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#actually it was from the same topic as that horrid stuff i posted last night but it was just the reynolds number which is fine
drlavenderpepper · 2 years
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I GOT AN A LET'S GOOOO
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A Son’s Destiny
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Pairings:  Jax Teller x Lena Daniels (OC), Jax Teller x Tara Knowles (past, mentioned), Jax Teller x Wendy Case (past)
Time Setting: Seasons 1-7
Warnings: DARK FIC fluff, angst, unprotected sex (wrap it, before you tap it, folks), pregnancy, miscarriage, insecurities, infidelity, canon SOA violence & gore, STRONG language, drug & alcohol use, lots of taking the LORD’s name in vain, mentions of racism, mentions of rape, and character deaths
Author’s Note: So, this is my first Sons of Anarchy story for those of you who are fans of the show. This fic is a Dark Fic.  It is set during the timeline of the entire series, but I’m not going full canon. There will be things that are actually what happened in the show, but with my own twist, and things that are not show canon. The narrative is set to fit the story itself. If you are a Tara Knowles fan, be warned, as this story may not be for you.  Also please HEED the warnings.  They are there for those get triggered by certain topics.  I will post another warning before each chapter to give a final warning.  Please if you want to be tagged just in time for first chapter, please hit up my ask.  I will gladly tag you all.
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Chapter 9
warnings:  character death, small suicide mention, angst
Donna Winston was dead.
When Jax got the message that his best friend's wife had been killed, he hadn't disclosed to Lena the full details, as he didn't know much himself, but she just hopped on the back of his bike anyway.
In a matter of just a few minutes, Jax pulled his bike up to the intersection near Main St where Opie's truck had been parked at the traffic light. Cop sirens and lights were causing a hue of blue and red flashes around the small crowd of neighbors that had formed, while a square of bright yellow caution tape had been centered around the crime scene keeping those nosy neighbors at bay.
Lena stood idly by, as Jax was the first to hop off of his bike, immediately rushing over to his best friend, who had desperately shoved his way past Charming PD and the caution tape. She could only watch with an immense ache in her heart the moment Opie dropped to his knees, cradling his wife's dead body in his arms, while sobbing uncontrollably.
Lena didn't know if it was from all the alcohol she'd consumed throughout the night or the sight of Donna Winston's bullet riddled body, but she instantly felt sick. She then turned away from Jax's bike and tossed everything that was in her stomach straight into the nearby bushes.
Once she regained herself, Lena turned back to the horrid scene before her. This stuff wasn't supposed to happen. Who could have done something this horrible?
Everything over the next several hours had seemed like it happened in the blink of an eye, and all Lena could do was stand by and watch it all happen.
Just like always in this town, rumors had quickly began to spread like a raging wildfire pertaining to Donna's death. The big rumor was that her death wasn't an accident. It was part of some form of retaliation by the Oakland gang, and part time SAMCRO enemy, the One-Niners. Although, no one understood why the 9ers would retaliate against Donna in the first place. At this time they currently had no beef with SAMCRO, and they all lived by the same oath: women and children were off limits.
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The next morning Lena found herself at the Winston residence, trying to help as much as she could with any necessary arrangements or even just offering her services to make sure that Opie and the kids were okay. Even though the small family had been completely distraught over this, as she knew they should have been.
As Lena was putting away the last of the clean dishes from this morning's untouched breakfast, she heard the front door open followed by seeing Jax now heading straight toward her in the kitchen. The moment they made eye contact, she immediately stopped in her tracks. Or she at least tried to make eye contact with him. Despite everything that happened with Donna, things were still very much strained between them. Last night when he'd dropped her off at home, they said nothing else to each other. There was literally nothing they could say at that moment.
"Hey," Jax was the first to break the uncomfortable silence, removing the black framed sunglasses from his face.
"Hey," Lena responded back, swallowing thickly. She could still barely look him in the eye. She knew if she did, she would break. And that was the last anybody needed right now.
Jax knew that she was trying to avoid him, and he couldn't say that he blamed her. Of course she was still pissed at him about the whole Tara situation. "How, um, how long've you been here?"
Lena shrugged, folding her arms across her chest, closing herself off from him. "A few hours, I think. I couldn't really sleep last night, so I caught a cab to pick up my car from the garage, and I came straight here. I just really wanted to be here to make sure that Opie and the kids were okay and to help out as much as I could."
"Lee," Jax exasperated, his heart breaking at the sight of her stance right now. He knew that Donna's death was hurting her but so was his betrayal.
Lena shook her head dismissively, looking down at her shuffling feet. "Jax, please don't. This is not the time to talk about us. Your best friend just lost his wife. That's who you need to focus on. You need to be there for him. Me and you," she hesitated for a moment, "we're not important —not right now."
Jax nodded, fixing the cap on his head. "Where is he?"
Lena tossed her head toward the backyard. "He's outside with the kids. Been there all morning."
Jax hesitated for a moment, before he slowly approached Lena. She could still barely look at him, and he felt her entire body clench the moment he entered her space. He didn't want to agitate the situation further, but that didn't stop him from leaning forward and pressed a kiss to her temple and then whispered in her ear, "you're always important." He gave her shoulders a quick squeeze, before heading toward the backyard.
Again Lena swallowed thickly, trying to keep the tears at bay as she just watched him walk away from her. She could feel her heart breaking with every step he took. As much as she wanted to run to comfort him, knowing that Jax was hurting for his best friend, Lena, herself, was still hurting from what happened between them before everything really fell to shit.
Jax had lied to her about everything that happened between him and Tara.
Jax slept with Tara.
Even just thinking about it, almost picturing it in her mind, caused a searing pain to burn through Lena's chest. She hated this. She really hated this.
Lena's first instinct was to bolt out of the Winston household to go drown her sorrows at the bottom of a whiskey bottle, like she had been doing a lot lately. Like she had seen her mother do for all those years prior to her suicide. But Lena did as best as she could to suppress all of that to the back of her mind. She needed to not think about it. At least not right now.
