I Love the Yukon!

Unemployed again, and heading to the Yukon! The job that runs June-December is not yet posted. I would like to get it, as it is perfect with my desire to be back in Ghana around the end of the year. If Megs comes though, I will have a problem, but we will work out all those details when they are facts not speculations. I am so excited to have this chance to go to the Yukon again! I didn’t think it was possible, but I messed up timelines everywhere, when really, everything was perfect! Amber will be here tomorrow evening, and on Wednesday, after I get my stitches out, we are heading north! I will hopefully see Leatha and her girls! And I finally get to see the changes done to the restaurant! I get to talk to Amber for a long time, without any boys in our ways (although, we will be talking about boys…), and I don’t have to sit on my ass here in town all week, doing nothing. However, I have spent the last three days lounging in the sunshine, and I won’t complain about that, but the sun is not expected to shine all week, and I have no other plans! When I thought the Yukon wasn’t possible, I was going to head to Travis’s parents and see Nathaniel and them, but it turns out he had the same plan as me, so that plan was quickly ex-nayed! It is his parents after all, not mine. But it turns out, the Yukon is where I was meant to go! Tomorrow will be a busy day. I have to talk to CIBC about my bank account there (they are doing foolish things!), I have a lunch date, I have counseling, and I have to meet Amber and pack!

I get my stitches out on Wednesday (as previously mentioned). The nurse will take them out, and will have a preliminary diagnosis for me. However, Dr. Galliford will not have a full diagnosis or plan (if there is such a thing) until 6 more weeks down the road. Frustrating? Yes. But it is the same old story. We will do this test, wait 6 weeks. It’s ok, wait 6 months. Oh, you need to see a specialist: wait 6 weeks. Test again: 6 weeks for results. Cauterize, have all the symptoms backwards, wait 6 weeks. Everything ok, wait 6 months. It’s a story I know well. Yes, I am still nervous, but I won’t stress out until the week before… and I will know what to expect after Wednesday’s appointment. Mom is coming with me, in case the news is bad. Then we will know if she needs to come with me for the real appointment as well.

The doctor told me to expect a period after the operation. I have not had a period, but I have had more spotting than normal. That is frustrating as well – this is to see why I spot not cause more! I thought it was getting better, but last night it got worse again (Of course right?) But it is just spotting, which I am sure is better than a full out period! I knew that I bought a million panty liners by mistake for a reason – I haven’t run out yet! I do however, have to find where the rest are packed, as I am almost done this box. Lame. One more thing to do. Good thing I am a bum.

Just wanted to update anyone who reads about my life before I head north. I am not sure that I will have cell service, but I might. I guess you will find out what the good Doc has to say when I am back online next! And my computer is going away tomorrow – Travis is coming to pick it up tonight – he has talked his roommate into fixing it for me…

After

So, I survived surgery.

It was a long day though! I worked from 8-11 (having had no food since 10 pm Tuesday night), showed up at the hospital on time, and waited another 2 hours in my sexy gown before they moved me into the almost ready room. Here, my doctor (who I am sad to say I didn't recognize, as I have not seen him in two years....) popped his head in and asked if it was the same story. I said pretty much. Oh, things have changed - it is no longer predictable, it's whenever it feels like, but all in all, the same old story. He left. The anesthesiologist came by, told me all the side effects that could happen to me, and went on his merry way. It is now between 2 and 3 pm - they took me away from the clock and bad daytime tv. Have I mentioned that I am starving? My stomach is growling, my head is pounding from lack of... anything. My OR nurse arrives, gives me some warm blankets to hold (they will cover me during surgery) and we march down the hall to OR 10. She insists on introducing me to everyone in the room - meanwhile, I have already forgotten both her name and the anesthesiologist's names. I strip down and lay upon the operating bed. I think I much prefer to be knocked out before you get there! How is it that I found the courage to willingly lie down upon a bed for them to cut me open!? The good doctor can't find my veins. He says veins often hide as soon as they reach the OR. He jabs me once (it hurts more than having blood taken when it's in your hand). Well, I found a vein, he says, but it won't hold. So he stabs me again. (At this point, I would like you to know that his first jab is going to bruise, and it currently hurts to touch - but then, so does the knob on the side of my wrist where the IV thing was taped to me). That's about all I remember. Next thing I know, I am shivering violently (maybe almost seizure like?) and there are voices telling me that I am waking up from surgery. Thank goodness I don't have to know more! When they have piled enough warm blankets on me that my shivering stops, I start to realize the pain that is gripping my stomach. I tell the good nurse who is hovering around me that I hurt. She gets me some drugs. A little later (time was slipping away.... I was sure I didn't wake up until 5, but the nurse said I was due for more drugs around 8 pm, since I took them at 4....), she asked how I was feeling. I said I now had cramps (expected) and it hurt here and here. I was surprised to find two incision points. I thought I had been told that one went in my belly button (how creepy is that?) and that the other went up my va-jay-jay. Nope, apparently it went in just above the pubic line (if you don't like the descriptions, stop reading!). I looked at the nurse, offered a smile and said, I guess that's why it hurts. They stuck some drugs of some sort into my IV. I drifted for a while, I was still so tired. After a while, the nurse told me I had to roll onto my back, and she was going to bring me some juice. Soon after that, I got wheeled into the next room where I was offered a snack of cheese and crackers, was given more juice, and they called Mom to come get me. I was surprised that they didn't bring me my clothes back before Mom got there, but it was only when she arrived that they brought me a wash basin and my clothes. They were short staffed, maybe they were hoping that if I needed help, Mom could do it instead of them. So, we washed all the orange stuff off my body, and I struggled into my clothes. My chest was really hurting by now. They tell me it's because they blew me up like a balloon, so that they could see inside me. Eventually I would have a lot of gas, and I would feel better. After I was all dressed, they went over my post-op care again, and sent us on our merry way. Mom had brought up a wheelchair for me, and I was glad to not have to walk, even though I could have.

