Sunday, December 31, 2006

Well this explains it

I've been feeling tired and sick and wondering if I'm depressed. My cynicism has been overwhelming. And now the answer has come to me. My thyroid is screwed again. Every symptom is back.

My head hurts so much I can't stand it. I'm going to bed with some ibuprofen. Disregard my resolutions. I'm rewriting them when I feel better.

Saturday, December 30, 2006

Resolutions 2007

I have two kinds of resolutions this year, blog related and non-blog-related.

Edited to Add: I've changed some of this, trying to be more positive. Bold is new, anything in (these) should be deleted, K?

Blog Resolutions:

1. Get a new blog design & avatar, any opinions here? Anyone?
2. Put my archives back up.
3. Update my blogroll.
4. Fix Technorati account, (any help here is appreciated, the thing is SCREWED)
5. Deal with Bloglines account, also screwed, and add stuff to sidebar I keep meaning to like link to International Infertility Film Festival & Infertility Ribbon Campaign.

Actual Life Related Resolutions

1. Try to get pregnant, try to accept it may not work.
2. Try to Have live baby after becoming pregnant.
2. Try to become effective paid political consultant here in Canada. (insert muffled laughter, because most effin' clients don't want to pay)
3. Try to keep being a (The Perfect) Good Mother.
4. Organize house and paperwork, bills, etc. properly.
5. Ask (Force) multiple personal doctors to work together so that I can be healthy, happy, etc.

And lastly, try not to ask to much of myself. AKA, learn to love the me that already exists right here and now.

Friday, December 29, 2006

The Six Weird Things Meme

Clare tagged me so to start, here are THE RULES: Each player of this game starts with the weird things about them. People who get tagged need to write on their blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says you have tagged them in their comments and tell them to read your blog.

So these are Six Weird Things about Me:

1. Wet bread freaks me out. Any dampness at all near bread that I am eating, (excluding melted butter of course) gives me the willies.

2. I am the world's leading authority on "What to do when Federal Express delivers a dead body/fetus to your front door." Nope, did not want that title on my resume. But, it's a skill set I have acquired. (All joking aside, if any bereaved parents google this after it happens to them, please email me; I will try to help you & I'm so sorry you had to find me this way.)

3. I love my GoLite lightbox. It's made by Apollo, and I use it to keep my hormones, especially melatonin & dopamine, regulated. Most people use it for SAD, after their Doctor prescribes it, but being the ultimate new-agey weirdo, I have decided it can do many other things. Like make my coffee, and make me skinny. The newest version, I am convinced, will do my taxes and give me orgasms as well.

4. I am a Costco freak. I buy everything there. I wish I could live there.

5. I love ballroom dancing, and I have romantic fantasies where I get to dance all night in the arms of Mr. Cotta, the husband.

6. If I see a child alone or in trouble in a store or mall, I follow them around cellphone in hand or just watch them until I see a parent has taken care of them. If it's a male parent I follow them around a little longer, just to make sure he really knows what he's doing, and really isn't some creep who has just picked up the kid and walked away from the real parents.

Yes that last one is weird and paranoid, on the other hand, if we're both ever in the same Costco, your kids are totally safe with me watching over them.

So to finish this meme, I have to tag 6 people now. I am going to tag Nicole, Sky Maybe, Manuela, Lut C, Thalia, Kim and to make this really weird, a 20 year old political blogger I met yesterday named Glen, at Pierre Trudeau is my Homeboy. (Be nice to him. He wrote this awful post title, and when I objected, wrote the most fabulous apology on earth and fixed it. His mother would be proud of him, really. Think nice thoughts about him, K?) I should also tag some people at the Bread N'Roses forum. But I don't know their blogs yet, so hey just meme anyone who sees it, OK?

I started writing this at 2:30 pm BTW and am only now finishing it at 9:00 pm. This is because Mr. Cotta and I decided to get busy in the dining room, after clearing the table in a rather noisy yet innovative manner.

Yes, I actually stopped blogging long enough to have sex. With my husband. And I'm admitting it on the internet. *Snort*

Distract me please

After yesterday's mood hit, I realized I was getting some traffic from various places. Thank you all for taking my mind off my navel-gazing. I'm feeling a bit better.

Clare over at three minute palaver has tagged me for the 6 weird things meme, and that will be my next post. Y'know the one where I get to write leisurely and calmly while my living children play sweetly at my feet, and my husband massages my neck and serves me bonbons, telling my to take my time on the computer.

Umm, yeah.....not so much

In fact, they are all pissed off at me for even looking at the computer, so I may not be doing much blogging in the next week. Nevermind that the only thing they want me to do is referee their Nintendo DS fights, their Lego arguments, etc. etc. you get the idea. I really have to get them out of the house. Stir-crazy does not begin to describe it.

I will quickly say that I am very happy with todays' Globe & Mail editorial on the AHR (Assisted Human Reproduction Act). Their editorials are so freakin' awesome and bang on on this subject, it would not have been better if I had written them myself.

Today, I heart the Globe and Mail Editorial Board.

*Smoochies from the IF community, dahlings!*

Thursday, December 28, 2006

Not feeling so miraculous today

Today is CD1.

Yep, you heard it right. I just had a seventeen day cycle. A new record, even for me. Didn't even get to fail a very expensive drug store pregnancy test.

Plus, this is a two year anniversary of sorts for me. In September of 2004, I had a very late miscarriage at 16 weeks. That pregnancy was, I believed, my last chance at a live baby. And when the ultrasound revealed that my daughter had died, no heartbeat, no movement, I lost it.

I knew I had to find out what happened, and get a diagnosis, so I had them send off a chromosome sample to the lab, and had my daughter's remains and the placenta sent to the US placental pathologist I had hired. She did her report, I read the email version and we discussed the results over the phone. The nightmare report where my perfectly formed fetus with perfect organs, had a massively clotted half-dead placenta on the mother's side of the chorionic plate. It was my fault, my genetic clotting defect that suffocated her.

The written report, and her remains arrived two years ago today in the mail. Yes, her body was sent to my house instead of back to the hospital or to the funeral home. (And yes, at 16 weeks there is most definitely a body...) No one would help us, no one would come pick the remains up, eventually my husband had to drive the remains of his own daughter to a funeral home, and then arrange for her burial and the funeral.

December 28 is officially the shittiest day on the calendar in our house.

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Share some love please

*Updated below*

Clare over at Three Minute Palaver is having a very difficult Christmas. She finally got pregnant and everything was going very well, until a few days ago when she began to bleed. A threatened miscarriage is always terrible but during the holiday season it can be even more stressful. She'll be posting another update soon after her ultrasound, but please visit her and let her know we all care.
My heart goes out to you Clare. I'm so sorry you have to go through this stress.

ETA: Clare's latest post here shows that miracles really do happen. Maybe Christmas spirit is real after all?

Oh Clare, and I tried posting there but Blogger has a hiccup. Maybe they need a miracle too?

It's a Merry freakin' Christmas round here!

Have to quickly post, because I have much to clean up around here. Oh, pardon me, I mean tidy of my Christmas presents to myself was getting a cleaning lady again, and the blessed woman is coming tomorrow! Ages ago when my husband decided to start the new business, we had to cut back on everything, and since we couldn't cut back on the mortgage payments, (banks are funny that way) I had to cut everything else I could.

But life is better a bit now, and this Christmas has been very very nice. You'll never believe this, but prior to yesterday, we were the last family on earth that did not own a digital camera, not including the itty bitty crappy ones on our cellphones. But the awesome husband bought me a brand new Sony Cybershot 8.1 megapixel camera. And it has a video camera built in!!! Best part is that it is the kind that has automatic everything, so I don't have to worry about settings. I can fiddle with settings if I want, but really, why bother?

And no I never did find a Wii, but Santa did leave a gift card with enough money on it to buy one as soon as they are available. Not perfect, but the best I could do under the circumstances.

Off to throw away some wrapping paper!

Saturday, December 23, 2006

A New Year, and some New Ambitions

I've had a bit of a revelation here in Aurelia's world. I got a fabulous night's sleep last night, mostly due to starting back on Prometr!um. (I normally don't take it orally, but what the heck? I desperately needed the sleep. Crap was I out like a light.)

And what do I wake up to this morning? The Globe and Mail's front page has a story about the new board of the Assisted Human Reproduction Agency up here in Canada. (Please go read it, and feel free to leave comments, it's a free sign-in. Infertile people seem poorly represented there.) Apparently Stephen Harper thinks appointing a bunch of pro-life religious people to the Board is a good idea. There are few scientists, no medical experts, no REs and NOT ONE person who has gone through fertility treatment.

