Let's see:
I slept until 9am. Felt good.
Checked the panties to make sure that there was no bleeding-all clear!
Called M-she went to the Duran Duran concert last night with Sexy Josh and had a good time (BITCH-I am so jealous!). Tonight Sexy Josh is taking her to "One if by Land, Two if by Sea" (very schwenky NYC restaurant) to celebrate her divorce from Fuckwad being final (woot!). I told her, after the weekend she's had with him, she'd better do some heavy petting, at the least. I like Sexy Josh-he's so nice and treats her like a queen, which she deserves. Made plans to go have lunch and yummy smoothies this afternoon.
Sean made me breakfast this morning-pancakes and sausages, with decaf coffee. Took the last Medrol prescription and my gassy-biotic, along with the prescription prenatal vitamins Nice Nursey gave me yesterday (a 2 week sample supply).
Watched some of the "Changing Rooms" marathon on BBC America. Got tired of seeing Laurence Llewellyn-Bowen flipping his long hair back, pushing up his flouncy cuffs and espousing the virtues of using "scumble glaze" (whatever the fuck that is). Laughed at the screen when the woman saw her room, started crying, and said that she hated it. Serves you right, idiot.
Went back to bed, read, then took a nap.
Woke up at 1pm-holy shit! Didn't expect that!
Called M-cancelled plans. Was too lazy to get out of bed, or my pj's.
Played on the 'puter. Tried to look up how long a 6-day blastocyst takes to implant into the uterus. Couldn't find SQUAT on the subject. Fuck.
Laid on the couch and tried to watch a movie-couldn't keep my attention on it.
Peed a million times. Marveled at the fact that my pee is now the color of a lemon (due to the prenatals, 'natch). Pushed the obsessive thought from my head that maybe, just maybe, it's a sign of pregnancy (way too early).
Convinced Sean that it would be so much better to go out for dinner tonight rather than try to cook (hibachi-yummy! But, no sushi for me-boo).
Back on the 'puter. Played "Text Twist" and called the monitor a "hairy fucking twat" every time I lost.
And, here I am.
One day down, only nine or so more to go until beta day (I'm gonna try to make the beta earlier).
And, yes-I still hate waiting.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Saturday, July 30, 2005
P.U.P.O.
Transfer day went, amazingly, very smoothly.
I got to the clinic at 9:30 sharp. Unfortunately, I had to wait an hour until I went downstairs to the area that they do the transfers/retrievals. Because it was a Saturday, they were short staffed, so there was only one nurse there today doing everything (she was very nice, btw). Not fun when you have a full bladder. But, Dr. Vest came to check on me twice and let me know that everything looked okay.
I love Dr. Vest, by the way. He can be a little scatterbrained at times, but he is so attentive to his patients. I especially notice this at the clinic he uses, because the RE's there are very wham-bam-thankyou-ma'am kind of people. They're not very friendly to their patients.
The embryologist had to defrost all three of my embryos, because they were frozen together in "straws" of three, and he was supposed to re-freeze one (yeah, you can do that-cool, huh?) and do Assisted Hatching on the other two (where they put a small hole, with a laser, into the shell of the embryo to help it "hatch" out and implant easier). Unfortunately, the third embie didn't survive the thaw, which means, if this doesn't work, we have to start all over again with surgery, injections and retrievals, which sucks. But, perhaps that is what's meant to be-if it didn't survive the thaw who would've said that it would survive in the womb?
They prepped me, and brought me into the room. I expected to be in the operating room, which was where I was the last time, but was taken instead to a "transfer room", which looked like an ordinary exam room. I realized then that because I had such bad OHSS, they had to do it in the OR because they had to drain the fluid out of my abdomen first. Silly me. I forgot. But, I digress.
They get me draped and settled down on the table, and Dr. Vest comes in. He tells me that it won't hurt (yeah, riiiight, I've heard THAT before) . They had to do a "run-through" with inserting the catheter into my uterus, which I totally didn't feel (yay, he was right!). Then the embryologist came in with the catheter containing my blastocysts, and Dr. Vest inserted them in and whoosh-done! No problems, no pain, nuttin. The nice nursey puts me on a stretcher and brings me back to my bed, where I relaxed and read for an hour, then left. I've been a little crampy since then, but nothing extremely painful, just like something's been poked at down there. Then again, it's probably due to the metal speculum he used, with no lube (apparently, lube can damage the embies)-yeah, can you say OUCH.
So it seems like today was the easiest part. Now the dreaded two week wait (2WW) has begun. Although, it shouldn't be two weeks, maybe only 9 days or so, since I'm already five days past ovulation (5DPO). They told me to come in for a beta pregnancy test on 8/12, but I'll call Nursey P on Monday to make sure that's right, because it doesn't add up. I just have to resist the urge to obsess over every single twinge and resist peeing on anything that's not nailed down.
Did I mention I hate waiting?
I'm going to assume that I'm Pregnant Until Proved Otherwise (P.U.P.O. for short), because it's better on my mental state. I'm trying to stay positive and just take it easy. At this point, it's either gonna happen, or not.
But, I have a feeling that it will be a hard-fought battle.
I got to the clinic at 9:30 sharp. Unfortunately, I had to wait an hour until I went downstairs to the area that they do the transfers/retrievals. Because it was a Saturday, they were short staffed, so there was only one nurse there today doing everything (she was very nice, btw). Not fun when you have a full bladder. But, Dr. Vest came to check on me twice and let me know that everything looked okay.
I love Dr. Vest, by the way. He can be a little scatterbrained at times, but he is so attentive to his patients. I especially notice this at the clinic he uses, because the RE's there are very wham-bam-thankyou-ma'am kind of people. They're not very friendly to their patients.
The embryologist had to defrost all three of my embryos, because they were frozen together in "straws" of three, and he was supposed to re-freeze one (yeah, you can do that-cool, huh?) and do Assisted Hatching on the other two (where they put a small hole, with a laser, into the shell of the embryo to help it "hatch" out and implant easier). Unfortunately, the third embie didn't survive the thaw, which means, if this doesn't work, we have to start all over again with surgery, injections and retrievals, which sucks. But, perhaps that is what's meant to be-if it didn't survive the thaw who would've said that it would survive in the womb?
They prepped me, and brought me into the room. I expected to be in the operating room, which was where I was the last time, but was taken instead to a "transfer room", which looked like an ordinary exam room. I realized then that because I had such bad OHSS, they had to do it in the OR because they had to drain the fluid out of my abdomen first. Silly me. I forgot. But, I digress.
They get me draped and settled down on the table, and Dr. Vest comes in. He tells me that it won't hurt (yeah, riiiight, I've heard THAT before) . They had to do a "run-through" with inserting the catheter into my uterus, which I totally didn't feel (yay, he was right!). Then the embryologist came in with the catheter containing my blastocysts, and Dr. Vest inserted them in and whoosh-done! No problems, no pain, nuttin. The nice nursey puts me on a stretcher and brings me back to my bed, where I relaxed and read for an hour, then left. I've been a little crampy since then, but nothing extremely painful, just like something's been poked at down there. Then again, it's probably due to the metal speculum he used, with no lube (apparently, lube can damage the embies)-yeah, can you say OUCH.
So it seems like today was the easiest part. Now the dreaded two week wait (2WW) has begun. Although, it shouldn't be two weeks, maybe only 9 days or so, since I'm already five days past ovulation (5DPO). They told me to come in for a beta pregnancy test on 8/12, but I'll call Nursey P on Monday to make sure that's right, because it doesn't add up. I just have to resist the urge to obsess over every single twinge and resist peeing on anything that's not nailed down.
Did I mention I hate waiting?
I'm going to assume that I'm Pregnant Until Proved Otherwise (P.U.P.O. for short), because it's better on my mental state. I'm trying to stay positive and just take it easy. At this point, it's either gonna happen, or not.
But, I have a feeling that it will be a hard-fought battle.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Mission Accomplished!
I finally got the bitchy lady at the clinic on the phone this morning. She tells me that she "didn't have a chance to look into" my phone call yet (in a snotty tone)-wtf?. What-EVER. She told me that the letter was the breakdown of charges that the insurance company is being billed, and it is just for my reference. Perhaps they should state that in the letter, instead of saying that they want you to sign something that says "I/We understand that I/we are responsible financially for the following procedures." Doesn't sound like it's a summary for the insurance company, does it? Pa-leeze. And, unfortunately, people who aren't on top of things (ie. anally retentive like me) would pay the clinic directly and maybe get reimbursed when the clinic reconciles their books. Hey, she told me that I didn't have to cough up any $$, so that's okey-dokey with me!
So, tomorrow's the big day. I'm starting to freak out a little bit......okay, a lot of bit. I just don't want to get there and be told that sorry, none of the embryos survived, too bad. I think that I would have to be admitted into the psych ward. Not to mention, the Medrol and Doxycycline are doing a number on my lower digestive tract-holy SHIT, the GAS! And the pooping situation ain't much better (sorry if it's TMI, but it's unfortunately part of the deal-so get over it). Urgh. Plus my stomach hurts and I'm bloating a bit-I realized it last night as I put on the petticoat that goes with my costume, and I couldn't button it around my waist (and that's with a corset on underneath!)-sheesh. I just need to suck it up and deal.
We had some major drama last night at the show-I really can't write about it now, as it still upsets me every time I think about it, but suffice it to say that it's serious. And not just the usual "Di-VA is acting like an asshole/who fucked up" kind of thing. I will write about it more later on today, when I can sort of talk about it more.
T-minus 23 hours to transfer.
I'm not being too obsessive about this, am I?
So, tomorrow's the big day. I'm starting to freak out a little bit......okay, a lot of bit. I just don't want to get there and be told that sorry, none of the embryos survived, too bad. I think that I would have to be admitted into the psych ward. Not to mention, the Medrol and Doxycycline are doing a number on my lower digestive tract-holy SHIT, the GAS! And the pooping situation ain't much better (sorry if it's TMI, but it's unfortunately part of the deal-so get over it). Urgh. Plus my stomach hurts and I'm bloating a bit-I realized it last night as I put on the petticoat that goes with my costume, and I couldn't button it around my waist (and that's with a corset on underneath!)-sheesh. I just need to suck it up and deal.
We had some major drama last night at the show-I really can't write about it now, as it still upsets me every time I think about it, but suffice it to say that it's serious. And not just the usual "Di-VA is acting like an asshole/who fucked up" kind of thing. I will write about it more later on today, when I can sort of talk about it more.
T-minus 23 hours to transfer.
I'm not being too obsessive about this, am I?
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Why Can't People get their Heads out of their Asses?