As Lena just told Jax, whatever bullshit that was going on between them was not important. But she knew that it was a matter of time when she and Jax would actually have to deal with the status of their relationship.
Just not today.
No, saying goodbye to a beautiful friend was top priority.
Now Lena and Donna wouldn't necessarily call themselves best friends, but over the years they had definitely grown close. They both attended the same high school together, but never really hung out in the same circles. While Donna hung out with the studious kids like Tara, Lena was finding it hard to make friends.
Lena was the new girl in town, and her only association was with the notorious motorcycle club, the Sons of Anarchy. Most of the girls in Charming either ignored Lena or tried to use her to get closer to Jax. The guys, on the other hand, either hated or feared the Sons.
It wasn't until after high school, when Donna finally began dating Opie, that she and Lena became fast friends. Lena had been Donna's maid of honor in the wedding, and her and Opie made Lena godmother to their two kids, Ellie and Kenny.
The day Opie was sentenced to five years in Chino, Donna began to distance herself from Lena and the club. Donna wanted nothing to do with SAMCRO and had blamed them for losing Opie. Lena completely understood why Donna had put their friendship on the back burner, but still reached out to the young mom whenever she could.
Now Lena was starting to feel guilty at the fact that she didn't spend as much time with Donna as she could when Donna was alive.
"Hey,"
Lena was broken out of her thoughts when she turned to see Opie's mother, Mary Winston, standing right behind her.
"Hey, Mary." Lena gave her a small, comforting smile. "I probably already know the answer to this, but how're feeling?"
Mary swallowed thickly, a somber look in her blue eyes, which scarily matched Opie's. "This is so heartbreaking. I'm hurting for my boy and my grandkids —especially them. They don't deserve this. She didn't deserve this." Her bottom lip trembled.
Lena instantly felt the tears springing forward in her own eyes. She knew she couldn't do anything about it, but she still wanted to make things better for this family. "I'm so sorry this happened, Mary." She then reached out to pull Opie's mother into a tight hug.
Mary released a deep breath, returning the gesture, squeezing Lena tight. "Thank you so much for being here, Lena. We really appreciate it."
Lena nodded, releasing herself from Mary's hold. "Anything you need, I'm here."
Mary gave Lena a watery smile, before reaching up to push a curly tendril of Lena's hair behind her ear, before resting her hand underneath Lena's jaw. Lena immediately understood what Mary was telling her just by the look in her eyes.
Mary was a young girl when she fell head over heels in love with Piney Winston, and they married fairly quickly. She soon found herself pregnant and living in complete regret. She stayed with Piney a few more years after Opie was born, but she had finally had enough of Piney's drinking and philandering. Mary had then taken Opie, packed their belongings, and left Charming behind. Of course, a strong desire to follow his father's footsteps and become a Son, Opie ended up returning, and that broke Mary's heart.
"So," Mary cleared her throat, walking over to the coffee pot to pour herself a cup of fresh brew, "I saw Jax coming in. How's that been going?"
Lena sighed heavily. She still did not want to have to deal with her and Jax's current situation today, but she knew that it would somehow come up. "It's," she began, trying to figure out what to say, "complicated, Mary."
Mary again nodded in understanding, taking a cautious sip from her mug. "It's always complicated when it comes to those Sons."
"Tell me about it." Lena muttered, folding her arms across her chest, while leaning her hip up against the counter.
Mary finished the rest of her coffee, before giving her full attention to the young woman standing sadly in front of her. Opie's mother noticed that Lena was looking a bit distraught, and she knew that it had more to do with her son's best friend than what happened to her daughter in law.
"Sweetheart," Mary began, sitting her mug in the sink, "look I love my son with every fiber of my being, and I know this may not be my place to say anything, but this lifestyle he and his father live is dangerous for everyone around them." She then approached Lena with caution. "Now, I believe you're a very smart girl, Lena, but I also know first hand just how charming these men can be. I'm not trying to tell you this to scare you or to be insensitive to my daughter in law, but please I just need you to take what happened last night into consideration. Get out while you still can." She finished, reaching up to caress Lena's cheek and then finally retreating from her sight once more.
Lena continued to stand in the kitchen, allowing Mary's words to sink in. Even with Donna's death looming in the air, Lena still would never consider that something like this could also happen to her. Again, these clubs knew the rules about women and children. But Donna's death had definitely changed everything.
Lena quickly shook that thought from her head. Her and Jax were in a bad spot right now, but she knew that he wouldn't let any physical harm come her way.
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Lena never understood the meaning behind these so-called sympathy casseroles. It was like everyone who had walked through that door this morning had brought these casseroles with them. Lena remembered her own fridge had been stuffed with these dishes after her mother's death. She also remembered the last thing she wanted was to eat anything at all. But she would admit that they did come in handy when she finally felt like she could eat. So that made her a bit grateful.
As Lena was busy shoving another casserole dish into the already overcrowded refrigerator, she turned in time to see Jax making his way back into the house.
Jax slowly approached her with caution. "Hey,"
"Hi," Lena hesitated, "how's Ope doing?"
"I mean, what you would expect in this type of situation,." Jax shrugged, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. Things get quiet for a moment, before he spoke up again. "Can we talk?"
"Jax," Lena huffed, not really sure if she wanted to do this. Especially after she told him that now wasn't the time.
"All I'm asking for is a few minutes. Please." Jax begged, and Lena could see the sorrow written in his steely gaze.
She then contemplated for a moment, before releasing a deep breath, "fine." Maybe it was best that they get this conversation out of the way instead of holding off on the inevitable.
Jax nodded in relief, before proceeding to lead Lena out of the house and onto the front porch. The two of them quickly took a seat on the vacant staircase.