I will blog about this in detail later, but suffice it to say that I had pitched Michael Ignatieff, and Bob Rae, Gerard Kennedy and Stephane Dion on this exact thing. I warned them, and I was right. If this law isn't changed not only will infertile couples in Canada suffer greatly, but anyone who wants to find a cure for Alzheimer's, for MS, for ALS, and for any disease potentially cured by stem cells will suffer. And since Canada provides billions in stem cell research dollars that the current US government doesn't, we have become the one of the leading places on earth to do good well-funded research.

This is utter insanity, and as of this moment the religious right has finally cemented it's control over a women's reproductive organs. I blogged about this early on, and I let someone intimidate me into taking my posts about it down. Well, no more. Months and months ago when that person took some threats too far, I went to the Toronto Police Service. And after I explained what a blog was, and showed them my Statcounter reports, and the emails, etc. the lovely guys at 54 Division told me they would protect me, and take care of any problems. They monitor, and so do I. Not the most fun, but it keeps me and my family safe from harassment, while I practice free speech.

I like debate, hell I love debate, but as I've told a few people recently, there are legal limits on the internet, just as in real life. It isn't the Wild West of old.

So I've decided to jump back into the fray, and call email a whole bunch of politicians and reporters. We're going to do an awful lot of talking and strategizing. Personally, I can't wait to pitch the Conservative Caucus members who only have children because of IVF. Like the Minister of Finance, Jim Flaherty and his wife, who is an MPP here in Ontario. They have triplets. My sources say that it was very difficult to have those kids and I cannot imagine for the life of me that he would endorse this kind of legislation.

I'm back, everyone, I may not succeed right away, it may take a long time, and a lot of work, but I'm back....and determined to fix this mess.

Friday, December 22, 2006

Wii are hoping for a miracle

Yes, I need a Wii. I'm willing to pay bribes...big bucks people.

A Nintendo Wii gaming system for those of you with your heads stuck in eggnog for the last few months.

My 10 year old has been begging for a game system for ages, but they were all so stupidly violent I just said no. And then I learned a little more and discovered that the GameCube is great for little kids with lots of family rated games, the PlayStation is for slightly older kids, more like PG/AA rated. And the Xbox and Xbox 360 and it's games are too violent and destructive even for Al-Qaeda, possibly even for the NHL. (At least this is the rep among my boys friends and moms...)

But still, all of them involve sitting on your butt in a dark room in front of a computer screen manipulating a joystick. Sort of like blogging or sex, y'know. (snort)

But not the magical Wii, however. There are action, thrills, chills, and if you aren't careful a few real life collisions. So my kids both want it from Santa. And they told Santa that just TWO WEEKS AGO. Never mind that all of freakin' North America is sold out. I have combed every store I can find, surfed EBay, begged, and prayed to multiple religious icons.

No Dice.

So if anyone remotely close to Toronto can get me one, I'll, I'll, I'll do just about ANYTHING. I can't offer to carry your child due to my lousy barely working uterus and ovaries, and I can't give away the two living kids I've got, or this is all kind of pointless, right?

But I'm willing to negotiate just about anything else...REALLY!

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Heeereee eggy eggy eggy

Yes, I sincerely believe that an egg may have decided to show up in my abdomen. Since this cycle I'm not being monitored, and I ran out of OPKs before they blipped their line, I have no scientific proof.

But I have spinnbarkheit dammit!

Or at least I did yesterday. Unfortunately, the husband of the year had to work late and could not come home quick enough to take advantage of this state until late last night, so here's hoping we didn't miss it as it rolled around in the barnyard wreckage that is my abdomen. Just in case, we're playing another little game of farmer and chicken this morning.

I'll start prometrium intravaginally in a few days, baby aspirin, and taking large awful vitamins again. This cycle I won't be able to do subcutaneous micro-hcg shots (1000 IU/Day, or 3,000 IU every 3 days, depending on the cycle), so I can use one of those awful early stick tests if I want. I can start the hcg shots if I want later on (if I get a positive, yeah right,*rolls eyes*).

So 'scuse me now, I have to go ummm, catch something...hehe

Monday, December 18, 2006

Quite edified by the campaign result

Pizza Hut has taken the site down and may be rethinking their ethical standards, hehe. I updated my post below to reflect the changes. Wow, this is much better than bitching behind the scenes in politics. Very fast!

And of course, I can't help but notice the TIME magazine article, that talks about bloggers being inflential but of course, never mentions mommybloggers, or personal bloggers that write about IF or medical/illness subjects. I can't help but think that we are getting somewhere, and influencing something, even if they dismiss us. But it does seem strange that there isn't one word anywhere about us, doesn't it? I'll bet Pizza Hut knows who we are. (chuckle)

There are a bunch of posts I've been saving up in my head about the Liberal Party Convention and my Crime Victim conference, perhaps tonight I'll write them out. I think I've been distracted by both real life and the blogger silliness. Time to get back to changing the world.

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Baaaad jokes

Nicole made a funny in a comment below, and I realized that my sense of humour has been sadly missing in action lately.

I know no one will ever be able to follow these comments back and forth-- but in answer to, "if you know of any spells that may work, I'll take that too."

No, sorry, I don't know of any spells, but I have had several occult pregnancies.


Yes I just made a miscarriage laugh dammit!

(Oh, and to be clear, I've had losses and IF and my friends and I get to make jokes, major food chains don't)

Anyone else have any good jokes? I could just insert some of my favourite YouTube videos here, but you must know a few? Follow the instructions below to sign in, or email them to me, and I'll put them up.

Friday, December 15, 2006

The world is calming right down....

So, it turns out that when they cauterize a bleeding nose they only need to use this little stick with a chemical on the end. (silver nitrate? not sure...cute doctor's accent confused me) They only use the super long nose camera thingy for bleeds waaaay high up. And considering how long this thing was, it could've tickled the back of his brain.

And yes, that is as technical as I get with the boys health. I know every detail of every cell in MY body that a Doctor has ever looked at, but whenever I try to look things up for the kids, or even walk into Sick Kids, I become a blithering idiot. I put on a very good show, so calm and together you'd never know that everything going in my brain was just pouring out the other side in a puddly mess. Of course, the kid was perfectly calm and relaxed. Just played his video game thingy, and ignored the Doctor totally. I used to hate those portable video games, until I discovered that they are a great method of anesthesia when a sick child is stressed out. If it was up to me there would be a flat screen TV on the ceiling of every medical room in the world. And DVD players for kids with every video they like. Really, would you rather calmly take blood from a child transfixed by the Bionicles, or would you prefer having 4 parents and staff sit on his arm and chest while he screamed? Thank god for Nintendo!

The good news is that now he will never (okay 80% likely never) ever have another nosebleed again. It turns out he had a bunch of weak blood vessels on both sides, so this was necessary now or in the future.

And of course, with all of this, plus Xmas, I forgot to take my letrazole. So here's hoping I'm not going to waste these OPKs. If not, it's okay because really, I need another month or so of good sleep, extra vitamins, and my Golite. With my weak-ass ovaries, I need all the help I can get, right?

If you don't think I'm a bitch, read on

Look, right now I feel 3 inches high after today. It has been a tough week in the female blogosphere. And in my familysphere. I love reading blogs. I feel like I have 3 million new buddies everytime I get online. Problem is that I really need a label on my head first to warn people: hormonally challenged, highly emotional, intensely loyal, overreacting, political ADD chick who is newish to blogging but has been doing this crap IRL for like 10 or 15 years.

Even my forehead won't fit THAT!

So the next time I come out with a zinger that pisses anyone off, you really need to tell me, email me, or leave a comment. And if you don't want to use my well-intentioned ideas, pat me on the head and ignore me, but always know that my heart really is in the right place, not JUST directly below the foot stuck in my mouth, okay?

Oh, and as far as commenting, I'm in Beta, which sucks BTW, and if your blog is not beta blogger, or you are smart and use typepad, then here's how to comment without transferring your current blog.

Basically you create a google ID (an email address), user name (user name can't be changed later so try to get one you like) and password at the beta site.

They may ask you if you want to create a blog...easy solution, say no, but under the About Me description, write

"My usual internet name is Blahblah and my real blog is at *insert my address here* . You can email me at blahblah @ sdnlsdk "

and this will allow me to see you and wave madly, maybe even visit your blog too. I personally like it when people show me where they are from, just because it makes life a little friendlier, but I also get privacy and I swear to never reveal anyone's personal details, if they don't want them known.

I have to go sleep now. At lunch time Friday my 10yo kidlet with a bleeding nose is getting cauterized. I am trying to convince myself that really they aren't going to stick a large electric cattle prod up his nasal artery, it will just be a tiny thing...but it's hard. I think this will be way harder than the ER. I mean all they did there was hold bandages on him. Today they will stick a metal surgical instrument up his nose and send an electric shock through it. It will be painless, and simple, and end all the nosebleeds.

It will be okay. I will not practice transference. I will not take my nervousness out on internet people, even meanies.