Today certainly seems like the day that people are getting the insurance shaft. Cat mentioned in her blog today that she's been dealing with half-assed insurance reps and admins in the RE's office all week, so I think that it's contagious or something. Dealing with insurance and dim-witted personnel really sends me over the edge-granted, Cat's drama has been a week-long event (sorry, girl-I hope it straightens out for you), and mine just a day-outing in comparison, but I've been there in the past, and it really blows.
I got a letter in the mail yesterday from the IF clinic that Dr. Vest uses for procedures (a pretty well-known one here in NJ) giving a breakdown of the prices for my FET, and "requiring" me to sign the forms and leave a copy of my credit card on the day of the procedure to process the charges on. Huh? I've got insurance, we've got a mandate for infertility coverage in NJ-wtf? Plus, I don't have $5300 in my bank account just waiting to be spent-if I had that much money, sorry to say, my first thought wouldn't be "hey, let's spend it on infertility!". Needless to say, I wasn't a happy camper when I read that
Since my district conveniently changed my insurance coverage as of 7/1 (from Oxford to Horizon Blue Cross/Blue Shield) and also quite conveniently forgot to send me a benefits book, I had to call the insurance company to go through my benefits. The first rep I got on the phone was obviously new. The reason I could tell was because they constantly put you on hold to "check" on something (ie. checking with a more experienced rep) before they give you a definite answer (I know this because I was once one of those inexperienced reps-I worked in a customer service call center for health insurance for about 7 years). So, just because I've been burned before, I explain the need for exact wording and ask to speak to a senior rep or a supervisor, who she transfers me to.
The senior rep was very pleasant. She went through everything covered, and even went through everything the clinic sent me, saying it was all covered under the mandate. I asked her for something in writing, and she regretfully (or so I interpreted) tells me that she can't mail or fax anything, but sets up something in the computer and gives me a reference number, telling me that I could give it to the clinic as verification (it documented my call and what the rep told me).
I called the board of ed office and spoke to the payroll person, asking what happened to my book. She tells me that I should have gotten one at the benefits meeting. I tell her that we were told that we were not required to go to the benefits meeting, unless we had specific questions. So I ask her to send me a book, and she says that I can pick it up at the central office. *grumble*. It's really not a big deal (it's three blocks from my house), but it's the principle of it. Bitch.
Finally, I call the clinic back, trying to get the collections manager on the phone, who is a real bitch on wheels. I've dealt with her before (on the whole cryopreservation thing) and she just isn't nice AT ALL. I know that it's her job and all, but, she's dealing with women who are, for the most part, pumped up on hormones. I'm surprised that she hasn't had her life threatened, car keyed or tires slashed yet. Of course, she was on the phone, so I leave a voicemail message (which she tends to not respond to) stating that I got her letter, spoke to my insurance and that I had some questions. That was almost three hours ago. I seriously doubt that she stays past 5 o'clock. Which means that the drama will pick up again tomorrow morning.
The FET is scheduled for 9:30 EST on July 30th, barring any insurance or thawing issues.
Only 40 and a half hours to go. I hate waiting.
I got a letter in the mail yesterday from the IF clinic that Dr. Vest uses for procedures (a pretty well-known one here in NJ) giving a breakdown of the prices for my FET, and "requiring" me to sign the forms and leave a copy of my credit card on the day of the procedure to process the charges on. Huh? I've got insurance, we've got a mandate for infertility coverage in NJ-wtf? Plus, I don't have $5300 in my bank account just waiting to be spent-if I had that much money, sorry to say, my first thought wouldn't be "hey, let's spend it on infertility!". Needless to say, I wasn't a happy camper when I read that
Since my district conveniently changed my insurance coverage as of 7/1 (from Oxford to Horizon Blue Cross/Blue Shield) and also quite conveniently forgot to send me a benefits book, I had to call the insurance company to go through my benefits. The first rep I got on the phone was obviously new. The reason I could tell was because they constantly put you on hold to "check" on something (ie. checking with a more experienced rep) before they give you a definite answer (I know this because I was once one of those inexperienced reps-I worked in a customer service call center for health insurance for about 7 years). So, just because I've been burned before, I explain the need for exact wording and ask to speak to a senior rep or a supervisor, who she transfers me to.
The senior rep was very pleasant. She went through everything covered, and even went through everything the clinic sent me, saying it was all covered under the mandate. I asked her for something in writing, and she regretfully (or so I interpreted) tells me that she can't mail or fax anything, but sets up something in the computer and gives me a reference number, telling me that I could give it to the clinic as verification (it documented my call and what the rep told me).
I called the board of ed office and spoke to the payroll person, asking what happened to my book. She tells me that I should have gotten one at the benefits meeting. I tell her that we were told that we were not required to go to the benefits meeting, unless we had specific questions. So I ask her to send me a book, and she says that I can pick it up at the central office. *grumble*. It's really not a big deal (it's three blocks from my house), but it's the principle of it. Bitch.
Finally, I call the clinic back, trying to get the collections manager on the phone, who is a real bitch on wheels. I've dealt with her before (on the whole cryopreservation thing) and she just isn't nice AT ALL. I know that it's her job and all, but, she's dealing with women who are, for the most part, pumped up on hormones. I'm surprised that she hasn't had her life threatened, car keyed or tires slashed yet. Of course, she was on the phone, so I leave a voicemail message (which she tends to not respond to) stating that I got her letter, spoke to my insurance and that I had some questions. That was almost three hours ago. I seriously doubt that she stays past 5 o'clock. Which means that the drama will pick up again tomorrow morning.
The FET is scheduled for 9:30 EST on July 30th, barring any insurance or thawing issues.
Only 40 and a half hours to go. I hate waiting.
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
More news
Nursey P from Dr. Vest's office called just now.
The FET is scheduled for sometime on Saturday, July 30th. I start taking the Medrol and the gassy-biotic on Thursday, in preperation for the transfer.
Holy shit.
It's really happening.
Please God, let it work.
The FET is scheduled for sometime on Saturday, July 30th. I start taking the Medrol and the gassy-biotic on Thursday, in preperation for the transfer.
Holy shit.
It's really happening.
Please God, let it work.
And the winner is......
Here's the outcome of my callback for "The Pirates of Penzance" (or, as I lovingly call it-"Pirates in my Pants").....
I showed up for the callback, get my number (163) and pin it on my shirt, and wait. and wait. and wait.
Auditions are all about waiting. There's a funny dynamic in there-it's a psychoanalyst's dream situation. People are having mini-freakouts, or trying to name-drop so you can know how "important" and "talented" they are. I tend to bring a book or magazine and just read, and not bother with anyone-it's easier that way.
I finally go in to sing, and I didn't do that well. I ended up having to sight read the piece, since I don't know the show all that well. I was pissed off at myself, because I am usually much more prepared and didn't have the time, and went home to sulk. I am not even home a half-hour and the phone rings-it's the theatre. Oh, shit, I think, I'm cut.
I got the part. THE LEAD. HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIT.
If you're not a theatrical/singer type person, the role of Mabel is a BIG deal. HUGE deal. It's a really difficult part to sing, and Gilbert and Sullivan operetta's are horribly complicated to sing, but fun as hell.
Wow-I guess it goes to show you that things aren't always what you perceive them to be.
P.S. I got a "peak" on my handy-dandy ClearPlan monitor yesterday and today-life can't get better than this!
I showed up for the callback, get my number (163) and pin it on my shirt, and wait. and wait. and wait.
Auditions are all about waiting. There's a funny dynamic in there-it's a psychoanalyst's dream situation. People are having mini-freakouts, or trying to name-drop so you can know how "important" and "talented" they are. I tend to bring a book or magazine and just read, and not bother with anyone-it's easier that way.
I finally go in to sing, and I didn't do that well. I ended up having to sight read the piece, since I don't know the show all that well. I was pissed off at myself, because I am usually much more prepared and didn't have the time, and went home to sulk. I am not even home a half-hour and the phone rings-it's the theatre. Oh, shit, I think, I'm cut.
I got the part. THE LEAD. HOLY MOTHERFUCKING SHIT.
If you're not a theatrical/singer type person, the role of Mabel is a BIG deal. HUGE deal. It's a really difficult part to sing, and Gilbert and Sullivan operetta's are horribly complicated to sing, but fun as hell.
Wow-I guess it goes to show you that things aren't always what you perceive them to be.
P.S. I got a "peak" on my handy-dandy ClearPlan monitor yesterday and today-life can't get better than this!
Hope Springs Eternal
Shelli came to see my matinee on Sunday, then afterwards we proceeded to go and snarf on food and tear the show apart (including Di-VA-hee hee), which was fun-I'm glad you were there, girl!
So, here's the other thing thing that I was supposed to write about on Sunday night, after the show, but I was too damn tired to look at the frickin' computer at all.....
I went to an audition on Saturday afternoon, for "Pirates of Penzance" at a company called Phoenix Productions. They perform at the Count Basie Theatre in Red Bank, NJ, which is a beautiful space that was recently renovated and is a historical landmark (I think). I show up, sing my 16 bars, and expect to hear the usual "thank you", but behold! The producer tells me to come back in the afternoon for a callback for the principal role of Mabel (a HUGE role). Since I had about three hours or so to kill, I did what I think most people do when they're unfamiliar with their surroundings-I look for the closest Starbucks.
I find one (of course I did-this is America, right?), get my iced decaf, sit in a comfy chair and beat the heat of the day, trying not to wig out that they called me back for the part. On the way back to the theatre, I start browsing around main drag of Red Bank, and I see this new-age store, and I go in, just to browse (and beat the heat-it had to be 95 degrees outside). I see this sign hanging up saying "psychic fair", and I say to myself "well, why the hell not", and I sit down for a ten minute, $10 tarot reading.
Now, I want to preface this next part by saying that I am not usually one to believe in psychics, tarot or anything that predicts the future in any way. Not because I'm afraid of it, think that it's evil or anything like that, but because a lot of times these people are full of crap and tend to ask leading questions, or that people, in their desperation, want to grasp onto something. I personally do feel that there are people out there who do have a gift, but the quacks are unfortunately in the majority. Telling the future, to me, isn't always concrete and absolute-it's just one path your life will take, if you let it.
I sit before this woman, and I tell her my name. She asks me if there's anything that I want to specifically know or ask, and I say no (again, trying not to say too much), so off she goes with the cards.
