truth…she already knows so be the person big enough to realize that and own your shit before she asks you again or calls you out again. Love him enough to let him go if he’s really not the one. Let him go find the one. We all deserve the one. Don’t hold on to the one whose not the one because you have not found the one…be a good and kind person. You know what is right and just. Go do that. Be of service. Do something every single day for someone who can never repay you. Most of all though, be honest with yourself. Gut wrenching and soul crushing work…and so worth it. Why would any of us ever want to be with anyone who made us a second choice to anyone else in the first place? Be it a bottle or another woman…another man or a dissatisfaction for the way things are…Why would we stay when they left when they stepped out in the first place? We have to love ourselves better before we can love anyone else better. Loving someone better is a verb. Whatever truth that you have held that came to you during this post…go share that truth with the person you have been lying to and set you both free. Be the change. Be love in action. Integrity…it does matter. What are you doing when you think no one is looking? If you don’t like your answer…get up of your ass and go change it! Have a beautiful Sunday everyone! I love you! Did I mention that my girl comes home today?!

With all of my heart, all of my love to Our six pack…

Good morning everyone. I actually made it to the healing room in the morning on this day! Hallelujah! Morning’s have been kicking me in my ass and so I know I must  wrestle this demon head on. Staying in bed, under the covers, in the darkness…some days, yes. Today, I decided to rise above the urge to stay buried, to sink back into the all consuming abyss. Stumble to the coffee maker and go potty the dogs… thank God for another glorious day to begin again.

Some days watching the dogs as they greet their world makes me feel that I also would like to be so excited, so content, so fucking happy, just to be. Instead on many days, I am a grouchy shit who wants them to stop this or that so I can do this or that. I find that pain Amps that up a bit…as I am more irritable. The dogs all love me just the same. They always have, even when and especially when I could not love me. I love mornings like this morning when I wake up okay to just be happy for them and for how happy they are. I love when I can step out of me enough to enjoy our dogs, especially Taos.

Taos has not had the easiest job being my service dog, and yet my heart belongs to Baby Taos in so many ways. Taos is my strength and my weakness and all that I fail at and all that I excel at. Taos is a mother fucking saint and I am so blessed to be her companion. I look forward to cooler weather and to being well again, so Taos and I can go FJ Crusin!  I love you Baby Taos the mouse.

I was Rocky’s heart and his therapist and he became my heart and my Service dog who needed a service people. Rocky, our little Okja butt…the happiest little boy in the whole world, with the very best outlook always. I love you my brave and faithful friend. You truly are the coolest little dude ever!

Prajna, also a client visit, best one ever, in which I brought my little soulmate home. I had no idea then, none at all, that Prajna was about to walk through Hell with me. I knew not that our four pound, one eyed wonder was about to teach me and give to me. Prajna came home with me on that day, having just been found walking the streets in heat, with her eye hanging from the socket. Never a moment since have we left each other’s side. Not when she cried in her sleep and searched for her missing eye, tearing with the other one. Not when I came home from surgery without pain management on board…not for a moment. I love you Prajna Mama, so, so much…my little kiss, kiss, kiss.

Aliah,  my boxer buddy whom I love so much, even though some days I have known so little how to show her…ghost face Ali…my teacher of life’s hard fucking lessons. I love you Aliah. Thank you for making me better. Thank you for your patience and for your waiting for me, no matter how long it took for me to see you for who the fuck you really, really are, instead of who I projected onto you. I love you Ali, so, so much! I hope we will be back to playing “boxer” again VERY soon my friend!

Nahko Bear and Mala Bear…what can I say? What a gift, truly. Watching you two romp and play and learn and grow. Feeling your puppy fur on my face and taking your fur into my lungs with every breath, just to be sure of you both. I feel natural with both of you, like I’ve always been walking right beside you, like I fit somehow, between the two baby bears. I have no words for how you have brightened my world in my hours of darkness and despair. Thank you ladies for teaching me to see all of our dogs in a new and innocent light that didn’t illuminate so bright before you two came along.

