Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Can You Do Me a Favor?


Have yourself a great day.

But for reals, kids.

I just wanted to leave the words that have gotten me through a tough year right here where you could get them if you needed them.

You have survived 100% of what life has thrown at you thus far. 

You are a survivor whether you realize it or not.

Keep doing that.


As always, it's hip to be square, kids.

Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Kidneys and Viruses and Concussions, OH MY!


It's just been a day.

Such a day.

A lot of a day.

It started with a missed phone call because I assumed it was my alarm. And then two more phone calls all from my dad.

I naturally assumed the worst and called back quickly. He didn't answer, so I called my mom. When she picked up, all she could say was, "I'mmmmm siiiiicccckkkk."

As terrible as it sounds, a sigh of relief followed. Mom being sick is usually manageable. Doc being sick can be catastrophic.

So, my in-office-get-shit-done day quickly turned in to a go-take-care-of-mom day. You would think I would be off the hook for this because my father is a doctor, but no dice. He still isn't 100% after his surgery, so he shouldn't be physically moving anyone around or taking care of them.

So, you know, off I went.

Mom had severe vertigo, which she had never had before, and was unable to stand or sit up. She was uncomfortable and scared. We didn't know if it was viral, part of her kidney disease, or the aftermath of a really good knock on the head that she took a few days ago. Either way, FUCK.

Her general practitioner phoned her in some medicine and we waited to see if it would work. It didn't. I force fed her Pedialyte and she did perk up some, but not enough for her doctor's liking. He wanted her to go for a stat CT, and he was not fucking around. We piled her in to the car and took her to the ER where we sat for a very, very long time. Luckily, we are friends with most of the ER docs, and let them know in advance what was going on. They got her in quickly, but the process still took forever.

Luckily, it seems like it was just an episode of vertigo. There was nothing on the CT to be concerned about, and her blood work came back normal. The good news was that her kidneys were actually better then than they have been in recent months. They sent her home with the diagnosis of "dizziness". GEE, THANKS, FUCK STICKS. If that's why they get paid for, someone put me on the payroll. ME CAN BE A DOCTOR 2.

It looks like she'll be fine. Fingers crossed. I'll keep you posted, anyway.

As always, it's hip to be square, kids.

Monday, April 21, 2014

Autoerotic AsphyWHAAAA????


As my readers (all 2 of you) know, my dad and I are very close and talk about really weird things. I assumed that I knew basically everything about him at this point in my life. There isn't much that is off limits. I know that he almost shot a guard when he was in Vietnam, so he stopped carrying his sidearm because he figured he was more dangerous to people he knew with it. I know that he dated a woman for 5 years when he was young, and she is still angry at him 50 years later for not marrying her. I know that his actual goal in life was to be a physicist and he had to give up on it when he couldn't pass Optics in 1957. I know that his family has a lot of bizarre and probably crazy people in it, and that he is one of them. I know that when he couldn't handle Optics, he decided to "settle" for being a doctor and then a psychiatrist. 

I did not know the following. 

We were talking about random things at lunch today, and somehow Danny Trejo came up. I said that I always get him confused with "Kung Foo Fighting" because I can never remember that actor's name. My brother pointed out that I was talking about David Carradine, and that reminded me that David Carradine died during autoerotic asphyxiation. 

When I said that, I imagined my 76-year-old father would say something along the lines of, "NOOOOO SHIT!" or "Ew. That's not a fun way to die." 

Instead, he said, "Really? People don't often die that way." 

I paused. 

"Uh. How do you know?" I asked while entirely terrified of the answer.

"Oh," he said. "I presented a paper at a national forensic sciences conference about a guy who died while attempting autoerotic strangulation. He was watching a video while he did it, so I got ahold of the video and edited it down to be presented with the paper," he said matter-of-factly. "The paper was published in some national journals, and we did a whole presentation on it during the sexual perversions part of the conference."

…WHAT THE FUCK?!

I started laughing, but I think I wanted to cry. I mean, I know I wanted to cry. In fact, I may have been crying. 

