Oh hi PTSD, why don't you come on in

Here we go.  When last I left you I felt I had nothing more to give.  Blogging was something that stressed me out and I was living a very low stress life.  Things at home were great, we were almost like a normal family and our issues were the same small issues everyone has.  Work was looking up, I was seriously considering taking a job that would require more of a commitment from me, maybe even start using my brain at work.  We were floating along as happy as could be when suddenly, at the end of August, it happened.

I don’t even know what “it” was really.  Something happened and we went from actually going out and enjoying a concert together to the next week with him in the back of an ambulance and me following behind driving like a crazy woman.  Panic attacks were the diagnosis.  Lots of them, so bad that he convulsed and had to be taken to the hospital because the convulsing and shallow breathing could bring about seizures.  We’ve been dealing with his TBI symptoms that we had ignored the fact that he has PTSD too.

What we’ve learned since this all started is that PTSD and anxiety are major assholes and will likely pick a time when you are happy to remind you that they are there and want to run the show.

Looking back we both know it wasn’t quite as “suddenly” as it appeared.  Will had been getting sick for months, throwing up every morning and every night.  Unable to eat most foods he was living on vegetable soup and green tea.  As any man would he ignored it, thought he must have had a bug or something.  Going to the VA to testing seemed worse than his symptoms.  He quickly lost over 30lbs, he looked malnourished and had very little energy.  But he tried, we still went on date nights and he played with the girls as much as he could but something was off.  Mid July his sleep was no longer restful and dreams of horrible images of what he saw and dealt with in Iraq started.  Then the dreams started to include me and the girls…it was too much for him to talk about so he kept it to himself.

Anxiety and all things PTSD related don’t just go away.  You can’t just wish it not to be so and *poof* it’s gone.  We should have listened to the early signs. 

Shoulda, coulda, woulda.

From the ambulance to the hospital and back home all in one day and now our lives are forever changed.  It was after this that we learned just how useless VA healthcare is.  When they would return his call or deem him sick enough to get an appointment hey didn’t know how to treat him.  I wont get into all the details now but he was sent away numerous times with no treatment at all.  He was expected to drive all over Massachusetts to doctors who are impossible to contact and are so overworked that finding out what is causing your physical symptoms is just too time consuming.  He was on Prednisone for over 2 months for an unknown (maybe) allergy.  I think we all know the VA loves to throw pills at problems.

One of the best moves we made was contacting The Home Base Program which is run by The Red Sox Foundation to help post 9/11 vets deal with PTSD & TBI.  They have been wonderful; doctors who listen can genuinely care about how he’s doing, how I am doing.  Although they are strictly mental health they paid for him to have labs done at Mass General Hospital to try to do what the VA wouldn’t.  Unfortunately, we still don’t know what is physically wrong with him we have wonderful people working to help with the PTSD.  I will talk more about this program in later updates, I'm sure!

Since all this has happened I have kind of been a mess.  I am surprised with how quickly I was able to detach myself from all of this and process very little emotion with everything.  I had a big cry when I made that first 911 call and 2 full on sob fests since (one at work and one in my car) but that’s it.  It’s not that I don’t want to feel sad about what’s going on, I just don’t have time to be sad.  Life didn’t stop because Will got sick.  TC still started kindergarten last fall, Addie is still waking up to poop at six AM daily and needs help with that.  I still have a full time job that I need to get to so that we don’t deplete all of our hard earned savings.  Mouths need to be fed, snuggles need to be given, laundry needs to be washed.  For the last several months it’s all been on my shoulders.  If he did have to leave the house I had to drive him.  I’ve swallowed my pride and become a paid caregiver through the VA, I should start seeing that money next month.

Work has been great about all of this.  My time off beyond my 80 hours vacation isn’t paid but my job is safe thanks to FMLA which gives 1000 hours to care for a vet.  But working less than 20 hours a week some weeks has really hit me in the savings account.  It sucks, but thank God we had that savings account.  Now there is even more pressure on me to be at work because I am carrying the health insurance.  One of the benefits to serving is that you are supposed to have healthcare for life, HA!  On New Year’s Eve we counted down the seconds not to 2016 but to Jan 1^st because when that clock struck midnight he was covered under real health insurance.   

