Sunday, November 21, 2010

My cat

He's not the smartest thing in the world.

He's adorable, and cuddly.. but he thinks he's a dog. He comes when called, he begs.. Today, he even farted.. then looked around as if to accuse me.. and then he actually sniffed the air and fired a dirty look my way before being so offended by the smell that he left the room.

He plays fetch with hair ties.. he chases them, and then returns them so I can toss them again.. all in all, I think he's confused about what species he really is.

He has an incredible personality, and lots of it, but stick a mouse in front of him and he runs into walls, puffs up his tail and acts as though he's about to die. He's not the greatest mouser.

It may seem strange to some that my cat is such a big part of my life, but unlike some cats that just sleep all day and have the occasional snooze on their owners lap, he is *always* with me. When I get home he greets me at the door and from that point on he is either following me to my next destination, or he's laying on/beside me. It's hard not to have him be such a big part of my life when he throws himself into whatever I'm doing. When I do laundry, he sits on the stairs and watches me.. when I fold laundry, he picks the darkest, most cat-hairable pile and stretches out on it. No matter what I'm doing, he is most likely *in* it. None of this really bothers me.. I find it cute.

I realized that I don't very often mention him.. which is odd. because he does tons of stuff that makes it into daily conversation. Right now, he is laying across my arms and impeding my typing.. but because he's snoring.. ever so slightly.. it's too cute to move him. I can't ever see my life without a cat.. I've never been without one extraordinary kitty in my life :)

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

No baby *sad*

So we're out of the running for another month.

I'm not patient at all. When I decide to do something it's often a let's-do-this-now-because-if-I-have-to-wait-I-won't-bother kind of things. When the hubby and I started trying seven months ago, we said we weren't really"trying" we were just gonna go with the flow and see what happens. That of course was before I didn't get pregnant in month one. Little by little each month I get my hopes up and then they fall and shatter into a million jagged pieces. I'm now getting depressed about it. I'm convinced I'm doing something wrong, or maybe the universe just doesn't think I deserve a baby and it will never happen.

We're not against adopting as a last resort if we really can't have a biological child. I know from experience that I can have a very strong bond with a child and I know that if we adopted we would enter into it knowing that the baby is *our* baby, through and through. But I want my own. I feel like I'm a horrible person even saying it, but it's true. I want the whole experience, being pregnant, having nine months to bond before I even get to meet the little person.

I just wish there was some way to just know! Like, if I could simply order a pregnancy... Win online tracking capability and all so I know exactly when to expect it.

It's almost the majority of women that I work with that are pregnant... And that's not helping in the slightest. Going in every day and hearing about morning sickness and all the over symptoms and just wishing I could be the one getting no sleep and throwing up all night. Bah.

Friday, November 5, 2010

My birthday!

tomorrow is my birthday. I'll be 27. hurrah!

Hopefully this will be my last birthday without kids. growing up I had always thought I'd be married with a couple of kids by now. Got the marriage.. workin on the kids.

My plan for today (I'm taking it off to give myself a long weekend for my birthday) and tomorrow is to relax. that's about it. I just want to not *have* to do anything. This doesn't happen often, and I'm really not good at it, so today has already turned out to be pretty productive.. (Damnit!) I've gotten the laundry sorted and ready to go. I've swept and mopped every floor in the house, and vacuumed the bedrooms. I scrubbed the microwave and did all the dishes..

Still moving stuff little by little until we're all set up in the new place. Unfortunately, we've moved all the stuff we need to function and so the rest is just a pain in the ass.

tomorrow, I get to go on a date with my husband (for the first time since my last birthday) and we're doing pretty much the exact same thing.. seeing the sequel to the movie we saw on my last birthday and going to a slightly cheaper restaurant because there's no way we'll get a free meal two years in a row

now, to lay down with the cat and pretend there's nothing else for me to do.. let's see how long that lasts.

so I was digging through my Itouch....

and I found the story that I wrote about my adenotonsillectomy!

For your reading pleasure:

"My adenotonsillectomy nightmare- a cautionary tale

A decade of infections, difficulty breathing, snoring like a jackhammer, and breath barely controlled by constant brushing and gum chewing fueled my mission to have those horrible lumps of useless lymph tissue removed. This is my (probably far too) detailed account of my experience.