Things had gone silent again, as they sat on those steps. Lena thought to just get up and leave things as is, but then she finally heard Jax say, "I'm so sorry, Lee. I never meant to hurt you."
Lena hated that excuse. If he never meant to hurt her, "then why did you do it in the first place?" She whispered softly, trying to hold back her tears. "If you never meant to hurt me, then why? You knew it would, Jax."
Jax went quiet once more. He felt his gut twisting in agony at the pain in her voice. But he knew that if they were to move forward with their relationship, he'd have to man up and finally tell the truth. "Honestly," he began, looking down at his pristine, white sneakers, before looking out ahead of himself, "it felt familiar." He then felt Lena tense beside him and turned to face her. "I never intended for shit to get that far with Tara —it just happened."
Lena then let out a sarcastic chuckle, not even looking his way. "Nothing just happens, Jax. Somewhere deep, down, you wanted this." She spat, and he went quiet again. "So, now what? You want me to forgive you? Because, I can't,"
Jax immediately cut her off. "I know you can't, Lee. And I'm really not expecting you to."
Lena sniffled, quickly wiping away a fallen tear. "Maybe all of this was a mistake, you know?" She muttered softly. "Us being together —me being your Old Lady."
Jax shook his head dismissively. "You and I both know that we are never gonna be a mistake. I love you, Lee,"
"But you love Tara." Lena finished for him, the bitterness rolling off her tongue.
Again, Jax shook his head. "Not in the way I used to. I meant what I said about what we have being more than what I could ever have with Tara."
Things get quiet again, before Lena spoke. "So, where do we go from here?"
Jax shrugged. "I don't know. That's up to you, Lee." He said, and Lena immediately looked at him, not exactly sure what he meant by that. "But whatever you decide, I'll respect your decision." He then stood up from his spot on the stoop, leaning down to kiss the top of Lena's head.
Lena then watched as Jax made his way over to his bike and started it up. He sat idly for a few moments, still watching Lena, before finally throwing on his helmet and finally taking off from her sight.
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After gliding another coat of a dark, cherry red lipstick to her full, plump lips, Lena capped and then quickly tossed the tube into her black clutch. She then looked back at her reflection in her bathroom mirror, going to remove the access lipstick from the corners of her mouth, before reaching up to make sure the fly-aways were tamed against her sleek low bun.
Today was the day that they were to finally lay Donna to rest. Opie had made the decision to not have a wake for his wife and that the best thing was to just give her a one final goodbye.
The sound of Lena's doorbell caught her off guard, as she wasn't expecting anyone. She swallowed thickly, finally turning her attention away from the mirror. She made her the tie on her black wrap dress was in place, as she grabbed her clutch and quickly headed down the stairs toward the front door.
Without checking, Lena swung the door open, surprised to find Gemma standing on the other side.
"Gemma," Lena began in confusion, "what are you doing here? I was just about to head over to the garage."
Gemma removed her sunglasses from her face, stepping inside Lena's home. "Hey, sweetheart. I was just stopping by to offer you a ride with me to the funeral. I know that Jax has been M.I.A. so I thought I'd take you so you wouldn't have to be alone."
Again Lena swallowed thickly at the mention of Jax's name. She hated to admit that she was a little worried about him since he had disappeared for a whole day from her radar. The last time she saw him was that day on the Winston front porch. After he left her, he kind of disappeared.
Lena knew that Jax was more than capable of taking care of himself, but when she saw his kutte lying next to Juice's laptop at the clubhouse, she knew that something was wrong. She knew for a fact that Jax never left anywhere without it.
"Um," Lena hesitated for a moment, "have you heard from him?"
Gemma released a deep sigh, shaking her head, while looking at her sunglasses in her palms. "No, I haven't. But I know he's okay." She then looked back over at Lena, and she knew that there was something more going on in that girl's mind. "You doing okay? You seem a little lost.'
Lena looked at Gemma, and the pair stood there, not saying a word. Lena didn't know if she wanted to divulge to Jax's mother about what Jax had done. This wasn't the time to bring that up, but if she knew Gemma's relationship with Jax, Gemma probably knew everything that happened. Sometimes Jax had a hard time keeping secrets from his mother.
Lena kept her silence for a few more moments, before feeling her emotions beginning to explode. From Jax's infidelity to Donna's murder, she was really at a loss for words. Releasing a shaky breath, she quickly wiped a stray tear from her cheek, "how did we even get here, Gemma? Donna didn't," she sniffled, "she didn't deserve this. Now Opie doesn't have his wife, the kids don't have their mother."
Gemma swallowed, reaching out to pull Lena into a hug. "I know, baby. This is gonna be tough for all of us." She cooed in Lena's ear while rubbing her back softly. They stay embraced for a few seconds, before Gemma finally pulls away. "Let's head out, okay?" She reached over to gently grab at Lena's chin.
Lena then watched as Gemma walked out of her home. She stood in the same spot, trying to catch her bearings for a bit. Once she was ready, she checked her clutch to make sure she had everything she needed: cell phone, tissues, mascara, and lipstick. Following Gemma's path, Lena grabbed her keys from the key hook by the door and finally stepped out of her house. Quickly locking her door, she walked toward Gemma's truck that was parked right next to her Mustang.
As Lena stepped into the vehicle, she was surprised to find Wendy sitting in the backseat with no Abel to be found. She didn't ask questions, she just assumed that Abel was in the care of his new nanny, as a funeral wasn't the best place for a newborn who had spent the first couple of months of his life in the NICU.
Quiet hellos had been exchanged between Lena and Wendy, while Gemma finally pulled out of Lena's driveway, heading to Teller-Morrow to join the funeral procession.
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If the day hadn't been so somber and desolate it would have been absolutely beautiful, as the sun cast brightly on the cemetery grounds. Lena found herself sitting in the middle of Gemma and Mary, watching Donna's closed casket lay before them. Gemma had Lena's hand in a tight grip, squeezing it gently every few seconds. She continued to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks, listening to the Priest read off the last of the Hail Marys.
