(Ok, since I seem to have scared away all of my readers, here's a disclaimer: not all of my thoughts these days involve bodily fluids, really. Most of them. Just not all of them.)

I made it through Christmas surprisingly ok. Even though this was supposed to be the year that my life changed completely, I'm doing ok.

My life *has* changed, of course. I'm a different person this Christmas than I was last year. I know that I'll never be able to go back to the person I was in 2004, but the person I'll be in 2006 will have a better perspective on all that this life holds. G also has a different perspective, too; the other day I overheard him talking about my surgery on the phone to a friend of his and he said "hopefully we'll be able to start trying again soon." I never thought I'd ever hear him say this at all a few years ago, and so for him to say it when he didn't know I was even around is wonderful.

In a few short days we will be bidding a fond farewell to this year, and welcoming in the next. I've read about a custom I plan to adopt this year, that of burning a bayberry candle from New Year's Eve into New Year's Day to bring good fortune to the next year.

I can't wait.

Decorations of red...

It just so happens that today is day 28 of my cycle. And guess what?? I have a holiday guest.

Should I be *getting* a period while taking estrogen, anyway? And does this mean that I will bleed for a week now, and then again when I stop taking the provera in three weeks?

Any insight from those with experience (*cough*Lorem) would be appreciated.

ETA: Called the RE's office and apparently this is totally normal... and not having one would have been normal, too. In other words, after surgery there is really no standard; I may spot when I finish the provera, may have a full period, or may do none of the above.

Random thoughts from a bad blogger

Sorry for the lack of posts... here's a random thought post to make up for my laziness!
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So I've been recuperating, not feeling all that great but getting by, and work has been exhausting-- there is truly no such thing as minor surgery in my book. Plus today I discovered that my navel incision had some... drainage. Smelly drainage. Yuck. Called the doctor and they gave me cleaning instructions as well as signs to watch out for in case of infection. Grrrrrre-at.
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Why is it that towns have all whole-heartedly adopted the "family-friendly NYE celebration??" Those of us without kids who do not want to be reminded of the fact that we have kids yet certainly do not want to spend a night walking around in the cold watching families with kids making crafts and having fun, and with no alcohol to cushion the blow, to boot.

(Ok, nah, I'm not really that cranky, but wishing that I could afford the dough to go rent a room in Niagara Falls *and* buy a bottle of Dom... not thinking that's happening this year. We'll probably stay home. Bah.)
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I've become a Lost-aholic. Really; I spend way too much of my time these days reading fan forums, coming up with theories and trying to figure out mysterious clues in this "webmaze" that may have been created by the show's producers (or may be fake, that's part of the mystery). I realized I have truly become obsessive today, when, talking with one of my fellow co-workers who got me started watching the show, I told her the name, hair color and occupation of one of the supporting characters. She didn't know who I was talking about.
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I'm done with almost all of my "holiday" things aside from some baking I'd like to finish. My mom and I tried to have a mini-baking session on Saturday, with my dad assisting in stretching to reach in high cupboards for me and mom taking on most of the rolling pin duties. But in the end we still only got three kinds actually baked (two more doughs mixed in the fridge, though) and the sugar cookies and gingerbread have no icing. But hey, I made real rum balls, too; they're my favorite anyway.

Hope everyone's doing well in the blogisphere; I promise to check in on everyone soon.

blah

Didn't feel quite so good today; I'm apparently in "two steps forward, one step back" mode. More pain, more tiredness. A slight temperature, although nothing the discharge instructions indicated as a real problem. Overall, just felt like sitting around, and am really glad that I have two more days till I have to go back to work.

rest and relaxation...

I didn't end up posting after all yesterday, as it was my most painful day. I think the carbon dioxide was to blame for that, as it was a more all-over achiness that corresponded with some bizarre bloating in my midsection. I'm doing much better today. I'm a little more mobile which tires me out some, but overall am doing much better sitting up and moving around. There's been hardly any vaginal bleeding, too, which is good, I suppose -- means that they cauterized me perhaps?? or that I'm healing quickly.

My incisions have bled a little, and there is some light discoloration under my navel -- possibly bruising, I think -- so I have a call in to the office to ask about those things. My throat is still sore, too, and it's almost like I have a cold in my throat -- I plan to have G get me some guafenasin so that I can get all the blech out of there. Yuck.