It was a chilly February morning at 530 am when my lovely mother brought me to the hospital to begin my journey. We arrived and sat, numbered paper slip in hand to register at admitting, not much time passed until I got to register and was instructed to go upstairs to another waiting room, a nurse would call me to prepare me for surgery. We sat, bored and anxious in the sixth floor waiting room with about
ten other patients and their families. After about an hour, a nurse called my name and led me to a small room where she handed me a gown and told me to strip and put all of my belongings in a clear blue plastic bag. All I noticed about the room was the large window with a great view into the windows of other hospital rooms that she was instructing me to strip in front of. Oh well, I changed as she asked me
questions from the other side of the curtain. Once I'd changed she came back and continued asking questions. At one point she started rambling about Haiti and people stealing children, I stopped listening after a while until she told me to go back to the waiting room ( yep, naked except for a gown and lil foot covers) and wait for another attendant to come and get me for surgery. My mother and I continued waiting
until finally about another hour later an attendant began calling names and checking wrist bands, once we were all accounted for; we were led (more like herded) down a cold windy hallway to another waiting room (yes three waiting rooms so far) to wait for surgery. I was beginning to think that they'd lost the operating room and were stalling.

After not too long, a nurse came to get me, she stuck a hair cover on me and led me down another cold hallway to the operating room. I was instructed to lay down on the table and she got me a warm blanket. It was freezing in there! My surgeon came in and asked how I was and then some guy started trying to find a vein (I can point out a few really good ones, and I'm sitting in the dark) he poked me a few times before the anaesthesiologist took over and did it in one try, she said "goodnight" and then mmm sleep.

I woke up in recovery. There was no pain, just a groggy sort of feeling, like waking up from a very deep sleep suddenly and feeling very heavy in your bed. They gave me a few shots of morphine and gave me ice chips.

After about an hour when I was fully awake, a nice man named Joe came and wheeled me out to my mother ( who was by this point waiting in a FOURTH waiting room) to join us on the way to a room where I would stay til I had a chance to take some pain meds and get all my stuff in order to be discharged. Other than being nauseous every time I moved, it wasn't too bad. I wasn't in too much pain, and felt like I would be all ready to go back to work. I was wrong, so very wrong.

My mother wheeled me down to the car where I struggled to get in without vomiting And we went home. Didn't even make it into the house before I vomited in the garden twice. my husband got me upstairs and situated on the couch and he went to get my pain meds.

Since I got home I have been taking the maximum dose of my pain meds and since day two that hasn't seemed like enough. If I do anything (literally, anything) I feel as though I've run a marathon and need to rest. Every time I swallow ( even just saliva) I get a shooting pain through my throat and into my brain. When I eat, my eyes water and my whole body jerks from the pain of swallowing. I've lost weight and I feel malnourished. I find that if I allow he pain meds to wear off, I'm in so much pain that I can barely swallow the meds.

On day four I was about to run out of meds and was terrified. I was absolutely sure that if I couldn't get a refill of the prescription that I was going to die that night. The pain in my ears had started up by then.

To sum it all up (so far anyway) I have suffered from severe infections my whole life, and this was by far the worst pain I have ever experienced.

As it stands right now (day seven) I'm not quite sure it was worth it. Bit then again I may just be going insane because I haven't slept or eaten in seven days and for most of it I've been drugged with some pretty heavy narcotics.

It is 2 in The morning and my ears hurt so badly I could scream, but won't because that would surely make it worse

Update:
Today is day eight, 2 in the morning again. I woke up to excruciating pain in my ears and throat. When will this end? I'm so exhausted, I can't sleep more than a few hours at a time. I think that the absolute worst part of my recovery is the discouraging mornings. "


I started writing on paper at that point because I remember the headaches and ear pain were pretty unbearable most of the time. day 19 was when I finally felt like a functioning person. went back to work on day 21 and had to leave early and take an extra day because i was so dizzy and lightheaded.

in retrospect I'm glad I had it done, I haven't been *really* sick since the surgery, and I can breathe! it's amazing how much more energy you have when you can actually breathe :o)