Lena eyed her surroundings. So many people had shown up for Donna's funeral, including other Sons charters, who had led the procession. Across from Lena, standing behind members of SAMBEL,her eyes landed on the last person she expected to see here today.
Lena was surprised to see that Tara had the audacity to show up, knowing that she wasn't welcomed here. When the two women make eye contact with each other, Lena wanted nothing more than to make her way over to the good 'ol doctor and to tear into her for her part in what she and Jax did. She knew that Tara could feel it too, because Jax's ex looked down at her lap in shame. Lena just continued to stare at Tara, but kept herself restrained out of respect for the Winston family.
But sooner or later, Lena was definitely gonna have a talk with that woman.
Jax finally appeared just in time to break the silent conversation between Lena and Tara. He was casually making his way through the cemetery. Lena noticed that he was wearing the same clothes she last saw him in, minus his kutte that realized that Juice was now holding onto.
As Jax further approached them, Lena could see the tension coming from him and Clay. So, she suspected right then and there that this was the real reason for Jax's disappearance. Lena also noticed the bruise that had formed in the corner of Jax's mouth, where it looked as if someone had struck him in a fight. She then looked over at Tig, who was standing behind Clay, was also sporting some black and blue bruising across his face as well.
Lena swallowed the lump in the back of her throat, finally releasing Gemma's hand from hers and standing to her feet. Tossing one last look at Tara, she then made her way past the Winstons, Wendy, and members of SAMCRO; all eyes were now on her. She snatched Jax's kutte from Juice, meeting her Old Man half way. Jax stood in front of her, as she held it open and quickly helped him slip back into his kutte, where it always belonged.
Jax turned to face Lena, knowing what the look in her beautiful eyes meant for their relationship. He leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss on her cheek, before caressing it with his thumb. He stepped away from her and made his way to Donna's casket. Jax grabbed a flower, quickly turning to give his best friend a comforting nod, and laid the flower on top of the casket. He stood there for a few, before he finally turned to face Clay and Tig and stalked off.
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When the funeral was over, Lena went in search of Jax, knowing he was still in the cemetery. She knew she'd find him at his father's grave. And she was proven to be correct when she found him sitting on top of John Teller's headstone. He was smoking a cigarette, while reading over a thick packet in his hands.
Nerves ate at the pit of Lena's stomach, the closer she cautiously approached him. Jax had left her with the ultimate decision to make about the status of their relationship, which she had decided, but wasn't sure if it was the right decision.
"Hi," Lena squeaked out, now standing just a mere few feet from Jax
At the sound of her voice, Jax immediately stopped reading and looked up at her. "Hey," He spoke, blowing smoke from the last part of his cigarette out, before flicking the butt to the ground.
Lena's fingers gripped the sides of her dress tightly, to stop the shaking. "I was worried when you disappeared. What happened?" She questioned, pointing at the bruise on his mouth, and Jax just kept quiet. But he never took his attention from her. She took his silence as something he didn't want to tell her for her protection. "Okay, can we talk?"
Jax nodded, shoving whatever he was reading back into a manila envelope. "I already know where this is going, darlin'. I can see it in your eyes."
Lena released a shuddering breath, feeling her emotions starting to bubble in the pit of her stomach again. "I don't even know where to start. I love you, Jax. I've loved you since I was 15 years old, and as much as this is gonna hurt me to say this," she hesitated a bit, "I can't do this. I just need to be alone right now." She whispered, feeling two tears slip down her cheeks.
Jax looked off for a moment, taking it all in. He knew it was coming, but it didn't hurt any less. He then turned back to Lena, nodding. "Okay," he said, looking up at her surprised face, "I told you I'd respect your decision. But just because we're not gonna be together, doesn't mean I'm not gonna stop loving you, Lee. Or even be there for you, whatever you need. I promise I'm gonna make this shit right between you and me."
Lena swiped at the tears that she hadn't realized had begun to fall down her cheeks, finally stepping up to him. She then leaned forward, pressing her lips to his stubbled cheek. "Goodbye, Jax." She told him, before walking away.
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palztothewalls-blog · 6 years
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It’s the end and the beginning...
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“I love the person I’ve become because I fought to become her.”
I’ve made it! Day 14 post op. Thank you for taking this journey along with me. I honestly could never have mustard the strength to do all of this on my own. Here’s a little update of the last few weeks.
Surgery went fairly predictable for being something that has really never been seen. They got to the tumor and it appeared small, until they started removing (decompressing) the bone surrounding it.
(To clear the air of confusion, my tumor from the get go was not going to be removed. It is located in my brain, right at the inner portion of where the ear canal essentially starts. The purpose of leaving the tumor was to provide me the esthetics of having a face with as much normal function as possible. If the tumor was removed, I would have experienced anywhere from 6 months to almost 2 years of severe paralysis that likely would only return to, at best, where I am today with function. So it stays.)
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All of the bone was removed and the tumor grew substantially. So in all actuality, my tumor was larger than imaging showed because it was so compressed. When the bone was removed, the tumor expanded greatly in size. My doctor couldn’t give me an exact size but I will find out on my next scan in about six months, just how big it is. All in all, the surgery lasted somewhere between 4-6 hours? I’m not sure. It was a long time.
When I initially woke up, I was quizzed on the basic questions, who was I, where was I, what year, day, month, who was president, how old was I. Basically, I failed them all. Horribly. As you may have read from a previous post, I was a 27 year old unamed woman who had NO idea where she was but I’ll be damned if I got the president right. Obama. Giggles ensued with the staff as they ask again. I was so sure I was right. Shortly after my failed attempt at answering the questions, my family came in the room and I was getting the answers right…. back to ol Trump being the president haha!