I'll write about it later.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Pizza Hut is never getting another dime from me

*Update below* & *Again*

There are so many things wrong here, I don't even know where to begin...

Pizza Hut UK is running this campaign, but rest assured Pizza Hut Canada and Pizza Hut Head Office owned by Yum Co.!, and/or Pepsico. Doesn't matter, because I will blame ALL of you jointly and severally. IMHO, anyone who could dream up such and s----- and c---- campaign truly deserves the title of (Blank). (I took this obscene name down cause they took their site down)

Oh, and BTW, I will be phoning and emailing all my close family & friends who are IF and adopted and adopting all about your "lighthearted campaign."

And especially about your kind and sensitive letter to Kim.Kim, written by Simon Wallis, Director of Retail Marketing, UK. I'll tell them all to write Mr.Wallis at . Then they can share their experiences of adopting cheesy bread bites, for cash, and then eating them....oops their children, oops their cheesy bread....

Oh, and Pizza Hut, just a little FYI but did you know that statistically hedge fund managers and stock traders must also be adopted, or adopting and have gone through IF? I don't know anyone like that personally, so I could never tell them a thing myself, but I wonder what happens when they google your company, get offended, and short sell your stock? (Okay no one should do this for real, just pointing out something that should've been bloody obvious to anynone with a brain)

I'm just a consumer....maybe you don't care about me...but I'm betting you care about Wall Street. Doncha?

Updated to add: Turns out that the adopt-a-bite site has been taken down...good. I hear some incredibly mature person at Pizza Hut ended it. Now I'm just wondering when we all get our apology. Feel free to comment on any of our blogs, or email us Weiden & Kennedy. Yes, I saw that you clicked on my blog from your static IP.

Hello! \/\/\/\ (that's me waving my hand)

So, why didn't you leave a comment? Not sure what to say? Take a lesson from my son: It starts with "I'm sorry." If a six year old can manage it, you could try too.


Update for Dec.18th : They still haven't apologized, but at this point, I'm sure they all just wish this would go away so I figure we're at detente, right? I'm less angry right now, more like disappointed in them. I'm not going to buy anything from them still, but I'll stop gossiping about them with the other people I know. I DO think all their own mothers would all be ashamed of them though!

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

People watching in the ER

I have a new admiration for the Hospital for Sick Children, aka Sick Kids. Why, you ask? Because my oldest son and I just spent the day, the whole day, in the ER, with the world's most voluminous bloody nose.

Yes, I tied up a world famous ER with a mere bloody nose. To be fair, the pediatrician told me to go there when I described the nose that bled profusely, seriously, and disgustingly for a solid hour from 8:30 am in the car on the way to school until 9:30 when we met the nurse at the desk. In between, I had let him out at the school door because the blood looked so itty-bitty, felt guilty about abandoning my child, ran back to his class, held his head while horrible things came out, and rushed him back to the car.

It dried up as soon as the nurse looked him (*Sigh*) and I was embarassed to have wasted the hospital's time, until it started again for an hour or so, and back and forth it went for most of the day. We were seen right away by a nurse, checked, and then waited forever to see a Doctor. I didn't mind because lots of other kids were coming in with serious illnesses and injuries. And they certainly ranked above a bloody nose, right?

(How do I know the following details for sure? I listened in through the thin-as-gossamer "privacy" curtain, duh. To make up for my unintentional nosiness, I did make sure large piles of tissues were close to anyone crying, and if they looked up at me, I tried to smile and say something helpfulish.)

People who obviously rank above a bloody nose on the bad events scale:

Babies coming in who were being transferred from other hospitals to the NICU.

A girl whose fingers had been broken by being slammed in a school door by a bully (she needed surgery, and may have suffered permanent nerve damage.)

A seriously disabled child, confined to a wheelchair, having problems with a feeding tube.

Heartbreaking, really truly awful.

And in the category of "Stories I couldn't believe were true":

4-year old girl has severe diaper rash, to the point where she has open sores on her rear end. She also has some sort of gastrointestinal problem that is making everything worse. This has been going on for 2 months now. So now she is screaming in pain at the mere anticipation of the doctor or nurse coming in. In the end, I hear that the kid no longer eats normal food, because her mother has been forcing mineral oil down her throat, mushy cereal, and endless bottles of juice and milk. Not cups, bottles...and no her mother has never used diaper cream to clear up the rash, or tried encouraging potty training.


Instead the woman is convinced her daughter is either "allergic to her diaper", or "has a disease". I watch in amazement as the doctors gently explain that 4 year old children need normal food, and that a paste-like diaper cream is mandatory, perhaps they could think about ending diapers, hmm? And since the X-ray has shown that her distended stomach is jammed full of umm, waste, the little girl will need a prescription to clean her out just this once, but after that, no more mineral oil, no more giant bottles of juice & milk, and what the heck, some follow-up visits to her Family Doc to check on the sores and ensure the plan is carried out? A reasonable and calm plan, one she might follow only because "Sick Kids told her to do it."

The parents are both seemingly intelligent people, over 30, and yet---I feel a desperate need to smack them with a large Bad Parent Stick. How do those nurses & docs do it? How do they sit there and treat people with respect in the face of such obviously crappy parenting. I could not do it. It was all I could do not to get up, rip aside the curtain, and scream, "You stupid asshats! You don't deserve a child!"

But I didn't. I was quiet and discrete and Canadian. I held the packing bandages up to my own kid's nose until he stopped bleeding, got our test results, got the referral to the ENT, and quietly left, thanking every nurse and doctor I saw.

The staff at Sick Kids are awesome. I love you all to bits.

I'm sure someday someone will see this post and wonder if it's true, sorry guys, but Christ, I could not make this shit up if I tried. Hmm, and as I'm rereading it, I'm thinking I'll get the Bad Parent Stick out and tranform it into a Bad Bully Stick, and track down the school bully above and take all my hormonal aggression on him. What do you think?

Monday, December 11, 2006

Redeeming my Day

I was having a peaceful if boring weekend, computer humming along nicely again, when I happened upon a certain site, and my screen filled up with bitter angry words. I don't know who they are, or why they do this, but I sunk into a funk just reading them.

And tonight I watched the The Grinch who Stole Christmas, and Frosty and felt better. Because if the Grinch can be redeemed then my day can be as well, right?

So, today is the first day of my new life, literally. Because today is Day 1 of my next cycle. The countdown begins....will she ovulate? Who knows? Only time and money spent on OPKs can tell.
I'm doing this one on my own, and next month if my RE will take me back, maybe at the clinic. His staff don't like me, because they only like successful people. Failures are hard to be around. I know this because they told me...asshats. Luckily Dr. C. is a kind and hopeful man. Plus he likes big honking wads of cash, and is willing to set aside his ethics for a price.

I'm off to dream of dildocams and progesterone. Nighty-night!

Saturday, December 09, 2006

A little help anyone?

I must remember to never, ever let my husband "surprise" me by "fixing" my computer while I am away. Dear sweet DH knows about many things, like his job, & how to be a Dad. He does NOT know computers.


I now have to buy a new hard drive backup, back up the few shredded data files left, and format my hard drive. Complete start over....feh. Plus I visited a website which was generally a decent one, and something awful downloaded onto my computer from it. I think Norton and Spysweeper have removed it, but IE is still freezing if I go back to the site, so now I'm confused.

I'm still attempting to "fake it til I make it". Not sure it will work. Any technical assvice is sincerely appreciated, dear internets.

Friday, December 08, 2006

Taking My Own Assvice

I am very good at assvice, not so good at following it. Sooo, I must now swallow my pride and do what Catherine is doing. She is attempting to fake it until she makes it. And she's right...

I know because I told her to do the same exact thing last summer, and she thought I meant to fake being happy until she had a live baby. I clarified later, and told her that I think "making it" means being able to walk down the street without running screaming into traffic.

Hard thing to do, but I must hitch up my bits and do it nonetheless or Christmas will not happen. Plus, there are more good things in the pipe, like DH bringing home another bonus cheque tonight. We will then pay off yet another credit card! Yayyy! Now, I can rack it up at the fertility clinic in January...hehe.

And I can't worry about my so-called friends reaction, right? Because who cares...must bluster through. Feh...she was a bitch anyway. Okay, not really...oh yeah, I wrote her as a "he" cause I hate writing "they", but I should've stuck closer to real life, so as not to confuse myself...

The second thing that was getting me down, BTW, goes back to a recent episode of Studio 60. One of the writers, and an actor on the show, is an acquaintance. (Our kids play together) He knows about my personal history because I invited him to a fundraiser for my support group --- his wife asked about the connection --- I disclosed, and they found out why I literally didn't smile from 2003 until a few months ago. Nothing like, "My babies died" to stop a conversation....
And guess who the latest character he plays is based on? Yep, it's me....right down to the traumatized expression he mimicked, and the description of helping a grieving person as a mitzvah. (I wrote this phrase in the invite to the fundraiser.) He gave me no warning, just a feeling of serious public humiliation at morning drop off at our school. I know future shows will be worse....I am really hoping his kid doesn't say anything stupid to my son....or I'll have to freak on him.

