Dubya is a freakin' asswipe. If I had to hear "nucular" one more time I thought that I was going to reach into the T.V. and rip out the tube.
Why did I watch it? Well, there was nothing else on.
Although, I did like the flubs, especially when he was trying to say that he wanted to get AIDS patients "access to drugs", and tripped over his words, so it came out as "access to JUGS" HARHARHAHAR! I had a good giggle over that one.
Yeah, he's definitely a douchebag. It was just another example of glad-handing by our good 'ol boy. I did like the democrats getting up to applaud, however, when he tried to be a smug bastard about how Congress blocked his attempt "to save social security". Heh. Good one, Hillary. I love her. She rocks.
And, what of Justice Alito, Jersey Boy? Blech. We're so screwed with him on the bench. It's enough to make me revoke my New Jersey residency and call Seton Hall University to hand back my diploma.
Politics just SUCKS. Why can't they just cut through the bullshit and actually ACCOMPLISH something, instead of talk about it? It totally reminds me of working in corporate America-the management would always be "discussing" how they can "plan" changes. Sounded like a reason for a company-paid lunch or dinner out, IMHO. I guess things don't get much better, especially when it's the taxpayer's money that's being used.
Okay, enough with being aggravated-it's time for bed.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Monday, January 30, 2006
Achy Breaky Pelvis
Well, today is cycle day #1, again. Don't ask me what cycle-I stopped counting after 13 or so. It was too damn depressing to keep the tally up, if ya know what I mean.
This makes me have my period twice this month. I had my period on January 1st, now today (the 30th). It happens occasionally, since I'm usually a 28-30 day cycle kinda gurl. But still, it blows.
I've been having these pains recently in my groin/reproductive area, on both sides, for the past few days. Similar to those lovely mittelschmerz pains, but, of course, my egg popped out long ago, so it isn't that. It isn't to the point that I'm rolling on the floor in agony, but it's pretty damn uncomfortable. And, really, it isn't a stabbing pain, it's a constant, dull, nagging ache that radiates from my ovary-ish region down and out. But, it's annoying all the same.
So now I'm paranoid and convinced that I have endo. Of course, I know nothing about endo, but why the hell would I have achiness like that?? The only other thing that I can think of is that perhaps my crappy tubes are inflamed somehow and they're irritated. Of course, there's no real way to find that out, until I have the lap, so I'll just have to file that away under the title "Obsessive Reproductive Thoughts" and remember to ask that whenever I have my consult for the second opinion. Which will hopefully be soon-I sent the payment to get my medical records copied and sent out to me, so once I get them, then I can schedule the appointment.
All these burning questions will be answered in due time.
Yay.
This makes me have my period twice this month. I had my period on January 1st, now today (the 30th). It happens occasionally, since I'm usually a 28-30 day cycle kinda gurl. But still, it blows.
I've been having these pains recently in my groin/reproductive area, on both sides, for the past few days. Similar to those lovely mittelschmerz pains, but, of course, my egg popped out long ago, so it isn't that. It isn't to the point that I'm rolling on the floor in agony, but it's pretty damn uncomfortable. And, really, it isn't a stabbing pain, it's a constant, dull, nagging ache that radiates from my ovary-ish region down and out. But, it's annoying all the same.
So now I'm paranoid and convinced that I have endo. Of course, I know nothing about endo, but why the hell would I have achiness like that?? The only other thing that I can think of is that perhaps my crappy tubes are inflamed somehow and they're irritated. Of course, there's no real way to find that out, until I have the lap, so I'll just have to file that away under the title "Obsessive Reproductive Thoughts" and remember to ask that whenever I have my consult for the second opinion. Which will hopefully be soon-I sent the payment to get my medical records copied and sent out to me, so once I get them, then I can schedule the appointment.
All these burning questions will be answered in due time.
Yay.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Scooby Doo and the Case of the Missing Medical Records
It seems that the medical records issue has been resolved.
I called my twatotologist's office and spoke to the woman "in charge" of medical records. Of course, when I called she had "just left for the day" (figures), and I had to call back the next day. I hate that. It's always my shitty luck to call for someone who's just walked out for the day. And, of course, being a teacher it's not like I can just call as soon as the office opens. Especially if they don't open until 10am. And close their office between 12:00-1:30pm for lunch. Jeez, how do they actually get anything done??