After the first card is put down (and I have no recollection as to what it was) she asks me if I am a teacher, so I say yes. Then, after a few more cards are put down, she asks me if I am starting a new job or position, so I say no. She frowned, put a few more cards down, and asks me if I have any children, so I say no (again, not giving anything away). She then asks me if I want any children, and I answer "eventually", and she says that she sees me having children "very soon". Then she put more cards down, frowned again, and asked me if I have had problems conceiving in the past-she pointed out a particular card and said that it looks like I'm seeing a doctor for a problem, and that he will help me (yay, Dr. Vest!). I was still trying to be non-commital at this point, but with every card she put down, she kept repeating that the cards show triumph over adversity, that I will get what I want, and very soon. So, I finally admitted that I was seeing a doctor for infertility, and she said that (after putting a crystal over some of the cards) she sees me getting pregnant in the summertime, and that it will be only one (I didn't tell her anything about the FET). She turned over one more card, and said that this upcoming pregnancy is something that is predestined, from someone who has already passed on. But, she kept asking me if I had a job change coming up, or a promotion, and I said no. She told me that I will be offered an opportunity very soon, and that I should take it, and trust my gut (for what, I have no idea). So, I thanked her, gave her the $10 and then left.
It kind of freaked me out, especially since I was really being so non-committal about what she was saying, but of course, it brought up all the hopefulness that I've been feeling that maybe, somehow, this FET will result in a long-awaited pregnancy. And, it feels good to be positive, but also really scary-I'm not saying that I do or don't believe this woman-because I don't want to go through another cycle that ends up negative. It's worse when you do IVF or FET, because you're PUPO (pregnant until proved otherwise) and for me, it has been the closest I've ever come to being pregnant in my life.
Hope is a good thing. Hope always walks hand-in-hand with faith. Faith is what tries to get us all through the shitty times. Fear is what breaks the two apart. And I'm definitely scared-that it won't work, that the tot-sicles won't make the thawing process, that something will go wrong, that I will have a nervous breakdown if it doesn't work.
But I still have hope. And, for now, that's enough for me.
So, here's the other thing thing that I was supposed to write about on Sunday night, after the show, but I was too damn tired to look at the frickin' computer at all.....
I went to an audition on Saturday afternoon, for "Pirates of Penzance" at a company called Phoenix Productions. They perform at the Count Basie Theatre in Red Bank, NJ, which is a beautiful space that was recently renovated and is a historical landmark (I think). I show up, sing my 16 bars, and expect to hear the usual "thank you", but behold! The producer tells me to come back in the afternoon for a callback for the principal role of Mabel (a HUGE role). Since I had about three hours or so to kill, I did what I think most people do when they're unfamiliar with their surroundings-I look for the closest Starbucks.
I find one (of course I did-this is America, right?), get my iced decaf, sit in a comfy chair and beat the heat of the day, trying not to wig out that they called me back for the part. On the way back to the theatre, I start browsing around main drag of Red Bank, and I see this new-age store, and I go in, just to browse (and beat the heat-it had to be 95 degrees outside). I see this sign hanging up saying "psychic fair", and I say to myself "well, why the hell not", and I sit down for a ten minute, $10 tarot reading.
Now, I want to preface this next part by saying that I am not usually one to believe in psychics, tarot or anything that predicts the future in any way. Not because I'm afraid of it, think that it's evil or anything like that, but because a lot of times these people are full of crap and tend to ask leading questions, or that people, in their desperation, want to grasp onto something. I personally do feel that there are people out there who do have a gift, but the quacks are unfortunately in the majority. Telling the future, to me, isn't always concrete and absolute-it's just one path your life will take, if you let it.
I sit before this woman, and I tell her my name. She asks me if there's anything that I want to specifically know or ask, and I say no (again, trying not to say too much), so off she goes with the cards.
After the first card is put down (and I have no recollection as to what it was) she asks me if I am a teacher, so I say yes. Then, after a few more cards are put down, she asks me if I am starting a new job or position, so I say no. She frowned, put a few more cards down, and asks me if I have any children, so I say no (again, not giving anything away). She then asks me if I want any children, and I answer "eventually", and she says that she sees me having children "very soon". Then she put more cards down, frowned again, and asked me if I have had problems conceiving in the past-she pointed out a particular card and said that it looks like I'm seeing a doctor for a problem, and that he will help me (yay, Dr. Vest!). I was still trying to be non-commital at this point, but with every card she put down, she kept repeating that the cards show triumph over adversity, that I will get what I want, and very soon. So, I finally admitted that I was seeing a doctor for infertility, and she said that (after putting a crystal over some of the cards) she sees me getting pregnant in the summertime, and that it will be only one (I didn't tell her anything about the FET). She turned over one more card, and said that this upcoming pregnancy is something that is predestined, from someone who has already passed on. But, she kept asking me if I had a job change coming up, or a promotion, and I said no. She told me that I will be offered an opportunity very soon, and that I should take it, and trust my gut (for what, I have no idea). So, I thanked her, gave her the $10 and then left.
It kind of freaked me out, especially since I was really being so non-committal about what she was saying, but of course, it brought up all the hopefulness that I've been feeling that maybe, somehow, this FET will result in a long-awaited pregnancy. And, it feels good to be positive, but also really scary-I'm not saying that I do or don't believe this woman-because I don't want to go through another cycle that ends up negative. It's worse when you do IVF or FET, because you're PUPO (pregnant until proved otherwise) and for me, it has been the closest I've ever come to being pregnant in my life.
Hope is a good thing. Hope always walks hand-in-hand with faith. Faith is what tries to get us all through the shitty times. Fear is what breaks the two apart. And I'm definitely scared-that it won't work, that the tot-sicles won't make the thawing process, that something will go wrong, that I will have a nervous breakdown if it doesn't work.
But I still have hope. And, for now, that's enough for me.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Sunday ramblings
Yeah, I've been a slacker lately, but, honestly, I've hardly been home this week.
We opened on Friday night-so far, the run is going well, and we've had good, responsive audiences, so that's cool.
However, I've decided that Di-VA (the chickie playing Nancy) is a drippy cunt bag-WHAT A BITCH! Holy shit!
She constantly complains about shit- her body mike, other castmates "pulling focus" during her scenes (uh, that's called "acting", sweetie), everything. The opening night audience was a bit dead in the beginning, but perked up later on. I had mentioned that and Di-VA says "well, they weren't for ME-they were clapping even before I finished my number" Whoope-de-fucking-do for you! Urgh-I hate people like that. She's constantly "one-upping" everyone, telling us how she's a model, she's getting her Actor's Equity card soon, that she's done pagents. I feel sorry for her in a way-she must be really insecure to feel the need to do things like that, but boy, it's starting to piss me off.
Last night, some friends of the people playing the Sowerberry's (if you know the story, they're the undertakers) came, and were hooting and hollering during the numbers (slightly obnoxious, but I think that that livened up the audience), and Di-VA complained to the SM that they "threw her" during her number, because they were talking. So the SM gets someone from the box office (the president of the group) and the producer (Cunt Rag) to go to them and shut them up. The guy playing Sowerberry gets a text message that someone told them that a cast member complained that they were too rowdy and they should quiet down. He (the guy) was so upset-I don't blame him. Personally, it didn't matter to me at all, I didn't mind them. They even made them a banner and held it up during curtain call-but Di-VA did. The ironic thing was, during curtain call they were whooping it up for every role, but hers. Sowerberry talked to the director later and told her that he was really upset about it, and that if the group kept that crap up, they won't have an audience to play for, nor will they have actors that will audition for them (which he's right). So, drama abounds yet again.
In other news, I FINALLY got a "high" on my handy-dandy ClearPlan Fertility Monitor yesterday morning. Hopefully that means that I'll ovulate within the next few days or so. I'm afraid that if I ovulate too late (if my cycle is longer than 30 days this month) they'll cancel the FET for this month, so y'all better do some white voodoo to make sure that it's still on.
Buddy the cat decided to use the corner of the living room carpet yesterday afternoon as his personal pee-pee palace, which wasn't fun. We had this cute carpet teepee there, and he just went to town all over it. Sean was livid, because Buddy has a habit of doing this-weirdly enough, it's always in the summertime. Maybe it's because I'm home more than during the school year, I dunno. Sean did a half-assed job of cleaning it, so Buddy did it again this morning, so I had to get up early (went to bed around 2), go to the Pathmark, get white vinegar, baking soda and pet accident cleaner shit and try to undo the damage, since it soaked through to the padding. Yuck. I cleaned it as best as I could, and the vet had told us to put a bowl of dry food there (they won't piss where they eat, according to the vet), so let's just hope that does the trick.
I've got more goodies to report, but it's time to shower and go to my matinee. Be back later
We opened on Friday night-so far, the run is going well, and we've had good, responsive audiences, so that's cool.
However, I've decided that Di-VA (the chickie playing Nancy) is a drippy cunt bag-WHAT A BITCH! Holy shit!
She constantly complains about shit- her body mike, other castmates "pulling focus" during her scenes (uh, that's called "acting", sweetie), everything. The opening night audience was a bit dead in the beginning, but perked up later on. I had mentioned that and Di-VA says "well, they weren't for ME-they were clapping even before I finished my number" Whoope-de-fucking-do for you! Urgh-I hate people like that. She's constantly "one-upping" everyone, telling us how she's a model, she's getting her Actor's Equity card soon, that she's done pagents. I feel sorry for her in a way-she must be really insecure to feel the need to do things like that, but boy, it's starting to piss me off.
Last night, some friends of the people playing the Sowerberry's (if you know the story, they're the undertakers) came, and were hooting and hollering during the numbers (slightly obnoxious, but I think that that livened up the audience), and Di-VA complained to the SM that they "threw her" during her number, because they were talking. So the SM gets someone from the box office (the president of the group) and the producer (Cunt Rag) to go to them and shut them up. The guy playing Sowerberry gets a text message that someone told them that a cast member complained that they were too rowdy and they should quiet down. He (the guy) was so upset-I don't blame him. Personally, it didn't matter to me at all, I didn't mind them. They even made them a banner and held it up during curtain call-but Di-VA did. The ironic thing was, during curtain call they were whooping it up for every role, but hers. Sowerberry talked to the director later and told her that he was really upset about it, and that if the group kept that crap up, they won't have an audience to play for, nor will they have actors that will audition for them (which he's right). So, drama abounds yet again.
In other news, I FINALLY got a "high" on my handy-dandy ClearPlan Fertility Monitor yesterday morning. Hopefully that means that I'll ovulate within the next few days or so. I'm afraid that if I ovulate too late (if my cycle is longer than 30 days this month) they'll cancel the FET for this month, so y'all better do some white voodoo to make sure that it's still on.
Buddy the cat decided to use the corner of the living room carpet yesterday afternoon as his personal pee-pee palace, which wasn't fun. We had this cute carpet teepee there, and he just went to town all over it. Sean was livid, because Buddy has a habit of doing this-weirdly enough, it's always in the summertime. Maybe it's because I'm home more than during the school year, I dunno. Sean did a half-assed job of cleaning it, so Buddy did it again this morning, so I had to get up early (went to bed around 2), go to the Pathmark, get white vinegar, baking soda and pet accident cleaner shit and try to undo the damage, since it soaked through to the padding. Yuck. I cleaned it as best as I could, and the vet had told us to put a bowl of dry food there (they won't piss where they eat, according to the vet), so let's just hope that does the trick.