Our six pack. We could not be more blessed to have been rescued repeatedly by the most amazing dogs on the planet. We love you ladies and Rockadoodle, to the moon and back. Thank you for your patience with me as I learn and grown and heal and hurt and mend and come to peace and pace with each passing moment, as I learn to hear and honor your honor beat…as I learn to hear and monitor my own honor beat. Thank you.

Our dogs never leave us for someone better. Our dogs never stop loving us because we are too old or too sick or too ugly. Our dogs look at us always as though we are everything. We are their hero always and they are our biggest fan always.

People have not been so kind to me. People have found someone better, someone prettier and more financially stable… People change their minds and they take their hearts with them when they go, don’t they? Forget the wedding and the vows and fuck forever…who believes in forever anymore anyway? Honestly, who believes in honesty anymore? Monogamy? I believe in all of those things. I am living those things. I finally found a people that loves me like my dogs…unconditionally and for all that I am not, for all that I am…for all that I have been and for all that I am becoming. I am so thankful that I was paying attention and open enough to answer the door when this knock came. So many empty knocks before had this girl pretty shut down and happy as fuck to be alone. We definitely work at it, and it’s not always easy. Always worth it though, you bet your sweet ass it is…always worth it. I love you Tamara, more than I could ever possibly tell you. Thank you for allowing me my journey and for teaching me how to love our dogs and let our dogs love me in a way that I have never understood or been able to before. As I round another corner on this morning, I am so thankful to be loved so much, to be accepted right where I am at and for all that I am and even for what I am not.

I looked back on my life a lot during all of this illness, and I have reflected a lot. I have been a douche. I have been less than and taken more. I have been absent. I have been insensitive and intolerant. I have had high expectations that no one could possibly meet. I have been short-tempered. My dogs, for my whole life, have loved me just the same. Actually, they have loved me more. This blog is for our six pack and for the one that I had to let go to save…my soul dog Nicholas.

Nicky, wherever you are, I just pray that you found the best home ever. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss you. Not a day goes by that I don’t wonder where you are and wish you back here with me. I will never forget our final walk together, after my girlfriend had sexually assaulted you, and I had to give you up, to save us both. Writing that email and being so judged and hated for it, gathering your belongings and getting you in the truck on that day. I wanted to fucking die. I think a part of me did die. I am so sorry I didn’t know, and I am so sorry that when I did find out that I was so destroyed that I could not see straight. I contacted the one person who I knew would do right by you and that would be sure that you got the best home with the best family, maybe even her family. To this day, she hates me for surrendering you, and until a couple of days ago, that ate me up inside. I hated being hated so much, and then I had a moment, a peaceful moment, in which I was gently reminded that she surrendered us both and gave us both away when she chose someone else, didn’t she? We both got left behind and we were both destroyed over that, and we did our best. We did our best until someone very sick did something so bad that I couldn’t overcome it. You could have, Ive not doubt. I couldn’t and so I gave you up, to have an amazing life. So, I hope you know how deeply I love you and how much I miss you. I wasn’t the best dog Mom, and yet I was the best dog Mom that I knew how to be. My soul screams this morning and the tears roll down my face…I miss you Nicholas, and wherever you are, I pray you feel my love. I always feel your love my beautiful boy. Thank you for loving me when I was horribly unlovable. Thank you for never not loving me and for accepting me and for being my soulmate…my companion and my confidant…my best friend and my bed buddy when I would allow it. I miss you Nick and I love you with all of my very broken heart.

Yes, today’s blog is for the beautiful beings that love me no matter what, all of them. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I may not deserve the love that I get from our six pack, or from Nicholas or Max…I sure am thankful though, because I am learning  how to love and be loved by the dogs I journey beside and walk next to every single day. I am learning that I am lovable and that I am enough. I am learning just to be and I am so grateful.

Have a beautiful day everyone! I love you!

Corals medical nightmare…the saga continues…

Good evening! I thought I would try writing at the end of the day, instead of first thing in the morning. So, we will see how this feels. I will post this in the morning.

I am truly in a space where I am beyond being able to comprehend my own clusterfuck of a medical situation. Talking about it is almost surreal. You want to know what else it is? It is fucking traumatic as fuck.