But, I digress. I called again on Wednesday, after school, and reached the aforementioned woman, who had a heavy accent and was difficult, at first, to understand. I explained that I was a patient in the practice, have been seeing an RE who was supposed to be sending copies of my medical records and I was checking to see if they were received. The woman had "to check the computer" and call me back, as they've been transferring their paper files to electronic. Half an hour later she called back, saying that they only got two pages from Dr. Vest. Hmmm......sounds strange, right? So, I called Dr. Vest's office and left a message for Nursey P, explaining the situation, and ended up playing phone tag until this morning. When I talked to her she told me that they sent over a lot more paperwork than two pages, and I had to tell her that I think that they lost some information in the conversion. We then agreed that I would pay a fee, they'd copy my entire chart, release it to me, and then I could copy and forward it on the the gyn's office-that way, if they fuck up again, I don't have to bother Nursey P. a gazillion times.
Also, it gives me the records, which I should have anyway. And, I can finally get down to getting that second opinion that I've decided on.
It seems that it's all falling into place-hopefully the momentum will last.
P.S. I've got "Oprah" on right now-it's a live show because of the whole James Frey book scandal. She's been ripping into the author and now the publisher about the apparent embellishments of the book. Holy shit-she is PISSED!! She's giving it out to them, saying that she's "embarrassed and disappointed". WOW.............and I totally don't blame her. It's just another example that people are fucked up.
I called my twatotologist's office and spoke to the woman "in charge" of medical records. Of course, when I called she had "just left for the day" (figures), and I had to call back the next day. I hate that. It's always my shitty luck to call for someone who's just walked out for the day. And, of course, being a teacher it's not like I can just call as soon as the office opens. Especially if they don't open until 10am. And close their office between 12:00-1:30pm for lunch. Jeez, how do they actually get anything done??
But, I digress. I called again on Wednesday, after school, and reached the aforementioned woman, who had a heavy accent and was difficult, at first, to understand. I explained that I was a patient in the practice, have been seeing an RE who was supposed to be sending copies of my medical records and I was checking to see if they were received. The woman had "to check the computer" and call me back, as they've been transferring their paper files to electronic. Half an hour later she called back, saying that they only got two pages from Dr. Vest. Hmmm......sounds strange, right? So, I called Dr. Vest's office and left a message for Nursey P, explaining the situation, and ended up playing phone tag until this morning. When I talked to her she told me that they sent over a lot more paperwork than two pages, and I had to tell her that I think that they lost some information in the conversion. We then agreed that I would pay a fee, they'd copy my entire chart, release it to me, and then I could copy and forward it on the the gyn's office-that way, if they fuck up again, I don't have to bother Nursey P. a gazillion times.
Also, it gives me the records, which I should have anyway. And, I can finally get down to getting that second opinion that I've decided on.
It seems that it's all falling into place-hopefully the momentum will last.
P.S. I've got "Oprah" on right now-it's a live show because of the whole James Frey book scandal. She's been ripping into the author and now the publisher about the apparent embellishments of the book. Holy shit-she is PISSED!! She's giving it out to them, saying that she's "embarrassed and disappointed". WOW.............and I totally don't blame her. It's just another example that people are fucked up.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
The Closed Door
Piss Boy struck again.
I know that I've posted about this before, but Buddy has, well, an occasional problem with peeing outside the litter box. It's not like we don't keep the catbox clean as we're (or, should I say, Sean is-I don't "do" litter) pretty vigilant about making sure it's scooped out daily. We also have two boxes, with hoods, as was recommended by our vet when we took Buddy to him when the whole thing started. Basically, it seems as if our dear kitty is super-sensitive to the cleanliness of the box. Or, he's got a psychological problem. Sean thinks the latter.
I just bought a lovely new comforter set for the extra bedroom, complete with new sheets and matching valance for the window. Not that I'm a label whore (okay, I AM a label whore), but it was a Laura Ashley pattern that I've been salivating over for six months, and got at Marshall's for peanuts (half was on clearance). We happily made up the bedroom, intentionally avoiding the glaring fact that, had I not miscarried, we'd be making up a crib in this room, not a full-sized bed. Sean voiced his misgivings about putting "nice things" on the bed, as Piss Boy might tag it, but I reassured him that I would check the bedding every day.
