caerula's Diaryland Diary
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stealing links
Links lifted from Changed Priorities Ahead, a cool local chick:
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Add a fortune to your website or blog, click here. |
Also, my nifty link of the day: Library Romances. I need these books.
11:07 a.m. - February 16, 2004
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who even uses tureens, anyway?
I would have had a nice weekend if I a) hadn�t had to go to a bridal shower on Saturday and b) hadn�t lost Blue�s Vday present and card.
The shower wasn�t bad, but I was annoyed about having it on Valentine�s Day, first of all, and secondly, it was in a building with No. Heat. Which is bad, in Michigan in February. It�s a replica one-room schoolhouse on the campus of our local school system, and there�s also No. Bathroom. I don�t know what they were thinking. They had a propane portable heater, but it didn�t do much. And anyone who had to pee had to trek over to the high school.
The shower was for my oldest friend, E, who I�ve known since first grade. We aren�t as close as we were through school, but we�ve kept in touch and get together occasionally, and I am very happy that she�s happy. She�s marrying a guy she met online, in a Mormon singles chat room, which I would not have thought even existed, considering most Mormons don�t stay single very long once they finish school and missions and whatnot. He has two boys around YMB�s age, and they are all moving from Alaska to live with E. Really. I keep offering to loan her YMB so she can practice this stepmom thing, but she hasn�t taken me up on that yet. Huh.
Anyway, so I and my mom were possibly the only non-Mormons at the shower. Tee was there with Bubbles and the Diva, since they attend the same ward as E�s family, and as usual she sat me down and quizzed me intensely about my life. I don�t know why she does that every time I see her, it�s not like anything ever changes very much. There were several young women trailing babies and toddlers, and two pregnant women, so you can imagine how much I enjoyed that. Never mind the three women sitting behind me while E was opening presents, loudly discussing breast-feeding � one stridently proclaiming how relieved she was when she stopped, at seven weeks, because it was �so inconvenient� and the other going on about still nursing her 18-month-old on demand because it�s the best way to settle him down. I wanted to turn around and say �do you mind keeping it down? You�re disturbing the barren.�
The highlight of the shower was when E received, from an elderly aunt, a giant soup tureen in the form of a duck. The handle of the ladle was the tail feathers.
So, yeah, we don�t do much for V-day as a rule, it being so close to my birthday and a silly made-up holiday anyway. But we get each other little joke gifts and cards. Last week I went to Target and got funny t-shirts for both Blue and YMB, and pj pants for Blue, and cards and some candy. See, I had this whole theme; Blue�s tshirt is red and says Warning: Hot and the pj pants had chile peppers on them, and I got red-hots and cinnamon heart candy. Cute, no? Well, I was under the impression that I�d brought the bags in and tossed them in the sewing room, where the boys never go, but Saturday morning when I went to get the stuff I found only the t-shirts in the bag. We looked all over the house in case the cats had dragged the other one off somewhere, and checked the car, and even called the store. Nada. Apparently they were sucked into the Hellmouth, or something. Meanwhile the boys gave me awesome white chocolate peppermint truffles, Powerpuff Girls stickers, and tulips. Sigh. I felt sucky about the whole thing, although Blue was really nice about it.
Sunday was lovely, however, since I didn�t have to leave the house. I was awake too early, as usual, but the boys went food shopping in the late morning and left me to take a nap, which I did, and then proceeded to take a long hot bath. Finished the Charlaine Harris ARC. Knitted on my long orange scarf thing. Ripped out several rows of stitches. Untangled a nasty knot. Got disgusted and put it away. Took another nap. Didn�t spend much time online as I�ve jammed my thumb, and using the mouse actually hurts. (I�m typing without using the thumb today, which is harder then you�d think.) Watched ice skating and went to bed early. A beautifully boring day.
10:08 a.m. - February 16, 2004
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the hooha monologues
I�ve always heard that once you get pregnant, you lose all sense of modesty, what with all the poking around down there. I was reflecting on this yesterday, lying on the exam table with my feet in stirrups and a probe in my hoo-ha, and came to the conclusion that if I ever do get pregnant, I will have no modesty left to lose. Nothing could possibly be worse than being in that position, with the ultrasound machine turned so you can�t even see what�s going on, and hearing a knock on the door, while from somewhere under your knees the doc yells �come in!�
Except this: when said intrusion proves to be a tech asking the doc if he needs the other doc to come take a look, which he says he does. And tech goes off to fetch the other doc, and comes back and reports that other doc is in a procedure. And first doc is trying to hold the ultrasound probe still, and there�s a catheter pumping dye through your tubes, which is NOT comfortable. And first doc says to tech, �I�ll go talk to her,� and directs the observing intern to make sure the probe doesn�t move. And intern is holding catheter up in one hand and the other is down somewhere you fortunately can�t see, and to do this she has to lean over your left leg so that she�s sort of straddling you with her arms, and leaning over your stomach. And then she looks at you and says �So, I guess we�re best friends now� and you start laughing, except you can�t because you don�t want the probe to shift because you don�t want the doc to have to poke around down there to get it in the right place again. Because that�s not terribly comfortable either. And then your feet fall asleep. And then the first doc comes back and says second doc will be right in. And second doc, whom you�ve never met, comes in and takes a look and nods, and apparently you�ve been lying there with tubes and probes all up in your cooter for 20 minutes just so the doctors could confirm that everything looks fine.
Seriously. I mean, I�m glad my tubes are open, because that�s one less thing to worry about, and there�s no evidence of adhesions around any of the healed-over incisions. I was hardly surprised to find out there are cysts on my ovaries; I do, after all, have poly-CYSTIC ovarian syndrome. But did we need to have a party in the ultrasound room to find this out? The docs were all very nice, at least, and kept asking me how I was doing, like �Well, doc, I�m having a blast, how are you doing down there?� And when I finally asked if I could see they did turn the machine so I could see the screen, where glowing dye was bubbling merrily along.
So why am I doing this study again? We�ve decided we want to adopt. The idea of getting pregnant is rather scary to me, what with having to go off the medicines that keep me feeling decent, and the possibility that my sad little immune system will decide that a fetus is something to fight rather than protect, and the horrible experience Kitty had when she gave birth; we�d probably be better off not going there at all, never mind all the things we might possibly pass down to any natural child of ours � depression, anxiety disorder, ADHD, fat thighs, a complete lack of coordination and grace. But there�s still this little whisper inside that�s saying we haven�t tried everything, and there�s still a chance, and we should at least find out. Never mind the total lack of the $20,000 or so we need to adopt, and the complete and total freeness of this study. So here we are again. Whoo-hoo. Ha.
2:01 p.m. - February 12, 2004
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