So after that challenge, I experienced another, less funny problem. I remember screaming (okay repeating the beautiful word fuck at the top of my lungs) because I was in so much pain. My head hurt, sure, but my biggest complaint was my left shoulder. It was horrible and I was left with minimal function of it. My heart rate was 100-130s and my blood pressure was pretty elevated 150s/90s. Because of all of these complaints, the NP in the ICU had some concerns that I was experiencing symptoms of a heart attack. She had some labs drawn on me, and shocker, they came back elevated. Triponin is a level that shows stress on the heart, and anything >0.12 is indicative of a heart attack. My first level was 0.11. Repeat a couple hours later was 0.12. By this time, it’s the morning after surgery. I had no idea by this time what was going on. The NP came in and told me all of this and said my EKG was normal and long story short, my elevated levels had nothing to do with my heart but was because of the prolonged and aggressive surgery. The levels returned back down to normal on the next draw.
Sometime in the night, about 12 hours after surgery, I had my 18 million IVs saline locked (okay 4), art line out, and foley cath out. I was tickled fucking pink because I was told this would likely be 24 hours after surgery. I was up allllll night walking to the restroom and back. My momma, bless her heart, was up all night with me. It was awesome…. for me to be up and moving. After the heart debacle, I got transferred to the neuro med surg floor and I accepted it as a challenge to get out in 24 hours. I was shot down when I saw the doc in the ICU about the idea of going home, go figure. So I walked my ass off literally all night. Sunday morning, doc came in, took off that horrid compression on my head and gave me the green light to go home. No more than 30 minutes later, 48 hours after surgery, my ass was in the car ready to go. I maaaaaaaay have already had everything packed at like 5 am knowing I was kicking ass haha.
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So Sunday was awesome. Monday came. F my LIFE, Monday was hoooooooorrrrrrible. My shoulder pain was pretty much the devil, the pain in my head felt like I had the cast of Drumline in my brain, and I was exhausted. I some how made it through the day knowing Tuesday would be better. WROOOOOONG. It sucked just as bad. Maybe more. But then Wednesday came. And I’ll be darn, I felt alright. This whole time, my parents have been awesome in caring for me, making yummy meals and doing anything and everything to help me. God bless them.
Thursday came and I was ready to go home. From there, it’s only been downhill? Uphill? It’s been awesome. Each day I have felt better and better. My pain is essentially gone. My pre surgery symptoms have almost all disappeared. I no longer feel like I have a 20 pound mass in a 2 pound casing. My memory has finally returned to normal although there are a few things from pre surgery that I can’t remember were real or a dream. I still have pain, but the pain I have is from the trigeminal neuralgia, which is caused by nerve damage (in my case hector pushing on that nerve). I’ll likely always have this pain, but for me, only having this is totally doable.
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So, the next step? Hopefully never having to go through this again. If symptoms return, I’ll do the big whammy of a surgery to remove hector and graft a nerve back in the spot. Fingers crossed that never happens!!!
So to finish out what I hope to be my last post about hector, I’m going to share a list I’ve been creating of things you never knew until you have a brain tumor… and surgery. It’s fun to see the progression I made as the list goes on Enjoy!!
Headaches all of the sudden seem scarier because you know they are a sign of a growth in you, of which you have no control over.
People look at you differently. Like long sweet eye gazing looks. Like I have super human powers, or I am so pretty that they can’t stop getting enough of my beauty.
Free stuff. People all of the sudden want to gift you with items, drinks, food. Listen, I am not complaining. This is the best!!
Unsolicited advice. It comes flying in. Try this or try that. Essential oils, rub them on your head. Eat all protein, the ketosis will shrink it. Exorcism. Plexus! Beeeaaacchhh body! Have you tried low carb? How about the spleen of a donkey? Drop it. It’s unsolicited and I don’t want it. Thanks though!
You cry a lot. I mean, I cried a lot prior to my diagnosis because everyone thought I was crazy. Now I cry because I have a flipping brain tumor.
Naming it helps. It really does. Hector is an a-hole. But his little 5 letter name has nothing on me. I’m badass… that’s 6 letters of strength.
Friends and family respond in weird ways. Some look at you like you’re still the same ol spunky ass you are, while others think you’re a delicate flowers, and then those who just can’t even be friends anymore. That’s cool. I don’t need you in my life either, I got this!
That silly cancer “this is my fight” song is all of the sudden totally applicable. Tears. Lots of them. I am a strong woman.
The reality of needing to shave part of your head becomes oh to real. Like my hair?! This?! I JUST grew it out!
“Well thank God it’s not…” “It could be worse.” Literally words you hear constantly but are in no way comforting. True, I’m not going to die tomorrow. BUT, I still have an abnormal growth of cells that, if untreated, will ultimately likely kill me due to pressure on my brainstem. So thank god for that!
Finally having an excuse to stay in. Before people thought I was just making up my fatigue. Now I have a $6000 image to prove why I have fatigue. I should sell that image for art!
It’s like you’re wearing a stamp on your head saying “tell me all your horrible friend/family medical issues.” I’m not sure why this is the case. I mean, it doesn’t help. Should it make me feel better? I’m not sure here.
Blogging is essential. While it means the WORLD to have the support, love, and prayers from everyone, it is extremely exhausting keeping everyone up to date. Blogs fix that. And I happen to love writing so it’s a double win.
Having that “one” friend is key. While people want to support you, they often can’t fulfill the need to your requirements. It’s because they haven’t gone through it. They don’t get it. That’s okay. Find that someone who does get it. They will be your best friend who really gets it. Traci is my gold.
All of your daily fears are gone. Instantly. While I want nothing more than to be a wife and mother, it’s no longer on my mind daily. I just don’t care. Drama is stupid, always has been, but now I really don’t care.
MRIs suck. Bad. Open MRI? Not an option when it’s your brain. And it requires hours of imaging, all the time. I mean, I’m practically a walking nuclear power plant with all of the imaging I’ve had.