The character is supposed to be a grieving dad whose wife and 2 year old were killed in a car accident, and the producer and head writer need someone to fill in for the writers who quit. So they hire him to write the comedy show, even though he never laughs & never smiles. There's no evidence it's me really, nothing I can prove, just a very creepy familiarity every time I see the show. Like looking in a slightly warped mirror. I also feel a bit used for commercial purposes, like my grief has been hijacked by a TV show to sell airtime.

Can't think about it, instead I will fake joy until I make joy, right? Right?

Thursday, December 07, 2006

Too Many Penalties

I am still tired after the convention, or so I pretend to myself. Really, I've been sleepless for a couple of weeks now. It's not getting better.

The reasons? There are two.

I saw an old friend of mine from Young Liberal days recently and we were chatting away. He and I have a lot of respect for each other and never get to talk as much as we'd like to. As we're talking about plans for the convention, and getting together for drinks afterwards, maybe lunch, I set down my purse. And out everything falls---

Including two pill bottles, one labelled Concerta, the other Ritalin, with my name on both. He's not blind, he sees it and he knows. I gather up my purse and make jokes about having to clean it out, get rid of some of the junk. He kind of fake laughs.

I see him during the convention, but he is distant. I make the internal excuse that he is busy. He is working too, and we can't take time to talk. Except I know it's crap. At the end he is text messaging that we should get together for lunch. I reply yes. I stupidly let my hopes rise. Maybe he won't judge me, maybe we will still be friends.

Maybe I won't have to pay a penalty this time. Oh yeah, I've been thoroughly suckered.

ADHD is a real disease, and it has a very effective treatment, one I wish I'd found oh about 30 or so years ago. But I didn't, and I didn't have parents who gave enough of a damn to help me and for a very long time, I've been saying the exact wrong thing at the exact wrong time. It's called inappropriate verbal impulsivity, and I've got it in spades. I am also late for everything, and completely disorganized with paper. These are not great qualities in politics.

On the upside, I am intelligent, quick thinking, good at media and campaign analysis, and people reading. I've been told by more than one political buddy that I have awesome instincts. And when my drugs are working, and not screwed up by hyperthyroidism or other medical issues, I am a kick ass campaigner.

But I'll never get to prove it to my old friend. The Label is on my head. He hasn't called, and I'm betting he never will. After all, hasn't the media made it clear that ADHD is made up, just another excuse for lazy people. Now they can take drugs and be sucked in by the pharmaceutical industry. Maybe they can get addicted like Lynette on Desperate Housewives! See, when she put her kids in private school, they no longer needed drugs...just proves it's all made up. Right? Right?

Never mind the dozens of politicians who have ADD, (including at least two of the leadership candidates in the recent campaign, f'ing guaranteed, stake my life on it.) I know because I've seen it, plain as day, the same symptoms, the same problems with impulse control. The zingers delivered on the floor of the House of Commons, interspersed with flashes of brilliance. The dozens of cups of coffee, the drinking, the wild and amazing ideas, the passionate debates.

I wish, I wish, I wish...I wish my life was different. I wish I was diagnosed earlier, I wish my purse hadn't opened, I wish I could take back all the stupid things I've said and done in my life.

But it's too late.

I'll write more later. I'm so so sad right now.

I'm editing and shifting today

So if something pops up as republished, apologies. My labels need reorganizing and my links & lists need updating.

I guess turning off my feeds, and weblog updater while updating would stop everything from popping up over and over. Then I could turn it on again after, right? Unless everything came through all at once....feh...

Share the Love y'all, Share the Love

*Warning: Snark Alert!*

*Edited to add, I woke up and realized my mixture of funny and serious may have offended some of you, apologies, please attempt to see my 2:30 am version of humour. If anyone is pissed, I'll change or take down parts, K?*

So I am happy to report that my Canadian hits may actually be growing...I've only been doing this for months now, but yes, someone has finally noticed from INSIDE my own damn country. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE my buddies from all around the world, but it was getting a bit strange. A few posts back I used the name of a well-known Canadian blogger, and well, gee, here we are! Should've done this earlier, although minus the heavy breathing might've been good. Hopefully I haven't scandalized anyone.

Of course, later on I might've mentioned a dildocam story, and scared them off, or used a term like TTC and made them think I was unable to get on a bus. hehe - (TTC = trying to concieve, but in Toronto, TTC = Toronto Transit Commission) Yeah, I need to catch that bus boys, bring that Red Rocket home to mama....

Soooo, in the last week or more, I've missed much doings in the blog world and newsworld. I've been reading like mad to catch up, and here goes with just a few of my faves. - Santa has been sick! Eeek! Poor sweetie...(Does this get me on the nice list? Cause I'd like a gift-see below) - Manuela's vacation pix may have inspired me to get tatooed --- or just go to Vegas. Check out her design and you will see that those dudes at the Blog Awards have no idea what they missed. Seriously, though, she could use some love too, go visit, she's worried she may not be able to "get on the bus" either. - Baggage needs some sperm. Got any? Y'know, just lying around somewhere? *Sigh* I swear, sometimes I think it would be easier to score some ecstasy than to get some good, germ-free, frozen sperm....I'm really trying Bags, for you - anything.

On a less jokey note, any lawyers know how to help AJW5403 at ? I'm thinking anonymous tipline...but I'm not sure?!? I mean there is a gun involved and all?

And just for good measure, Cecily at has yet another highly controversial, and kick ass ethical discussion on dwarves, deaf culture, and PGD. (Don't ask me, you have to click on it to find out.)

Sadly it is now time to inform the media, that since I am a mother I too must automatically be a homicidal, post partum depressed child killer, with a penchant for alienating my children from their father, and a schizo tendency to alternate between the twin evils of staying home and neglecting my kids, and/or putting them in bad daycare. (This last one depends on who is beating me with *The Bad Mother Stick* at the time. So hard to keep track...)

Santa, one tiny gift please? For Christmas, could one major newspaper SOMEWHERE on earth write a story entitled, "New study proves: Majority of mothers do a good job." It would just be nice to get a pat on the back instead of a kick in the ass sometimes.

That's all.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Returned to earth

and my very boring life. Leadership is over, my jetsetting meetings are over, and I am so freakin' wiped I can't believe it. Poor DH is incomprehensibly tired, and since as per usual he refuses to go to a Doctor, his cold has turned into a wicked chest cough/bronchitis thing.

I must now nurse my big baby back to health, if he will let me. Cutting out red wine, fine french cheeses, and getting eight hours of sleep at night might help, all ideas that don't fly much in this house- The little babies survived. They refused to eat anything while I was gone, and since his idea of feeding them involves preparing complicated sophisticated gourmet meals, & yelling at them when they refuse to eat the vile stuff, I'm back to fattening up the kids like the witch in Hansel & Gretel.

I might stop by the campaign office and help cleanup, but after that, I'm back to laundry and blogreading I guess. And of course, promptly returning those v skinny jeans. (Insert muffled laughter here).

Tell you all more about the bizarre conference tomorrow...must sleep now.

Monday, December 04, 2006

I came back and I left...ahhh the jetsetter life

First of all, I did manage to keep it together and look good for the last five days. In fact, some people might even say I looked that part worked out well, thank God!

The quick version, and I'll blog more details later, is that my candidate, Gerard Kennedy, did not win, and in fact, decided to drop out one ballot early and send his support to Stephane Dion. As a result, Dion won, defeated Michael Ignatieff and now Dion owes everything to Kennedy. All of which is good in the end for the party, for me, and for my favourite pet cause.

BUT, in the process, I just about lost my mind I sobbed so hard. This event just about crushed me, seriously....

After Gerard dropped out, I text messaged a friend, "My heart is broken. I'm spoiling my ballot."

And I almost did. I sat in the voting room, crying my eyes out trying to put that damn X in a box, any box that didn't say Gerard Kennedy for close to thirty minutes. There was a bunch of us there, looking at each other, not sure if we could bring ourselves to do it.

And finally I did.

So did 90% of the Kennedy delegates, an unusual event because so few people follow their candidate. None of the other ones did, but we all did, because Gerard is the kind of candidate that actually believes in something. Brains, charisma, looks, sort of like Bill Clinton, (without the extramarital affair part, hehe.) Jeanette is a very lucky woman. Gerard was so sweet to me afterwards at the party, he said he was sorry for doing this to me again 10 years later! Strangely enough it is almost 10 years to the date of the end of the provincial leadership campaign where he lost to Dalton McGuinty...and that political campaign really just about killed me.

