Fog Lifting.

I am about to tell you a secret. It doesn't have a happy ending. Or maybe it does - you'll have to decide.

I am now coming out of a fog, induced by several weeks of drug induced lethargy and exhaustion. It was prescribed to me by my new OBGYN.


I like my new OBGYN.

He's very honest and forthright about things, and so when I went in with one of these....

he did an ultrasound straight away. And wouldn't you know, I was unbelievably hardly even pregnant at all - only about 5 weeks - so small you could BARELY SEE anything on the ultrasound. I saw a round circle, which he called the egg sack. I asked him if anyone was home in said egg sack and he said he couldn't tell - but not to worry, at this stage it's normal not to see.


But given my age and spotting which was occurring he put me on said drug - PROMETRIUM which has been kicking my ass for weeks. The lethargy, the overwhelming tiredness has truly not been conducive to starting a new job - let me tell you. Plus the moody, hormone overload my husband has had to endure. Prometrium reminds me of Nyqil - don't make any plans.

You take progesterone every 6 hours and tell me it doesn't make you half crazy. I could barely function some days but still slogged through the minimum. Get up, get the kid up, get him to the bus stop - get me to work.

Work, work, lunch, work work, go home, collapse. Cry a lot. Be unable to eat properly, go to bed early. Feel sick and like you're going to just barf 24/7.


Then I went back for my 8 week visit - and another ultrasound.


I am told, that the positive side of this situation is truly medical science. He could take a quick look inside and see that what we had was not in fact a baby, but a clump of fertilized cells that never actually grew properly, and that our growth rate was basically zero from where it was three weeks prior.
He tells me, in his office after the ultrasound, that back in the pre-ultrasound days, they had to wait and wait for the heartbeat. And if there was no heart beat - some time after month 4, only THEN could they call it.
So I'm glad, that science was there for me, at week 8 with a heads up that all was not well.

I quit taking the Prometrium on Thursday. On Saturday morning I woke up and fired off an email to my friend Cajsa, to tell her that I FELT BETTER. I felt normal.

The fog was lifting.

Was I sad? Yes, we were both very sad. I think we were "pregnant" long enough to settle into the idea. But, I'm also so thankful that it wasn't three months later - and suddenly gee we're sorry this isn't a baby.

Without the hormones mother nature is taking her course. I had the option of a d&c but didn't really see the point, of course I'll go if something seems awry.

But I feel better, truly, while feeling bad. Maybe I felt bad because my body didn't want me to be forcing it to keep my little cluster of human cells, and that contributed to my lack of well being. All I know is, that despite feeling terrible, I still sort of feel better.

Heartbroken, but better.

Fog Lifting.

I am about to tell you a secret. It doesn't have a happy ending. Or maybe it does - you'll have to decide.

I am now coming out of a fog, induced by several weeks of drug induced lethargy and exhaustion. It was prescribed to me by my new OBGYN.


I like my new OBGYN.

He's very honest and forthright about things, and so when I went in with one of these....

he did an ultrasound straight away. And wouldn't you know, I was unbelievably hardly even pregnant at all - only about 5 weeks - so small you could BARELY SEE anything on the ultrasound. I saw a round circle, which he called the egg sack. I asked him if anyone was home in said egg sack and he said he couldn't tell - but not to worry, at this stage it's normal not to see.


But given my age and spotting which was occurring he put me on said drug - PROMETRIUM which has been kicking my ass for weeks. The lethargy, the overwhelming tiredness has truly not been conducive to starting a new job - let me tell you. Plus the moody, hormone overload my husband has had to endure. Prometrium reminds me of Nyqil - don't make any plans.

You take progesterone every 6 hours and tell me it doesn't make you half crazy. I could barely function some days but still slogged through the minimum. Get up, get the kid up, get him to the bus stop - get me to work.

Work, work, lunch, work work, go home, collapse. Cry a lot. Be unable to eat properly, go to bed early. Feel sick and like you're going to just barf 24/7.


Then I went back for my 8 week visit - and another ultrasound.


I am told, that the positive side of this situation is truly medical science. He could take a quick look inside and see that what we had was not in fact a baby, but a clump of fertilized cells that never actually grew properly, and that our growth rate was basically zero from where it was three weeks prior.
He tells me, in his office after the ultrasound, that back in the pre-ultrasound days, they had to wait and wait for the heartbeat. And if there was no heart beat - some time after month 4, only THEN could they call it.
So I'm glad, that science was there for me, at week 8 with a heads up that all was not well.

