So the surgery was a success. They were able to keep my left ovary and there was no cancer to be found, which I’m super stoked about. Now I’m sore, although that’s to be expected and all. Jesse seriously sat by my side the whole time. Through the panic attacks, the drugged out rambles, the needing help to move and talking to me while peeing so I could get my mind off of the pain. Between Jesse and my mother these past three days have been super easy and quite possibly the most loved, caring and respectful days of my life. I don’t think that any of my ex’s could handle seeing me in such pain, or deal with me being that drugged and rambling or the countless “I need your help with this” questions. I’m super lucky to have those two amazing people in my life. Then all the texts from Austin, Antha, Jess and Steph. It’s times like this that you see who your real and true friends are. Jesse helps me with everything, it’s rather cute but at the same time, I HATE having him do everything for me. I need help getting into and out of the car, I need help getting into the house, I need help going up and down stairs. I can’t lift up or pull up anything that weights more then one gallon of milk, which is pretty much EVERYTHING. I can’t even pick up my beloved kitten, simply because the fatass weights 15 pounds! Even getting into bed is painful. Tomorrow night I’m going to see if Jesse can spend the night, mostly because it’s easier to sleep when he’s next to me(Jesse rarely moves in his sleep, which is what I need being that I don’t want to rip out any of my stitches and possibly rip open one of the tree holes on my stomach.) And too think that I have to have help like this and be in this kinda of pain for two weeks to a month, is killing me. Although I hope that within the next, say, two weeks I’ll be able to do more and not be in so much pain.

Okay, it’s 4:35 am, and I’ve barely slept in three days, let alone sleep in my own bed. So I’m going to (hopefully) go to sleeps now.