I've got more goodies to report, but it's time to shower and go to my matinee. Be back later
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Reality Check
I was going to write about this last night, but, for a change, my infertility woes took a backseat to the delights of reading Harry Potter....
Sean went out to PA yesterday with his mom, 'Lil Man and the Dementor to a BBQ at his uncle's house whilst I navigated my way through Bergen County for the bridal shower (not an easy feat, anyone out there who knows that area of NJ would probably agree with me) and the conversation from hell with my director about Cunt Rag. We left the house around the same time, and I was kidding around (sort of) and asked him to please make sure that my reproductive system was not a topic of conversation at the party. For those of you who have followed my IVF saga, these are the same relatives that I dealt with on Easter Sunday (if you're not sure, look in the archives for the drama) because my mother-in-law decided to tell her family, without consulting me first, that I was doing IVF. So, understandibly, I was on my guard. But Sean promised that there would be no infertility talk going on. So, on our happy way we both went.
He got home around 9:30 last night, and when I asked him if he had fun he said yes, it was fun, had a lot to eat, played games, blah blah blah, but he seemed a bit upset. Then he said that something happened that bothered him for the rest of the day.
There was a woman there, a friend of his aunt's, a very nice woman apparently, that he casually talked to throughout the day. When her and her husband went to leave, of course, my hunky hubby being the well-mannered gentleman he is, got up to say goodbye to them. The woman asked Sean about how long he's been married, so he tells her that we're going to celebrate our 5th anniversary in October. Then the woman asks if we have any kids, and he said no. Then she comments that we've been married an awfully long time not to have any children. So, Sean told me that he got a little upset when she said that and said to her "well, children are a blessing-but, it's a blessing that's easier for some people to have than others", and walked away from her.
He said that he didn't mean to be rude or anything, but it upset him that this woman could be so forward about asking something that's so private. He told me that his mother, later on, told the woman we were having a hard time getting pregnant (but no details) and the woman felt horrible about bringing it up. Sean was a bit upset about the whole exchange, because he's not that kind of person, and he was in a bit of a funk for the rest of the day.
I really felt for him. I did. I told him that he shouldn't feel guilty about his reaction, because we're more sensitive to questions like that, given our situation. At the same time, though, I wanted to say this:
Now you know how I feel, every single day, every single time someone says something stupid like that to me.
But I didn't. Because, in the end, does it really matter?
Last night showed me that I'm not the only casualty in this war. That I'm not the only one who hurts, who gets depressed and sad and thinks that this is all shitty and wonders what I've done to deserve all this hell.
I get so wrapped up in my own misery at my body that I forget that my own husband is in agony over this too. That it bothers him as well, perhaps even more than it bothers me. I know that he feels horribly guilty because I'm the one who has to go through all the tests, shots, surgeries, and the indignity of having ten million people looking up my coochie every month, when all he has to do is splooge into a cup. Survivor's guilt.
So, I say to this woman, whoever you are--thank you for reminding me that, even though it is ultimately about my body, it's not always about me and how I feel.
Sean went out to PA yesterday with his mom, 'Lil Man and the Dementor to a BBQ at his uncle's house whilst I navigated my way through Bergen County for the bridal shower (not an easy feat, anyone out there who knows that area of NJ would probably agree with me) and the conversation from hell with my director about Cunt Rag. We left the house around the same time, and I was kidding around (sort of) and asked him to please make sure that my reproductive system was not a topic of conversation at the party. For those of you who have followed my IVF saga, these are the same relatives that I dealt with on Easter Sunday (if you're not sure, look in the archives for the drama) because my mother-in-law decided to tell her family, without consulting me first, that I was doing IVF. So, understandibly, I was on my guard. But Sean promised that there would be no infertility talk going on. So, on our happy way we both went.
He got home around 9:30 last night, and when I asked him if he had fun he said yes, it was fun, had a lot to eat, played games, blah blah blah, but he seemed a bit upset. Then he said that something happened that bothered him for the rest of the day.
There was a woman there, a friend of his aunt's, a very nice woman apparently, that he casually talked to throughout the day. When her and her husband went to leave, of course, my hunky hubby being the well-mannered gentleman he is, got up to say goodbye to them. The woman asked Sean about how long he's been married, so he tells her that we're going to celebrate our 5th anniversary in October. Then the woman asks if we have any kids, and he said no. Then she comments that we've been married an awfully long time not to have any children. So, Sean told me that he got a little upset when she said that and said to her "well, children are a blessing-but, it's a blessing that's easier for some people to have than others", and walked away from her.
He said that he didn't mean to be rude or anything, but it upset him that this woman could be so forward about asking something that's so private. He told me that his mother, later on, told the woman we were having a hard time getting pregnant (but no details) and the woman felt horrible about bringing it up. Sean was a bit upset about the whole exchange, because he's not that kind of person, and he was in a bit of a funk for the rest of the day.
I really felt for him. I did. I told him that he shouldn't feel guilty about his reaction, because we're more sensitive to questions like that, given our situation. At the same time, though, I wanted to say this:
Now you know how I feel, every single day, every single time someone says something stupid like that to me.
But I didn't. Because, in the end, does it really matter?
Last night showed me that I'm not the only casualty in this war. That I'm not the only one who hurts, who gets depressed and sad and thinks that this is all shitty and wonders what I've done to deserve all this hell.
I get so wrapped up in my own misery at my body that I forget that my own husband is in agony over this too. That it bothers him as well, perhaps even more than it bothers me. I know that he feels horribly guilty because I'm the one who has to go through all the tests, shots, surgeries, and the indignity of having ten million people looking up my coochie every month, when all he has to do is splooge into a cup. Survivor's guilt.
So, I say to this woman, whoever you are--thank you for reminding me that, even though it is ultimately about my body, it's not always about me and how I feel.
The Woes of Widow Corney
We had our first run-through on Friday night, the week before opening night. All in all, it wasn't so bad. It's not performance level yet, but we've got four days to get it together.
Thank God my Mr. Bumble is a great actor. I'd be hanging from the lighting rig if he weren't.
There was drama, nonetheless. Here I was, Friday night, minding my own business, with my feet up on the chair and re-reading my Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (so I could fully enjoy my new book the next day, natch-yes, I know I'm a geek), and Costume Lady comes up to me, saying that the producer (I'll just call her "Cunt Rag", because that's what she is) is "freaking out" about my shoes (I was wearing tan character shoes at the time, which I've been wearing for all my rehearsals) and was I going to wear them for the performances. "Well, yeah", I answered, "I was planning to, why?". Well, apparently Cunt Rag was was upset because they weren't black character shoes, and therefore not "period" (ie. in keeping with the time period of the show) and Cunt Rag tells Costume Lady that I have to wear black ones (which I do have). "Uh, okay" I tell her, slightly annoyed because (a) Costume Lady should have told me this weeks ago, since it's her job and (b) Cunt Rag has, over the past two weeks, had a nasty habit of sticking her nose into everyone's business and being extremely annoying to everyone in the cast and production staff. So, I go back to my book.
Ten minutes later, Costume Lady comes back to me and says that Cunt Rag told her to tell me that I need to wear black stockings and black shoes because it's "period". So, I have finally had it. I've put up with sitting around for weeks on end, having to listen to four different people tell me four completely different things, and I kinda snapped. I told her that I was not going to buy anyhing else for this show, and that unless the company provided me with it, they can forget it. I then went back again to my book.
It was at this point that hell started to break loose. Cunt Rag comes up to me and tells me "This old retiree will buy you some black stockings" and I told her to forget it, that I was tired of having four different stories, that I was tired of sitting around. So Cunt Rag says that they're telling everyone individually because "nobody's ever around at the same time to hold a costume meeting" (bullshit) and that it's not her fault I sit around, that "perhaps you need to speak to your cast members that don't know what they're doing, so they don't have to run one number for an hour" BITCH! I just let her rant, because I was easier than lose my temper, which I was dangerously close to doing.
Just as a background, Cunt Rag has been producing every summer show there. She's constantly on the production staff about ridiculous things, constantly gives her opinion when it's not welcomed, and is a general pain in the anal orifice. Normally, a producer will write down anything that they feel needs tweaking or changing and then give it to the director or stage manager. Not Cunt Rag. She just comes up to the said person, who could be in the middle of doing something (like scenework) and just start blabbing away. Personally I think that a big reason that this particular group has such a hard time finding (and keeping) performers is because of her-my own brother-in-law 'Lil Man was on the board of this group and stepped down because of her bullshit. He has yet to be in another production, because of her. But, I digress....
So, yesterday I had to go to this bridal shower, which was about an hour away. My mobile rings, and it's the director. Long story short, Cunt Rag calls the director and tells her that I'm "unhappy" with the way the director has been doing things. So, I freak out and tell the director that I didn't say that, and told her the story. Basically, Cunt Rag is just stirring up trouble. I want to kick her ass, but, honestly, it isn't worth it.
I can't wait until this is over, which is a shame. I just have to concentrate on my own performance and not worry whether or not this will be a shitty show. It's a sad way to do things, but necessary for my own sanity. I just can't afford to have any stress right now.
Thank God my Mr. Bumble is a great actor. I'd be hanging from the lighting rig if he weren't.
There was drama, nonetheless. Here I was, Friday night, minding my own business, with my feet up on the chair and re-reading my Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (so I could fully enjoy my new book the next day, natch-yes, I know I'm a geek), and Costume Lady comes up to me, saying that the producer (I'll just call her "Cunt Rag", because that's what she is) is "freaking out" about my shoes (I was wearing tan character shoes at the time, which I've been wearing for all my rehearsals) and was I going to wear them for the performances. "Well, yeah", I answered, "I was planning to, why?". Well, apparently Cunt Rag was was upset because they weren't black character shoes, and therefore not "period" (ie. in keeping with the time period of the show) and Cunt Rag tells Costume Lady that I have to wear black ones (which I do have). "Uh, okay" I tell her, slightly annoyed because (a) Costume Lady should have told me this weeks ago, since it's her job and (b) Cunt Rag has, over the past two weeks, had a nasty habit of sticking her nose into everyone's business and being extremely annoying to everyone in the cast and production staff. So, I go back to my book.
Ten minutes later, Costume Lady comes back to me and says that Cunt Rag told her to tell me that I need to wear black stockings and black shoes because it's "period". So, I have finally had it. I've put up with sitting around for weeks on end, having to listen to four different people tell me four completely different things, and I kinda snapped. I told her that I was not going to buy anyhing else for this show, and that unless the company provided me with it, they can forget it. I then went back again to my book.