Piss Boy won. I went into the bedroom Monday morning to find a stain on the delicate white sheets, comforter and pillowcase on one side---FUCK!!! So, everything came off and into the washer it went. Luckily it didn't soak down into the mattress, but I cleaned the hell out of it as a precaution with baking soda and white vinegar, and flipped over the mattress. And, as another precaution, we decided to keep the bedroom door permanently closed, which is unfortunate for Peachy as she loves to sleep on "her" bed. Perhaps that's why he did it-maybe it's territorial, who knows.
Also unfortunate is, when you pass the room, you can't see the lovely new comforter set and matching valance. You also don't get the wonderfully bright light that comes through every morning, accentuated by the butter-yellow color on the walls and white trim.
Just a sucky situation, all around.
We tried to justify closing the door-the cats shouldn't be there anyway, they'd just claw up the new comforter (I didn't have the heart to declaw them), we'd have cat fur everywhere, and, anyway, it will someday be a nursery, so the cats need to get used to not being allowed to sleep in there. That it's not really "their" room. So, the door was shut.
The door faces our bedroom door, so every morning after I wake up, I see the closed door facing me, reminding me that my hope for a baby is, for the present, as inaccesible to me as this room is to the cat. It symbolizes the stubborness of my body to cooperate, the fact that my shitty Fallopian tube portal is also blocked off. It glares at me, accusingly, saying "Hey, where's the baby you promised me? You painted me yellow, refinished the floor, but there's no crib-what the FUCK!?". The closed door nags at me that time is ticking away, that my biological clock will wait only so long, that I need to GET ON THE BALL and make decisions.
I hate that fucking door. Every time I pass it, on my way down the stairs, I want to kick it and tell it to piss off.
But, for now, it's a necessary evil to live with, just like my crappy tubes. For how long, only time and fate will tell.
I know that I've posted about this before, but Buddy has, well, an occasional problem with peeing outside the litter box. It's not like we don't keep the catbox clean as we're (or, should I say, Sean is-I don't "do" litter) pretty vigilant about making sure it's scooped out daily. We also have two boxes, with hoods, as was recommended by our vet when we took Buddy to him when the whole thing started. Basically, it seems as if our dear kitty is super-sensitive to the cleanliness of the box. Or, he's got a psychological problem. Sean thinks the latter.
I just bought a lovely new comforter set for the extra bedroom, complete with new sheets and matching valance for the window. Not that I'm a label whore (okay, I AM a label whore), but it was a Laura Ashley pattern that I've been salivating over for six months, and got at Marshall's for peanuts (half was on clearance). We happily made up the bedroom, intentionally avoiding the glaring fact that, had I not miscarried, we'd be making up a crib in this room, not a full-sized bed. Sean voiced his misgivings about putting "nice things" on the bed, as Piss Boy might tag it, but I reassured him that I would check the bedding every day.
Piss Boy won. I went into the bedroom Monday morning to find a stain on the delicate white sheets, comforter and pillowcase on one side---FUCK!!! So, everything came off and into the washer it went. Luckily it didn't soak down into the mattress, but I cleaned the hell out of it as a precaution with baking soda and white vinegar, and flipped over the mattress. And, as another precaution, we decided to keep the bedroom door permanently closed, which is unfortunate for Peachy as she loves to sleep on "her" bed. Perhaps that's why he did it-maybe it's territorial, who knows.
Also unfortunate is, when you pass the room, you can't see the lovely new comforter set and matching valance. You also don't get the wonderfully bright light that comes through every morning, accentuated by the butter-yellow color on the walls and white trim.
Just a sucky situation, all around.
We tried to justify closing the door-the cats shouldn't be there anyway, they'd just claw up the new comforter (I didn't have the heart to declaw them), we'd have cat fur everywhere, and, anyway, it will someday be a nursery, so the cats need to get used to not being allowed to sleep in there. That it's not really "their" room. So, the door was shut.
The door faces our bedroom door, so every morning after I wake up, I see the closed door facing me, reminding me that my hope for a baby is, for the present, as inaccesible to me as this room is to the cat. It symbolizes the stubborness of my body to cooperate, the fact that my shitty Fallopian tube portal is also blocked off. It glares at me, accusingly, saying "Hey, where's the baby you promised me? You painted me yellow, refinished the floor, but there's no crib-what the FUCK!?". The closed door nags at me that time is ticking away, that my biological clock will wait only so long, that I need to GET ON THE BALL and make decisions.
I hate that fucking door. Every time I pass it, on my way down the stairs, I want to kick it and tell it to piss off.
