Well, it was an extremely hard transition.  As soon as I returned to work (after the second set of surgeries), I knew I was "unfit" for duty, and needed to file for disability.  I was unable to perform my job.  Yet, I had to keep it a secret from everyone, except my husband and our (Police) Benefits Officer.  If the City found out that I was applying for disability, I would be medically seperated, which is essentially being fired.

I was dealing with four surgeries, two back to back each time, a year apart.  With the intense pain, and the pressure it was putting on me at work, due to the need to call off, I was nearly losing my mind. I did not qualify for the Federal Family Leave Act (the second time around, I guess because it was a Workman's Compensation Case).  The FMLA is when you have a medical issue, etc., where you can take as much time as you need, without fear of pusnishment or harassaament from co-workers or supervisors.  So again, I did not qualify, and I was still having to call off at least once a week, and "getting in trouble for it".  

I was unable to share my dilemma.  I couldn't tell my boss, "Look, I am trying to resolve this-I have filed for disability"!  I had to tolerate the lectures, etc.  My co-workers "resented" me (it wasn't so much me, per se-it would have been whomever was in my position).  They had to do without me for 10 months already, which put more pressure and stress on them, and there wasn't always someone to fill my 'slot' (with overtime). 

Once I was back, I had to deal with feelings of animosity, and then resentment for me calling off so frequently. (Then there was a whole fisaco with Overtime, which I tried to volunteer for, to make up for my time off, and that only angered some, because they did not realize I was trying to 'make-up' for my being a burden.  It was totally misread, and blown out of proportion.  To top it off, my supervisor did not even defend me).  I wasn't dealing with it well, because, physically I was "dying", and emotionally, I was "raw", and feeling things way more than I would normally.  I hated being in that position, and I hated that my co-workers had to suffer so much, because of my physical ailment.  It was a terrible time for all.

Prior to my first surgery, not only was I injured, but I was dealing with my Dad's Alzheimer's-full blown, crazy, violent Alzheimers!  Watching his capacity diminish, and watching my family structure diminish all at the same time was destroying me.  I learned at that moment, co-workers are co-workers, and not friends-at least not in the true sense of the word.  A co-worker misread how I was handling my "situations", and decided, out of concern, to tell my supervisor that she thought I was suicidical, because my behavoir was so erratic.  It was very hurtful, because my job was the only stabilty I had.  As if everything going on wasn't bad enough, they took my gun away, and suspended me with pay.  Extremely humilating, but that turned out to be a HUGE BLESSING, because my Dad died while I was off work...and I had plenty of time to get myself together.

I returned to work, and began the process of filing for the Disability, which is a very tiring and stressful process in itself.  Millions of doctors appointments, and hoops to jump through.  Yet, after almost a year I received the Disability...much to my relief, because I thought of how much stress I was alleviating, not only for ME, but for my co-workers!  I was so happy, yet never had the chance to think all that far in the future, and the ramifications of my leaving!  It was like it happened overnight...

It seemed like my 17+ of Service was under-valued, and all for naught.  I never got a goodbye or a kick in the pants!!  It's not like a regular retirement, where you can give notice, or there are any good byes.  I walked in, announced it, and I was gone.  I was also very saddened and stressed that things really didn't improve for my co-workers (for various reasons), and for the two detectives who had to pull all the weight (and who are still "suffering").  So, my leaving really didn't help much at all.  And honestly...I WAS thinking of them more at the time, than myself-and it was such a let down.  The 'burden" was gone, but nothing improved.  So ironic!

Once I left, it all hit me,  and I began to feel it all-the fact that, "this is my life" (the pain, etc), my career was over (I was no longer a cop-it's all I knew), my co-workers really gained nothing, my Dad was gone, so on and so on.  So many life changes at once.  I gained 60 pounds, and went into a deep depression.  I was trying to work through all of this-all the hurt and pain physically and mentally.  Only by the grace of God did I survive.  I just trusted Him.  I just came to the realization that it was meant to be...and that God had other plans for me. There is so much more to the story, that I prefer not to share...and it just opens up old wounds.

It has taken the past 3 years to get through this-a lot of tears, and a lot of chewing 'it' over.  I didn't even realize I suffered from PTSD from both the job and the way I was treated (by the City, etc.) while I was suffering and trying to get my disability!!  Yet, I am a fighter, and I began to take charge of my life again!  I began to exercise (as much as a broken body can) and eating heathly.  I have lost almost all the weight. I sought out a Christian counselor, and through her (God put her in my life) Christian books, and my Faith in God, I am finally getting by. I am currently in counseling and working through the last little bits of the issues/stress...but I am doing just fine.  God has other plans for me...