This is where we are now.  I may or may not elaborate on some of this stuff.  If you have an questions please ask – I am very open to talking about as much as I can without violating too much of his privacy.  I feel like stories like ours need to be out there, people need to know what is going on with our combat vets.

Tales From Home

I still hate working and Will still thinks he’s under qualified to stay at home with the kids but we are making the most of this unique situation that we find ourselves in.  We take full advantage of Facebook messages, I can vent to him when I feel like I am going to punch the next person I see and he keeps me updated of the shenanigans that the girls are getting into.

I love seeing their little faces in my inbox but some days it’s like a dagger through the heart.  I am equally happy for him and jealous of him, it’s a frustrating thing.  But I would never want the updates from home to stop.   Now that the weather has finally tuned they are outside most afternoons.  TC plays a game where our yard has several habitats and she goes around rescuing the wounded animals.  Having worked in a few hospitals Will knew exactly what they needed, a board.  So he brought out the easel and they were able to keep track of all of their patients (it’s not hard to lose track imaginary animals!).

This is a game they played with a tennis ball; they were just rolling it down the walk trying to not let it hit the grass.  Fun silly games that they make up and giggle and squeal, I can’t be there but at least I get to see some of it. 

The other day it was cold and rainy so he made them an office to play ABC Mouse in.  TC is convinced that she wants to come and work with me so this made her feel like in a small way she was.  Not that I have an office, but she doesn’t have to know that! 

I still dream of a part time job that would allow me to have the best of both worlds but until all those stars align I will take my little updates from the home front.  Thanks to everything our family has been thorough Will has been given a gift, time with his daughters.  I wish all fathers had this opportunity, he is creating a bond with them that will be like no other.

My "Getup"

On second thought it’s not OK.  How do you like that?  It is not OK to comment on how I look at work.  Yesterday it was the dude basically saying I looked like shit by saying I looked like a Monday and today it was one of the shop guys saying my dress was “quite the getup”.  I can’t win.

My office is casual, we can wear jeans and sneakers if we want.  I took full advantage of that all winter wearing jeans and boots almost exclusively for a few months.  Now that we are warming up I am ready to start dressing more like myself and myself likes to wear dresses.  Dresses are great; you don’t have to think hard about getting dressed, there is nothing to match and the best part, NO PANTS!  Toss on a dress and you’re done.  Also, as the receptionist I am the face of the company, I do my best to represent it as best as I can and being a bit more dressed up than someone cutting metal all day helps.

I am not saying I dress to necessarily impress at work but I wear what I am comfortable wearing.  This is my dress today, pretty modest really (sorry it’s blurry but I didn’t think I would even be using this picture).

I have about 20 dresses that I will be wearing all summer all pretty similar to this in terms of length and some may even (gasp) be sleeveless!   Am I going to have to worry about hearing comments every time I come to work? 

It’s one thing to say “nice dress” or “I like that tie” or whatever but “quite the getup” has a different,  sexy, tone to it.  At first I blew it off because he’s from the shop and they talk back there like they talk in a sports bar but I wasn’t in the shop, I was at my desk doing my job.  For a moment he made me feel bad about myself and doubt myself and that’s not OK.  

I know I am being a little dramatic, this isn’t even something that warrants a note to HR – if it happens more than yes, of course, but right now it’s just something that made me feel like shit.  After yesterday being made to feel so ugly and then today being made to feel like some kind of temptress I just don’t even know anymore.  But I know that it doesn’t matter if he works in the shop, delivers or rugs or runs the whole damn place it’s not alright to make comments to me about how I’m dressed just because I’m a woman.  It is never OK.

I Look Like Monday?

This morning the Cintas guy who swaps our out dirty rugs and warehouse uniforms for clean ones saw me at my desk and proclaimed  “Looks like you’re having a Monday!”.  Ouch.  I admit, my hair isn’t done, I pulled it up and hoped to hide the bit of conditioner I left in there from Sunday morning’s deep conditioning.  My sweater is a little old but not the dingiest thing I have seen in the office today.   I have bags under my eyes as I haven’t been able to sleep well this past week, sleeping next to someone with a TBI can be a bit of a challenge.  I did put on makeup and even curled my eyelashes in an attempt to look put together but apparently it failed. 