But, for now, it's a necessary evil to live with, just like my crappy tubes. For how long, only time and fate will tell.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Old 200th
Hey, this is my 200th post! Whod've thought, right?
So, in honor of that, I added some goodies to the sidebar of my blog-I made an account with Bravenet and went a-downloading. So, post your pin there and let yourself be known!
I decided to call my regular gyno (also known as the "twatologist") to get a copy of all my records-I'll get both his and Dr. Vest's all in one shot. Yeah, I'm a wimp, but so be it. Then I just need to call IRMS to get an appointment-I'll ask my gyno which RE he recommends seeing (there are three, all women-whee!). I really don't want to put it off any more than I have to....
On the reproductive front, I've been having some pains in my ovarian region-last night it was pretty uncomfortable, like a throbbing ache that came and went (heh, I said "throbbing"-too bad it ain' t porn!) on both sides. I'm still a bit sore today as well. It makes me wonder if I have a cyst or two-apparently it's pretty common after you take fertility drugs, and you get pain in the second half of your cycle. If it still hurts I'll call the regular gyno on Monday to see what's up. It also makes me wonder if there isn't something else that's going on in the soupy mess that's my reproductive system-I guess that's what the lap would find out, right?
Jaysus, I must be bored today-I'm actually watching "Dancing with the Stars" and, well, LIKING IT. Shit. What's next-reality TV? Blech.
Happy Friday everyone-don't forget to put a pin in!
So, in honor of that, I added some goodies to the sidebar of my blog-I made an account with Bravenet and went a-downloading. So, post your pin there and let yourself be known!
I decided to call my regular gyno (also known as the "twatologist") to get a copy of all my records-I'll get both his and Dr. Vest's all in one shot. Yeah, I'm a wimp, but so be it. Then I just need to call IRMS to get an appointment-I'll ask my gyno which RE he recommends seeing (there are three, all women-whee!). I really don't want to put it off any more than I have to....
On the reproductive front, I've been having some pains in my ovarian region-last night it was pretty uncomfortable, like a throbbing ache that came and went (heh, I said "throbbing"-too bad it ain' t porn!) on both sides. I'm still a bit sore today as well. It makes me wonder if I have a cyst or two-apparently it's pretty common after you take fertility drugs, and you get pain in the second half of your cycle. If it still hurts I'll call the regular gyno on Monday to see what's up. It also makes me wonder if there isn't something else that's going on in the soupy mess that's my reproductive system-I guess that's what the lap would find out, right?
Jaysus, I must be bored today-I'm actually watching "Dancing with the Stars" and, well, LIKING IT. Shit. What's next-reality TV? Blech.
Happy Friday everyone-don't forget to put a pin in!
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Monkey Wrench
Well, I've decided to get a second opinion on doing the laparoscopy. It isn't that I don't trust my doctor (I do), but perhaps, after two failed fresh cycles and a failed FET, it's time to move on to a bigger clinic with more resources. It makes me sad, in a way-it would be nice to be successful with Dr. Vest, considering all we've been through. But realistically, we only have two more chances for this to succeed without having to pay for the entire cycle, so we have to make this count. So now I have to get my records in able to make an appointment.
Sounds easy, right? Nope. I'm a wimp. I don't want to offend anyone or have bad feelings, so I asked Nursey P if I could get a copy to send to my regular gyno (which isn't a total lie, really-they DID ask me to get a copy for them of my treatment plan). Nursey P had told me that she would find out how much the copying costs would be, and she wold let me know. I also had to submit a letter to them to release the records to me (on Nursey P's recommendation).
So, last Friday I called the office to follow up, since I hadn't heard anything. Guess what? Nursey P said that Dr. Vest told her to just copy the relevent info and mail it out to my gyno directly--FUCK! Fuckfuckedyfuck. So, now I have to either a.) Call my gyno and get a copy of my records or b.) Call Nursey P back and see if they'll send me a copy as well.
I might just call my gyno-I mean, they probably need some of those records as well. I have copies of my records from my first RE, who did the initial IF workup, so that's not a problem. I don't really want to get into trying to call the RE's office-what if I go for the second opinion and still decide to stay with Dr. Vest? Then I would be afraid that they would be all weird with me because I doubted the doctor's treatment plan (yeah, I know that it's really overthinking, but I tend to be overly sensitive to other's feelings-it's the Libra in me coming out).
Sigh-even something as simple as this has to be a big production. Why can't anything be easy for me?