Speaking of MRIs. They are loud. Like 10 motorcycles sitting in this tiny little tube with you. And, the beautiful noice makes your insides shake in synchronized rhythm. Word of advice… don’t have one if you have an upset stomach. It’s bad.
You rarely get to wear your own clothes in the MRI. All metal must be out. Usually you get a fashionable moo moo that wraps around 10 times. Super comfy.
Let’s keep on the topic of MRIs. I legitimately feared I was going to be ripped out of this thing by a zombie. Apparently it’s a common fear to have. Who knew?!
You immediately get initiated into this little “special” group of people. I have met people from all over this country within a few weeks. It provides for great friendship and resources for doctors that may fit you well for your specific type of tumor.
Every day, you say to yourself “I have a brain tumor.” Every single day. Initially, it was every second of every day. It was literally all I could think. Now it’s maybe once or twice a day. A random thought about it, mostly just when someone else brings it up, and then move on with life.
It never gets easier to say though. I have a brain tumor. Nope. Never easier. Just starts to roll of the tongue easier lol.
I have a lot of anxiety, now a million times worse knowing what I know.
I really hate talking about Hector. A lot. It makes my anxiety escalate through the roof.
Appointments. The devil. Impending doom. What will the next step be? I certainly can’t sleep before them.
While speaking of appointments, one must paint their toenails before the neurology appointments. It NEVER FAILS, the nurse will say “take off your shoes and socks and the doctor will be right in.”
Then there’s brain surgery. You hope you get some superpower from it. Me? I wanted to come out speaking fluent French or Spanish. No such luck.
Brain surgery really is that bad, initially, but after a few days, life gets better and you start feeling like you again.
Remember that fear of shaving your head? It’s gone after you do it. Now you have a badass scar that provides endless amounts of strength.
I love my scar. It’s beautiful to me. I’m not ashamed, and you should never be ashamed of a battle fought hard, no matter if the scar is inside or outside.
All those appointments you had before surgery, you will still have them, and imaging all the time after. Will it ever stop? No.
Everyone compares their bad days to my bad days, and it helps them feel better. While I am happy my illness helps you have a better day, it doesn’t matter what the battle is, it’s you conquering and moving forward with life.
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May you never forget that. Don’t ever compare your battles in life and try to belittle or expand the severity based on someone else’s life. This is your battle, your life. Fight on. Be strong. Have faith. There will come a day when you wake up after the battle is over and find that joy and peace you’ve been searching and asking for.
After 12 ½ years of battling and advocating, I sign off and pray I never have to return to this blog. Much love to you all and Hector, go to hell!
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patroclusblack · 4 years
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10 year challenge.
At the turn of the decade I was naive, arrogant, somewhat confident, I guess? and on a downward spiral into the fucking abyss. I didn’t have morals or a plan or structure or a fucking back bone but people liked me.
What would I say to him, knowing what I know now? What would I write in a letter? What wisdom and knowledge would I perform in a grandeur sob story in attempts to appease RuPaul’s tyrannical demands for good tv? What were my best bits?
I’m not gonna do that. Shoulda woulda coulda is the most damaging thing when you’re riddled with depression, constantly regretting your mistakes and doubting yourself; highlighting every single mis-step like it’s the Hollywood Walk of Fame. I’ve spent too many nights wishing I could do it all over. I have a penchant for self pity. Poor, unfortunate soul.
I’m not gonna post a picture from 2010 and compare it to a photo of myself today, because I haven’t had a “glow up”. I hate photos of myself as it is, but I’m not gonna humiliate my former self and look at what a sad sap I used to be and look how I’ve grown!! Because that’s not healthy, it’s not helpful. It’s not advocating awareness for mental health. Bleurgh that was gross. But it’s not, I can’t sit and look at all these posts of people making their former bodies and personas a laughing stock to fuel their narrow minded self importance. All it does is pit everyone against each other, and fuel these dickhead’s egos. It’s damaging and even though the intent perhaps isn’t there, it still makes you feel lesser when you’re bombarded by the people you went to highscool with peacocking all over the internet, because you didn’t get married or graduate or get that big promotion, because you didn’t get a six pack and make your own fuckin onlyfans account. Besides the point. I haven’t actually grown, I haven’t had a magical glow up, or changed or completed my bucket list. I didn’t live, I barely scraped by.
How did I survive though, what did I learn? What’s the whole point in this? Is this just another melodramatic, mid-night rant while I’m sober and angry because I’ve spent too much time on instagram today!?
Well, yes, but also:
I stopped comparing myself to others.
I try to make a conscious point of considering the position and emotions of my family when I’m in a bad way
I woke myself up to signs of toxic men and avoided some gross situations
I learnt about my political stance, my privilege, and important topics that are specific to me; ie my sexuality, my social class, my friends struggles with gender identity and social acceptance, lgbtq law, supporting my friends who are dealing with trauma, local and world politics. I just listened, and read, and educated myself on stuff that really matters, to me.
I did stuff that made me happy more often. I don’t mean things that are gonna make me a happy person, just things that made me happy for a time. I don’t know how long I’ll be alive for, and I mean that in the least suicidey way possible, it’s just fact. So I want the people who love me to at least be able to remember enjoying me and feel like I was worth their time, in the same way that I cherish and obsess over every person that walks my way. And I want my time on earth to be somewhat bareable too yknow?
I listened to a lot of music. I read a lot of books. I bought a lot of books. I left a job that wasn’t good for my mental health and learnt how to give myself some financial stability. Sometimes I cook. Mainly I just sat in my pants watching Netflix and got wasted, but sometimes I did that with people too. I had really good sex. I also had some horrid sex and even some traumatic sex but that’s for another day. I spent a lot of time playing with my dogs. I drive everywhere, cos I just like driving. I go to museums and I like having a croissant, coffee and cigarette breakfast outside when it’s sunny because it makes me feel fancy. I observe, but mostly I just do, cos what’s the point in not?