But aside from these minor things, I'm feeling pretty well. I'm taking my pain medication less frequently now, and am getting around better today than the first two days. Plus, I get to shower tonight! -- they used the "glue" on my incisions rather than stitches, so I wasn't allowed to get it wet at all for 48 hours. (My discharge instructions actually said "no swimming"... yeah, I was planning on doing some laps, darnit!) G helped to wash my hair yesterday afternoon, though, which felt WONDERFUL. He's being quite the excellent caregiver.

So, back to the easy chair I go, there are movies to watch and magazines to read. Rough life, I know.

Thanks for all the positive thoughts!

A-ok!

Just a quick post to say the surgery went well and I am feeling ok. They were able to resect the septum and aside from some minor incision tenderness and a sore throat, I have no pain right now. (Percocet is wonderful!)

The doctor did tell G that he removed some polyps, though -- I'm not sure where or what those were, so I will have to wait to ask the doctor about that. They're being biopsied so hopefully everything is fine there.

I'll post more tomorrow... thanks so much for all the good wishes and prayers!

Nervous Nelly

Ok, so I have to admit, I'm a little nervous about the surgery.

G and I were talking about it today and since he's been through a number of surgeries (both inpatient and outpatient) he had a lot of advice for me. But it still made me think "what am I getting myself into here??"

I know it's the best thing, and am sure I want to do it. However, I've never had any kind of surgery except wisdom teeth extraction, and so my mind is more than just a little scared.

I know this is no big deal, but part of me thinks "every surgery is a big deal". I'm more positive than I've been in months, but this is still a little intimidating.

Am I being a wimp here?? I hope not.

Santa Claus is coming... for a perm

In celebration of the inch of snow that's fallen here in the past hour, here's a holiday story about an interesting career: Santa's stylist!


Yes, Virginia, Santa really does have a beard that's as white as the snow; it just may need a touchup every now and again. That's where the Hair Appeal salon comes in. Santa(s) [shhh] drive, fly or are delivered by a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer to Roswell, GA year after year to get their 'do's re-done.

I actually heard about this on public radio but wanted to look up the story in print to find a picture; the radio story also mentioned that there is actually a group for people with real beards who play Santa -- and it's got a COOL name, the Amalgamated Order of Real Bearded Santas. That is so cool, it makes me want to be a jolly old elf just so I can be a part of it. (Ok, not really, but it's still cool.)

On a scale of one to ten...

Recently, Catherine posted the "Rate Your Life Quiz" and I just decided to go take it. My score was average (5.8); I scored the best on finance even though I can take NO credit for that (it's G all the way, there) and worst on mind -- hmm, could anxiety, stress and depression contribute, perhaps? But I digress.

There was one question that caused me to hesitate before answering:

"Do you believe everything happens for a reason?"

I answered no, but I'm not even sure of my own answer.

If there is a reason for everything, then there is a reason why I had to have miscarriages. Ok, check; that one works, because there *is* a reason; uterine anomaly. However, that also implies that there is a reason that I had the septate uterus in the first place. Anyone who has one, in fact, was intended to have it from the time that egg met sperm. And I just can't get my mind around that. I can't get my mind around the notion that there is a reason that my friends (blogger and otherwise) had to experience stillbirth, or infertility, the loss of both parents early... you get the idea -- any devastating thing.

But sometimes, when I reflect on who I've become since the miscarriages, I can say that yes, going through this has changed me, and yes, in some ways even for the better. Not to diminish my losses in any way, but I've found strength I didn't know I had. Was that the reason this all had to happen? While I'm appreciative of opportunities to change and grow in general, I'd like to think there would have been a better lesson to learn, and in no way would I consider what we've been through an "opportunity." (That's akin to calling it a "blessing in disguise"... not going there.)

There's a part of me, though, that still tries to find meaning in "fate", including the fact that if certain things hadn't happened I wouldn't have been in X place at Y time to find out about Z. This has happened to me on more than one occasion; for a while in the 90's I started believing that there really was a grand plan for me, and that "God never closes a door without opening a window." But it's harder to put two and two together and get four with that argument these days. (Yes, the question about faith threw me a little, also.)

So today, as I remember that precisely one year ago I got my first double pink lines, I think about what a strange twist of fate would have had to occur to bring me here -- and then I think that instead, I'd like to chalk this one up to a random event. It's easier that way.

I really wanna know...