I had every intention of washing and blowing out my hair this morning.  I was down stairs and heading for the shower when a little voice came up behind me.  This little voice was that of my very proud 3 year old who does things on her own schedule.  She woke up dry and ready to use the potty.  I was beyond happy for her, I knew she could do it but she just needed to confidence to try.  So instead of getting in the shower and readying myself for the day I made French toast per the request of the little girl in dry Olaf undies. 

I wasn’t home the first time she went #2 in the potty.  I miss all the mid-morning dace offs (a tradition I started, for the record).  I am not the keeper of the peanut butter at lunch time but I was the one to hug her and celebrate with her on her fist successful attempt of a diaperless night.  If that kid wanted French toast you bet your ass she was getting it and maybe that left me with no time to be the dressed up version of myself that I usually am at work but I don’t care.  You may think I look like a Monday but I feel like a Friday afternoon.  It was a big morning at our house and I was there to celebrate. 

The Joys of Underemployment - Really

I have a secret to tell you, I like being underemployed.  I know, I know this is against everything that I am supposed to believe, everything I was taught at that fancy private business college but it’s the truth.  I get to work around 7:50 every day and, quite literally, the moment that clock hits five I am the first one out the door.  I am the Speedy Gonzales of punching out and shutting down.

I am a receptionist.  I have the same job that I had just out of college.  I answer phones, I e-file documents, I take care of the mail.  This is what I was hired to do.  There are a few other jobs that I have taken on to fill my day, things that wouldn’t normally be trusted to “just a receptionist” and I’m glad for them but it’s still not rocket science.   There are a few things I won’t do, I won’t get your coffee, I won’t  file your work so you can spend the afternoon chatting in the kitchen, (unless your name is on the building)I won’t screen your calls – a girls has to have her limits.

When looking for a job after leaving the hellish field of life insurance sales I applied for anything and everything.  I just wanted to work, needed to work.  I sent my resume to my current employer after reading the posting and thinking “I can do that in my sleep” and didn’t expect to hear back because I am so over qualified.  When they called the next day I took the interview, with a 5 year employment gap beggars can’t be choosers.   A good amount of the interview was about my (over) qualifications and I was honest with them:  “As long as I’m busy I will welcome a low stress job.”  And that’s what I have – I could stand to be a little busier though.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not running around with “Proud Receptionist” stickers on my cars – when someone I graduated college with asks what I’m doing now I am pretty embarrassed to admit that if we worked together I would be getting their calls.  I have to remember that their lives look nothing like mine.  I glad that they don’t have the stress of a wounded warrior – even when things are going well it’s a weight I carry around always.  My employers here know all about him and have been great about the days I’ve had to go home and let him rest or go to immediate VA appointments.   When I leave work I LEAVE work, I don’t bring things home, I don’t stay awake thinking about phone calls I transferred to the wrong person – none of that.  

There are some disadvantages to being the front desk girl, the biggest is that I am constantly talked down to.  I am not an idiot, don't treat my like one of your kids.  When people call I say the name of the company, several times a day someone responds with "Hello ABC Company this is..." hahaha, you were pretending like the place I work is my real name...so funny - no.  When I take my break someone sits at my desk.  Get away from my desk and no you may not reorganize it.  And finally the pay, it's not BMW type money but we don't need that, I am paid for what is expected of me so if I spend the afternoon reading a book I don't feel bad about it, I am not being paid to be busy every second of the day.

I still take pride in my work, I think when you are underemployed there is the chance of becoming complacent and sloppy, I’ve made a point to not let that happen.  I know I am not curing cancer but if I don’t do my job correctly no one in the office can get anything done.  I just had my review and my boss had nothing but good things to say about me which always feels nice.  Now, I don’t plan to be a receptionist for the rest of my working life, we are actually in the process of moving me to the sales team but it’s a long process.  I told my new boss that I hope the compensation of the new job is enough to make me want to add some work stress to my life because as of right now we are making ends meet while I am on a working vacation.  I’m excited to see what the next professional step will be but for now I am enjoying  getting paid to hang out and answer the phone every few minutes of so, and there isn’t a damn thing wrong with that.