Friday at my PCP appointment, while reviewing my post op film from RAA, my PCP says that my uterus is in tact in the film, dated July16th, 2018…that’s post op to June 5th, 2018 (my surgery date), right? I was afraid so. Is it an error at RAA? Is it another error from my clusterfuck of a surgery? I don’t know. I went for STAT imaging at XRANM on Friday afternoon. I called my doctor today (Monday) before noon and results are in and she will call me back, just not today I guess. So…we wait. Waiting on reimagining has delayed approval from my insurance because they need my pelvic ultrasound to approve an MRI and CT scan. The same scans we were waiting for me to heal from my surgery…to rule out cancer, you know because my Mom died of cancer with no fucking warning. To address pelvic pain, radiating pain that a colonoscopy couldn’t explain either. We now need imagining to look for infection and possibly foreign body…and possibly, even after a Robotic Hysterectomy LAPROSCOPIC BSO, my fucking uterus! Just finished my Bactrim yesterday, just Incase what? More blood drawn. More urine collected. I was given narcotics again, as a sober woman, over four years in recovery, to mask this pain. I know I don’t know how to navigate this perfectly, and yet, I know I’ve been clear..I need someone to help me stop this excruciating and ungodly fucking pain in my pelvic and posterior region. Not drugs….a solution so I can actually enjoy living my life in this body. Not a plethora of people who haven’t even fucking seen me at all. Jesus Fucking Christ….I am broken. I have already lived through fucking hell. I fucking made it, and I need you to help me to feel better. Problem is, because of what people have done to me, to my body, to my psyche…I can’t be treated like everyone else. I can’t do any of what you do without being unconscious. Please hear me…..I cannot. I did not say will not. I cannot tolerate your routine exams below my waist, because I have some fucking owies!!

Oh, hey Sam. Everyone, meet Sam again…my betrayed and striving to get better inner child. Sam..you know the 44 little girl you met in your office when you suggested I hop up into your stirrups, after you didn’t do the injections under anesthesia, that were to try to stop my pelvic pain. Remember you said, in front of your intern…”We can do those injections now, like the other 2 or 3 women I just did in office.” Do you remember me at all? Truly…have you seen or heard or felt me at all? You forgot to discharge me. In fact, you were in such a hurry that you never even took me out of surgery on the monitor in the OR waiting room. I know, as you have demonstrated, that you don’t care about me. What about the people who do care about me? I mean, did you care at all what they were going through out there, worrying about me? I know you left, so you didn’t know how I was. You still have never called me once. Tamara called you after my Tuesday surgery, at least three times to tell you that my pain was not being managed. Do you remember those calls? Maybe you remember the call on Friday afternoon when Tamara called you and said, something was very wrong, as my pain had not subsided at all, since Tuesday. We opened the fanny pack with the pain ball in it and Tamara asked you about that white clamp. Do you remember what you said? I was bracing myself on the sink at our bathroom counter when I heard you say something to the effect of, “Oh, I usually break those clamps off in surgery”…Usually? I’m sorry…what In the fucking fuck? This was not my lucky day was it? No…no indeed it was not my lucky day. I also recall you saying to turn it back on…Back on…it has never even been turned on, and let Coral catch back up, which we did. We did that until 2:00 am when the airplanes and bumblebees started invading my head, as I crashed my way to the bathroom to attempt my first post op BM. Oh wait…no that’s…wait…I can’t..too late…full on vomiting and my first BM…and I made it back to bed, and I laid back down for several more hours. I woke up barely fucking alive. Did you know that? I didn’t. I didn’t know that until my two week post op, when you told me I had overdosed. I, the sober woman with CPTSD, had just fucking overdosed, not once, but twice. My heart stopped somewhere in all of that. For about 15-16 hours or so, my pain ball, now turned on, was at 12, not at 4, where you put it post op. Who knew? We didn’t know. For all of those hours…and you still never called once. I have never heard from you or your office, not once. Not until an insurance form wasn’t signed…your mistake…we need you to backdate and sign this ASAP…and then your office called me, repeatedly. I still have not received the email I requested with that form so that I can review it. You scheduled my 8 week post op with someone else, even knowing about all of the complications at our two week post op appointment. When I realized that, the day prior to my appointment, I called to reschedule it with you personally.  That appointment was to be this Wednesday at 8:00 am, the only time your office could squeeze me in. Not at all convenient for me, and still, I made it work. What a surprise when I got a text and then email confirmation that confirmed my 10:00 am appointment. Wow! Really? So I called to cancel, and was placed on repeated hold and transferred repeatedly. I couldn’t just cancel. Three times, I called to cancel an appointment that I didn’t even make. I call back to cancel and you close at 4:30, so I was going to leave a message. You don’t accept messages, unless it’s an emergency. May I ask you, since none of this seemed to phase you at all, what would you consider emergent? Your office makes it nearly impossible to see you or to cancel…to do fucking anything. You’re like a fucking phantom.