"So let me get this straight," I said to him knowing that I would regret it. "You were, at one point, an expert on autoerotic asphyxiation?"

AND MY 76 YEAR OLD FATHER SAID:

"Well, I guess I would still be considered one." 

He paused. 

"I mean, I never tried it." 

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! LIKE HOW IS THIS A THING?

My father, my best friend, the person who I am most like in the whole entire fucking world is an expert on WHAT?!

I JUST CANNOT EVEN. 

You learn something new every day. AND THEN YOU STAB OUT YOUR MINDS EYE UNTIL YOU CAN'T EVEN THINK ANYMORE EVER.

What number do I dial to get a lobotomy?


It's hip to be square, kids… I think.

Friday, April 18, 2014

Someone Tell Him


Can someone tell my husband that I'm not crazy?

Or, better yet, tell him that I am, and that he just has to deal?

We had a really nice lunch. We were talking about options and next steps and how we handle things from here on out. We were being productive.

Then he says, "Well, how are you going to react if my sister gets pregnant before we do?"

And it just shook the foundation of everything that I have been working so hard on. It rattled me to my core and now I just can't keep it together.

How am I going to react?

How am I going to fucking react?

I'm going to be furious. Not at her, but at the universe. I'm going to be angry in that always-a-bridesmaid-never-a-bride-and-fuck-you-for-not-dealing-with-infertility way. I'm going to want to smash things and scream at the Universe that I get to live through daily torture and she gets to get married and get knocked up right away. I'm going to hate the world more than I do now.

I'm going to hate the world more than I do now.

And that's awful. And I know it's awful and I feel like the worst person for even having thoughts about being mistreated or not having enough in life. I have everything I could want. 

Except, you know, the one thing that I actually want. 

She's older than I am. Substantially. She has had a rocky, on-and-off relationship with her not-quite-fiancé who will probably soon be her fiancé. She deserves to be happy just as much as everyone else does.

And knowing all of that, and knowing that life isn't fair, and knowing that things are hard and that I'm not special, I am still a sobbing mess because it just never occurred to me that that would happen. And now it almost seems like a certainty.

And I just can't.

Husband doesn't get it and keeps reminding me to find the positive and be thankful for what we have because he's going through it to and he's not getting enough support in it. And he's completely and totally right. I'm being totally selfish and self-serving and I can't hate everyone who gets good news while we continue to wait.

I mean, I shouldn't.

It's not stopping me though.

It's just where I am right now. And nothing seems to be getting me through it any faster. I'm sorry for that, and I'm sorry that it's not who you want me to be, but it's where I am right now. If I could be anywhere else, mentally or physically, I would be. 

But this is where I am right now.

So, I guess I'll see you there.

As always, it's hip to be square, kids.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

A Little Bit Liberating


This is the week that I would normally obsessively be peeing on sticks and praying to whoever would listen for two freaking lines.

Two.

Not one.

Two.

And squinting hoping that the smaller my eyes get, the more that white space will start to have some kind of shadow on it that could be mistaken for a second time.

And giving myself a headache by squinting.

But I'm not because we didn't try to do anything this month. The bad news came and went and we decided that we can't add extra variable and stress to it. For a bit, we just have to let it be what it is. For a little while, we can't do anything other than just let it exist.

So we existed and took the month off.

And while I thought I would feel like a failure, I really just feel fine. I'm not back to expecting the normal rather than begging for miracles. The normal is okay because it isn't a failure of any kind. You miss 100 percent of the shots that you don't take, right? So we missed this one. That's cool. Same number of points on the scoreboard as when we started.

Alright.

It's the typically dreaded time of the cycle and I'm not dreading it. I'm not dreading anything.

I didn't fail because we didn't try.

And that's a way better feeling than trying to explain what it's like to have your own vital organs working against everything you want.

So, yeah.

This is a good thing.

As always, it's hip to be square, kids.

Saturday, April 12, 2014

New Normal


I don't spend that much time sad or angry anymore.

It has gotten a lot better in the last few weeks. I think I'm just too busy to spend any time getting upset over things that I'm not in control of, and that is a blessing beyond my comprehension. It's just time to get used to these new words and new things and new idea of the future. I can't be controlled by it anymore.