If you want to know all the political details, etc. click on my sidebar link for Warren Kinsella's blog, or you can just get the chance to see what my new friend Warren looks like. Admittedly, he is much better looking in real life. (The camera angle and the hat don't do him justice.) Turns out that even though his blog is a bit "Gotcha!", IRL he is the sweetest kindest person, a true gentleman. And apart from the whole political thing, I'm wishing him good thoughts right now because he is still in mourning for his nephew, who died last summer. We had started emailing shortly before that and it was very very sad to read his description of the experience. His nephew was 17, in a car accident, and I know that some people reading this blog know a little bit about grief, whatever the circumstances. Think a few nice thoughts for him, K?

To end my story, yes the convention was awesome, and the trip home was long and headachy due to my overconsumption of wine, but still and all, good....

I came home and was greeted by chaos and hugs and kisses. Yes, the children survived...unfortunately DH may not. He looked like he had just about been run over, and when he figured out that I was flying out to Ottawa today and coming back again late tomorrow, he was NOT a happy guy.

The conference is starting so I have to leave the computer now. It's on crime victims and ways to help them survive and thrive. (I hate that title, but whatever, as long as we get some results, right?)

More later...

Friday, December 01, 2006

Meeting bloggers in person

It's really weird meeting internet friends in person, because inevitably they are very different than on the web. Libloggers, so far seem to be similar to Trekkies, 22 year old basement dwellers devoted to their computers, and afraid to speak to girls. I guess they're worried we might bite.

But not every Liberal blogger...yesterday, I met a well-known one for the first time. We've had an email relationship for ages, we are both in Toronto, yet we had never met in person at party events.

And he's cute. Really cute.

I'm married, and he's married and barely knows who I am, but damn----he's cute.

These are the moments when I'm glad I still have my eyesight---and can enjoy it.


Thursday, November 30, 2006

I'm up, I'm down, all around

I walked up to an organizer for Michael Ignatieff, (not my DLC), and discovered that my pitch for better treatment of women suffering from infertility, miscarriage, stillbirth and neonatal has fallen on deaf ears.

And at first, I was so angry that I wanted to beat him with a stick. But then I realized that I had another tactic in my arsenal.
You see some of his supporters, including an old friend of mine, have suffered losses, major losses. I hadn't wanted to approach Senator M. and bother her, because I didn't want to upset her, but at this point, I had no option.
So, I've spoken to her and she will be approaching Ignatieff and making it clear that he has gotten some really bad advice. And maybe he'll respond and maybe he won't.

But dammit I'm not giving up!

Onward and upward...lobbying more of these bastards to see if we can save a few of our children, and maybe save a few moms as well.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

I won't be able to check all of your blogs, darn

I am so buying a laptop after this! Basically, I can check email at the internet cafe, but can't take enough time to read stuff. So I hope you are all okay, and email if anything wild happens.

And no I never did take the jeans back, they are sitting in my room, in the bag, under a pile of junk. Do I know me or what?

If any of you are in Montreal and you see large numbers of people strolling around with rollie bags behind them, looking lost and confused, take pity on us. We are the refugees of the Liberal party....pathetically wandering in the deserts waiting for a new leader.

But so far, I know a whole lot of people, so this is good, right? I may be lost and wandering around, but I'm in good company.

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Just realized why I'm nervous

I have never left my kids alone with the DH for longer than 48 hours before. Hmm, well, actually 5 years ago I left them with him for 3 days, so that's not quite true. But, when that happened, he was fine for the first day, took the next day off work to recover, fell apart that evening after trying to get them to bed, and gave up and called a full-time babysitter in for the final day.

Now, don't get me wrong, little DS was only a year old, and the older one was quite a handful, but still, I keep hoping that this will all work out this time. And why would I worry? Because I'm the default parent. I'm the one who knows everything there is to know about lunches and homework and clothes and vaccinations, and which friend is the current "best friend." He's busy working like a fiend and earning money, so he misses out on their lives, and doesn't know about the important things. In the meantime, I'm leaving tomorrow morning, and after a shopping spree at the Gap I have some clothes thank goodness. I've left great instructions, my cellphone number, and warned the school and the neighbours.

So now, I just need to relax and trust that my husband can actually take care of his two kids all by himself.

Can't be that hard right?


Monday, November 27, 2006

V skinny jeans don't fit!

Crap, crap, crap.

So if I keep using Tertia words and acronyms, do you think I can be as skinny as she is? In only 36 hours?


I tried them on at home tonight and discovered they are very short, as well as tight at the ankle, which I guess is part of the look, but the problem is that I have bizarre muffintops at the waist. Not nice and even all around but seriously warped. Actually puckered at the belly button. Damn stretchmarks...didn't even get a live baby out of this last set, but I still got the evidence.

My choices:
1) Take back jeans to far away downtown Winners tomorrow, try to find another pair one or two sizes up.
2) Go to Gap, and try to find another pair of jeans quickly. Return too small jeans several months from now after losing them under pile of junk in corner.
3) Make new pants out of plastic garbage bags and stapler.

Vote now, this is your chance to influence the Prime Ministership of Canada!

Too serious all the time, need some frills

The last posts have been very heavy duty serious and while it is good to contemplate a navel or two, at some point, well, maybe we all need a break?

In that spirit, this week I'm off to the Liberal Leadership Convention, and what is my greatest crisis? Not which candidate to support, cause I've got an awesome one, and not where I'm staying, or how I'm getting there. No....not even how I'll vote on various policy resolutions, & constitutional resolutions, even the idiotic nationhood one.

The greatest crisis I face is that I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR!

Montreal is one of the most fabulous cosmopolitan cities in the world. The rest of Canada is hideously boring and blase, but Montreal and Quebec City are amazing. (Okay maybe I'm being a bit hard on the Rest of Canada...hmmm, may change that last bit.) It's just that from a fashion perspective, Quebec IS very amazing. I've literally never seen a badly dressed woman anywhere in Quebec. Even the women who have no money, bad body shape, etc. etc. seem to look kickass.

And so the pressure is on. I must dress well, or least decently from Wednesday to Sunday. Then I can go back to usual mom slobbiness, k? I went to Winners today and tried to find a decent pair of the new style skinny jeans, and at least one pair of dressy black pants. Hopefully more than one. Because as my regular readers know I am both on a budget, and up a size or two due to thyroid nuttiness. Therefore, my awesome, black velvet Gap pants are very tight. And both pairs of my coolest looking jeans. And don't even ask about my seriously fab casual pants and skirts that I now split out of.

So, I did find a couple of pairs of pants, and a new sweater, and a white dressy shirt. Now, I just have to remember not to wear my new white shirt with my new black pants or I will look like a waiter. Whoops! The other complication is that I have bought a few new sweaters and shirts to go with my new larger thyroid enhanced breasts. It was either that or burst out of a shirt like Britney Spears did. But the new sweaters are still a bit tight on my throat, which is a bit irritated and swollen still.

The long and short of it is that I am madly packing and trying things on and throwing things willy nilly everywhere in a total panic. I no longer give a damn who gets elected leader of the party, I just want to look HOT on the convention floor. Especially because I will not be dragging any small children with me to the convention. Unlike previous conventions, my purse will not have a breast pump, spare Teletubby underpants, or Baby Tylenol. No bloody noses and tissues, no curfew for Mom, no babysitter guilt.

And don't even get me started on the choices in shoe selection! I'm going to need a separate suitcase just for shoes.

I am Mary freakin' Poppins everyday of my life, and do I love it normally, but for the next week, I am really going to enjoy not telling anyone to flush and wash their hands, y'know?

Friday, November 24, 2006

The kid gained some weight!

In an earlier post, I had mentioned that my 10 year old is really underweight, like in the 2nd percentile. As of September 29th, he weighed 24.8 kg, or 54.7 pounds. This was due to a combination of things, including being genetically predisposed on both sides to thinness, being a picky 10 year old eater, and taking Concerta for ADD.

So my Pediatrician gave us grief and we proceeded to engage in a fattening campaign. Unlike the average family, we already ate very very healthy, so I've had to do a bit of a 180 here. We switched from 1% milk to homogenized milk, started serving dessert after dinner, and changed our snacking habits from fresh fruit to the equivalent of food porn. I'm talking cookies, cakes, pastries, crackers, the kind of stuff we NEVER have around. And this ain't easy these days. Every product on the shelf seems to have reduced its fat or become low-carb. Plus some of his favourite foods like sushi or dim sum are naturally low in fat and calories.

There have been a few times when I had to bribe him to eat a chocolate bar, seriously...

And the good news is, drum roll please...he is now officially 26.6 kg, or 58.6 pounds, plus he grew .5 cm, or a quarter of an inch!! Sigh of relief, we are now above 10th percentile.