I have a very serious question for you…Do you know that the first rule of medicine, same as in my profession as an LMT, is to do no harm? I saw you had a board certification, so silly me, I assumed that you knew at least that much about medicine. I didn’t read your reviews until today…that is ALL on me…3.9 out of 5…11 people rating you. Have you looked at the comments? Not good. I relate. Maybe I am the first to come forward and tell you this Doctor…you are doing harm. You are negligent. You demonstrate nothing that resembles care, compassion or concern. You have harmed me. All I wanted was to love you through it. Anyone who knows me knows that. I believe you have made that virtually impossible.

I am a human being. I have feelings. I fucking matter. My schedule matters. My family matters. My friends matter. My pain fucking matters. My heart matters. Sam matters. My trust being betrayed matters. My partner, who loves me with all of her heart, who is in this fucking shit storm with me matters. All of the beautiful beings that are my clients matter, whom I have not been able to see regularly because of all of these fucking complications…they matter. Our animals, all of them….my service dog Taos, she fucking matters. Obviously, not to you, do these things matter, as you have clearly demonstrated. To me though…these things matter.

I am at a loss, as my heart just will not let me begin to understand the absence of your own, in this hell I have been trying to navigate since I got out of your OR. I left your OR, with no pain management on board for hours, as I peed and screamed in pain. as I traveled up the mountain in a fucking Jeep and had to crawl into my house because my unmanaged pain would not allow me to climb the stairs.  You don’t care about me. You have not tried to help me to make all of this right. You last spoke to me at the end of my gurney, saying you would see me in the OR. You didn’t though, did you? You never saw me at all. You Doctor, have caused a great deal of harm. And the hits just keep on coming, don’t they? You not seeing me…Not considering me or honoring me….has caused quite a bit of pain and grief and heartbreak in my life. After 44 years of being afraid to address my female issues because of severe childhood continuing into adulthood sexual trauma, because I was repeatedly betrayed, not seen, not honored or considered at all….to have you treat me the same way….you missed the first rule in medicine…to do no harm. What about the golden rule…have you heard that one? It goes something like this…treat people the way you want people to treat you. Can I ask you honestly Doctor…do you ever want to be treated (more accurately) not treated, the way you that treated me? I don’t need your answer. That’s all you. I hope you can be honest with yourself though.

I regret, actually no I do not regret, not seeing you on Wednesday. I do not regret that I stood up for myself and allowed my time to matter. I regret that you failed to see me. I am sad that you still fail to see me. My wellness, my safety..my sainity and my healing…they depended heavily upon you seeing ME and treating ME. You failed to do that and now, I am in worse shape than when I went in to your OR. Does that concern you at all? I mean for a patient who trusted you, literally, with all that she had. A 44 year old woman came to you and trusted you with such a huge hurdle. Desperately wanting to be out of pelvic pain, she took a step that took her 44 years to come to, after She was sexually assaulted and abused and not considered, a hurdle she was ready to get past…This woman came to you, highly trusted and recommend. How could you to not care enough to see her at all? I wonder, does that bother you at all?

