I’m copying and pasting the intro to part three because it’s what I want to say and I don’t feel like re-wording it.  So.

I’m not sure when you’re reading this and I don’t feel like looking up dates so just take a look at the date published and do the math.  This is part three of what had become a very long and detailed few weeks of my life.  I’ve been terrified since I wrote it (all in one night, not realizing it’s length, because of the aftermath this may bring.  You know what I did?  I took a Xanex, said “Fuck it” and started writing, as exhibited by all of these words). If you’re new to this, here’s the link to Part One.  On to the story.

I Facebooked my whole journey that you have to read from the beginning so reference the above paragraph.  I sat in my bed for three full days drinking Gatorade’s G2, who I now credit with saving my life, and pissed like a racehorse.  Have you ever seen a racehorse pee?  I have, and while I don’t have a schlong like that, I sure as shit pissed like them.  EVERY. TWENTY. MINUTES.

I should have stock in Gatorade.  Take note of that.

What my doctor did was look at the results of the blood work drawn, take me off the icky pill and put me on a new pill (note: I’m still on the main awesome pill so I’m not like crazy hatchet woman, it was more like postpartum depression-ish).

So this has been the past four days.

Day one: I lay in bed, happily socializing and drinking my G2, walking to the potty every 20 minutes.  I was still in a terrible shock from the event that occurred and couldn’t go on any other website except for Facebook.  My daddy’s on there and makes me feel better.  I made it through the basics like email checks and comment stuff but I had to call in dead for the Wii Mommies radio show (which was AWESOME, by the way).

Day one night: I think I OD’d it on the G2 because once my sleepy pills put me to sleep, I’m asleep.  People, I’ve told a handful of close friends this and now I’m going to tell you because I’m telling you everything else.  I fucking pissed the bed.  I was dreaming about peeing, and I did.  It woke me up enough to finish it off in the potty but I didn’t have the strength nor smarts to get help so I just went and slept on the other side of the bed (yes, I sleep alone).   What happens next?  I piss the OTHER side of the bed hours later.  Now this is just fucking ridiculous .  At this point, I have no choice but to sleep at the bottom of the bed.

I’m kidding, geez!  I should have, though.  It’d been funny.  I stripped the sheets off so very grateful that I use mattress protectors and then played on the computer until the wee (I wee’d a lot) hours of the morning when the house was up and running and I was able to get a new set of sheets and pee cover.  I also made a request for depends.  I got ‘em.   I wore ‘em and I’m actually a little sad I didn’t pee in ‘em.

Side note:  This is gross, but I started some fucked up trend of taking pictures when I have to pee in a cup and some people said since this was a medical thing I was obligated to, so I did.  It’s in the pee folder on Facebook.  Yeah.

Day Two: I start shaking.  One second I’m fine.  Then one hand goes balls-out.  Then it’s fine.  The only place I can be is Facebook, although I threw Twitter some love.  Facebook is more personal to me and I have a very strong support system (dad) on there and Facebook has been with me through so many things, I wasn’t going to stop here.  I’d type and poke (a whole other story I’ll tell soon) and then I’d shake.  It didn’t hurt, I just shook.  Only from the waist up.  My neck and back muscles are still killing me.

Day Three: Yesterday.  Yesterday, I don’t know what I was.  I was sick of the shaking and I wanted it to be over.  I just slept.  Well, I tried to.  It’s hard to sleep when you have to wake to pee every 20 minutes.  At one point in the afternoon, I fell into a deep, deep sleep.  I wish I never did.  Have you ever had a nightmare so dark and so vivid that it stays with you forever?  I did.  I remember every detail and it’s amazing how a dream can change the way a person thinks. Granted, it’s only been a day and I pray it leaves me but my Lord, I can’t even describe it.  I did everything possible to stay awake.  The good news was that I was still peeing but peeing less frequently and the shaking was barely noticeable.

Day Four is in the process of ending.  I feel completely different.  The old med is just about out (I can still feel the tremor in the hand but don’t have to type and use the backspace button so often) and the new super awesome med is on it’s way in (I’m no longer 10 second Tom).  My issue today is that I’m stuck in the middle.  I don’t know how to describe it.  The one that hurt me is gone, but it left it’s mark on me and I’m still reeling from that.  The new medication is more of a stimulant, which will help streamline my mind and re-introduce the world to the Julie who rocked harder than this one does.

But for today, I’m stuck in the middle.  Neither are working.  By tomorrow, the bad should be completely gone and the good will hopefully be doing it’s job, with my mega-patch hopefully making me 32 instead of 52 but for today, I’m here.  With you.  Hoping to God you won’t make me feel like shit for telling you this.

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