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I am alive, yes. I am also returning to work part-time. Does this make me happy? I don't know. Am I excited? Definitely not. The things I worry most about now are the facts that my bone isn't growing at all, and now I have to purchase some medical equipment called a bone stimulator that the FDA approves only for one time use, meaning this could be a risky investment if the bone decides not to grow at all, and also because I'm still in a lot of pain every moment of every day.

It has taken weeks to get the authorization forms from my doctor, and today I was finally able to get a copy of them and take them to my workplace. It has been almost 5 months since I've stepped foot in there and seen almost anyone from there. It made me extremely lightheaded and nervous. And now, I have to wait for word back from my department manager as to what schedule I will be working with my limited hours and days.

In the meantime, I'm silently freaking out that all this surgery has turned my brains to mush. I deal with this on a daily basis. All the medicine, all the pain, all the depression and loneliness, not just over the last few months but over the last few years, has left me incoherent, forgetful, and inconsistent. All of these things I am NOT KNOWN FOR. It's highly aggravating to say the least.

Talking about brain mush here, let me just say that aside from insensitivity or overwhelming me to the point of wanting to scream at you to leave me the [expletive of choice] alone... people that are impatient with my slow brain are seriously driving me bonkers. Yes, I mix things up. Yes, I forget things. Yes, I say things backwards. Yes, I cannot find the right verbiage with which to respond or just speak. It leaves me devastated that I know how intelligent I am, and people are treating me like I'm a foreigner who can't speak English, or like I'm not a bright person and that I have to be spoken to as if a child.

So, going back into an environment where I'm a big team player and a mentor makes me really dejected. People will be people and they'll continue to bug the ever loving piss out of me, but I'll have more than those small potatoes to deal w with. What if I can't remember to do my job? What if I can't cut it, and I just end up fired? It's all scary. I have to listen to my husband on one end telling me that (okay, not exactly his choice of words, I'm paraphrasing) I'm crazy and to stop being crazy. He doesn't think it's a big deal. Well. I just happen to be the primary bread winner during the majority of the calendar year, so yeas I must worry! I must worry that he's at school 4-6 hours a day, and then has another 4-6 hours of homework, and has to work part time, and has a band he practices with twice a week, and that's not bringing home the bacon needed to pay my medical bills, rent,  groceries, utilities, and our car. Granted, this is the last year we'll have to do this and believe me when I say I'm not letting him decide to go back to school in the middle of his life again while I'm stuck at the helm of this cruise ship dubbed doom ship. On the other hand, I have the people who are like "you're excited to go back to work aren't you?" or "it's so nice to have you back," which are BOTH designed to spear me through the heart and make me feel guilty for having a serious medical condition that put them out.

I love my job, don't get me wrong. I really do. I'm good at it, I enjoy it, and I feel like I make a difference ... most days. But I feel no one understands. Maybe the lady I know on my team who has cancer and was out for a few months for treatment might be able to somewhat understand, though she telecommutes so she's not around the people all the time.

 So I guess this is the point where I say I'm a downer all the time, and I worry all the time. That's my life. I can't change who I am. These things affect me 24/7. Kienbock's is a disease; it's not like a virus where it will just go away. Most days are tough. Most days I have to grit my teeth and pray that I make it through. It's not an easy life. Being on disability has not been easy either. It's been a trial in itself.

I don't know if you can comprehend my ramblings here, but if I don't get them out of my head, they poison my thoughts and my heart. It's better to unload them raw onto an invisible realm where people can sit around and judge how ridiculous I'm being. Right?