So… I guess it does feel better to finally get that out. Waiting to find out if I have a uterus or not is pretty fucking dehumanizing, in and of itself. Maybe this isn’t on you…maybe RAA can’t fucking see me either, even with all of that fancy equipment they have to see me. Odd, isn’t it? Being so fucking invisible…have you ever felt that way? My point is, with everything else that you didn’t see…it is possible, even probable that you didn’t do what you said you did. I have imaging that indicates that you left my uterus. Crazy huh? Except for everything else you didn’t do, gives possibility and probability to the reality that it could have happened. Something is very wrong. You don’t read my blog. This isn’t for you. I write to get it all out…all of it…without worrying  so much about how that makes anyone else feel or look. I can’t imagine that this one is one you….I mean even with everything that you didn’t do….at this moment, even I will give you a break and say that this is more likely a mistake at RAA. You certainly have not gone so far as to have left my uterus too, have you? I mean I went in for pelvic pain that you decided not to treat, offering no pain management after my surgery, to an overdose that could have ended my life, to this? Please tell me, for the love of us all, that you did not, on top of everything else, leave my uterus in tact.  Please tell me that there is no foreign body left inside of me…no gauze or instruments…no bottle caps or hate notes…Please tell me doctor that RAA made a clerical error. I’m going to go with that. Just so you know, I’ve been on your side the whole time….I have defended you and made excuses for you this whole time. When people say…”What the fuck?” I say something like this…maybe she had a fight with someone, maybe she was hungover, maybe still drunk? Maybe my pain and my story were just too much and it mirrored something for that poor woman…hell if I know…she is practicing medicine, like we all practice our crafts. I stand corrected though, I really do. I make no excuses for you and no apologies for you anymore. In practicing medicine, you didn’t even acknowledge the first rule, to do no harm. Further, in this entire process, you have not seen or heard or cared about me. You have not called me. You have re-scheduled me until I can’t show up to see YOU for my second post op. So I bid you farewell and I make no assumptions about or excuses for your actions and inactions. Am I upset? You bet your sweet ass I am. As I sit here, with tears rolling down my cheeks, wondering how I am going to advocate to get me well…I see your face so clearly. I wonder as I sit here in this heap, I wonder if you ever saw my face at all.

As always, I am here to get it all out. I am here to write to get it all out, rather than holding it all in. In addition to everything else, I’ve been holding this in. I release it now, back to the universe, to be recycled for the greater good of us all.

And this concludes Corals medical nightmare….the saga continues. Tomorrow’s episode…wait for it with me…”Where’s Corals Uterus?”, so stay tuned.

Keep your hands off of my ass!

Good morning everyone! Welcome to the healing room. Reading Ram Dass this morning and an article about a waitress being groped by a patron, and dropping his ass to the floor in a split second, I found my inspiration for this morning’s blog.

Ram Dass talks about spending time alone. He writes of souls hanging out together. Finding a healthy place of being alone, void of ego. I love Ram Dass! We don’t spend time alone, in nature. We don’t renew and rejuvenate enough. We are a hot fucking mess because many of us not know how to be alone in a good and healthy way. When we are in the company of others, we don’t have any fucking etiquette. We fail to consider those we walk amongst. Maybe if we spent more time with ourselves, we would be more able to be appropriate when we are in the company of others.

Emelia Holden has a story. Emelia is a 21 year old waitress in Savannah Georgia, who was sexually assaulted by Ryan Cherwenski. The video footage shows him grab her ass, and then she reacts in self defense and takes his ass to the ground. We live in a country where this is somehow tolerated and confined and even accepted. We live in a world where people blame her, because of how she was dressed. I don’t give a flying fuck if she was naked…you don’t fucking put your hands on other people! What gives anyone the right to, for their own satisfaction, to touch someone who didn’t invite them to? The answer is simple. Nothing. Nothing gives you the right to touch someone without an invitation.