I quit taking the Prometrium on Thursday. On Saturday morning I woke up and fired off an email to my friend Cajsa, to tell her that I FELT BETTER. I felt normal.

The fog was lifting.

Was I sad? Yes, we were both very sad. I think we were "pregnant" long enough to settle into the idea. But, I'm also so thankful that it wasn't three months later - and suddenly gee we're sorry this isn't a baby.

Without the hormones mother nature is taking her course. I had the option of a d&c but didn't really see the point, of course I'll go if something seems awry.

But I feel better, truly, while feeling bad. Maybe I felt bad because my body didn't want me to be forcing it to keep my little cluster of human cells, and that contributed to my lack of well being. All I know is, that despite feeling terrible, I still sort of feel better.

Heartbroken, but better.

SO WHAT? I'm Still a ROCK STAR!

Okay, so I'm reading this book. And I'm trying to dig it. My kids have finally gotten out of the phase where they resent me reading so I can do a bit of it again......but I'm so out of the loop - that I dunno what I ever want to read.
Which is what lead me to my latest book. It just looked sort of funny to me, light, meaningless drivel but it was aimed to the 40 something crowd. Sort of a "we can be cool too" theme.....and having turned the corner.....well.....I picked it up.

Sigh.

First of all I never cease to be amazed at HOW some people get published. Second of all, well....I hardly know how to express my disdain.......seriously I'm only about 10 pages in and I've had Jimmy Choos, Miu Miu, Prada and someone else tossed about at me like I'm a slag for not wearing all of them.

It is the literary equivalent of Vogue. (yeah I'm slamming Vogue for it's lack of literary quality who cares?)

But, reading the words in this book feels the same as looking at pictures in VOGUE. It's that same "you are not this cool but if you acquired X you WOULD be" sort of feeling. I don't know any 40 year olds like this - and frankly I've known some really successful people in my life.

This isn't real. I don't mind a little escapism (HELL A LOT OF ESCAPISM)but you can't dress up the girls from Sex in the City on a book cover as being "those funny girls next door". They aren't. And when you present fashion, plastic surgery and drop hip NYC references in lieu of actual plot development.......well.......

I'm not impressed. I'm bored.

Frankly I'd rather read some of that new crap Anne Rice has been churning out and I think we can all agree that she's been writing absolute shite for about 10 years.

Drivel, in it's literary form, should be fun. It should be Jackie Collins - all sex and booze, or Anne Rice's newer stuff - all Vampires and forlorn creatures of the night. There should be something interesting and mindless but a giggle.

I'd give you the name, but well, I don't even want you to go looking for this book out of curiosity. It's that bad.

And all I can think, after reading many of these pages and having this book try to impose it's superiority on me.......is that while I don't know any 40 year olds like this.......man I know some REALLY interesting ones. I know people with fascinating jobs, fascinating hobbies......personalities.....people who are brilliant, people who are creative........

While we might not be NYC cool for not owning a pair of Jimmy Choos.......all I can say is that Pink is right.

SO WHAT? I'M STILL A ROCK STAR!!!!!!!!!!!!

That anthem works for lots of situations.

OH - and if you are interested, the WORST book ever written is called HOUSE OF LEAVES . Try to read it. I dare you.
It is the only book, in the history of the world, that I purposefully did not finish. I'll even finish the crap I'm reading right now. But House of Leaves? NEVER.

SO WHAT? I'm Still a ROCK STAR!

Okay, so I'm reading this book. And I'm trying to dig it. My kids have finally gotten out of the phase where they resent me reading so I can do a bit of it again......but I'm so out of the loop - that I dunno what I ever want to read.
Which is what lead me to my latest book. It just looked sort of funny to me, light, meaningless drivel but it was aimed to the 40 something crowd. Sort of a "we can be cool too" theme.....and having turned the corner.....well.....I picked it up.

Sigh.

First of all I never cease to be amazed at HOW some people get published. Second of all, well....I hardly know how to express my disdain.......seriously I'm only about 10 pages in and I've had Jimmy Choos, Miu Miu, Prada and someone else tossed about at me like I'm a slag for not wearing all of them.

It is the literary equivalent of Vogue. (yeah I'm slamming Vogue for it's lack of literary quality who cares?)

But, reading the words in this book feels the same as looking at pictures in VOGUE. It's that same "you are not this cool but if you acquired X you WOULD be" sort of feeling. I don't know any 40 year olds like this - and frankly I've known some really successful people in my life.