Sounds easy, right? Nope. I'm a wimp. I don't want to offend anyone or have bad feelings, so I asked Nursey P if I could get a copy to send to my regular gyno (which isn't a total lie, really-they DID ask me to get a copy for them of my treatment plan). Nursey P had told me that she would find out how much the copying costs would be, and she wold let me know. I also had to submit a letter to them to release the records to me (on Nursey P's recommendation).
So, last Friday I called the office to follow up, since I hadn't heard anything. Guess what? Nursey P said that Dr. Vest told her to just copy the relevent info and mail it out to my gyno directly--FUCK! Fuckfuckedyfuck. So, now I have to either a.) Call my gyno and get a copy of my records or b.) Call Nursey P back and see if they'll send me a copy as well.
I might just call my gyno-I mean, they probably need some of those records as well. I have copies of my records from my first RE, who did the initial IF workup, so that's not a problem. I don't really want to get into trying to call the RE's office-what if I go for the second opinion and still decide to stay with Dr. Vest? Then I would be afraid that they would be all weird with me because I doubted the doctor's treatment plan (yeah, I know that it's really overthinking, but I tend to be overly sensitive to other's feelings-it's the Libra in me coming out).
Sigh-even something as simple as this has to be a big production. Why can't anything be easy for me?
Monday, January 16, 2006
Argh!
Okay, I did do something productive today; besides going to the supermarket, that is. I finally added some more blogs to my list that I've been reading (lurking?) for awhile now. I also want to apologize profusely for not commenting on other's blogs-it is something that will be rectified from here on in.......now that I've got my shit together.
My blog is starting to bore me, so I'm off to find a new and improved template. If anyone out there has expertise in blog design (or knows someone who is) and can help me, I'd greatly appreciate it.....
My blog is starting to bore me, so I'm off to find a new and improved template. If anyone out there has expertise in blog design (or knows someone who is) and can help me, I'd greatly appreciate it.....
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Mittelschmerz
For the past few days I've been getting my usual mid-cycle pain in the abdomen that signifies the monthly onset of another lovely egg being released from one of my ovaries. I am one of those 20% of women that gets pain (or "mittelschmerz"-mid-cycle pain) around the time of ovulation. Of course, it's great in the sense that at least I know that I'm ovulating, but it's also a huge, if you'll pardon my French, dicktease from an IF standpoint.
That pain-well, to tell the truth, it's really not that painful, just an achiness-tells me that, no matter how many times we have baby-making sex (and, let's face it, baby-making sex, or any sex for that matter, ain't as good as it was way back in those pre-TTC days), that the chances of it actually working are nil. Which is pretty fucking depressing, really. My body is saying to me, "Hey.........HEY..........guess what......I'm OVULAAAAAATING! Where's the fricking sperm?" To which I reply ,"Hey, don't ask me, talk to those stupid gummed-up tubes that are right next to you-they're fucking everthing up".
And, the sad thing is, even though I have a snowball's chance in hell of ever conceiving "naturally" and I know it's not going to work, every time I feel the pain I'm still "doing the deed" and hoping against hope that maybe a few of those swimmers will make it down the 90-car pileup that is my Fallopian highway and hit the jackpot. Why do I make myself crazy? Why go on hoping, when, realistically, I know that I have a better chance of getting hit by a Mack truck?
I think it's because hope (delusional thoughts?) is one of the few things that I have left to call my own. Infertility robs you of so much-your privacy, dignity, intimacy with your partner-and fills you with knowledge that you don't want to know. It takes away that blissful ignorance that most fertile women have about the process of reproduction. But, for some reason, even though infertility took all that away from me (and then some), it didn't banish that bitch Hope completely. Perhaps it's because I allow myself to hope, despite the shitty things that I've been through. Perhaps it's because I know, if I didn't let myself hope, I'd be a right fucking mess and probably in a locked ward somewhere, waiting for my meds.
So, despite the knowledge that the odds are reproductively against me, we still humped like rabbits this week. And, it's all because of hope.
Either that, or it's the fact that I'm addicted to trying to conceive-once you start, you can't stop yourself. It's like crack.
Addiction or Hope of Conception-you decide.
