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Friday, April 07, 2006

Depressed

I'm in a funk that I just can't seem to escape. I sure wish I could.

This reminds me of the day I was discharged from the hospital after I gave birth to Thomas. I was suffering from post partum depression badly. Lack of sleep, total strangers in and out of my room constantly looking at me and my incision, and the constant crying from Thomas had driven me over the edge.

I was breast feeding Thomas when the morning nurse headed into my room. She had chastised me about not eating breakfast. Trying to be polite, I told her I would eat my breakfast as soon as I was finished feeding Thomas. This didn't fly with her. She picked up a spoon, dipped it in my oatmeal, and held it out like she was going to feed me. I lost it.

"I'm 28 years old. I do believe that I am able to feed myself appropriately, I suggest you put that spoon back in the bowl," I was glaring at her.

"Honey, you've got to take care of yourself, I'm here to help," the spoon didn't waver.

I cried. I cried my eyes out because the stupid nurse would not leave me alone. The next thing I know she's hugging me and telling me I have post partum depression. I told her I had to get out of that hospital room or I was going to go insane. She assured me she was going to call in my doctor.

Not 30 seconds after she left my room the lactation consultant walked in. I cringed, on the multiple visits I'd had with her, I was forced to show her my bare chest every time. In fact, after the second visit, she was no longer referred to as 'The Lactation Consultant' by me anymore, I now referred to her as 'The Nipple Lady'. It was on that second visit that she had informed me of my unique nipple condition. (Apparently there are genetically different types of nipples out there, and, while they all look very similar to each other, there are slight differences. Mine are different from each other. I can't believe I just exposed this in a blog entry. Ugh!)

Needless to say, when my husband called me on the phone that morning, I was crying on the shoulders of The Nipple Lady telling her I needed to go home. Within 20 minutes he was at the hospital. Red flags flew up everywhere as I was telling him about how I had cried on her shoulders.

The morning nurse had been true to her words. By the time my husband arrived Dr. Wilcox had just shown up for my examination, he wasn't due to check on me until the following day. Believe it or not, he did allow me to be released from the hospital, and I did end up checking myself out at 6:00 that evening.

I would not have survived another day.

4 Comments:

Blogger Big Mama said...

Here's my shoulder. BUT you can't call me the "Nipple Lady" LOL!!! Maybe a nice martini and putting your feet up will make you feel better. Here, I'll give you a hug....

((((((Sherri)))))))

There, do you feel any better yet? Keep your chin up, we all still love you.

12:43 PM  
Blogger Sherri Sanders said...

thanks big mama, I could soooooo use a margarita and a sunny tropical beach at the moment!

ben b*, phew! load off my mind.... I'm glad to hear tonight is going to be just fine. :)

3:45 PM  
Blogger DaMasta said...

omg, how crazy was that nurse. holy cow. i would have lost it too. frickin people all in your business. trying to feed you?!?! fark that.

5:43 PM  
Blogger TrĂ©e said...

Chili peppers. What you say, no carrots? We'll get to the carrots later. When depressed, eat three, four or five chili peppers. Eat them fast, which is to say eat them fast enough where you can eat four or five before you really know what you've done. Trust me on this. In short order, the last thing on your mind will be anything to do with being depressed. You may think you are an idiot but you won't be depressed. Now, you will be in a world of hurt but keep in mind, you won't be depressed.

Or, we could just try some carrot therapy. Still got that cottontail?

9:18 PM  

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