Bravery Is Complicated

It’s been really hard since Master Pravus injured his finger. Really really hard. He’s suffering a lot, but I can tell he’s trying to just handle it because there’s so much I just.. Can’t do? I mean, I can’t lift things. Not just “shouldn’t” but can’t lift them. I can’t spike a fluid bag. I am unable to do a lot. Sure, I don’t focus on that stuff, but sometimes it’s hard not to when Master Pravus can’t do it either.

A few days after my last post, Master Pravus got to the doctor, who managed to look at the wound and determined it was “very clean” looking at the very least. But, that it should have had a couple stitches. >.< Oof. I did my best with what I had where I was at the time. Regardless, Master Pravus is doing better now, but not completely. I can’t imagine how long his finger will take to heal, but a while I am sure.

I’m having a really hard time lately. I’m suffering from complications of the surgery as well as having serious problems with my port. My last access took nine sticks, and a friend tried too… And guess what? That was completely fucked. It was like shooting in the dark because why? Because Master Pravus called Bard, the company that makes my port, and according to the reference number that was on file: I was implanted with the wrong type of port. The type of port that I was implanted with you need to have an ultrasound in order to access… Or else just be very, very lucky. The only reason “we” (OK, I) noticed, was because we were all alone in the house and when I tried to feel for the bumps I was crying and said “But I can’t feel anything!” And I mean.. I couldn’t. I pointed out to Master Pravus a few other times that I couldn’t feel anything either and he had said he would look more thoroughly later. Something about “They’re there, but subtle, I think?” Which. I don’t blame him, really. We were told there were palpation bumps. But when you’re about to stab yourself in the chest at an awkward angle with a needle that is almost an inch long. Yeah. You want to be sure. I was never sure, and eventually I got it. And now I’m just… Well. Frankly, I’m terrified of my next de-access. We’re going to have to re-do this and my supply company will send only three needles at a time. They’re being completely beastly.

This has put me in a place that isn’t the most emotionally wonderful. I need another surgery now, because of this, and as it is I have already had to put off my surgery to have my battery fixed on my Enterra device. This is literally awful. I’m so nauseous and now I need more surgery. I’m afraid, and I don’t know what else I need to deal with because I have to have more surgery to fix up my port. And. Something is terribly wrong around the surgery site I had my hernia fixed up at. It’s… Swollen in a way that none of my past surgeries have been swollen before. I tried to have the surgeon look at it at my post-op but of course he did not. 🙁 Not one peek. At all. And the swelling is spreading now so I have to go see my GP. Of course. He did mention in passing. “Have your GP scan it and if it it needs surgery, I’ll do that, but I don’t diagnose problems. I’m a surgeon.” Um. Whatever assface. >.> Think you could. Like. DO your job? But whatever. So now I need to wait until my doctor sees me on Monday and no position is comfortable and this has only gotten worse since then and in the last few days it has gotten worse still. >.>

I was near tears about it recently. Just sat on the couch, where I have literally been sleeping and doing the majority of my resting (I get up and move around, but I don’t sleep upstairs and haven’t been able to lie down in bed in a while) since about this post. I have been trying so hard to get back in bed. But I’m still not ready, and I miss it terribly bad. While I was sitting there, sad, near tears, I reached out and took Master Pravus’ hand and I held it.

“Master. I just. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, and he was very careful how he asked this, so that I could tell that he wasn’t being flippant, and he cared.

“I mean. I can’t get comfortable. I’m so tired. I’m exhausted. It. It reminds me of before. But I’m not even better yet. It’s like. It’s like the surgery kind of..? Something isn’t right?” I tried.

“I know. We’re going to figure it out.”

“I know we will. But.”

There was a pause. I didn’t wanna say it again.

“I’m running out of brave,” I admitted.

“Kitty,” he said very gently, “Do you remember that new thing you learned about being brave? That your Dragon said? That you can’t be brave unless you’re scared?”

I nodded.

“Bravery.. You have to remember. It’s complex. There’s more to it than that.”

I looked at him, slowly. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what the next part about being brave entailed.

“Kitty. It’s true that you can’t be brave unless you’re scared. But, being brave is a thing you do for all of us. The people who love you,” he said, talking to me as though I was five.

I, with tears in my eyes, looked at him not comprehending what he was saying still. He didn’t break eye contact though.

“It means, that we can all tell that you’re scared,” he tried, even more soft, like when he talks to a pet (but then again I am his pet).

I finally comprehended this next unfair layer of bravery. I started ugly crying.

“Ugh I’m sick of bravery,” I said in a moment of pure exasperation.

“Kitty, you don’t have to be brave all the time. You don’t have to. It’s okay,” Master said lovingly.

I knew what was behind bravery though, it’s fear. And I knew that because as Master Pravus points out so poignantly, everyone else can see my fear too.

“I’m tired of that too!” I said even more exasperatedly.

“I know,” Kitty, he told me, “But we’re going to get through it.”

And he’s right. And after I was done crying it out I felt a little bit better. I really did.

I made several calls for more appointments to people who can actually solve the things that are not getting fixed and I have plans to fix things. But the problem is: that I’m not comfortable. Not really. I’m bothering poor Master Pravus several times a day to try to help me get comfortable and there seems no end to the fidgeting of the blankets and comforters and plushies. It’s pretty awful. I just want it to get better. I try, if I can, to go outside and walk just a very little bit next to the house and smell the wildflowers everyday. I can’t always. I thought I would be further along since my surgery, but I’ll get there, one step at a time. Still, right now the lilac is coming along. It’s in bloom for a very short window, so I try to go look when I can, it always cheers me up a little.