Once at home, Mom made me a bowl of soup (bless her!) and I checked my emails and went to bed. It was 6:30 when we left the hospital, and I was in bed before 8. I slept throughout the night, but never a deep sleep. Today, I got up around 8 and have been puttering. I am going to see Nickolas for a quiet visit at 11, and then heading to work. I have to wear a dress because there is no way I can wear pants with these incisions as they are, especially not when they are hurting too! So, I will shock the world who has never seen me in a dress. I was thinking I only had two, but I have a Ghana dress I can wear too! Oh good, three days of dresses before I have to repeat! Hopefully by then (since that will take me to Monday) the incisions won't be bugging me anymore. I have to call Doctor Galliford's office today, as I need him to take the stitches out in a week or so. I won't have any details on what he found until then either, as he didn't leave any specific instructions for me. I am still terrified of what they found. The fact that he didn't leave anything to follow up on makes me think that it is nothing. Therefore, I think I will just spot the rest of my life, and never have a reason for it. I don't like that option. But then, I don't like any of the options I can see.

So for now, I sit, with a little pain in my lower stomach, waiting for the gas to start to relieve my discomfort, although my chest is mostly back to feeling normal. And I contemplate getting dressed and going places today. I shaved my legs in the bathtub (since I am not allowed to shower yet), and my incisions didn't really like that movement.... I will have to be careful! If I was a smart individual, I would have shaved my legs yesterday, before surgery! But the thought didn't even cross my mind, until I was sitting in the waiting area in my hospital gown with hairy legs....

What if it it cancer? Why not now, they say it will be back in 10 years anyways - I am five down.
What if it is something else? that means more problems, more doctors appointments, more pain
What if it is nothing? Then everything I feel and see in my body has no cause.
If it is nothing, there is nothing I can do, ever.
If it is something, maybe we can fix it...
If it is Cancer, at least I have been down that road part way before.
I don't know which is worse, I don't know which I would prefer. I don't want any of these options. Why is there no just positive outcome possible?

Scared and lonely, I go through this alone.

Confessions

I have surgery in 3 days, and I am terrified. I want you by my side for it, despite all the pain I have felt. I am scared, and I want my best friend. I want you to comfort me, I want you to care. I want you to be there when I wake up. You are no where to be found, and all I want is you by my side. I am scared and you are my first thought.

But I will go without admitting my fears aloud. I will go probably without you knowing. I will go scared, but not let on. And I will wake up wanting you, but I will not tell anyone that.