It was at this point that hell started to break loose. Cunt Rag comes up to me and tells me "This old retiree will buy you some black stockings" and I told her to forget it, that I was tired of having four different stories, that I was tired of sitting around. So Cunt Rag says that they're telling everyone individually because "nobody's ever around at the same time to hold a costume meeting" (bullshit) and that it's not her fault I sit around, that "perhaps you need to speak to your cast members that don't know what they're doing, so they don't have to run one number for an hour" BITCH! I just let her rant, because I was easier than lose my temper, which I was dangerously close to doing.
Just as a background, Cunt Rag has been producing every summer show there. She's constantly on the production staff about ridiculous things, constantly gives her opinion when it's not welcomed, and is a general pain in the anal orifice. Normally, a producer will write down anything that they feel needs tweaking or changing and then give it to the director or stage manager. Not Cunt Rag. She just comes up to the said person, who could be in the middle of doing something (like scenework) and just start blabbing away. Personally I think that a big reason that this particular group has such a hard time finding (and keeping) performers is because of her-my own brother-in-law 'Lil Man was on the board of this group and stepped down because of her bullshit. He has yet to be in another production, because of her. But, I digress....
So, yesterday I had to go to this bridal shower, which was about an hour away. My mobile rings, and it's the director. Long story short, Cunt Rag calls the director and tells her that I'm "unhappy" with the way the director has been doing things. So, I freak out and tell the director that I didn't say that, and told her the story. Basically, Cunt Rag is just stirring up trouble. I want to kick her ass, but, honestly, it isn't worth it.
I can't wait until this is over, which is a shame. I just have to concentrate on my own performance and not worry whether or not this will be a shitty show. It's a sad way to do things, but necessary for my own sanity. I just can't afford to have any stress right now.
The Half-Blood Prince
Wow.
I just finished the book. I would have finished it last night (I was about 100 pages from the end after 6 hours of non-stop reading), but I had to make myself stop and go to bed.
Holy Shit.
In-fucking-credible.
J.K. Rowling is brilliant.
Let's discuss.
**Oh, if you haven't read it yet, still in the middle of reading it, or are planning on reading it, don't read the comments, in case of plot spoilers. I don't want anyone getting pissed off and saying hat they got cheated out of anything**
P.S. I'm going to read it over again.......
I just finished the book. I would have finished it last night (I was about 100 pages from the end after 6 hours of non-stop reading), but I had to make myself stop and go to bed.
Holy Shit.
In-fucking-credible.
J.K. Rowling is brilliant.
Let's discuss.
**Oh, if you haven't read it yet, still in the middle of reading it, or are planning on reading it, don't read the comments, in case of plot spoilers. I don't want anyone getting pissed off and saying hat they got cheated out of anything**
P.S. I'm going to read it over again.......
Friday, July 15, 2005
Queen of the Stirrups
OK, I really am getting the feeling that this show is really going to be horrible.
Today, exactly a week before opening night, will be our first (yes, first) run-thru of the show. This scares the shit out of me, that we haven't been running it up until now. In fact, I sat again last night for two hours because the director had to block one of the last scenes (the one where Nancy gets strangled by Bill Sykes)-I wanted to scream but it took too much energy.
Yeah, this is going to suck.
I had to take Sean's truck to the dealer today-the little maintenance light went on-turns out it was because he was due for an oil change. So, M and I went for a ride, then went down to Point Pleasant for lunch, eating junk like fried oreos (my belly is killing me right now) and hanging on the boardwalk-it was too cloudy to hit the beach. M tells me that they're supposed to sign their settlement thing today, and should, barring any last minute tantrums from Fuckwad, be officially divorced on Tuesday. Then, she won't have to be nice to Fuckwad anymore, which she cant' wait for. Plus, she told me that she had a polyp removed from her cervix last week at her annual exam, so she's freaking out that she might have cancer, even though the doc told her that 99% of the time it's negative. So, she was asking me all these questions about how long it will bleed, blah blah blah. And I told her "Yeah, I know all about stuff like that, just call me Queen of the Stirrups". Then we laughed our asses off for about ten minutes. People passing us by probably thought that we were retarded.
Infertility sure gives you a bizarre sense of humor.
Today, exactly a week before opening night, will be our first (yes, first) run-thru of the show. This scares the shit out of me, that we haven't been running it up until now. In fact, I sat again last night for two hours because the director had to block one of the last scenes (the one where Nancy gets strangled by Bill Sykes)-I wanted to scream but it took too much energy.
Yeah, this is going to suck.
I had to take Sean's truck to the dealer today-the little maintenance light went on-turns out it was because he was due for an oil change. So, M and I went for a ride, then went down to Point Pleasant for lunch, eating junk like fried oreos (my belly is killing me right now) and hanging on the boardwalk-it was too cloudy to hit the beach. M tells me that they're supposed to sign their settlement thing today, and should, barring any last minute tantrums from Fuckwad, be officially divorced on Tuesday. Then, she won't have to be nice to Fuckwad anymore, which she cant' wait for. Plus, she told me that she had a polyp removed from her cervix last week at her annual exam, so she's freaking out that she might have cancer, even though the doc told her that 99% of the time it's negative. So, she was asking me all these questions about how long it will bleed, blah blah blah. And I told her "Yeah, I know all about stuff like that, just call me Queen of the Stirrups". Then we laughed our asses off for about ten minutes. People passing us by probably thought that we were retarded.
Infertility sure gives you a bizarre sense of humor.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
NO drama at rehearsal last night.......unless you count that Di-VA was still on book for all her second act scenes.......sheesh.....and she supposedly played the part before? What-EVER.
Although, I was a little bit disappointed, I must admit-I was looking forward to one of her snit-fests and what would have been the inevitable blowout. It's like watching a train wreck-you know that it's going to be horrific, but you still can't look away.
On a better note, I had my FET appointment today. So far, so good. Dr. Vest is trying a new "natural cycle" protocol (I love being a guinea pig!) on me. I go for LH bloodwork on cycle days, 13, 14 and 16 (the 15th being a Sunday) and the transfer will be 5 days after my LH surge.
Dr. Vest also told me that the blasts they froze were 6 day ones-I'm not sure if that's good or not (I think it is, but I'll need to do some research). I reiterated that since we only have three totsicles left, I wanted two thawed and transferred. If, for some reason, they didn't survive the thaw (trying to be realistic here) then they can try to thaw the last one. Apparently, it only takes an hour or so to thaw them-I was shocked. I would have thought a few days, but no.
My greatest fear is that none of them will survive the thaw, and we're screwed. I'd have to do another fresh cycle, which means more injectible drugs (now adding the PIO to the cocktail) and that would seriously blow. I talked to Nursey P about my insurance change, and she confirmed my new benefits, which are actually better-Blue Cross/Blue Shield coveres both donor egg and surrogacy (not that I need that, but it's good to know). The shitty thing is that, because I already had a retrieval under my previous insurance, they count it towards my 4 retrieval lifetime maximum under IF benefits, regardless that it was done with another insurance company. Fuck. I thought that it would be starting over again, so we're down to three more. But, it's three more than a lot of other women have, so I'm still grateful.
So, I got my prescriptions for the Medrol and my "gassy-biotic" Doxycycline, which I'll start taking 2 days before the scheduled transfer, and continue them until the bottles are empty (I think only four or five days total), then play the waiting game for the pregnancy test. If I ovulate on day 16 (which I usually do), then the prospective transfer date would be Saturday, July 30th. Not too happy about that, since (1). My show closes that night and (2) we have tickets to see "Spamalot" that afternoon. It took us FOREVER to get the tickets-since the Tonys they're impossible to get. But, Nursey P said that she didn't see why we still wouldn't be able to go.
Well, you know what they say...........shit happens.
Although, I was a little bit disappointed, I must admit-I was looking forward to one of her snit-fests and what would have been the inevitable blowout. It's like watching a train wreck-you know that it's going to be horrific, but you still can't look away.
On a better note, I had my FET appointment today. So far, so good. Dr. Vest is trying a new "natural cycle" protocol (I love being a guinea pig!) on me. I go for LH bloodwork on cycle days, 13, 14 and 16 (the 15th being a Sunday) and the transfer will be 5 days after my LH surge.
Dr. Vest also told me that the blasts they froze were 6 day ones-I'm not sure if that's good or not (I think it is, but I'll need to do some research). I reiterated that since we only have three totsicles left, I wanted two thawed and transferred. If, for some reason, they didn't survive the thaw (trying to be realistic here) then they can try to thaw the last one. Apparently, it only takes an hour or so to thaw them-I was shocked. I would have thought a few days, but no.
My greatest fear is that none of them will survive the thaw, and we're screwed. I'd have to do another fresh cycle, which means more injectible drugs (now adding the PIO to the cocktail) and that would seriously blow. I talked to Nursey P about my insurance change, and she confirmed my new benefits, which are actually better-Blue Cross/Blue Shield coveres both donor egg and surrogacy (not that I need that, but it's good to know). The shitty thing is that, because I already had a retrieval under my previous insurance, they count it towards my 4 retrieval lifetime maximum under IF benefits, regardless that it was done with another insurance company. Fuck. I thought that it would be starting over again, so we're down to three more. But, it's three more than a lot of other women have, so I'm still grateful.
So, I got my prescriptions for the Medrol and my "gassy-biotic" Doxycycline, which I'll start taking 2 days before the scheduled transfer, and continue them until the bottles are empty (I think only four or five days total), then play the waiting game for the pregnancy test. If I ovulate on day 16 (which I usually do), then the prospective transfer date would be Saturday, July 30th. Not too happy about that, since (1). My show closes that night and (2) we have tickets to see "Spamalot" that afternoon. It took us FOREVER to get the tickets-since the Tonys they're impossible to get. But, Nursey P said that she didn't see why we still wouldn't be able to go.
Well, you know what they say...........shit happens.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Drama in the Workhouse
I called Nursey P yesterday to let her know that my period promptly arrived on Sunday morning, and dutifully made my appointment for my "FET talk" for tomorrow, Wednesday, at 2:30 pm with Dr. Vest (aptly monikered because of the cool black leather vest he wears under his white doctor's coat.....although in 90+ degree heat in July, I'm not sure he'll be wearing it tomorrow). I'll get my protocol, which is pretty simple since there's no shots involved, and my prescriptions for the doxycycline and the Medrol. I hate antibiotics-I get so gassy (sorry if TMI for you)-at least I won't get sick around the time of the show dates.....