That pain-well, to tell the truth, it's really not that painful, just an achiness-tells me that, no matter how many times we have baby-making sex (and, let's face it, baby-making sex, or any sex for that matter, ain't as good as it was way back in those pre-TTC days), that the chances of it actually working are nil. Which is pretty fucking depressing, really. My body is saying to me, "Hey.........HEY..........guess what......I'm OVULAAAAAATING! Where's the fricking sperm?" To which I reply ,"Hey, don't ask me, talk to those stupid gummed-up tubes that are right next to you-they're fucking everthing up".
And, the sad thing is, even though I have a snowball's chance in hell of ever conceiving "naturally" and I know it's not going to work, every time I feel the pain I'm still "doing the deed" and hoping against hope that maybe a few of those swimmers will make it down the 90-car pileup that is my Fallopian highway and hit the jackpot. Why do I make myself crazy? Why go on hoping, when, realistically, I know that I have a better chance of getting hit by a Mack truck?
I think it's because hope (delusional thoughts?) is one of the few things that I have left to call my own. Infertility robs you of so much-your privacy, dignity, intimacy with your partner-and fills you with knowledge that you don't want to know. It takes away that blissful ignorance that most fertile women have about the process of reproduction. But, for some reason, even though infertility took all that away from me (and then some), it didn't banish that bitch Hope completely. Perhaps it's because I allow myself to hope, despite the shitty things that I've been through. Perhaps it's because I know, if I didn't let myself hope, I'd be a right fucking mess and probably in a locked ward somewhere, waiting for my meds.
So, despite the knowledge that the odds are reproductively against me, we still humped like rabbits this week. And, it's all because of hope.
Either that, or it's the fact that I'm addicted to trying to conceive-once you start, you can't stop yourself. It's like crack.
Addiction or Hope of Conception-you decide.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
I *heart* my laptop
Oh, my lovely laptop, I've been ignoring you this past week. Please forgive me for neglecting you, not taking you to school every day, not using you at night, but it wasn't intentional, really it wasn't.
Okay, perhaps it was intentional. Deal with it.
Just accept my apology and know that I've resolved to use you more frequently, as my sanity seems to depend on it. Especially when I've got to poop and can take you into the bathroom with me (with your wonderful wireless connection). It giveth you a new nickname in our household-"Crap-top"-bestowed on you by the sort of jealous hubby who realizes, for the first time, that being able to pee standing up does have its disadvantages.
Of course, I can't totally ignore the hubby, mind you, so I'll have to share. He does get jealous of our "relationship", you know. When I visit with you too often he starts to call you "Crack-top", and I know that it hurts your feelings. Don't be angry with him, please. He just wants sex and conversation, and he knows that, in those areas, he's at a distinct advantage. We need to all "play nicely" and get along.
Now that we've got that all out into the open, I'll sign off now. My left leg has fallen asleep because I've been sitting here too long and I need to get up and flush the toilet.
Smooches to you, dear lovely bamboo-green covered laptop. Have a nice nap.
Okay, perhaps it was intentional. Deal with it.
Just accept my apology and know that I've resolved to use you more frequently, as my sanity seems to depend on it. Especially when I've got to poop and can take you into the bathroom with me (with your wonderful wireless connection). It giveth you a new nickname in our household-"Crap-top"-bestowed on you by the sort of jealous hubby who realizes, for the first time, that being able to pee standing up does have its disadvantages.
Of course, I can't totally ignore the hubby, mind you, so I'll have to share. He does get jealous of our "relationship", you know. When I visit with you too often he starts to call you "Crack-top", and I know that it hurts your feelings. Don't be angry with him, please. He just wants sex and conversation, and he knows that, in those areas, he's at a distinct advantage. We need to all "play nicely" and get along.
Now that we've got that all out into the open, I'll sign off now. My left leg has fallen asleep because I've been sitting here too long and I need to get up and flush the toilet.
Smooches to you, dear lovely bamboo-green covered laptop. Have a nice nap.
Friday, January 06, 2006
Post-Holidays Blech
I'm not a big fan of January, I've decided.
January is one of those months that seems like a total letdown to me, after Christmas and Thanksgiving. It's cold and gray outside, there's nothing really going on (well, except for NYC Restaurant Week-yummy) and all I want to do is sleep.
I stepped on the scale today (the last time I did that was after my retrieval, when I had to monitor my weight daily for OHSS) and almost shit myself....10 lbs overweight...actually, if I had shit myself, perhaps it would have been a lesser number......heh.