And Christmas is coming, so the high fat eating opportunities are everywhere.

Now, I just have to resist the temptation to overeat. I'm at an okay weight, slightly down from the heights of thyroid overeating, so my pants fit, but not underweight either. With all this temptation around the house, it might be difficult to keep an even keel.

But at least my son has gained some weight, thank God.

A Little Inspiration

*Updated below*

Mel's post about blogs that have disappeared has made me think about Jessica's last postings over at Cancer, Baby. After I commented on Mel's post, I went back over to Jessica's blog, still up, thank God, (I hope they NEVER take down such a beautiful monument to her life). I sat and reread a whole bunch of posts and comments.

And cried out loud all morning.

Even though I've never met, never emailed with her, and didn't even know she had existed until after her death. What is it about the blogworld and the internet that has changed everything for me? Why does the media keep telling me that nothing is changed by the internet? I emailed a Toronto Star columnist, David Olive, a while back when he ranted on about this, and pointed out Jessica's blog, among others. He wrote back, "You're right: as a business writer, I have been preoccupied by the overblown financial promise of the Web, overlooking the millions of often specialized conversations happening in real time about real issues."

Yes, David I am right.

I know because I've changed, I've grown, I've learned so much.

Maybe the internet wasn't ever meant to teleport our bodies around the world. Maybe just our hearts.

Edited to add: I just clicked over to YouTube and saw this.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

To the Turducken people...

*Updated below*

This week and especially today, I seem to have attracted some hits from people in the U.S. who are searching for Turducken cooking instructions, recipes, etc.

Ummm, this blog may not be quite what you are looking for!

Yes, I managed to cook one, and it turned out rather well even though we did not follow the precise directions we were given. And it was delicious, but still...I really don't think you want to read about my Turducken dreams. Seriously, it may turn you off eating the dish forever.

Anyway, I would like to thank all my new US friends for sticking with me and reading all about my neuroses. You have turned my lonely infertility journey into a giant group hug. Because of the blog world, I know for sure that there are other people who share the same rollercoaster feelings I do. Now, I may never have to feel alone again.

And that ain't no small thing to give thanks for.

(Edited to add: Thanks to ALL my internet friends, US, UK, everywhere....Sorry Thalia! Just realized that US friends could also mean ultrasound friends? Guffawing at own pun now.)

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Five things about me that you don't know

Sky Maybe has tagged me to write about "Five things about me that you don't know". Now, the last time I participated in one of these all hell broke loose what with troll infections, etc. But this time will be better right? It must! Especially because I'm going to reveal some really new stuff.

1. I have ADD, techincally ADHD inattentive type. I've had it all my life, and was never diagnosed until about 5 years ago. Ritalin, Dexedrine and more specifically Concerta now have radically changed my life. Unfortunately, this does not undo a lifetime of unmedicated verbal gaffes, school failures, broken friendships and employment issues. Why haven't I written about this before? Because when I have told people, they think less of me, and tell me so.

And if all of you on the internet did that, it would kill me.

ADD is a real disease and people like me really suffer when we can't function, but it is also the joke du jour for the public, and the medical profession. So real sufferers like me hide, terrified we will be humiliated by bullies.

2. On a lighter note, I have previously hired a professional organizer to deal with my house, and I may have to do it again. My basement is getting so bad, I can't walk in it! This is a problem because many important things are in it, like Christmas presents---

3. Those credit cards we paid off recently? Weeell, to start DH's new business we loaded up credit cards and lines of credit, to the tune of $123,000. As of today, we have paid off two Visa's and one Amex, at $20,000, $9,000, and $11,000, for a total of $40,000. We still owe $83,000, but a large part of that is the line of credit for the house and car. Yes, tsk, tsk...I know, but starting the business was worth the risk, even when there have been months when I couldn't figure out how to pay the bills. The good news is, now we can.

4. My DH makes a dramatically larger salary than me, and since he is so much farther ahead in his career, I can never catch up. By the time I make as much as he does, he will have retired. When we met he was already in a law firm and made loads of cash. He was also 8 years older. It didn't matter at the time, but as I've gotten older and it's been harder and harder to catch up, it does tend to wear on the ego to realize that I'll never be his financial equal. Morally, mentally, in parenting skills, and in lots of other areas, we are equals, but in earning capacity, not. And yes, this is a frustration.

5. I am not just an advocate for grieving parents and the infertile, I also advocate for victims of crime, especially abused women and children. In fact, I'm going to a conference in December that will bring together victims, law enforcement, prosecutors, shelter administrators, and others to try to find solutions to the problems women experience. I'm not sure if this will work or not, but hey, it can't hurt to try, right?

So, here I am internet, hoping that you are open and accepting of me. And I'm tagging AJW5403 at My Pain I Hide, and my newest commenter, (welcome!), NinaB at White Chocolate Baby Dream. V cool name for a blog BTW...

Starting fresh in January

I have put off attempting to get pregnant for awhile, because I have been worried about the possibility of thyroid complications. Plus I've been trying to get my head sorted out about a bunch of issues including my marriage, our finances, and my own mental muddle about how I view my life.

But my hyperthyroid/Graves Disease/TMG blah blah aside, I am slowly getting unmuddled about my marriage. My husband has tried being patient over the years, and I've tried being patient with him, but neither of us are very good at handling serious stress. And starting a new business can be very stressful.

We are finally digging out of the financial mess we have been in for a few years, and that has prompted great relief, plus my DH thinks that he and his partners can finally give themselves some serious raises in January. And best of all, the long awaited dream of a benefit plan might happen. (Yes in Canada we have free health care but not for prescription drugs used out of hospital, unless you are poor or elderly, or have a plan through work. We have had none of these.)

And throughout this financial craziness, I have not been working for a variety of reasons. Some times I feel like truly sick, and other times merely lethargic, and quite often depressed at the choices I have. If I got to work at a job I enjoy, it will mean long hours and our family life can't take that. Or I can get some crappy job I am bored at, with fewer hours, and way less pay. This will crush my self-esteem. My DH knows this but he tends to think, well, "who cares, just get a job"---trouble is, at the first sign that my job is interfering with his life, he starts haranging me to quit! Quite two-faced, hmm?

The therapist I have right now has been helping me with sorting out my feelings about my birth family and my adoptive family, maybe I'll talk about that in another post----it's getting better, but it's kind of upsetting still.

As for my kids, they are settling into school, and life is calmer. There are still jolts here and there like discovering that my oldest son is underweight, like in the 2nd percentile and we have to feed him like crazy or else. We go for another weigh-in on Friday and I'm hoping he will have gained weight soon. We switched to homo milk from 1% and I'm feeding him anything he'll eat. Combination of picky eater + ADD kid on Concerta + excellent low fat family diet + inherited skinny gene= superskinny child. I think I may have gone overboard on the vegetables! Interesting factoid though, I have now discovered that one cup of homo milk plus 2 tablespoons of Nestle Quik chocolate syrup is the same amount of calories and fat as Pediasure. And stunningly cheaper! Throw in a Flintstones once a day and we're covered.

So if things stay stable around here, and life is calmer, maybe I will try to get pregnant again. Supposedly, my thyroid is in "remission" from Grave's Disease right now. Either that or I have a brain tumour and I can do nothing about that, so I'm going with the remission theory. (The brain tumour on my pituitary is a rare remote possibility, and I'm writing here just so I can verbalize it, and stop being afraid of it, silly, but helps me stay sane) I'll just have to get monitored during pregnancy and until then once a month get my TSH, T3, & T4 measured and see if that works.

I'm on Day 4 of this cycle right now, so I'll HRT for awhile and count down until January. Then let the fun begin, right?

Friday, November 17, 2006

Yes, I'm alive

Just a short post to say, I'm alive and feeling more mentally energetic. (Did I mention I sincerely believe that estrogen is a sacrament for the premature menopause set?)

Unfortunately, my lungs are not cooperating. I have some sort of chest cold with cough, that has turned me into a hacking, wheezing caricature of myself. I sound like a TB patient from the 19th Century, ever so classy...

I'm on puffers, and ibuprofen and steam and blah, blah, blah....and my husband has the same thing, and so does the youngest kid. So far I am keeping my head up and coping, I just haven't been able to comment and post and surf everywhere. But I am reading everybody's posts.

On the good side, we paid off another couple of credit cards this week with another bonus from the DH's work. I know everybody has debts and credit card problems, but someday I'll outline it all here. You know that line from the song, "They had outrageous parties and paid heavenly bills"? Well, that's us, except we had outrageous expenses, no parties unfortunately---and it's all been on credit.

Now it is disappearing, slowly. This might be a nice Christmas after all!

TTYL internets, I have to go have a hacking cough.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

What would I do?