Living a High

It’s been two weeks since I shaved my head for cancer, and I am loving the new look. It’s so easy to deal with. And, everyday, I feel good about myself. My hair is growing back in so quickly! I still get people with witty remarks, concerned looks and just plain stares, but I am proud of me. I feel as though I have been living off the high created that weekend since then, but maybe it was just what I needed to make some changes in my life. Travis is living with his girlfriend in Hixon, so he is no longer a part of my life. We barely chat. I still miss him desperately, but I almost feel it’s better this way. We can both heal this way, alone, without the other to cause more pain.
I have started to share my scrapbook around the college this week. People have been very pleased with the pictures they have seen. I talked to Jacob (a Prince George Ghanaian man) and he has agreed to take my scrapbook for the kids to them when he goes home next month. So, now I am on a deadline to get it done, and it is once again, reminding me of how much Ghana changed my life. I want to be back, and I don’t really want to come home. However, I still have not started to look into a way to make this my new life. My plan is to visit at Christmas, and have a plan around then! But, I will most likely be home after my visit. I would probably go for a month if I can swing it. Overseas is where I am meant to be though, so I am going to start working on it! Maybe even today. I have doubled my anti-depressants since I came home, and currently am feeling a little better. I am not sure it’s not because I am living off a Relay for Life High or because of the drugs – both happened about the same time. I find myself more able to think about things like a life overseas, but still unable to start the search. But with a deadline from Jacob, I am back into doing my scrapbooks and they still much be perfect! I cannot find the album I have in mind for my own scrapbook, but it is not on a deadline like the children’s, so it will still be perfect! My head keeps telling me that the one I am working on for the kids won’t last more than a week anyways, but I am creating it with so much love!

Despite the mostly positive in my life today, I still feel very negative. My scopes that were ordered two years ago, are happening on Wednesday. I am still terrified of what they hold in store. I am pretty sure that cancer will no longer be a threat, but something is wrong, and we will have to deal with something I am sure. It had been so long that I had just decided that this was the new normal. Now it is possible that it isn’t. And who knows what they will find. A part of me is still convinced that there is still cancer within me. A part of me knows that cervical cancer often comes back within ten years. It has been 4.5 since my biopsy. Ten years isn’t so far away now is it? I know it is a simple procedure, but I am scared. I don’t know what I will do if it is not good news. Think about how poorly I handled all of this five years ago… And then I think a little. Marc and I essentially broke up because of this procedure, because he was afraid of what it might mean for us, but didn’t want to talk to me about it. Now he is engaged and happy, and I haven’t moved too far away from this place. I was engaged, but it was a joke that I wasn’t in on. As I have for the last five years, I feel very alone in regards to this situation. I am scared, and I don’t know who to talk to about it, or what to do.

Reasons I Relay

On Saturday May 8, 2010, I shaved my head for cancer. This was slightly planned, but the bribery didn’t really follow through. I was hoping that people would donate to me if I did it. Instead, I was sitting at the Relay for Life, no donations, unsure I had enough hair for a wig and wanting to do it anyways. A friend told me that he would give me the minimum amount of donations I wanted because he didn’t like the other motivating factor of him shaving his head. So I did it. I was a little anxious, but now, I couldn’t be more proud. A young survivor (I think she is 13) helped inspire me. She didn’t tell me that having cancer changed her life. She didn’t tell me her horror story. Instead, she told me about the best gift she has ever received: her wig. Her wig made her normal, it stopped people from staring. Her wig encouraged her to continue to live as a normal child. Later, I found out that another child who shaved his head (he had over a foot of hair!) did it in part because of the same survivor. They had become friends and it wasn’t until she lifted her wig one day that he realized that his friend was a survivor. With Brooklyn’s story ringing in my ears, all doubt left my mind and my heart. I was giving my hair, the best and only true gift I can give to a cancer patient. Although I would have still liked to have raised more money for it, it no longer mattered. This gift was coming from me, from my heart and from my head, and it held the possibility to make someone’s life better. Not just a possibility, my hair held a guarantee that someone would get a wig and know that some person donated their hair for them. This thought continues to give me a warm, almost butterfly feeling, in my stomach. I can’t help but smile.

Today, I went to work for the first time with my bald head. I was a little apprehensive about what the reaction would be. I had received mostly positive responses from my friends and family who knew about the choice I had made. I walked into the office, a scarf around my head. The first question was “Did you shave your head?” With a smile and a “yes” I took off the scarf to show what I looked like now. I didn’t know we had a survivor in our midst. She gave me a hug and wiped a tear from her eye. She told me how she remembered losing all her hair during chemotherapy treatments, and how much my gesture meant even to her. I had expected to be encouraged to wear my scarf. Instead, I was encouraged to only wear the scarf if I wanted to. I was encouraged to show the world the statement I had made. I proudly wore my head bald throughout the day. All my boss had to say was “Where did your hair go?” When I responded with “Cancer Wigs” he congratulated me and carried on his way. I had some laughter; I had some jaw-dropping. But everyone was encouraging. I don’t know why I expected otherwise. I couldn’t have shaved my head for a better cause. One person did thank me for leaving stubble so that he knew I wasn’t sick, but generous. I don’t know how to ask for donations for it though. It has never been something I have been good at doing.