I’m not saying that’s how you do it, that this is Mental Health Survival 101, but things like that shift the focus. I cba giving you the whole schpiel (sp? Is that even a word?) about self love and mindfulness and well being, because I’m not a smoothing sipping sycophant wearing birkenstock’s in the middle of winter on the way to my yoga retreat. But also because that doesn’t work for me. I’ve tried meditation, routine and exercise. If it works for you then that’s amazing, but I don’t have the patience or the attitude or the attention span to give a shit about that or the condescending movement it’s become anymore. My idea of self love is tequila, porn and garlic bread.
I guess what I wanted to say was, I haven’t had the best decade, I haven’t grown very much I don’t think. But also, I’m not gonna look back on all those years, good or bad, and regret it, or wish I’d done a little bit more, because what’s done is done. I’m not gonna compare myself to others experiences and outcomes. All I can do is observe and accept. Or unfollow them.
I’m not one for New Years resolutions, all the new year new me bollocks (does that really surprise you though?) but I do want to learn to just be kind to myself. Recently, during the midst of The Twitter Gays posting their annual Top 9 on insta, and yearly accomplishment posts, I came to a realisation that I’d put the bare minimum about myself out into the world this year. Not that I have to document everything, or feel that I need to, but I realised I’d really taken a step back. I knew I hadn’t posted any pictures of myself because I knew how critical I’d become of myself again, and that’s not a headspace I like to be in. I’m never going to be happy, I know that. I’m never going to truly love myself, but it’s nice to be nice right? I don’t want to end up in that vacuum of self hatred again.
When I was 18, I was miserable, lonely and depressed (pathetic), now I’m 28 and at least I can say I’m consistent. I still don’t know who I am. I’ve been single for a while, and when I don’t have someone to latch onto, I really struggle with my identity, hence why I try to enjoy simple things like the previously listed. I’m, somewhat, in control of damaging behaviours, or at least I’m aware of when I’m slipping out of control. But I’m also just a very lonely person and I am entirely consumed by a giant void inside of me. Sometimes I do okay, and sometimes I slip, and I’m alright with that. At this present moment in time I’m at peace with the person I’ve become and the person I’ve been for the last decade.
What I will do is learn about writing structure, because this post has been a whole ass journey huh?
I’d say happy new year but time is a concept, designed by humans to give us an inane understanding of change. Time is not, but it always has been and always will be. And I also do not want to admit to myself that I’m getting old(er).
Here’s hoping I make it out alive again.
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jenmedsbookreviews · 6 years
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It is official. I am broken. Well … when I say official, I mean that I feel it. Let’s face it – none of us are getting any younger, me included, and it’s fair to say I’ve been working some pretty wacky hours of late. Well … they are finally catching up with me and if the bags under my eyes get much bigger, I’m not going to have to worry about taking my bags for life to Tesco for the weekly shop anymore …
This week was less hectic than previous weeks, but I’m not entirely convinced that’s a good thing. You know how it is. When you’ve been running around like a loon for ages, the minute you finally take a step back and relax, the worse you feel for it. That’s me this week. Only one trip out, although it was a long one. 0300 start to drive the 170+ miles to Southampton for an 0545 start. Then a day out on the van with one of my team who was using our new POD system for the first time. Thankfully the weather was good as I spent the day travelling around various customer in Southampton and seeing places I had read of in books. In fact at one point it felt as though I was on a Helen Grace mystery tour… Lots of views of the Solent and I saw some really big butts in the docks and some slightly smaller butts on a shelf … (that’s boats to people who have never watched Finding Nemo …). Actually, I suppose to the navy they’d be ships – boats go under water …
Actually, the worst part about the day wasn’t the early start or the 12 boxes (8 bottles bottles of water cooler water included) that we had to take to the second floor of an oldish building with no lift and a rather small staircase. Nope. That’s all bread and butter stuff and nothing I can really complain about as my drivers have to do it every day. The worst part … that was the nearly 5 hour drive home. Bloody Friday traffic and being that horrid hybrid weekend at the end/start of a half term week. Yak. No easy way back whichever way I played it. Got about 60% through my next audio book though so it’s not all bad, but I am fluffing knackered now.
The weekend was much better. Headed down to London late morning (I know – I’m nuts) for the TBC 3rd Birthday party. I have no pictures as I am not a selfie gal and I have already done something foolish this weekend which will haunt me (and you) for years :p, but there will be some knocking about of me on social media to prove I did it, and I do have witnesses by way in Susan Hampson, Linda Hill, Fiona Wilson and Rachel Gilbey amongst others 🙂 A big thanks to Tracy and the gang for organising it as it was a fab night and I got to meet some great folk and catch up with a few authors I’ve met before or have been chatting with on Social Media.  I even rounded off the weekend with a trip to what is quite possibly my favourite restaurant now – Ole and Steen – for some Halloween cakes before heading home Sunday morning.
I know. Just … don’t say anything about the picture on the right. It is white chocolate, filled with a kind of chocolate cream.marshmallow and a marzipan base. It is very tasty and it is a ghost!!! Not all mine. I shared with family as a thank you for poochie sitting.
Anyhoo – back to the books. Well – Saturday night came with a whole host of them as each attendee had a tote bag full of goodies and I was also given a couple of new books by the lovely Karen Sullivan of Orenda Books. What did I get? Well, a side from back ache carrying them all home 😉 – from the party: The Watcher by Ross Armstrong; The Mine by Antti Tuomainen (love that book); Will You Remember Me by Amanda Prowse;  Sing Unburied Sing by Jesmyn Ward and The House by Simon Lelic. From the lovely Karen I received Maria in the Moon by the equally lovely Louise Beech and Deep Blue Trouble by the also very lovely Steph Broadribb. I will admit to getting a bit Gollum over them and perhaps stroking my new books a little too much … Moving on.