Speaking of "Oliver", we've been having a bit of "drama" at rehearsals lately, with our Nancy. She's a bit of a diva personality, and is the type of person who has to drop names and let everyone know how much she's done, how she is so busy modeling, getting her Actor's Equity card in September (??), blah blah blah.......you know the type. Well, the director that we have is a bit.....uh......unorganized about the whole rehearsal process. There have been times that I've sat around for about two hours doing nothing, and she never gets to anything I'm in, after specifically telling me to show up at a certain time. I wouldn't care if I was getting a paycheck, but since I'm not, I could have been doing other things (those other things might have been scratching my coochie, eating Triscuits in bed, or playing hide-the-salami with the hubby, but you get the point). And, this same thing has happened to other cast members-one guy in particular has an hour and a half drive home and he sat around for two hours. Mis-managed, but there's not much you can do.
Well, this girl (I'll call her Di-VA) is a bit rough around the edges-loud, sort of obnoxious, but moderately talented (except that her accent isn't consistent, still isn't off book 10 days before opening night and she slides into the notes that are obviously at the edge of her vocal range, but who's noticing?). She got pissed off at rehearsal Friday night because she had to sit around (like who didn't?) so she went up to the director and basically told her that if she was going to end up sitting around at Monday night's rehearsal, she wasn't going to come at all. Not good.
A bunch of us went out on Friday night after rehearsal, including the MD (who is dating a cast member) and Di-VA went off on the MD about how unorganized the director is, how the show is going to suck, blah blah blah. The poor MD just wanted to go and have some munchies and a few beers, not deal with this shit, so I felt really horrible for him. He was trying to stay out of it. I piped up that yes, we have all sat around and it's frustrating, but that it will pull together. She kept going on and on about it while sitting there with her not-very-good-looking significantly older boyfriend, who met us there, and smoking cigars with him at the table. Shit.
The director got wind of her Friday night tirade, and got seriously pissed off (understandibly). Then, Di-VA showed up two hours late for rehearsal last night-and didn't call to let someone know. They made two or three calls out to her, and when they finally got hold of her, she said that she'd be there at 8pm, but didn't stroll in until after 9pm (probably to prove a point, but she had some dramatic excuse). Luckily she was off book for her stuff, because the shit really would've hit the fan. The director doesn't want to throw her out (even though she wants to) because we're about to open, but she doesn't want to put up with bullshit. And, it's gotten to the point that most people find her annoying and rude. To the point where some people are starting to literally speak their minds, loud enough for her to hear.
I'm waiting to see what's going to happen tonight. Maybe I should bring popcorn. It'll be like watching the those professional wrestling shows, where they talk smack about each other all the time.
The morale of this story? Community theater can sometimes SUCK. But it's good entertainment, if you can find the humor in it.
Speaking of "Oliver", we've been having a bit of "drama" at rehearsals lately, with our Nancy. She's a bit of a diva personality, and is the type of person who has to drop names and let everyone know how much she's done, how she is so busy modeling, getting her Actor's Equity card in September (??), blah blah blah.......you know the type. Well, the director that we have is a bit.....uh......unorganized about the whole rehearsal process. There have been times that I've sat around for about two hours doing nothing, and she never gets to anything I'm in, after specifically telling me to show up at a certain time. I wouldn't care if I was getting a paycheck, but since I'm not, I could have been doing other things (those other things might have been scratching my coochie, eating Triscuits in bed, or playing hide-the-salami with the hubby, but you get the point). And, this same thing has happened to other cast members-one guy in particular has an hour and a half drive home and he sat around for two hours. Mis-managed, but there's not much you can do.
Well, this girl (I'll call her Di-VA) is a bit rough around the edges-loud, sort of obnoxious, but moderately talented (except that her accent isn't consistent, still isn't off book 10 days before opening night and she slides into the notes that are obviously at the edge of her vocal range, but who's noticing?). She got pissed off at rehearsal Friday night because she had to sit around (like who didn't?) so she went up to the director and basically told her that if she was going to end up sitting around at Monday night's rehearsal, she wasn't going to come at all. Not good.
A bunch of us went out on Friday night after rehearsal, including the MD (who is dating a cast member) and Di-VA went off on the MD about how unorganized the director is, how the show is going to suck, blah blah blah. The poor MD just wanted to go and have some munchies and a few beers, not deal with this shit, so I felt really horrible for him. He was trying to stay out of it. I piped up that yes, we have all sat around and it's frustrating, but that it will pull together. She kept going on and on about it while sitting there with her not-very-good-looking significantly older boyfriend, who met us there, and smoking cigars with him at the table. Shit.
The director got wind of her Friday night tirade, and got seriously pissed off (understandibly). Then, Di-VA showed up two hours late for rehearsal last night-and didn't call to let someone know. They made two or three calls out to her, and when they finally got hold of her, she said that she'd be there at 8pm, but didn't stroll in until after 9pm (probably to prove a point, but she had some dramatic excuse). Luckily she was off book for her stuff, because the shit really would've hit the fan. The director doesn't want to throw her out (even though she wants to) because we're about to open, but she doesn't want to put up with bullshit. And, it's gotten to the point that most people find her annoying and rude. To the point where some people are starting to literally speak their minds, loud enough for her to hear.
I'm waiting to see what's going to happen tonight. Maybe I should bring popcorn. It'll be like watching the those professional wrestling shows, where they talk smack about each other all the time.
The morale of this story? Community theater can sometimes SUCK. But it's good entertainment, if you can find the humor in it.
I'm drooling..........
THREE DAYS UNTIL "HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE" IS RELEASED!!
I'm so excited I could wet myself.......
It's Murphy's Law, however, that I won't be able to read it right away........I've got to go to a briday shower that day........*grumble grumble*........
I'm so excited I could wet myself.......
It's Murphy's Law, however, that I won't be able to read it right away........I've got to go to a briday shower that day........*grumble grumble*........
Saturday, July 09, 2005
I'm Feeling a Bit Snarky Today...
Today we get to go and do all those weird married-things that movies like "Old School" make fun of.......
We get to FINALLY order our tile for the kitchen back-splash-hey, it's only been about a year since we finished the kitchen-get two bridal shower gifts and a birthday gift at the mall (I hate going there, but oh, well) and clean.......doesn't it sound fun? Don't you wish you were me?
I write that with all the sarcasm I can muster, since.......
I couldn't even get to sleep in today. Peachy decided to have a mini-puking session on my pillow sham (located right behind my pillow) this morning. It wasn't too bad, it wasn't like watery or anything, but still fucking gross. I especially love being awoken to the sounds of a cat retching right above my head, don't you? So, Sean decided to strip the whole bed down and wash everything and hang it outside, since the weather has finally decided to cooperate today (at least, until the next hurricane decides to hit), but that means no sleepy-poo for me....fuckers.
And, yes, it could have been worse-she could have been puking on my head or something, but it still deprived me of my beauty sleep, and let's face it, I certainly need it.....
Just finished watching Topsy Turvy-great movie. Too bad it only got one Oscar for costume design......
So I decided, after last night's rehearsal, that I'm not going to worry about whether the show will suck ass or not. I, and the person playing Mr. Bumble, know what we're supposed to be doing, and we're okay with our few scenes, and everything else will just have to fall into place. I'm not the director-let her worry about the ensemble not knowing their words or blocking. The principals seem nice-the chick playing Nancy is a bit harsh and sort of diva-like, but I don't have a problem with her, so whatever. It will end up to be an okay show, but I get worried that we open in less than two weeks and have yet to do a run-through.
I did find out that another theater here in NJ is putting up "The Pirates of Penzance" in mid-September, and since I love that show (I auditioned for it once, eight years ago and didn't get in-wah!) I decided that I'm going to the auditions in two weeks. Our stage manager for Oliver! is SM'ing "Pirates", and the guy who is choreographing I worked with a few years ago (in "Anything Goes" when I played Bonnie)-not that guarantees me shit, but it helps get my foot into the door, at least.....
So, that's about it for today-oh, yeah, I'm also waiting for the old hag to show up tomorrow-I'm getting those nasty twinges in my nether-regions, which always accompanies her grand entrance-and then, onto FET#1 (and, hopefully, my only one) and, possibly, pregnancy at last.
We get to FINALLY order our tile for the kitchen back-splash-hey, it's only been about a year since we finished the kitchen-get two bridal shower gifts and a birthday gift at the mall (I hate going there, but oh, well) and clean.......doesn't it sound fun? Don't you wish you were me?
I write that with all the sarcasm I can muster, since.......
I couldn't even get to sleep in today. Peachy decided to have a mini-puking session on my pillow sham (located right behind my pillow) this morning. It wasn't too bad, it wasn't like watery or anything, but still fucking gross. I especially love being awoken to the sounds of a cat retching right above my head, don't you? So, Sean decided to strip the whole bed down and wash everything and hang it outside, since the weather has finally decided to cooperate today (at least, until the next hurricane decides to hit), but that means no sleepy-poo for me....fuckers.
And, yes, it could have been worse-she could have been puking on my head or something, but it still deprived me of my beauty sleep, and let's face it, I certainly need it.....
Just finished watching Topsy Turvy-great movie. Too bad it only got one Oscar for costume design......
So I decided, after last night's rehearsal, that I'm not going to worry about whether the show will suck ass or not. I, and the person playing Mr. Bumble, know what we're supposed to be doing, and we're okay with our few scenes, and everything else will just have to fall into place. I'm not the director-let her worry about the ensemble not knowing their words or blocking. The principals seem nice-the chick playing Nancy is a bit harsh and sort of diva-like, but I don't have a problem with her, so whatever. It will end up to be an okay show, but I get worried that we open in less than two weeks and have yet to do a run-through.
I did find out that another theater here in NJ is putting up "The Pirates of Penzance" in mid-September, and since I love that show (I auditioned for it once, eight years ago and didn't get in-wah!) I decided that I'm going to the auditions in two weeks. Our stage manager for Oliver! is SM'ing "Pirates", and the guy who is choreographing I worked with a few years ago (in "Anything Goes" when I played Bonnie)-not that guarantees me shit, but it helps get my foot into the door, at least.....
So, that's about it for today-oh, yeah, I'm also waiting for the old hag to show up tomorrow-I'm getting those nasty twinges in my nether-regions, which always accompanies her grand entrance-and then, onto FET#1 (and, hopefully, my only one) and, possibly, pregnancy at last.
Friday, July 08, 2005
Who said that life was going to be easy?
Why the fuck does it always have to rain like a bitch whenever I have a day off?
Today I have 10 million things to do-laundry, memorize my lines, go over my music for this weekend's Masses, cast the kids show I'm directing, take a shower-and I have absolutely NO desire to move from this chair and out of my seriously mismatched PJ's. The countdown to the old whore's ETA on Sunday is imminent. It's also my godchild's 4th birthday, which means that I have to go and get her a birthday gift. It also reminds me, for the 50th time, that I should have had at least one child by now. I actually started to TTC about 11 months after Jenna was born-time sure flies when you're stressed and obsessed, doesn't it?
