Life in my head...

I'm bad

I found myself laughing in a cemetery today, I'm ashamed to admit.  We had gone driving out in the country so we could finish listening to something on NPR (yes, we have a radio in the house, but it was easier to go see the path of last month's tornado while the show finished) and we decided to visit Tim's sister's grave.  There was a fairly new grave there, and as I was headed back to the car I read the epitaph on the back of the tombstone.  I stopped thinking, "there's something familiar...is that? no, can't be.  OH DEAR LORD IT'S FREEBIRD ON A TOMBSTONE!"  Now, I know people in other parts of the country think Alabamians are illiterate cousin lovers, and I have done my best in my travels to combat these myths.  After seeing the lyrics to Freebird on a tombstone, I've decided that maybe these aren't myths.  I just hope that the people driving by thought I was prostrate with grief instead of doubled over with laughter.

I feel like writing again

My head has gotten so much better!  I'm even trying to wean off all my preventatives.  Potentially stupid, I know, but I'm trying to grow a bebe here, and Class C meds often conflict with les enfants.  No pregnancy yet, but we're working hard on it.  And by working hard, I mean spending money.  This month it was $1,400.  Pills, injections, and an IUI.  I'll find out on Oct. 29 if this one took.

Harry Potter, pictures, and job interviews

On a positive note, my migraines have been very compliant and nice lately.  Pain free completely? No.  Bearable? Absolutely.  Lamictal is my new best friend.  And Toradol injections.  But on to the rest of life.

I have been waiting in breathless anticipation for an opportunity to buy Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on ebay.  Why ebay?  Because my OCD commands that I must read the British versions.  So, I get it.  I start reading.  And I realize very quickly that I am lost.  I am lost because I completely skipped Book 6!  So, off to ebay again, only to discover that Half Blood Prince is outrageously priced.  I've contacted one of my favorite British Sellers, and she says she thinks she can get it, but until then I'm frothing at the mouth.  Oh, the agony!  And this is one of the many reasons I need an anti-depressant.  Because any normal person would just go to Barnes & Noble and buy the damn paperback of the thing and have done with it.  But.I.just.can't.do.that.

Next, I have lost my bridal portrait.  We've never had it framed, and it's always been stored in a box with my college diploma and a couple of other important pictures.  We have also been collecting photographic art for years, waiting to have a "real" home to hang them in.  So I decide the other day that now was the time.  And I could only find 3 of the art pieces.  And frenzied searching ensued.  I adore Tim, but sometimes he drives me nuts.  He promised he would find them when he got home.  He went straight to the closet I'd already torn apart 3 times and said, "Hmmm, there not in here."  And this is why women snap and poison their husbands.  I KNOW they're not in there!  Finally I find the rest of the art in the bottom of one of the many unpacked boxes that populate our home, and now they are at the frame shop.  But that leaves my wedding portrait.  I cannot find it anywhere.  Tim has made me promise not to dismantle any more closets, and he has assured me that he will find it.  I'll believe it when I see it.

I've been interviewing for jobs outside of labor & delivery.  After 10 years of nursing, I think I finally deserve dayshift.  But my career path of traveling around the country and going to law school has completely removed me from the dayshift path.  So, I'm looking for jobs in outpatient centers.  I still do my birthing classes, but I need a break from babies.  It's too hard to watch everyone else in the world have babies while you're spending all your extra income at the fertility clinic. 

So, that's me now, finally updating my neglected blog.  But that's the problem with blogging about a life full of sickness--sometimes you just don't feel like talking about it.

I've been neglectful

I guess to make it easier, I'll just list some of the recent happenings:

The cat (or a neighborhood cat) vomited all over the roof and windshield of my car.  I had to rise at an ungodly early hour and drive to the nearest car wash.

My brother is currently backpacking in Europe.  He's probably in Rome right now.

Tomorrow is my 10th wedding anniversary.  I'm hoping to get a baby for my gift.  Isn't the new decade gift "fetus"?

I spent last night in the ER of the town's smaller hospital.  I have avoided it for years because the last time I was there I was told that "HEADACHES don't get IVs".  Last night was wonderful, though.  I got my magnesium sulfate IV along with some excellent care.  I've already called and left the nurse manager a glowing message about how great her nurses are.  I got a back rub along with my IV and lots of kindness.

I tried to transfer out of my job, and it didn't work.  I'm still on the lookout for a new job but it will have to be within my current system.  The corporation has a monopoly in the area, and the only other option (the state) pays much less.  In the meantime, I'll try to bridle my tongue, and I'll work in pain a lot more than I have been.

My migraines are awful.  I've been horribly sick lately.  I've been taken off Keppra, and I'm now trying Trileptal.  Even after last night's ER visit, I'm still not pain-free.

Yard work

For the first time in our decade (almost) of marriage, we finally have a yard to really work in.  Since we moved in late last summer, we pretty much just did maintenance yard work.  Today, though, oh today, we really started "our yard".  My cold has finally subsided to simple stuffy nose, my pulled muscle from coughing is just about healed, and I was migraine-free, so we headed to Home Depot.  Of course, being a Southern woman, the first stop was the tomato plants.  I truly do believe the line in Steel Magnolias about that just being what you do, you grow tomatoes.  Heck, I rarely ever eat the things!  But I just feel like I must grow them.  So I spent the afternoon planting tomatoes while wearing a floppy straw sun hat.  I'm such a cliche sometimes.  We also bought a couple of pepper plants and some catnip for the Princess.  Our biggest project was the phlox.  We have a nice cement walk from the front.  Between the walk and the porch, the previous owners planted nice shrubs and several rose bushes.  Lovely, but that is the end of the landscaping, except for the trees.  So we made a small start by buying lovely lavender phlox to outline the walk.  We got 8 of the 20 planted, so tomorrow will probably be a busy day!  As much as I enjoy flowers, I know that anything I plant must be a perennial.  The idea of having to plant something every season is just too daunting.  Maybe this time next year, with some more hard work, I'll have a lovely flowering yard.