Book post wise, just the one this week but it is a cracker and I am very, very excited to read it. Again from the lovely Karen Sullivan and Orenda Books I received the CWA Short Story Anthology – Mystery Tour featuring some very fabulous authors. Bouncy happy tigger moment for me then. The only thing to cheer me after a very long Friday of travel. You find the last reserve of energy for the good books. Isn’t it stunning?
Book purchase wise I have been very reserved. I only ordered/pre-ordered the following books: The Cover Up by Marnie Riches; Truth or Dare by Richard Parker; Come Out To Play by Dylan Young; The Summer of Impossible Things by Rowan Coleman; Before You Go by Clare Swatman; The Prodigal by Nicky Black and The Good Samaritan by John Marrs. No new Netgalley titles. I know!!! And no new audio books either.
Reading wise … well I really need to buck my ideas up as I’ve been pants again this week. Only three completed plus about 2/3 of an audio book and just about started another book. I am now a book and a half behind plan but determined to catch up. If I am missing from the world of blogging and sharing, you know why.
Books I have read
The Good Samaritan by John Marrs
She’s a friendly voice on the phone. But can you trust her?
The people who call End of the Line need hope. They need reassurance that life is worth living. But some are unlucky enough to get through to Laura. Laura doesn’t want them to hope. She wants them to die.
Laura hasn’t had it easy: she’s survived sickness and a difficult marriage only to find herself heading for forty, unsettled and angry. She doesn’t love talking to people worse off than she is. She craves it.
But now someone’s on to her—Ryan, whose world falls apart when his pregnant wife ends her life, hand in hand with a stranger. Who was this man, and why did they choose to die together?
The sinister truth is within Ryan’s grasp, but he has no idea of the desperate lengths Laura will go to…
Because the best thing about being a Good Samaritan is that you can get away with murder.
Oh, oh, oh. Now I loved Mr Marrs last book The One (met him over the weekend too – lovely chap), but I have to say I think this one is even better. It’s quite a taboo topic and the main character is very, very dark. The creeping, twisting and unravelling story had me completely hooked, even if some of the characters made some mad decisions. Gah. I can’t talk about the book without spoiling things, but I am going to have to try as my review is due on Saturday – eeek. Out on December 1st, you can pre-order your own copy, as I have done, right here.
Killing State by Judith O’Reilly
The bullet in his brain isn’t the problem. She is. Michael North is a hero, with a bullet in the brain to prove it. A bullet which has rewired his neural pathways and heightened his sense of intuition. A bullet which is driving him mad.
Working for an extra-governmental agency called The Board, North knows one thing for sure. He is very good at killing very bad guys. But what happens when a hero is ordered to kill a good woman rather than a bad man?
Because it turns out that rising political star, Honor Jones, MP, can’t stop asking the right questions about the wrong people. 
He should follow orders.
Shouldn’t he?
Wowsers. What a book. I don’t know quite what I was expecting when I started to read this but it wasn’t this. Part action thriller, part psychological thriller and part conspiracy theory, this is a most unusual but very entertaining and gripping read. You shouldn’t love a guy who is essentially a gun for hire but there is something about Michael North which engages you and has you rooting for a man you should want to see taken down. I’ll be reviewing this for the blog tour at the weekend but you can order a copy here.
White Out by Ragnar Jónasson
Two days before Christmas, a young woman is found dead beneath the cliffs of the deserted village of Kálfshamarvík. Did she jump, or did something more sinister take place beneath the lighthouse and the abandoned old house on the remote rocky outcrop?
With winter closing in and the snow falling relentlessly, Ari Thór Arason discovers that the victim’s mother and young sister also lost their lives in this same spot, twenty-five years earlier. As the dark history and its secrets of the village are unveiled, and the death toll begins to rise, the Siglufjordur detectives must race against the clock to find the killer, before another tragedy takes place.
Dark, chilling and complex, Whiteout is a haunting, atmospheric and stunningly plotted thriller from one of Iceland’s bestselling crime writers.
Man… I wanted to savour this, the last in the Ari Thor series, but I just couldn’t. I had to read and read and read until I was finished. What a haunting story; what a wonderfully atmospheric setting, what a brilliant way to say goodbye to Ari. Oh … but now I have to review it and there are only so many times you can use the word brilliant and perfect and magnificent and … well you get the picture. You’ll see if I managed to find any unique and seldom used adjectives next Monday. In the meantime go order yourselves a copy here.
And that was it. As I say I am most of the way through another audio book which I hope to complete and review this week, and I’m part way through another book I started last night, but I have a way to go to catch up with myself right now. Still if I go into radio (or social media) silence, you’ll know it’s in a good cause. And I have a pretty full week on the blog this week just as I did last, which you can see the highlights of below:
Review: Christmas at the Falling Down Guest House by Lilly Bartlett
#BookLove: Karen Cole
#BlogTour: Dead Lands by Lloyd Otis
#BlogTour: Absolution by P.A. Davies
#BlogBlitz: A Cosy Candlelit Christmas by Tilly Tennant
#BlogBlitz: The Lost Child by Patricia Gibney
Review: Now We Are Dead by Stuart MacBride
Review: The Binding Song by Elodie Harper
Broken Bones by Angela Marsons – Prologue Preview
The week ahead is a mixture of blog tours, and a little book love, this time from Annie at The Misstery Book Blog. Blog Tour wise I’m dropping in reviews of Murder Game by Caroline Mitchell, The Good Samaritan by John Marrs, and Killing State by Judith O’Reilly. I also have a special review planned in for later in the week, but trust me – soon said, soonest mended on that front. You may won’t want to miss it…
So that is it folks. I am off to read. Or sleep. Or some weird hybrid combination of both. If you share my posts this week – thanks in advance. If you see me about on Social Media – tell me to sod off and get some reading (or work) done.
Have a fabulously bookish week all
Jen
Rewind, recap: Weekly update w/e 29/10/17 It is official. I am broken. Well ... when I say official, I mean that I feel it.
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