Have you ever met a cancer survivor or a cancer patient? Survivors are the most incredible people I have ever met. I have never heard a negative word about their situation. They are the most determined people out there. Survivors are strong and courageous, and determined to beat the disease that has infected their bodies. Currently, a woman I am proud to call “Mom” is undergoing chemotherapy. She tells me that she will beat it, because she has support of entire communities. She tells me she will beat it, because she has more living to do. She tells me that she will beat it, because her case is different from anything the doctors have ever seen. She tells me that the prayers she knows people are praying fill her with warmth every day. A Survivor speech at Relay for Life this year told me that as she sat in the room, receiving her chemotherapy, she heard a cheer go through the room; it was all the others that had ever had to sit where she was sitting, encouraging her to continue to fight. Relay for Life is a time when our community pulls together. I was there for the entire 24 hours this year. The track never had less than 100 people on it (I am sure there was more). There were people lining the track all night, cheering people on, offering encouragement. The community raised over $360 000 towards Cancer research and Patient care. That is incredible. But to me, the best part of the Relay for Life is being able to see the survivors and know that you are making a difference to them. You can also see that every person there has a story about how cancer has affected their lives. You know you are not alone in your grief or your prayers. You are never alone with the Canadian Cancer Society involved. That is an incredible feeling that grows inside you. On Friday night, I was exhausted and depressed. Life was going downhill fast. Today, after spending 24 invigorating hours at the Prince George Relay for Life, I still feel exhausted, but I feel empowered and not alone. I might have different issues than the other feet that walked the track, but somehow, we are all connected and no one is alone.

Every year, the Relay for Life inspires me yet again. Every year, I feel a stronger connection to the fight against cancer. When I was 21, my doctor found moderately cancerous cells on my cervix. We removed all of these cells during my biopsy, and so far, my yearly checks continue to come in clear of cancer. I am now four years cancer free. I do consider myself a survivor, but when I hear the stories of those that went through chemotherapy and surgeries, I feel unable to tell them that I too, am a survivor. I know I am, but I just feel so little compared to these incredible people. I relay so that no one else has to hear the three scariest words out there: “You have Cancer.” I relay for everyone who has heard those words. I relay for everyone who has had cancer, everyone who has had chemotherapy, everyone who has lost a fight against cancer, or knows someone who has. I relay, because I am a lucky survivor. I relay because I refuse to give up the fight against this disease. I am sure it is not “cancer” but rather “can-cure” and I relay so that that can happen. My team is always small, but we do all that we can to fight cancer and support and encourage those who have ever had to live with the disease. I relay because I care.

Inspired

Relay for Life 2010 is complete, although my fundraising efforts will continue. I am proud to say that I was at the event for the entire 24 hours, as the sole member of my team. Maybe I think that wrong, every member of my team did attend I was just the only one there for more than an hour at a time. A little disappointing in some aspects, a little lonely, but all and all, a great day. I walked the first hour by myself, then took lunch and a nap. Travis and I then went for some food and a visit before he left because he was sick. Mom came by and did an hour, leaving when the storm clouds threatened to actually break over the sunny Stadium (she did have other things to do as well). The weather however, continued to cooperate and I only felt a couple of rain drops hit me before the sun was out again. I watched the clouds circle the stadium all day, but I guess Mother Nature encouraged us to keep walking and keep up our fight against cancer. After Mom left, all the participants who were there took park in spelling “Fight” (as the theme this year for the event was ‘Fight Back’ against Cancer) on the grass for an overhead photo shot. I was proud to stand as part of the ‘H’.