But, it makes me realize certain things. My best friend, M (Jenna's mom), didn't think that, four years earlier, she would be getting a divorce (and a messy one, to boot). She didn't think that she would be living back with her parents, alone, and have to deal with her fuckwad soon-to-be ex through lawyers and argumentative and slightly abusive phone calls. She was the girl who we thought had everything-a good job (a trauma nurse at one of NJ's biggest hospitals) a husband who was the life of the party, a beautiful daughter, two cars, a $450K house, a dog, three vacations a year. Who knew that her husband was a lazy and emotionally abusive bastard, that she'd be forced to sell the house less than a year after she bought it, have to fight over custody of the dog (she won, btw) and child support, and have to make it on her own after 10 years of her life (including dating) with someone?
It makes me grateful that Sean is who he is. I'm relieved that, even though we are going through our own problems, with infertility, that, if in the worst case scenario we never have children, we have each other. I think because Sean comes from a "broken home" he has more of a sense of making a marriage work, no matter what happens. He was lucky, though, that his parents didn't have a messy divorce and, from what he and his parents tell me, they shared bringing up their children without involving them in the reasons for their breakup. They are better friends now, than when they were married, according to them. In fact, my MIL goes to my FIL's salon to get her haircuts and highlights, and they constantly joke around. They made it work, because they had to-they knew that, whether they liked it or not, they would always be bonded together because of their children. I'm sure it wasn't easy, that there was a lot of anger and resentment there, but they put it aside to raise their kids together, even though they decided to seperate their lives and move on.
M's whole situation makes me realize that we both probably never expected to be in the situations we're in now-in my case, childless; in her case, marriageless-but have to deal with it as best as we can. But, boy, does it sure blow big moose ass.
Today I have 10 million things to do-laundry, memorize my lines, go over my music for this weekend's Masses, cast the kids show I'm directing, take a shower-and I have absolutely NO desire to move from this chair and out of my seriously mismatched PJ's. The countdown to the old whore's ETA on Sunday is imminent. It's also my godchild's 4th birthday, which means that I have to go and get her a birthday gift. It also reminds me, for the 50th time, that I should have had at least one child by now. I actually started to TTC about 11 months after Jenna was born-time sure flies when you're stressed and obsessed, doesn't it?
But, it makes me realize certain things. My best friend, M (Jenna's mom), didn't think that, four years earlier, she would be getting a divorce (and a messy one, to boot). She didn't think that she would be living back with her parents, alone, and have to deal with her fuckwad soon-to-be ex through lawyers and argumentative and slightly abusive phone calls. She was the girl who we thought had everything-a good job (a trauma nurse at one of NJ's biggest hospitals) a husband who was the life of the party, a beautiful daughter, two cars, a $450K house, a dog, three vacations a year. Who knew that her husband was a lazy and emotionally abusive bastard, that she'd be forced to sell the house less than a year after she bought it, have to fight over custody of the dog (she won, btw) and child support, and have to make it on her own after 10 years of her life (including dating) with someone?
It makes me grateful that Sean is who he is. I'm relieved that, even though we are going through our own problems, with infertility, that, if in the worst case scenario we never have children, we have each other. I think because Sean comes from a "broken home" he has more of a sense of making a marriage work, no matter what happens. He was lucky, though, that his parents didn't have a messy divorce and, from what he and his parents tell me, they shared bringing up their children without involving them in the reasons for their breakup. They are better friends now, than when they were married, according to them. In fact, my MIL goes to my FIL's salon to get her haircuts and highlights, and they constantly joke around. They made it work, because they had to-they knew that, whether they liked it or not, they would always be bonded together because of their children. I'm sure it wasn't easy, that there was a lot of anger and resentment there, but they put it aside to raise their kids together, even though they decided to seperate their lives and move on.
M's whole situation makes me realize that we both probably never expected to be in the situations we're in now-in my case, childless; in her case, marriageless-but have to deal with it as best as we can. But, boy, does it sure blow big moose ass.
Ta-DA!
Well, here's the new layout.......like it?
It was the lesser of all the evils out there, IMHO. There are TONS of sites with free layouts-blogskins.com is a good one-but there are too many teeny-bopper templates out there, and the ones i liked were a bit depressing. I wanted one with a cool graphic on it (some sassy chick looking thing), but I'm such an indecisive Libra, so I went with this one.......
Plus, the bubbles reminded me of embryos......isn't it sad that my brain always goes back to my friggin' reproductive system? Ah, well........
It was the lesser of all the evils out there, IMHO. There are TONS of sites with free layouts-blogskins.com is a good one-but there are too many teeny-bopper templates out there, and the ones i liked were a bit depressing. I wanted one with a cool graphic on it (some sassy chick looking thing), but I'm such an indecisive Libra, so I went with this one.......
Plus, the bubbles reminded me of embryos......isn't it sad that my brain always goes back to my friggin' reproductive system? Ah, well........
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
My Blog Looks Boring!
I totally need to change the look of my blog again-I'm sick of looking at it.
Any suggestions on how to make it look cooler? The ones that you can choose from on Blogger are kinda blech-are there any sites out there that have free Blogger templates?
Any suggestions on how to make it look cooler? The ones that you can choose from on Blogger are kinda blech-are there any sites out there that have free Blogger templates?
Budding Thespians are Everywhere!
I started my camp today. I direct/musical direct a children's theater workshop during the month of July. We've got a pretty good group, so far. There's this one girl, in particular, who is so talented-I mean, like she-should-get-an-agent talented. I haven't heard her sing yet (that will be tomorrow), but HOLY SHIT! And, she's only 10 years old!
I was talking to one of the moms today (her son was a former camper and is now a counselor, and she's on the board of this theater group) and our producer, who I teach with, and we were talking about my schedule because of the RE, and she (her name is Sue) was concerned, thinking something was wrong, so I gave her a brief synopsis of my reproductive situation. Turns out, she had problems conceiving all her kids, did IUI's, was on clomid, and had a lap, so she totally knew what I was talking about. Then, she told me who her doctor was, and it's the same doc my friend goes to (the one that has the 26 lb 14 month old that looks like a two year old)-small world, huh?
I talked to Nursey P this morning to make sure that they got all my bloodwork results, and she told me that my progesterone came back at 17.5, which is apparently really good. Beats the shit out of me, but she sounded really positive on the phone. She said that the natural cycle is, as of now, a "go" and we just have to wait until I get my period, which should be probably on Sunday. Then, I wait to ovulate nautrally, and five days after that we'll transfer two totsicles in and hope for the best.
I have rehearsal every weeknight from now on, which kinda sucks. There's a lot of waiting around, which I don't like-it would be one thing if I were being paid to wait around, which I'm most definitely not. This production seems to be really disorganized. Yesterday was the first time I've actually seen the stage manager at rehearsal, and we started about four weeks ago-apparently she was SM'ing another show (which was already running and didn't have brush-ups, so where was she?) and doing who-knows-what else. So, the director is running around like a maniac, doing two jobs and being constantly being pulled away to look at costumes, the MD is really laid-back, which he's paying for now that he's realized that none of the orphans or chorus really know their music, and now he's trying to crack the whip, which isn't working. Then you got all the pissed-off people (rightly so) who are sitting around for literally two hours until they can run their scene/song, and then by that time it's so late that they barely get through it once.......*sigh*..........gotta love community theater.
Boy, I really REALLY hope this show doesn't suck.
I was talking to one of the moms today (her son was a former camper and is now a counselor, and she's on the board of this theater group) and our producer, who I teach with, and we were talking about my schedule because of the RE, and she (her name is Sue) was concerned, thinking something was wrong, so I gave her a brief synopsis of my reproductive situation. Turns out, she had problems conceiving all her kids, did IUI's, was on clomid, and had a lap, so she totally knew what I was talking about. Then, she told me who her doctor was, and it's the same doc my friend goes to (the one that has the 26 lb 14 month old that looks like a two year old)-small world, huh?
I talked to Nursey P this morning to make sure that they got all my bloodwork results, and she told me that my progesterone came back at 17.5, which is apparently really good. Beats the shit out of me, but she sounded really positive on the phone. She said that the natural cycle is, as of now, a "go" and we just have to wait until I get my period, which should be probably on Sunday. Then, I wait to ovulate nautrally, and five days after that we'll transfer two totsicles in and hope for the best.
I have rehearsal every weeknight from now on, which kinda sucks. There's a lot of waiting around, which I don't like-it would be one thing if I were being paid to wait around, which I'm most definitely not. This production seems to be really disorganized. Yesterday was the first time I've actually seen the stage manager at rehearsal, and we started about four weeks ago-apparently she was SM'ing another show (which was already running and didn't have brush-ups, so where was she?) and doing who-knows-what else. So, the director is running around like a maniac, doing two jobs and being constantly being pulled away to look at costumes, the MD is really laid-back, which he's paying for now that he's realized that none of the orphans or chorus really know their music, and now he's trying to crack the whip, which isn't working. Then you got all the pissed-off people (rightly so) who are sitting around for literally two hours until they can run their scene/song, and then by that time it's so late that they barely get through it once.......*sigh*..........gotta love community theater.
Boy, I really REALLY hope this show doesn't suck.
Saturday, July 02, 2005
Why Tom Cruise Sucks Ass (Big-Time!)
I've been following this whole debacle since it first happened, and it totally pisses me off.
Where the fuck does this guy get off saying that someone shouldn't take the necessary steps to make themselves mentally, as well as physically well? Does Tom Cruise have a degree, or even studied psychology and psychiatry, in depth? Last I heard, he doesn't even have a college degree, so I'd highly doubt that he even made it to Psych 101. It's nice that he "knows" about the history of psychiatry, and yes, some of it was absolutely barbaric, but without that history modern doctors would not know how to help people with mental illness compassionately and professionally. A doctor doesn't just want to give you a "happy pill" and wave you away-drugs are not the answer or a quick fix-in fact, they often don't prescribe medications right away. Their job is to make you mentally well, in a way that's best for you, not for a broad group of people.
I mean, he didn't even have the facts straight when he said that Brooke Shields was on anti-psychotics-which she isn't-and then had the nerve to go on how "vitamins and exercise" can cure all mental illnesses. How ridiculous does that sound? He's not a woman, he'll never have to face something like post-partum depression, so where does he get off giving an opinion like that?
I'm glad that Brooke Shields wrote the editorial-it shows that she is an intelligent, educated woman who is not afraid to show that, even though she is a celebrity and is put on a pedestal by the public, she is human and has the same problems and issues as many women in this country. She has brought a face to what post-partum women go through, has made it more real to people. And if Tom Cruise has to give her unsolicited medical ass-vice on national television, it shows his ignorance to the whole issue of women's health.