This isn't real. I don't mind a little escapism (HELL A LOT OF ESCAPISM)but you can't dress up the girls from Sex in the City on a book cover as being "those funny girls next door". They aren't. And when you present fashion, plastic surgery and drop hip NYC references in lieu of actual plot development.......well.......

I'm not impressed. I'm bored.

Frankly I'd rather read some of that new crap Anne Rice has been churning out and I think we can all agree that she's been writing absolute shite for about 10 years.

Drivel, in it's literary form, should be fun. It should be Jackie Collins - all sex and booze, or Anne Rice's newer stuff - all Vampires and forlorn creatures of the night. There should be something interesting and mindless but a giggle.

I'd give you the name, but well, I don't even want you to go looking for this book out of curiosity. It's that bad.

And all I can think, after reading many of these pages and having this book try to impose it's superiority on me.......is that while I don't know any 40 year olds like this.......man I know some REALLY interesting ones. I know people with fascinating jobs, fascinating hobbies......personalities.....people who are brilliant, people who are creative........

While we might not be NYC cool for not owning a pair of Jimmy Choos.......all I can say is that Pink is right.

SO WHAT? I'M STILL A ROCK STAR!!!!!!!!!!!!

That anthem works for lots of situations.

OH - and if you are interested, the WORST book ever written is called HOUSE OF LEAVES . Try to read it. I dare you.
It is the only book, in the history of the world, that I purposefully did not finish. I'll even finish the crap I'm reading right now. But House of Leaves? NEVER.

There, But For The Grace Of God, Go I

*When we used to go to Disney World, I'd look at the parents of children with severe disabilities, children in wheel chairs - hooked up to portable machines of various ilk.....and my heart would just ache for them - and their parents. And these words would tumble through my mind.......There, but for the grace of God, go I. I would thank every power that my own children were NORMAL. My own children were OK.

Today my husband and I took the hands our our twins and walked into this building.

And our hearts were in our throats. And we smiled, and pretended like everything was going to be alright.

You see, years ago, a witch stood over my children and cursed them - comparing them to an autistic child they knew. I felt the curse sweep over them when the words were uttered.....and denied it then.

Or maybe it wasn't a witch, but a friend - just recognizing a behavior. And in truth - it wasn't even said in relevance to autism, but a behavior of babies. But when your child is "normal" and their child is "not".....you balk at comparisons, even if only in your heart.

Maybe it was the flu shots - which may or may not have contained thimerasol we now find out. We don't know if they did, or did not. Some did.

When they were three, we took them to the pediatrician and expressed concern. "They don't talk WITH us - not back and forth." we told him. He told us we were wrong, that nothing was the matter. He gave us a list of things you HAD to have to have "autism" and basically told us to piss off and that we were yuppie parents looking for an excuse for why they were behind.

I took them when they were four and he looked at me and said "Well we're looking at autism."

And I wanted to gouge out his eyes.

With a spoon.

Then he gave me referrals for places that don't take insurance, and that charge $700 per child per assessment. Or hundreds of dollars per hour, but they GUARANTEE results.

And I wanted to gouge out his eyes.

With a spoon.

And then we took my oldest son to register for school, and the special ed teachers clocked us and basically bum rushed us.

At the time were were horrified and scared. No one wants the special ed teachers to recognize their children as "off". But do you know what they did?

They helped us get to this building.

And we took them inside, and some wonderful people evaluated them.

We learned that our county isn't fucking around when it comes to developmental delay. They have resources and facilities and I may never have been this impressed with a school system in my life. (and I come from a family of educators - so I do have a little bit of experience with what schools offer).

They told us good things. And they told us the next steps. They didn't write them off - and they felt like although we have delay they have some great skills and they acknowledged everything that they do well.

They also talked to us about the pieces they are missing - and defined our next steps.

We left happy - because now there is a plan.

And the witch's curse was lifted, because now however we define their challenges - that there are solutions.

Not being afraid any more seems like half the battle won.

There, But For The Grace Of God, Go I

*When we used to go to Disney World, I'd look at the parents of children with severe disabilities, children in wheel chairs - hooked up to portable machines of various ilk.....and my heart would just ache for them - and their parents. And these words would tumble through my mind.......There, but for the grace of God, go I. I would thank every power that my own children were NORMAL. My own children were OK.

Today my husband and I took the hands our our twins and walked into this building.

And our hearts were in our throats. And we smiled, and pretended like everything was going to be alright.

You see, years ago, a witch stood over my children and cursed them - comparing them to an autistic child they knew. I felt the curse sweep over them when the words were uttered.....and denied it then.