I worked in restaurants and bars my whole life and I have been groped more times than I can even count. Even as a Licensed Massage Therapist, I have been in situations where I ended the session and terminated the client, for inappropriate sexual conduct. A neighbor tried to rape me a few years ago, on my own patio. My friend and I were having some cocktails and jamming our music. He came to the gate and we invited him in. I lived across the street from this guy for over 10 years. We would have a beer together in the street between our houses every now and again. This guy had a gorgeous wife and three beautiful kids. On this particular night, my friend went inside and when she did, he decided to take what he had always wanted. He unzipped his pants and grabbed my hand and stuck it down his pants…drunk and telling me how he had always wanted to do this. He restrained me and I broke free…and again, with my hand forced on his penis by his hand, and I fucking grabbed it and torqued the fuck down on it. I drug him, screaming and begging me to be quiet, so his wife wouldn’t hear and wake up. I twisted and pulled and I drug his ass all the way across the street to his driveway, by his penis, and I released. I think he dropped, grabbing himself and still in obvious pain. I turned around and went back to my patio. My friend was inside and I relayed what had just happened. I had to hold her back. I went and locked myself in my room with my dog Nicholas. There was a fear present that secluded and isolated me from everyone and everything for quite a while.

I only bring this story in because it illustrates my experience of being touched by someone I didn’t invite to touch me. Sitting here writing about it, all of those emotions flood back over me. I said no, repeatedly. I was clear that I meant no and still, he was going to take what he had always wanted. Over my dead body. I do not give one fuck who you think you are to anyone…you have no right to take things that do not belong to you. I do not give two fucks that you thought I wanted it. I very clearly did not ask you to take your Dick out of your pants and chase me with it and make me touch it, as you tried to ram it into me. I do not give red fucks or blue fucks….keep your hands to your fucking selves! I am crystal clear on this and I will tear your Dick off if you try to assault me with it. Am I overreacting? Am I just an angry dyke who doesn’t like Dick? Did I remember it all wrong and maybe I asked for it? Hell to the fucking no! Hell no, I didn’t ask for it. Chances are, neither did you.

We MUST stand up for what is right. We MUST stop allowing what is blatant sexual assault by labeling it something else. We must stop shaming and blaming the victims of these attacks and start standing up for one another. We MUST have a voice, a voice audible enough and clear enough, just as Emelia Holden did, to say NO!

We live in a place where people who perpetuate these atrocities often have more rights than the victims of these atrocities. Emelia was doing her job and some drunk entitled clown made a very clear and conscious decision to sexually assault her. In self defense, she disabled him so he couldn’t strike again. What else would you really expect someone to do? Truly…your hand is in my asshole, while I am ringing an order in to do my fucking job…I commend her for doing something. I applaud her, at 21 years old, to have clear and healthy boundaries.

I was at a bar a few weeks ago, when we hosted Honey LaBronx, The Vegan Drag Queen, and I witnessed someone I knew grabbing Honeys ass. I was appalled. Knowing that this individual was drunk and being playful…maybe…I do not claim to know why she did it. I just know how it made me feel and how it made Honey feel, as we talked about it on the way home. Honey indicated that people do that to her a lot. I imagine that they do. I am here to tell you, it is not okay to put your hands on another persons person, uninvited. Drag Queens are human beings with human rights. Honey is my friend and it hurt me to see her disrespected.

We MUST stand up for what is right, even if we are left standing all alone. I commend Emilia and I thank Ram Dass for my morning reflection and inspiration. I encourage each of you to keep your hands to yourselves. I think the golden rule is the very best gauge I have, in terms of how I treat people. I treat people the way I want people to treat me. Maybe that will help you to find your own gauge too…Treat people the way you want to be treated always.

Aiden update for those of you following. Aiden is still straining to pee and is going back to the specialist today. Please send Aiden and his family all of your love. Repeat after me…”I love you Aiden”. Prajna pooped and now it’s Aidens turn to pee. Go Aiden. Go Aiden. Go Aiden.

 

 

Post op update…

Good morning everyone. I hope you are having a beautiful Friday.

I am doing well and recovering nicely. Mostly, I just want to sleep and so I am trying to do that as much as possible.

I received the most beautiful flowers yesterday and I look at them and know how loved I am. I am blessed beyond measure for Tamara and so thankful that she has me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

My pain is manageable. I am in great spirits and following doctors orders. Pranja has taken her place on one side of me since I came home from the hospital. Taos is on the other side and I am being well cared for.