And now… the head shaving… I had talked about it, but hadn’t got any donations, so I wasn’t going to do it. But as I sat there, watching boys shave their heads to make wigs, and little girls cut off their pony tail, it was becoming more something I needed to do. I was a little scared though… Jordan came by about then, but wouldn’t tell me to shave my head. What I really needed was someone to be like, Jenna, Just do it! Some little girls (one a survivor) caught wind of our conversation and encouraged me to shave my head. The Survivor told me that having cancer didn’t seem so bad once she got her wig – she felt normal again. She told me very seriously, that she would shave her head for a wig, but her hair was just starting to grow back, so she didn’t want to be bald again just yet. I tried to make Jordan shave his head with me, but he was having nothing to do with that. Turns out, I talked myself into doing it. I sat down, as the last participant who was going bald for cancer. I was ecstatic when I heard that my hair was long enough to donate to cancer! All of my hair has now been captured for a wig for a cancer patient! What an amazing feeling that is. Yes, I am bald, and my head might glow in the dark, but I helped a cancer patient be able to feel normal again because they no longer have to go around with no hair. I am one of them in spirit. I shaved my head for others, because it is about all I can do to really support them. Yes, I donate money, and I collect donations for the cause, but, to give my hair, that is giving a part of me and it is going directly to someone who will cherish it. They tried to tell me that I couldn’t give my hair for a wig because it had been treated. When I said that it was all natural colour, just enhanced by three months in Africa, they were all amazed. I caught a look that said “She’s nuts! Her hair is naturally amazing and she is shaving it??!” But I knew it was still the right thing for me to be doing. I texted everyone I had a number for and let them know that I was now bald. I thank each and every one of you for your supportive responses!

Survivors this year were given a yellow bandana that said “Survivor” down the side. I quickly realized that people confused my Relay for Life yellow bandana and my bald head as a sure sign that I was a survivor. I had many people ask me what kind of cancer I had. I had many people stop and give me support – not because I had shaved my head for the cause, but because I was a Survivor. In many ways, I am. I do consider myself to be a survivor. They did remove cancerous cells from my body during a biopsy. However, when mixed with people that endured the horrors of Chemotherapy, I cannot bring myself to tell them that I too, am a survivor. I guess I consider there to be levels of survivor-ship, and I fall on the lowest rung. But to me, I am a survivor. 4 years cancer free now!

Cold, I went to bed for a couple hours (I didn’t sleep though) so that I could warm up before midnight. It was also too dark (and cold) to read at the tent, and my feet hurt too much to walk anymore for now. I was toasty warm in my bed. I got out again just after 11 pm, to go and celebrate during the Midnight Luminary Remember Ceremony. Jenn, Syn, Lydia, Mary, Andrew, Sonja and Eric showed up to visit (I am sure they just didn’t believe the texts they had received saying that I was now bald for cancer). However, they were for the most part unprepared for the weather, so they didn’t stay long. Travis and I stood together, near tears, for the remember ceremony. We then walked the candle-light walk, took a picture of the Luminary I purchased for Marlene, and departed ways yet again: me to my tent and him to his bed. I didn’t sleep well; in fact, I was really cold in the night. However, I was back up by 7:30 munching on pancakes! I started to walk again around 8. I ran into an old friend while I was limping around (I have blisters on the bottoms of both feet) the track. It was nice to have company for the last hour or so! And, he was sweet enough to offer to help me take down my tent since I was alone for my team. I did tell him that I was supposed to have help for that, but I just hadn’t heard from anybody. I walked 60 laps that I remembered to click, and that didn’t count just walking back to the tent of anything. I am very proud of my accomplishments.

I know that I have been complaining about the world we live in. It is events such as the Relay for Life where the community pulls together that inspire me to keep trying. Prince George raised over $360 000 for this event, and money is still coming in! I have another garage sale that I will be having with all proceeds going back to Relay for Life (May 15^th! 8-4, 980 Jarvis St!). I am hoping that my bald head will inspire people to bring in some more money to support that I did it to help a cancer patient. I still have big plans. And I have big dreams that we will be able to eradicate cancer. Can you help?

Knocked back Down

Because it is too much to ask for the world to give me a break, life comes crashing down again tonight. My hypocritical ex-fiancé is showing all the reasons why he left me again, even though I thought I was doing better without him around. I can’t be in a relationship, or he will commit suicide. I cannot talk about other men, because it hurts him so. But he can post on Facebook that he is in a relationship with someone and not be bothered to tell me. Guess I really don’t matter. He even gave me attitude last week on the fact that I said it was getting less painful to not have him around. I guess everyone was right. I stand up for someone not worth standing up for. This hurts almost as much as everything else he has done for me, but with a little more kick to it.

My second-Mom is really sick. I am afraid I am going to lose her before I really have her. She has touched my life in more ways than I can count, and only in 9 months. But, her attitude is positive, so I will try to remain that way too. It’s hard though, especially when your attitude is not positive regarding anything. I pray for her all the time. The world still needs her. There are not enough people like her. Pray with me?