Over at Stirrup Queens and Sperm Palace Jesters, The Town Criers have been talking about instant motherhood, and how we'd react. I've been thinking about this alot, since really I am terrified of another pregnancy, and boy if I could skip ahead to the baby part that would be great. Don't get me wrong, I love being pregnant, and if I could have a low-risk easy pregnancy & birth I'd do my nine months without a word of complaint. But that's not my lot in life---so instead I complain bitterly, while I vomit, inject myself with HCG every day, take suppositories and pills and pray for a live baby, instead of a dead one.

We've had a few opportunities to skip the pregnancy too, like when I discovered that my husband's 2nd cousin, a teenager, was pregnant, & unmarried. The first thing I thought about was that we could take the baby. In the case, never mind the unmarried teenager part, she was going to a lousy mother, and Children's Aid was going to be monitoring her anyway, so why not ask if she wanted to give up her child to us?

I know, I know, if she just had support and a place to live, etc. etc. she could be a good mom, but that doesn't apply in this case. Her Mom and her family have loads of money. They would never throw her out of the house, but money can't make up for the fact that she is a goof. A high school dropout whose parents are willing to PAY her to go back to school, she would rather sit around her house at night and be a mallrat by day.

Anyway, it turned out that she wanted to keep the baby, and Children's Aid will only allow her to keep custody as long as she lives in her mom's house. They have come close to seizing the little girl on more than one occasion, on the grounds of emotional neglect. Basically, the kid is an accessory for her, like a new cellphone. Yep, great life....

Then a few years ago in Toronto, a baby was found late at night outside City Hall, in the freezing cold. The woman who found him was going home after work, but instead of calling 911 right away, she picked him up and warmed him inside of her coat and shirt. She said later she was so shocked, and it was almost instinctual to nestle the baby into her chest. She wasn't infertile, just a normal woman. Very shortly after someone found her sitting there with the baby and helped her call the police on her cell. The baby turned out to be fine, and it turned out the bio mom was a schizophrenic street person who did not remember she was pregnant. She had gone off her drugs when she found out she was pregnant, and lost connection with reality at that point. She had no idea she was even giving birth since she was psychotic at the time, and had wandered away leaving the baby behind.

Anyway, something like 30 couples called desperate to adopt the baby. Eventually someone did adopt the kid after child services took on the case, because even with meds the bio mom was incapable of taking care of her child, terribly sad. Interestingly I feel more sympathetic to her than I do towards the teenage mom who never left her baby outside. And why? Because the homeless schizophrenic mom was trying to take care of her baby when she went off her drugs, which tells me she cares more about the long-term future of her child than the idiot second cousin-in-law.

And the woman who found the baby first? Apparently this sometimes happens when an abandoned baby has been found, to grab it and hold it---anyway, EMS decided she was a hero for saving the child.

As for me, all I could think about was how much I wanted to be the one who found the baby, and yes, I would've gone to the hospital with it, but would I have had the guts to give the baby back to the cops? To child services and foster care? Oh crap, I don't know...knowing how many mistakes CAS makes, I might wonder for a moment which was the ethical choice.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Kissing some Frogs

I just wanted to say that I'm feeling better, ever so slightly, and I've decided to be a bit more proactive with the Docs and less reactive.

In other words, I'm back on estrogen, "she says as she dances with JOY!" Bwa-ha-ha. And all my other regimes, like prometrium and estrogel, and mega vitamins, etc. Plus, I'm asking my GP for an ultrasound requisition to redo my thyroid ultrasound, and I'm going to bug someone to get my new blood results to see if anything has changed.

Because it's my body, right? Not the Docs, not the hospitals, and not the OHIP billing guys. I don't care if I've had it done already, it was done wrong and it needs to be redone. My RE is very good at fertility and IVF and menopause, but he isn't thyroid specialist, so he can't help me much, although, (god love him he tries). But that's okay.

When I first thought I might have endometriosis I was 21, and had to see 5 different Gynecologists before someone gave me a laser laparoscopy and got rid of it, for awhile anyway. Same multiple Doctor diagnostic goof-ups with infertility and miscarriages, at this point, I swear there have been more hands up my cha than there have been in a 5 star Las Vegas hooker.

So on the thyroid issue, drumroll, please, ta-daaaaaaa, I have had one family Doc, one RE, 2 endocrinologists, one psychiatrist, and 2 radiologists. Silly me, I have at least 2 or 3 more Doctors to go before someone diagnoses me with the actual problem, right? And a few more after that before we get to a cure, right?

I feel more like taking charge at this point, and less demoralized.

In fun news, the kids had a good Halloween, yayyy! My 6 year old was a "monster buster", sort of a Ghostbuster for monsters. He invented this himself, green makeup, giant sword, etc. My 10 year old was a Raccoon, dragging a green garbage bin. To anyone outside of Toronto, you will not understand why this is scary, you'll have to trust me, every adult in our neighbourhood agreed he was the most terrifying creature in Toronto, hands down! I made the raccoon costume, sewing my little hands away, and helped with the makeup. My kids friends came over, and the moms and I all sat around drinking wine and handing out candy, while the husband took the kids around to the houses. I think we had about 100 kids, not bad?

Today was the beginning of hockey season. The 6 year old played his first real game, and did pretty well, and my 10 year old became a goalie. This completely freaked me out, since 10 year old DS is as light as a feather. I kept hoping that the equipment would make up for it. It sort of did, and sort of didn't. Eeek, I'm going to try to be a "good" hockey mom and not kill the first child who tries to hurt my baby. Okay, I won't hurt any other's just really hard hoping and praying that my little guys are really grown up enough to deal with all this. And that I'm grown up enough too.

I guess I'll have to kiss a few frogs before Prince Charming comes along, and haul a few hockey bags.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006


I can't bear to put swear words in a post title, so here this sits. I am so depressed by today's appointment I cannot begin to express it. I'll just say that Doctors suck and I have once again been patted on the head. Ironically, by a woman once again.

In short, there are nodules on my thyroid and I may have a problem, but no one wants to check it out because really, "Dear it's probably all in your head." Yep, because I called myself a SAHM instead of a political lobbyist, therefore I must be wrong, inaccurate, mentally unbalanced, unhinged, and of course, all these "mental issues" must be capable of causing tumours on a body organ....

If no one solves this problem soon, I'm going to go crazy, for real. I'm too nervous to attempt pregnancy if my thyroid will just kill it off. I don't know what to do.

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Away for a few days

I spent the weekend at another Liberal Party convention, and had only sporadic access to the net, so I couldn't post until today.

But I was pleased to see the result of Madonna's Malawi court hearing on Friday. Apparently, the judge ruled that there was never a residency requirement for adoption. From AP News, "Typically, prospective parents are required to stay in Malawi during an 18-month evaluation period. But the judge who granted an interim custody order to the Ritchies on Oct. 12 said the issue of residence is not specified in the laws."

Even the groups who filed with the government in protest had to admit that everything has been done legally. So all they can do at this point is ask that the court monitor the adoption, which was going to happen anyway.

In other news, tomorrow morning I go into see the second opinion doctor, and I expect it will be interesting. I'm going to make sure she gets my thyroid scan results, and I'll try to bring the edited version of my health history. Of course, this also means I'll end up missing the Ashley's Warehouse Sale. I've always been there on the first day, crap.

Hmmm, maybe I'll end up spending less money? Probably not....hehe

And I finally got the guts up to talk to a leadership candidate about taking on infertility as a public health issue. I sat down with him for 15 minutes, poor guy, I think he thought I was going to ask him about Afghanistan. Instead, he got dead babies as a subject.

Shocked the crap out of him....but he did promise to talk more about it with me. Now I just have to get ahold of the rest of them. I can't let this go. I may never have another baby myself, but I have to do something to help other families.

And then I saw this news, and this item. The irony is killing me. It is actually easier to come out as a naked pin-up boy MP, (who happens to be running for leadership) or a nudist colony loving Supreme Court Justice than it is to come out as infertile, or as a mother of dead children...

I know it's for a good cause, and I like Scott Brison, but geez louise, what does it say about our society when we don't blink an eye over politicians and Supreme Court Judges being buck naked and people freak out and cry when I speak to them about maternal infant health?

Well, at least Canadians aren't boring, are we?

Friday, October 27, 2006

In defense of Madonna

I've seen too many critical posts about her. Someone has to step in, dammit!

I'm a mess about adoption usually, because mine was so bad, and because so many of them in the past were coerced. Baggage has convinced me that foster care adoption is a good thing, and now Madonna has me thinking about international adoption.

Why do we assume Madonna has to "sell" us on why she wants to adopt this child?I know many celebrities are very "out" like Brangelina, frankly to the point of exploitation of their kids, but Madonna has never done this. She's exposed herself everywhere, but NEVER the bio kids, so why would she treat this differently?

Would it be great if she did come "out"? Yes, but I would never "out" someone against their will. She has to choose, and we can't judge her for that, even if it hurts our own personal desire to educate the public.