Everything looks good and is healing nicely. I am doing exactly as my discharge orders say and resting.

Thank you all for the love and prayers. I love you all right back. Off to nap with Pranja for a bit.

Checking in and back to bed…

Good morning everyone.  Looks like my blog is working again…hallelujah!

Thank you for all of the love and prayers and messages and phone calls. Yesterday was a tough day for me in terms of pain. I feel better this morning though. I am ready to go back to sleep and so I shall.

Pranja and Tamara and Taos are taking the best care of me and I feel better than I have in years…as long as I can remember, actually.

I love and appreciate each and every one of you and thank you for all of the love and prayers you are showering me in. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Today is the day…I’m off for my spay (Tuesday’s blog)

Good morning! My blog site is down for some reason and I cannot seem to figure it out. So, to honor my commitment to myself, to blog for 365 days, I will use this page. Thank you for being here, and happy Tuesday!

Today is the day…I have surgery this morning! I am looking forward to an end to this pain. All of the prayers and meditation to wrap all of these little packages up neatly, to send them on their way, back to the universe, to be recycled for the greater good of us all, is coming to a close this morning, as I gently pull the strings to tie all of the loose ends up. I take all of these neatly wrapped packages and even the tattered and not so well wrapped packages, and with all of my love, I place them in my uterus, awaiting their return to source.

I want to say thank you to every single person who has loved me through so much. I can feel you and I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for loving me. I want you to know that I love you right back.

This day, this spay surgery, this is my beginning. I have been strength training, literally, my whole life, in preparation for this moment…the moment I surrender, and let it all go. Today, I release all that no longer serves me and I say a little prayer of thanks for all of the lessons, for all of the blessings…I send them on their way in love and light, to continue to bless and teach our world.

We all have choices and we have all made bad ones, haven’t we? Our lives will show us…our bodies will remind us. We are the evidence of our struggles. We are the tapestries of our lives. We are human beings, being human…souls, having a temporary human experience…walking each other home. We are all in this together. I feel honored to be walking with all of you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I want to thank Tamara for being here, right next to me, during the very painful and difficult journey I have been on. I love you my girl and I thank you for seeing Sam and I and for loving us in through to the other side. What a giant leap i have been anticipating, as I leave this hurt behind me. All of these packs I have carried, sitting here for good this time, as I vow not to pick them back up. This day, a day like no other, the last day of my former life and the first day of my amazing new life…a day like I’ve never known…a day for me to do the deepest healing and purging and releasing of my entire life. As I go under anesthesia for my surgery today, I invite abundant and monumental healing and clarity. I open a place inside me to release all of the demons that found their way in, along the way, to leave now. I invite any of your demons to leave me now also. As there is an opening for exit, without resistance or barrier, I invite the release of, for once and for all, of this pain I have carried my entire life. Both in my physical and my mental and emotional bodies…please release the demons and the hurt of a lifetime. At this time, please also release the demons of others, who have knowingly or unknowingly entered me. All that I have, all that I am, all that I am and all that I have been…I offer up now, to be cleansed and purged and refurbished and made whole again. And so it is.

I hope you all have a beautiful day. I must go and prepare for my surgery, mentally and physically, and mostly spiritually…so that I am ready for the good things coming when I wake back up!

If you are so inclined, I ask you to pray for my healing today also, for your healing and for the healing of our entire world. As I go in to surgery today, I place your packages in my uterus too. If you hand them to me, I will place them in there next to mine, and we will send them on their way. Don’t worry, there is plenty of room for all of us. So, go get wrapping and bring me what you’ve got! Today is a magnificent day for all of our healing, isn’t it? I mean truly, today, we get to set it all down and let it all go. So, let’s all get busy purging and bring to the table, what no longer serves us, so that I may carry it out today and recycle it for the greater good of us all!

My surgery today is the beginning for us all, of all of the good things coming our way. I feel it and I know it in my heart! We are all headed for great things! So grab my hand and let’s get our packages. Meet me back here with them and we will send them on their way together. And so it is!

I love you. I really, really love you. I am praying for you today too. I pray for you every day. We’ve got this!