I came home from work today (worst day ever! I hate people with no work ethic, and of the people I could see, I was the only one working, at all), to a missed phone call. The surgery I was supposed to get two years ago, is now ready to be scheduled. Try as I might, it scares me. It means that it is not over, that it didn’t just go away. Sure, it’s good that I finally get it, but that also means that they could find things I don’t want to deal with anymore, things that I put as the past a couple of years ago. I am trying not to be worried, but I assumed that the doctor’s changed their minds. Originally, I was supposed to get it within two months of when it was ordered. I called four months in, and my name wasn’t on the list. So now, two years and two months later, here I am. I cannot handle the extra blow. I wish they hadn’t called. I was content with dealing with the issue; I have been dealing with it for almost five years now. But no. It bites me again.

I increased my anti-depressants for the last time on this pill. Next time, if this doesn’t help, we are on to try different drugs. I am going to have to go back to the beginning of counseling; this one can’t do enough for me. I think I will keep both though. I need all the help I can get. Especially if the worst is true.

Exhausted, I head off to Relay for Life, where yet again, I will not be talking to my best friend, for an event that I need a friend for.

Reasons to Care

I am getting worse by the day. I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know what to do. I tell myself that I can do this and that I can be better, but I only feel more worthless and helpless to my plight. I feel less able to make it through each day; more prone to tears. I wonder what I am doing and for what purpose. I slept the entire weekend, not even bothering to get dressed on Saturday (thank you for cancelling the yard sale Travis; I guess I needed that, and the stress level went way down because of that). Sunday, too, I slept late and went to bed early, finding myself almost falling asleep during the day. I find myself easily annoyed at everyone and everything. The second aggregation puts me into anger. I know it is silly, but I find myself unable to stop it. I am almost like my own counselor, I know what I should be doing, and I know how I could fix it. I tell myself these answers all the time. (Ok, they are not full answers, but the things I know I should do). The energy level they require is too high. I cannot make myself do it. I try so hard, but I cannot do it.

When I was 16, I had a friend in the hospital for attempted suicide. She was also a chronic liar. I know hate her for all she did to our friends. I will never do the same thing she did to those I love. That determination is the only thing holding my head above water. I feel less will to live than I have ever felt before. I could easily lie down and not move again. On Friday night, in a state of utter exhaustion, I was sitting on Travis’ front lawn. I could have laid down there and not moved until I was no longer so tired. He told me I had to go home. I told him that it didn’t matter whether I slept in a bed or right there on the lawn, two feet away from the curb. That is how much I care about anything. The only reason I am getting up in the morning is a hope that I can make it to Ghana at Christmas with Andrea. Yes. Ghana is still my only motivator. But I cannot force myself to look into ways to bring my career goal into focus. It takes too much time, too much energy to look into. I have dreamt about Baby Leah (surprisingly never my baby boy, who I miss so desperately) twice in the last week. Both times, she was in my care, both times I lost her. I wake up near tears. I miss her desperately, and feel an incredible loss when I fail her. And I do. I fail her in every dream. (Baby Leah is the only one I could justify taking home, because she is the only one I wouldn’t be holding back – but I am fast realizing that I cannot be a mother. Not right now, not like this, so… I guess that is good to know… I always knew it though; I just miss all my babies so much!) Ghana is the only reason I have to live right now though. I know I have good friends and amazing family, but I feel so alone. I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t have the energy or strength.

I prayed last night. I told God that I didn’t believe in Jesus, I didn’t believe he created the world in seven days. I believe in evolution. However, I do believe that there is a higher power out there. I believe in Guardian Angels. I have seen the work of higher powers in my life more than once. I believe in something: I may as well call him Zeus! In Ghana, my prayers were answered nightly – I am not sure how, but every day I work up feeling refreshed and able to accomplish any difficulty that was thrown our way. I felt strong, and I knew I was not alone. Last night, I begged for that to happen again. I begged for someone to help me, because I didn’t have the strength to continue to try. I begged for the feelings I felt in Ghana. I fell asleep still feeling empty. I woke up the same. But, I smiled at work today, and people noticed that I was a little better than last week. I am blaming everything on being tired, but I am sure it is much more. I just hope that I do not breakdown at the doctor’s office tomorrow, as I have to come right back to work. However, it might be best for me if I do….

I need help. I know I do. I don’t know what else to do. I fear I need to change counselors, as I fear I have developed beyond her capabilities. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to have to start again. It’s bad enough that I expect to be starting again on anti-depressants. I don’t want to start again on everything. But, I don’t know what I am supposed to do. I don’t know how to change anything. I am out of strength and out of energy. I am out of reasons to care.