Or maybe it wasn't a witch, but a friend - just recognizing a behavior. And in truth - it wasn't even said in relevance to autism, but a behavior of babies. But when your child is "normal" and their child is "not".....you balk at comparisons, even if only in your heart.

Maybe it was the flu shots - which may or may not have contained thimerasol we now find out. We don't know if they did, or did not. Some did.

When they were three, we took them to the pediatrician and expressed concern. "They don't talk WITH us - not back and forth." we told him. He told us we were wrong, that nothing was the matter. He gave us a list of things you HAD to have to have "autism" and basically told us to piss off and that we were yuppie parents looking for an excuse for why they were behind.

I took them when they were four and he looked at me and said "Well we're looking at autism."

And I wanted to gouge out his eyes.

With a spoon.

Then he gave me referrals for places that don't take insurance, and that charge $700 per child per assessment. Or hundreds of dollars per hour, but they GUARANTEE results.

And I wanted to gouge out his eyes.

With a spoon.

And then we took my oldest son to register for school, and the special ed teachers clocked us and basically bum rushed us.

At the time were were horrified and scared. No one wants the special ed teachers to recognize their children as "off". But do you know what they did?

They helped us get to this building.

And we took them inside, and some wonderful people evaluated them.

We learned that our county isn't fucking around when it comes to developmental delay. They have resources and facilities and I may never have been this impressed with a school system in my life. (and I come from a family of educators - so I do have a little bit of experience with what schools offer).

They told us good things. And they told us the next steps. They didn't write them off - and they felt like although we have delay they have some great skills and they acknowledged everything that they do well.

They also talked to us about the pieces they are missing - and defined our next steps.

We left happy - because now there is a plan.

And the witch's curse was lifted, because now however we define their challenges - that there are solutions.

Not being afraid any more seems like half the battle won.

MAN What Did He DO?

post script

I only wish I could've snapped for you a pic of the "I got me a L'Oreal Chunking highlights kit from 1994 in both red and blonde and I look hot now that the bastard is gone" female that this vehicle attached to.

Dear God - I suspect he fled in terror.

MAN What Did He DO?

post script

I only wish I could've snapped for you a pic of the "I got me a L'Oreal Chunking highlights kit from 1994 in both red and blonde and I look hot now that the bastard is gone" female that this vehicle attached to.

Dear God - I suspect he fled in terror.

The One Where I Get All The Ailments I Ever Mocked

Seriously, Carpal Tunnel is one of the most bullshit conditions. Everyone I ever met who had it was a scammer - someone trying to rack up workers comp time, screw around not working etc. And they were people who were scammers in OTHER aspects of their lives, so it was always normal that I'd find their sudden inability to work yet still get paid suspect.
Case in point - the girl who was not allowed to do any motion which brought her thumb and forefinger together.
This rules out pick up paper, filing, holding a pen........I mean, WHAT the hell are you supposed to do for 8 hours in this condition? Funny, she'd sit and write letters until we caught her each time and made her put the pen down.
So after almost two decades in the call center biz where I manage those prone to this repetitive motion condition - GUESS WHAT?

Yeah , I've got it.

I took my brace off to write this although my wrist is howling a bit.

It's annoying - it first started happening in small doses a couple of years ago and with the configuration of my new office (twasn't ergonomic - now IS) my wrists just went bonko.

Once again, I'm visited with a condition I previously thought was stupid.

Now Cancer.......CANCER Is BRILLIANT. (see my strategy?)

The One Where I Get All The Ailments I Ever Mocked

Seriously, Carpal Tunnel is one of the most bullshit conditions. Everyone I ever met who had it was a scammer - someone trying to rack up workers comp time, screw around not working etc. And they were people who were scammers in OTHER aspects of their lives, so it was always normal that I'd find their sudden inability to work yet still get paid suspect.
Case in point - the girl who was not allowed to do any motion which brought her thumb and forefinger together.
This rules out pick up paper, filing, holding a pen........I mean, WHAT the hell are you supposed to do for 8 hours in this condition? Funny, she'd sit and write letters until we caught her each time and made her put the pen down.
So after almost two decades in the call center biz where I manage those prone to this repetitive motion condition - GUESS WHAT?

Yeah , I've got it.

I took my brace off to write this although my wrist is howling a bit.

It's annoying - it first started happening in small doses a couple of years ago and with the configuration of my new office (twasn't ergonomic - now IS) my wrists just went bonko.

Once again, I'm visited with a condition I previously thought was stupid.

Now Cancer.......CANCER Is BRILLIANT. (see my strategy?)