Now, I tried to read up on Scientology, just to see where he gets all of this from-apparently, Scientologists denounce psychology/psychiatry as "evil" and "mind-control" (for more information, read about it here). Some people see it as a cult-I can understand where that comes from. I try to be open-minded and tolerant for different faiths and denominations, but I just don't understand a "religion" (which Scientology promotes themselves to be) that makes their members feel as if getting help from professionals is as bad as murder?
I've also read in the NY Times that the studio is cutting back his promotional schedule after the Today Show interview with Matt Lauer, to avoid any similar situations. Hey, he's being paid a great deal of money to do a job, right? He should just go out and do it, instead of preach his religious/moral ideals to the nation. I don't go to work and talk about Catholicism and how wonderful I think it is to everyone, and that their views on things are evil, I'd get fired. Faster than I could say my own name.
Tom Cruise is an actor, and has had, up to now, a successful career, which he attributes to finding the Church of Scientology. But it looks like he's starting to bite the hand that has been feeding him, and it's probably only a matter of time until his career deflates because of this. I personally will not go to see his new movie, although it looks fantastic. Why should I pay my $12.00, which will ultimately end up in his pocket (I'm sure that he was intelligent enough to get percentage points of the movie) and into the Church's coffers? No way, man. They can kiss my ass.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is the way to go, I think.
Where the fuck does this guy get off saying that someone shouldn't take the necessary steps to make themselves mentally, as well as physically well? Does Tom Cruise have a degree, or even studied psychology and psychiatry, in depth? Last I heard, he doesn't even have a college degree, so I'd highly doubt that he even made it to Psych 101. It's nice that he "knows" about the history of psychiatry, and yes, some of it was absolutely barbaric, but without that history modern doctors would not know how to help people with mental illness compassionately and professionally. A doctor doesn't just want to give you a "happy pill" and wave you away-drugs are not the answer or a quick fix-in fact, they often don't prescribe medications right away. Their job is to make you mentally well, in a way that's best for you, not for a broad group of people.
I mean, he didn't even have the facts straight when he said that Brooke Shields was on anti-psychotics-which she isn't-and then had the nerve to go on how "vitamins and exercise" can cure all mental illnesses. How ridiculous does that sound? He's not a woman, he'll never have to face something like post-partum depression, so where does he get off giving an opinion like that?
I'm glad that Brooke Shields wrote the editorial-it shows that she is an intelligent, educated woman who is not afraid to show that, even though she is a celebrity and is put on a pedestal by the public, she is human and has the same problems and issues as many women in this country. She has brought a face to what post-partum women go through, has made it more real to people. And if Tom Cruise has to give her unsolicited medical ass-vice on national television, it shows his ignorance to the whole issue of women's health.
Now, I tried to read up on Scientology, just to see where he gets all of this from-apparently, Scientologists denounce psychology/psychiatry as "evil" and "mind-control" (for more information, read about it here). Some people see it as a cult-I can understand where that comes from. I try to be open-minded and tolerant for different faiths and denominations, but I just don't understand a "religion" (which Scientology promotes themselves to be) that makes their members feel as if getting help from professionals is as bad as murder?
I've also read in the NY Times that the studio is cutting back his promotional schedule after the Today Show interview with Matt Lauer, to avoid any similar situations. Hey, he's being paid a great deal of money to do a job, right? He should just go out and do it, instead of preach his religious/moral ideals to the nation. I don't go to work and talk about Catholicism and how wonderful I think it is to everyone, and that their views on things are evil, I'd get fired. Faster than I could say my own name.
Tom Cruise is an actor, and has had, up to now, a successful career, which he attributes to finding the Church of Scientology. But it looks like he's starting to bite the hand that has been feeding him, and it's probably only a matter of time until his career deflates because of this. I personally will not go to see his new movie, although it looks fantastic. Why should I pay my $12.00, which will ultimately end up in his pocket (I'm sure that he was intelligent enough to get percentage points of the movie) and into the Church's coffers? No way, man. They can kiss my ass.
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is the way to go, I think.
Why fondue is better than a colonic cleansing
I caved last night and took a Bonine tablet before we went out to dinner. That weird rocking feeling has faded a bit-I read on the Net that taking motion sickess tablets could help......well, it did!
We went with my friend M and her sorta-kinda "friend" (she's not looking to rush into things, especially with the whole divorce, which I don't blame her for, since her soon-to-be-ex is a total asshole) Sexy Josh.....well, that's what I call him-he's got a great voice, especially over the phone...he'd probably do well as a phone-sex operator-for fondue last night. Yummy yummy. But of course, it's lethal the next day (or within a few hours, depending on what you get). I swear I think that I shit out everything I ate on the boat as well as dinner last night. At least I won't have a pooch in my hottie bathing suit now.
I went for my progesterone bloodwork this morning-there's a new Quest lab that opened that's two miles from my house. I got there and it was DEAD, so I was in and out in about 10 minutes (including paperwork processing). I think I found my new favorite place for bloodwork-the hours are better, the place is nice, and it's closer for work. Woot!
Today we're going to the shore to stay with friends until Monday-the friends that got married last year up in Vermont. We're all getting together to hang, eat, and watch the fireworks from the beach, which is cool. Then, I start camp on the 6th, as well as rehearsals again for "Oliver" which is in three weeks-yikes! I can't believe it's already July. Now it's just the waiting game until the old whore AF shows up, then it's FET time.........should be an interesting few weeks, huh?
We went with my friend M and her sorta-kinda "friend" (she's not looking to rush into things, especially with the whole divorce, which I don't blame her for, since her soon-to-be-ex is a total asshole) Sexy Josh.....well, that's what I call him-he's got a great voice, especially over the phone...he'd probably do well as a phone-sex operator-for fondue last night. Yummy yummy. But of course, it's lethal the next day (or within a few hours, depending on what you get). I swear I think that I shit out everything I ate on the boat as well as dinner last night. At least I won't have a pooch in my hottie bathing suit now.
I went for my progesterone bloodwork this morning-there's a new Quest lab that opened that's two miles from my house. I got there and it was DEAD, so I was in and out in about 10 minutes (including paperwork processing). I think I found my new favorite place for bloodwork-the hours are better, the place is nice, and it's closer for work. Woot!
Today we're going to the shore to stay with friends until Monday-the friends that got married last year up in Vermont. We're all getting together to hang, eat, and watch the fireworks from the beach, which is cool. Then, I start camp on the 6th, as well as rehearsals again for "Oliver" which is in three weeks-yikes! I can't believe it's already July. Now it's just the waiting game until the old whore AF shows up, then it's FET time.........should be an interesting few weeks, huh?
Friday, July 01, 2005
I'm baaack...........
There's laundry all over the place, I can't find my glasses (they're in my carry-on somewhere) and I'm tired as all hell......
I must be home from my lovely holiday!
Hey, anyone know how long it will take for me to get my "land-legs"? I totally still feel like everything's moving-it's weirding me out........
Bermuda was gorgeous-everyone was so nice, and the weather was perfect. The ship was HUGE-I think around 3,100 passengers-but it never really felt crowded at all. The only thing, in my opinion, that sorta sucked was the fact that we had an inside stateroom. Because there was no window, I had no concept of time, even though I had brought a travel clock. I need the sunlight-it was way too disconcerting not to know whether it was day or night.
I went snorkeling for the first time and it was pretty cool. We actually had two trips booked, one a kayak and snorkel trip, and the other was just snorkeling. I loved the fact that I got to kayak, but I freaked out and couldn't snorkel, so the next day G literally held my hand and we went off. The living coral was cool, but scared the hell out of me-I kept thinking that it was going to capture me (silly, yes, I know) and drag me to the bottom. The tour guide threw a bit of bait into the water, so we got to see all kinds of cool fish roaming around. Then we had some rum swizzles (yummy) and admired the blue water.......I'll try to post some pics that I took, if I can figure out how to do it.
All in all, it was a great week-had LOTS of sex, relaxed by the pool, and ate my face off. The only sad part was when, I finally had mobile service on the island, I spoke to my mom and she told me that my great-aunt (my grandmother's sister) had passed away on Tuesday. She had been diagnosed with cancer about two months or so ago, and it was so bad that the docs gave her only six months, recommended a morphine drip and for her to go home. The funeral was this morning, which sucked because I didn't get to go, but I'll have to send a card. It's sad, not only because she had to die in pain, but because she was the last of my grandmother's siblings left. We just celebrated her 80th birthday last year, so at least she was able to lead fo full life, unlike my grandmother, who died when she was only 61 (of ovarian cancer). We were supposed to go out this summer to visit her, kind of like a goodbye, but it all happened too fast. At least she isn't in pain anymore......
That's all for now. I've had lots brewing in my brain this last week that I'll write about later.
I must be home from my lovely holiday!
Hey, anyone know how long it will take for me to get my "land-legs"? I totally still feel like everything's moving-it's weirding me out........
Bermuda was gorgeous-everyone was so nice, and the weather was perfect. The ship was HUGE-I think around 3,100 passengers-but it never really felt crowded at all. The only thing, in my opinion, that sorta sucked was the fact that we had an inside stateroom. Because there was no window, I had no concept of time, even though I had brought a travel clock. I need the sunlight-it was way too disconcerting not to know whether it was day or night.
I went snorkeling for the first time and it was pretty cool. We actually had two trips booked, one a kayak and snorkel trip, and the other was just snorkeling. I loved the fact that I got to kayak, but I freaked out and couldn't snorkel, so the next day G literally held my hand and we went off. The living coral was cool, but scared the hell out of me-I kept thinking that it was going to capture me (silly, yes, I know) and drag me to the bottom. The tour guide threw a bit of bait into the water, so we got to see all kinds of cool fish roaming around. Then we had some rum swizzles (yummy) and admired the blue water.......I'll try to post some pics that I took, if I can figure out how to do it.
All in all, it was a great week-had LOTS of sex, relaxed by the pool, and ate my face off. The only sad part was when, I finally had mobile service on the island, I spoke to my mom and she told me that my great-aunt (my grandmother's sister) had passed away on Tuesday. She had been diagnosed with cancer about two months or so ago, and it was so bad that the docs gave her only six months, recommended a morphine drip and for her to go home. The funeral was this morning, which sucked because I didn't get to go, but I'll have to send a card. It's sad, not only because she had to die in pain, but because she was the last of my grandmother's siblings left. We just celebrated her 80th birthday last year, so at least she was able to lead fo full life, unlike my grandmother, who died when she was only 61 (of ovarian cancer). We were supposed to go out this summer to visit her, kind of like a goodbye, but it all happened too fast. At least she isn't in pain anymore......
That's all for now. I've had lots brewing in my brain this last week that I'll write about later.
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