I know that it isn't a lot of weight, in the grand scheme of things, but for me it feels like so much more, especially when your pants feel tight your belly is starting to hang over them, and it's not because you're pregnant. And, since I don't have the luxury of being able to splurge on a new wardrobe, it's time to lose the poundage and stop eating crap (and stop eating later at night). Sigh.........the whole process of losing weight just sucks.
Other than that, it's a blech kind of day. I'm just happy to be home from work and able to relax for a bit. Tomorrow we're having Lil' Man and The Dementor, and Sean's dad and girlfriend over for dinner, and I still have no idea what I'm making. I'm kind of not into having a big dinner party, but Sean wanted to.........plus, it won't be that bad, unless The Dementor starts acting all weird and then I'd have to poke my own eyes out with a rusty butter knife.
Or drink my face off.........that sounds like a much better option, right?
January is one of those months that seems like a total letdown to me, after Christmas and Thanksgiving. It's cold and gray outside, there's nothing really going on (well, except for NYC Restaurant Week-yummy) and all I want to do is sleep.
I stepped on the scale today (the last time I did that was after my retrieval, when I had to monitor my weight daily for OHSS) and almost shit myself....10 lbs overweight...actually, if I had shit myself, perhaps it would have been a lesser number......heh.
I know that it isn't a lot of weight, in the grand scheme of things, but for me it feels like so much more, especially when your pants feel tight your belly is starting to hang over them, and it's not because you're pregnant. And, since I don't have the luxury of being able to splurge on a new wardrobe, it's time to lose the poundage and stop eating crap (and stop eating later at night). Sigh.........the whole process of losing weight just sucks.
Other than that, it's a blech kind of day. I'm just happy to be home from work and able to relax for a bit. Tomorrow we're having Lil' Man and The Dementor, and Sean's dad and girlfriend over for dinner, and I still have no idea what I'm making. I'm kind of not into having a big dinner party, but Sean wanted to.........plus, it won't be that bad, unless The Dementor starts acting all weird and then I'd have to poke my own eyes out with a rusty butter knife.
Or drink my face off.........that sounds like a much better option, right?
Monday, January 02, 2006
Yappy Hew Near, or What I did on my Winter Break
The party went well, considering that, only twenty minutes before the first guests arrived, my house looked like the stock room of a retail store. Everyone ate, drank, and was merry. As for me, I sort of ate, didn't feel like drinking (except for the Piper and Veuve Cliquot that was brought by some thoughtful guests), and felt anything but merry. In fact, I was feeling quite happy to see the back of the year 2005-to me, the past year was generally shitty. I mean, two failed IVF attempts, a bout of OHSS, a surgery and a miscarriage doesn't add up to a great year. Whether or not 2006 ends up being a better year is yet to be seen. I hope it does, for the sake of my marriage and my sanity, because if I have to go through another year like the past one I'll end up insane, broke and divorced, probably. Better than sticky, broke and confused, right?
So, I basically fucked around (no, not fucked, but you'll see why in a minute) all week, in between frantic bouts of running to the Mikasa outlet as our guest list grew from 7 to 12. I watched a LOT of TV (successfully staying away from "A Baby Story"), alternated between wearing my pj's and sweats, ate really shitty food, and acted like a bitch. Why, do you ask? Well, I was waiting (and waiting, and WAITING) for my period to show up, the lazy bitch. And, no, I didn't think for one minute that I was pregnant--silly wabbit, you actually have to HAVE SEX to get pregnant! Holy shit, I can't remember the last time I did that......let's just say that I haven't been feeling my sexiest lately-it must be the terry-cloth bathrobe I've been living in. Anywho..... I thought that I had gotten it on Friday (after 40 days of torture, bloating, mood swings and the lovely appearance of acne), but alas, it was just a tease. I actually, finally, did become the lucky recipient of Aunt Flo's charms last night, along with a door prize of major clotting and cramping. I'm not usually a whiner when it comes to my cycle-in fact, I must say that, apart from the occasional crappy cycle, I'm as regular as a stopwatch. Anyway, the cramping was pretty bad last night, bad enough that I had to take a Tylenol with Codeine, crashed, and didn't wake up until almost 11 this morning.
Tomorrow I get to go back to school, which is good and bad. Good in the sense that I need to get back into the groove, but I'm a lazy bitch and sort of like being home...sigh...if only Sean could make a gazillion dollars and I could stay home.....but that ain't likely to happen.