Even though I know it's not likely to mean anything significant, it's hard NOT to get a little excited when you see this in your stats:

United Kingdom, 0 returning visits
4th December 2005
08:01:15 PM
boywhoheardmusic.blogspot.com

It's probably just a "next blog" kind of thing. Or someone --who are you? -- who has me bookmarked (were you in the UK this weekend, Lorem?) and started on Pete's page. That's all.

Nice to dream of a brush with fame, though.

Surgery update

Good news! The RE doing the surgery (I'll call him Dr. Thorough) was just that -- thorough, descriptive and helfpul. He had already planned on doing the lap/hyst, so there was no need to convince him of it. Apparently, there is still some question about whether or not my uterus is septate, subseptate or bicornuate, so the lap is the best way to go. This was the only thing that seemed to make G worried; he asked the doc whether an MRI would have been more definitive and when the answer was no, still seemed skeptical. I think just the notion of his wife having surgery when there is a possibility that it might not help (i.e., if I was bicornuate) bothers him a little. I feel ok with it, oddly, as lap/hyst is the gold standard from everything I've read, and is probably the only way to do "due diligence" in getting this fixed, if it's correctable.

Surgery is 12/13, at 2 pm (unless they move me up, of course). Clear liquids six hours before, cytotec pill you-know-where the night before (I think, anyway; prescription's in the car) and I get to do a certain type of "prep", if you get my drift. (Oh joy.)

Dr. Wonderful will decide during surgery whether I'll need a balloon catheter (apparently this is based on how much of a septum they haev to remove) and whether I'll need to be on estrogen will depend on whether I have the catheter. I'll then have a sonohystogram sometime post-op (probably a month or so) to make sure we're "right as rain."

All in all, I'm pleased with the way this went, and am now ready to officially kick 2005 all the way into the next decade.

Like a kid at Christmas

Tomorrow morning I find out all the details about my surgery, and I'm very excited that it's almost finally here! We worked diligently to get things done beforehand (cleaning, decorating, and holiday shopping) and now can just relax and wait for the 13th to arrive. It's nice to be feeling optimistic again.

I will update as soon as I can tomorrow...

Oh, Tom, we hardly knew ye...

Inspired partially by Lorem's photoshopping adventures, and partially because I'm amazed that no one has done this yet, I hereby present the ultimate in paparazzi stalking -- taken by none other than the proud papa himself! After all, gotta get that wee one used to all the publicity...

Statue of a lady with a clock, where her stomach ought to beeeeeee....

G is being really vague and evasive about what he wants for Christmas this year.

Now normally, we have this little ritual whereby we don't actually TELL each other what we want for Christmas, but rather hint around at it in the hopes that the other will pick up on our hints. Some years this works rather well; other years we come out and ask each other outright "so I'm not getting any hints from you this year -- fess up!"

This year, however, he keeps pulling the "I don't need anything" card.

Now mind you, it's *also* my job to find out for my mother what G wants. When I tell him "my mother wants to know what you want, too" he tells me "tell her to save her money" or "tell her to get me clothes" (she ALWAYS gets him clothes, plus other things) or "tell her to re-gift that blah blah blah that your dad isn't using." This is because he has a long-standing...shall we say, "discussion," with his dad about the fact that every year he gives us each a large money gift, after having been told by G and his brothers to "spend the money on themselves." Never works of course.

So, anyway, last night I resorted to my old standby, which is to read items aloud to him from the Radio Shack advertisement to see if anything sparks an interest. So I'm reading through the radios and say "hey, maybe I could replace your old transistor radio that you use every year at Christmas..." Hmm, no -- that's a tradition (using that *particular* radio) so that won't work. (Although it did inspire the Allan Sherman reference in my title -- heard that song in college and it cracked me up!)

Finally, after hearing me read about all sorts of electronic devices, he finally said "IKNOW! This is something I really want."

And, being the memory-challenged person that I am, I promptly forgot it.

Which is why I wrote this blog entry this morning; to hopefully jog my memory about what it is he wanted. Guess what -- it worked!! By the end of the post it had popped back into my head (better write it down -- a CD/radio boom box for the garage). I guess thinking about something else other than "oh crap, what WAS that he said???" is a better way of remembering things, anyway.

Hope none of your gifts this year involve an automatic vegetable slicer that works when you see it on television, but not when you get it home.