Good news for a change!

I had the stress test, and it was great!  Woohoo, fertility treatment is now back in my plans.  The cardiologist was quick to tell me that he couldn't guarantee I wouldn't have a DVT or stroke, but he couldn't give that guarantee to an 18 year old aerobics instructor, either.  I do have to continue seeing the cardiologist for the rest of my life, which sucks.  I also have to go on a search for an endocrinologist.  The cardiologist insists that I see an endocrinologist, but the one he sent me to is simply awful.  I hate doctors who do not spend time with patients and don't read charts.  Coming into an exam room and saying, "So how have you been since we last saw you?" when it's my first visit definitely doesn't instill a lot of confidence.  The rest of the visit was all downhill from there.  Yes, I'm overweight, but losing weight is not a "sure way to get pregnant".  I've had the issues I'm dealing with for years, going back to when I weighed 90 pounds and was in my early twenties.

It's now spring in the South, and my migraines are finally coming out of their fall/winter cycle.  I've felt pretty good lately.  Maybe it's the Lortab I've been taking since my oral surgery a week ago!  Probably not, though, since I've pretty much gotten to the stage in healing where Magic Mouthwash will cure the pain.  So maybe (please, God) my migraines will only occur with periods and tornadoes. 

I'm listening to Back in Black, AC/DC
I'm reading Black House by Stephen King and Peter Straub

Another delay

I had my visit with Cardiologist #2.  He was just as unhelpful as the last one, but at least he was kind.  Apparently, he doesn't care for people like me (his words).  "Like me" means astronomically high cholesterol.  So, I'm off to see an endocrinologist.  Cardio #2 did kindly offer a stress test, and if it's okay I'll probably get my letter to the fertility docs.

I'm reading Aldous Huxley.
I'm listening Ralph Stanley.

Update on the baby chase

Well, I recently discovered that my cholesterol is high.  Scary high.  Over 500 high.  So, understandably the fertility doc demanded I get cleared by a cardiologist before they will see me again.  I picked the cardiologist with the earliest appointment, and I'm regretting it.  I had two appointments with him, and the last one left me pissed off and in tears.  He said to me:  "You really need to think about this; you really shouldn't pass your genes along to a child."  "<sigh> You can just adopt, you know!" and then he left me in his office in tears without a backwards glance.  I'm now trying to get an appointment in the only other practice in town, but it's an uphill battle.  Apparently, "professional courtesy" dictates that they not accept me since I'm already a patient of Dr. Asshole, and they'll have to "consider it".  I'm trying to keep my spirits up and my cholesterol down, but I'm really sad about the whole situation right now.  Off to eat some Cheerios with an oatmeal chaser.

A merry Chrsitmas!

It is now the 19th of December, and I'm through!!!!  Done with shopping, done with wrapping, even!  I do have to put all the bows on the gifts, but doing it now would be an exercise in futility.  The cat would just pull them off, one by one.  As it is, she's having fun with name tags.  Gift giving may end up being interesting; "Here, open this.  Rats, that's not yours.  Okay, open this one!"  Well, she's my baby, so it's okay.  She's getting a kitty Chia pet for Christmas.  I always wanted to buy a Chia pet as a joke for someone, but now they make one that grows cat grass.  I'd like to wrap it for her, but I'm afraid a gift unwrapping cat might not be a good idea.  At least I feel like the pressure's off, and I can go back to worrying about other things, like what day of my cycle I'm on, and what I have to do according to the day.  Tomorrow I get to go out of town for an unpleasant outpatient procedure, but I'm actually looking forward to it.  Anything that gets me a step closer to a baby is a good thing. 

More doctors for me

Well, I've added two new MDs to my already lengthy list.  I have two neuros now, one for sleep.  He's really nice, and he knows Dr. K by reputation, and doesn't seem at all perturbed or amazed that I travel all the way to Dallas to see a doctor, and he's not once even hinted that I should use one of his partners for my migraines.  After hearing all my sleep history, he was very concerned that I had REM Behavior Disorder, so he scheduled me for a sleep study.  True to form, I stayed in the bed and kept my mouth shut during the sleep study.  No walking, talking, screaming, hitting or temp-taking in my sleep (now that I temp every morning as I'm trying to conceive, I do that in my sleep, too).  Dr. G was untroubled and just assured me that he doesn't have to see to believe.  At least we know I don't have RBD, but rather have a less-serious parasomnia, which he can treat.  It was an interesting, uncomfortable night, but the time had come to seek a diagnosis.  A 40-lead EEG, O2 sensors in various forms, and muscle-movement sensors do not make for a good night's sleep.  Add to that the fact that I knew they were filming me, and it took me over an hour to go to sleep--with my usual sleep meds, even!  With my so-Anglo-I-glow skin, I'm still bearing the marks left by the tape and paste.  I've not heard back from the study, yet, but I am still glad I did it.

My second doctor addition is a necessary but sad situation.  I've been trying to conceive for around 11 months now.  I could have gone to my OB/Gyn, but I have a sinking feeling that my uterus will act like my head, and decide it must only be cared for by the top in the field.  And as my 34 birthday is swift approaching, I saw no need in screwing around with the basic doc, and I am just heading straight to one of the large fertility practices in the state.  To my immense relief, Tim readily agreed to take the day off and go with me.  I think he knows it would be unwise to bitch about the time off, considering how quick I am to cry when the subject comes up.  Funny, back in nursing school I always thought my main interactions with many doctors would occur on the clock.