Tomorrow also starts my "eating better so I can wear a bathing suit on vacation without shame" campaign, as well as my "let's get a second opinion on my infertility treatment" plan. I was supposed to call Nursey P to see about getting a copy of my medical records today, but I totally slacked off (okay, I watched Star Wars Episode III, but who's asking, right?) and forgot, so now I have to call tomorrow and get them sent to me. Actually, I'm curious to see what's in them-you learn a lot by looking at all that doctor speak, assuming that you can decipher the required bad handwriting (they must have a class on that in med school). Hopefully I can lose the weight before I decide on when to do the laparoscopy.
Yes, I decided to do the lap-why the fuck not? I've done everything else, why not that too? Whether I stay with Dr. Vest or go with a bigger, more renowned clinic (which, through my insurance, I now have access to) is something that I need to work out. I will go for a second opinion, probably at IRMS at St. Barnabas. I've been thinking about it, and, with two failed cycles using the same protocol, it might be time for a change. But, I think that I'd do the surgery the end of May/beginning of June sometime, then hopefully be able to cycle shortly after that. Then again, there might be the slim chance that a lap might be able to open one of my tubes, depending on how bad the damage is in there-if that's the case I might be able to try the "old-fashioned way" for a while first. Wouldn't that be a nice change?
Let's face it, a change of any kind in that department would be welcome right about now.
Hopefully everyone out there in BlogLandia enjoyed their holidays. May the New Year bring joy, peace and balance to all of us, no matter what may happen.
So, I basically fucked around (no, not fucked, but you'll see why in a minute) all week, in between frantic bouts of running to the Mikasa outlet as our guest list grew from 7 to 12. I watched a LOT of TV (successfully staying away from "A Baby Story"), alternated between wearing my pj's and sweats, ate really shitty food, and acted like a bitch. Why, do you ask? Well, I was waiting (and waiting, and WAITING) for my period to show up, the lazy bitch. And, no, I didn't think for one minute that I was pregnant--silly wabbit, you actually have to HAVE SEX to get pregnant! Holy shit, I can't remember the last time I did that......let's just say that I haven't been feeling my sexiest lately-it must be the terry-cloth bathrobe I've been living in. Anywho..... I thought that I had gotten it on Friday (after 40 days of torture, bloating, mood swings and the lovely appearance of acne), but alas, it was just a tease. I actually, finally, did become the lucky recipient of Aunt Flo's charms last night, along with a door prize of major clotting and cramping. I'm not usually a whiner when it comes to my cycle-in fact, I must say that, apart from the occasional crappy cycle, I'm as regular as a stopwatch. Anyway, the cramping was pretty bad last night, bad enough that I had to take a Tylenol with Codeine, crashed, and didn't wake up until almost 11 this morning.
Tomorrow I get to go back to school, which is good and bad. Good in the sense that I need to get back into the groove, but I'm a lazy bitch and sort of like being home...sigh...if only Sean could make a gazillion dollars and I could stay home.....but that ain't likely to happen.
Tomorrow also starts my "eating better so I can wear a bathing suit on vacation without shame" campaign, as well as my "let's get a second opinion on my infertility treatment" plan. I was supposed to call Nursey P to see about getting a copy of my medical records today, but I totally slacked off (okay, I watched Star Wars Episode III, but who's asking, right?) and forgot, so now I have to call tomorrow and get them sent to me. Actually, I'm curious to see what's in them-you learn a lot by looking at all that doctor speak, assuming that you can decipher the required bad handwriting (they must have a class on that in med school). Hopefully I can lose the weight before I decide on when to do the laparoscopy.
Yes, I decided to do the lap-why the fuck not? I've done everything else, why not that too? Whether I stay with Dr. Vest or go with a bigger, more renowned clinic (which, through my insurance, I now have access to) is something that I need to work out. I will go for a second opinion, probably at IRMS at St. Barnabas. I've been thinking about it, and, with two failed cycles using the same protocol, it might be time for a change. But, I think that I'd do the surgery the end of May/beginning of June sometime, then hopefully be able to cycle shortly after that. Then again, there might be the slim chance that a lap might be able to open one of my tubes, depending on how bad the damage is in there-if that's the case I might be able to try the "old-fashioned way" for a while first. Wouldn't that be a nice change?
Let's face it, a change of any kind in that department would be welcome right about now.
Hopefully everyone out there in BlogLandia enjoyed their holidays. May the New Year bring joy, peace and balance to all of us, no matter what may happen.
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