The only time I really struggle exists entirely in my mind because it hasn't happened yet and very well might never happen.

I just have this image of running in to a friend or loved one and getting asked that question that I dread every moment of my life. It's in my nature to be honest, but I have kept this so private and hidden. As far as my friends and family no, I have no interest in children any time soon. I was hoping it would just be a happy surprise for them.

I'm sure I'll go back to the answer that I have been giving for three years now. I'll tell them that puppies are way easier than kids because you can put puppies in boxes when you leave the house and no one gets angry at you. I never actually answer the question. I don't have it. It's none of their business.

I just know that eventually someone is going to ask at the wrong or unplanned moment and I won't be able to continue my normal assholistic, self-serving, kids-are-lame attitude for a fleeting moment. I don't want to answer questions. I don't want sympathetic glances. I don't want people to grab my hand or hug me.

So that moment? The thought of that moment that might never happen? That still brings the tears and the anxiety because I just don't want it. I can live my normal life now without all of the ups and downs. I just can't imagine surviving that moment even one more time.

And it will happen. And I will survive it. And I'll die a little more inside every time I think about how the goings-on of my ovaries are none of your business, compassionate acquaintance or even good friend.

But to answer the question you didn't ask, Internet, that's what I'm still struggling with at this moment.

It's hip to be square, kids.

Monday, April 7, 2014

Fuck you, Snooki.


If you want to know what it's like to navigate the world of infertility in the weakest, most hateful moments, this is it right here:

*Scrolling Facebook*

*Click on Trending Topics*

Oh, look! Snooki's pregnant again!

A woman who has publicly done more intentional damage to her body by regularly drinking herself into a stupor and LITERALLY making bad decisions for a living has a working set of reproductive organs that give her babies when she wants. Meanwhile, I stay out of trouble for my whole life, do the best I can to talk care of myself and work hard to not make a jackass out of myself, and I get to sit here without any hope.

I'm an awful person.

If you want to know what it's like to be unintentionally attacked by the whole world at the same time, it's right here. It's happy people everywhere getting what you want and making sure the whole world knows it. You can't get away from it. You can't hide from it. To avoid reminders of it, you can't go to the grocery store, leave the house, turn on the television, read news sites, NOTHING.

Everything feels like a purposeful reminder of how much it hurts.

This is all so self-centered and ridiculous. I have so many things to be thankful for right now.

It just feels like none of them matter.

And they do.

But they don't.

But they do.

But they don't.


As always, it's hip to be square, kids.

Friday, April 4, 2014

Codes and Signs


Days have just been rough. There is so much going on, and it seems like any shit that can get thrown at me, does. It's not huge stuff. Everyone is healthy and doing well (knock wood). But a ton of tiny little things still weighs 2,000 pounds. 

My husband has a code that he uses for most things. Pins, some passwords, reminders. Different variations of that code show up pretty much everywhere. It's like his thing.

We did the walk through on Mom and Dad's new house today. The fence installer met us there and gave us a quote on the fence that my parents need for their dogs. It was double what we wanted to pay. Meanwhile, I got the taxes back from the accountant which are 3 times what they were last year. 

I feel like I can't make money fast enough. There is no break in this barrage of bullshit.

Anyway, I put my foot down and said that they were not spending that much on a fence. I told them to change the plans and ONLY fence in the back yard and not worry about the small sides of the house. I'm done getting taken for all that I've got because I don't have anything left.

They redrew the plan and the guy recalculated everything. He was super nice and was doing everything he could to organize it as inexpensively as possible. I let them work and walked outside to cool off and clear my head. I'm pretty sure it was a useless pursuit at that point, but I was bordering on being a total mess.

I walked back in to the house as the guy finishes crunching his numbers. He looks up and says, "Wow. This is way better."

The cost was less than half of the original price. 

And the exact number?

My husband's code. 

For whatever reason, that calmed me down immensely.

If we can keep trending in that direction, that would be swell.



As always, it's hip to be square, kids.

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