Plus, I think Africa is a special case in the adoption world. We in the West have ignored Africa while AIDS has destroyed it. I've voted for politicans to send drugs and help for years and they have done almost nothing, a drop in the bucket.

The entire continent is now facing extinction. Even if we gave out billions of condoms and drugs for everyone, there are entire villages that are devoid of adults.

No teachers

No police

No social workers

No doctors

No nurses

No Mommies

No Daddies

Lord of the Flies, come to life, in Africa, sadly the probable reason the Lord's Resistance Army spread.

I can send money to any other place on earth and adults in those countries *may* adopt, or foster those kids, with enough time and support. But that will never ever happen in Africa, because there is no one left to raise the orphans, except elderly women and young girls.

I believe that my only ethical choices are to either move there (not medically possible for our family), or bring some of those kids to my country. Until my DH agrees to it, (and I'm working on him, seriously...), I'm going to defend anyone who is willing to step up and pitch in. I get that not everyone would suit adoption in Africa, and that really is okay, but how can the media go ape on her like this, when they do so little to help? Or is it because she refused to play their sick little media BS game and cry in public?

I'm still working on politicians every day to make maternal, infant, and fetal health major priorities, here in Canada, and in Africa especially, so I'm trying, but it's barely enough.

Africa is on fire, and she rushed into that burning continent to save at least one child. What the hell have any of us done? Sweet dick all...

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Twiddling my brain away

Well, I've officially discovered the problem with health care. Apparently Doctors are mentally incapable of email, checking a computer, or reading a lab result.

I did my bloods a week ago, but they still haven't sent the results to my family Doc, and big shock, Dr.Evil hasn't bothered to call either. They even faxed a request to the giant monolithic hospital asking for the results to be faxed, but nothing...

Do you think it's really like Grey's Anatomy? Where everyone is too busy screwing everyone else to treat patients? I had always hoped it would be like House, where everyone rushes around and tries as hard as they can to diagnose the patient.

For example, my ultrasound results came back and showed that I had one nodule they could measure. Meanwhile, I watched the guy measure everything on the screen, over and over again. Basically thyroid nodules look like follicles on your ovaries. After this many ultrasounds, it's totally obvious to me he measured lots of little circles, but the report didn't say size, hot or cold, or any other criteria.

So I'm left praying for House to be my new Doctor. Dr.J. is great but she is not a specialist. She has told me herself that my case is too complicated for her. I really like that part about her. She is realistic about her skills and limits, and willing to get me help when I need it.

That said, I was crying this morning when I realized that unless someone helps me soon I may never have another baby. If I am considered borderline hyperthyroid, or TMG, some protocols say you should wait until the patient goes through several cycles of feeling up and down, basically until they are good and sick, THEN treat them.

I'm late thirties, I have only one or two weak crappy eggs left. I don't have time to do this. I'm getting depressed.

It's the hardest part about my losses, the feeling that my babies didn't have to die. If someone had just figured out what was wrong in time, I would have 2 beautiful daughters. My son could not have lived, but they could have.

Yes, I have 2 sons. But having living children is an interesting double-edged sword. They are so wonderful and amazing and fabulous that they remind me of what I am missing, at the same moment that I take joy in who they are. I've told my support group before that if they had kids as awesome as mine are, they'd never give up trying to have children. Because mine are literally the most amazing human beings ever created. And who wouldn't want to replicate that?

And now I may never get to.

I'm so depressed.

Monday, October 23, 2006

How Liberal or Conservative are you?

Your Political Profile:
Overall: 5% Conservative, 95% Liberal
Social Issues: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal
Personal Responsibility: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal
Fiscal Issues: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal
Ethics: 0% Conservative, 100% Liberal
Defense and Crime: 25% Conservative, 75% Liberal


So the Turducken turned out well, and it tasted really good. The one we had was from Cajun stuff so it was a bit spicy in spots. I had wiped the red cajun paste off the top before cooking, because spice is nice, but crust is a bit much!

Everyone couldn't eat all that turducken so I'm left with leftovers and loads of gravy. I sent my kids to school with turducken and gravy in thermos'. This could be their fate all week. And no, no more dreams about c-sections and babies--

I saw something cute on another blog, in the meantime. I took this survey and this is what I came up with.

You Are a Frappacino

At your best, you are: fun loving, sweet, and modern

At your worst, you are: childish and over indulgent

You drink coffee when: you're craving something sweet

Your caffeine addiction level: low

They have other surveys, too. The Liberal and Conservative result was weird. It's American, so I came out looking like a communist. I'll post it later.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Turducken dreams...

Friday night we decided to make the Turducken for today, and invite some people over. I haven't heard a thing from these Docs and I need a little stress reliever, so socializing is good, right?

I look at the box. Easy, just thaw and cook for five hours at 350 F. They even have website, I take it out Saturday morning, start letting it thaw on the counter.

I google Turducken images, sites, I am immersed in side dishes, cooking methods, variations like Osturducken, and Chuckey, and a traditional West African wedding dish that involves a camel, stuffed with a cow, stuffed with a sheep, stuffed with yadda, get the idea. Bascially, I get completely screensucked & distracted

I fail to notice that the Turducken is still rock hard last night. DH and I put it in the fridge, thinking, well, you can't leave it out all night, right? This morning it's still frozen, and I freak and look up the instructions for cooking it from frozen. 8-10 hours at 25o F. Not enough time.

So we have put it into the oven for about 6 hours at 350 F and I'm hoping it will work. We're about 3 hours in at this point, and its at 115 F in the middle.

So why turducken dreams? Because I dreamed that I was pregnant last night. And had a baby, a live one, in some sort of completely unnatural pain free birth. And my DH and I were just hanging out with the baby, in the kitchen. Neighbours started to come over, and asked me how I was. But, I was fine, totally. I'm so over all my neurosis y'know? Easy....

Except that I woke up with a start in a cold sweat, because I realized that in my dream I was about to serve the baby to the neighbours on a platter. Just like Turducken.

You know, the turkey with several smaller birds in it's belly.

Damn, my therapist is gonna have a field day with this one...

Wish me luck, I have to go perform a c-section on a turducken this evening. And try not to lose my mind with all the neighbours watching....

Thursday, October 19, 2006


I've had that word running around my head for ages. So I thought I'd blog it. Try saying it with your tongue stuck out of your mouth.


I had a long day at a campaign office today. I'm helping out my candidate, from now on known as Dear Leadership Candidate, or DLC. He's not actually a Kim Jong-Il clone, it's just that there are so few women in the party that my cover would be blown in seconds if I specified which one, so DLC it is.

So I'm working on financial records, and reading the letters with the cheques, because there really are so few people who give to candidates, and yet some people are heartbreakingly sweet. Like the elderly man who really wanted to contribute, so he sent a cheque for $10, even though he couldn't spare it at all. There are also millionaires who write cheques for $5,000 like it's nothing, and for them it really is nothing.

The public thinks that only the millionaire gets heard and gets what he wants. Yet, in reality, the majority of politicians I've worked with thank the millionaire, listen politely and walk away. It's the old man who gave up his food budget they really listen too. They can't always help him right away or perfectly, but they really really care about his interests, because he's given something up.

So why does the public think that guys like my DLC won't listen to them? I like to say that if every Canadian gave one dollar a year to a politician and made one phone call or sent one email, the world would change. 30 million Canadians = $30 million annually, more than enough to run all the parties and the elections. (Yes, this equation applies to Americans too.)

The religious right is phoning, the lobbyists are phoning, the special interest groups are phoning, and of course, the conservative voters, & the NRA. And jaysus do they give money...The politicians I know would LOVE to turn down all those cheques and they would love to hear from average voters, you know liberals, small c conservatives, moms, dads---but they never call. They rarely send in $10 or even $1.

I hear from my neighbours that politicians don't listen. Well, I'll give you this, sometimes they are late to return phone calls or write back, sometimes they say stupid things, BUT they always look at their call sheets. And they always know who has sent money. So the next time you are wondering about something, like infertility treatment costs, or health care, or gun control, or schools, or just any ol' thing, CALL THEM, email them, tell them to read your blog.

Just say more than Bluurghhh----

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Size might matter?

I've been feeling mildly uncomfortable about something in the blogosphere lately. And I'm not sure if I'm handling it the right way. So let me know if you have any advice/assvice etc.

Basically, my thyroid problems mean I'm starving, STARVING hungry all the time. And my method of dealing with it is to eat, and eat, and eat some more. So I'm splitting out of my clothes.

And to read this you'd think I need to go on a diet, now. Maybe you'd think I weigh a lot, especially after all my pregnancies.

But I don't. I weighed 112 pounds six months ago, and now I weigh 130ish pounds. (I don't own a scale so I don't know exactly.) The only reason I'm talking about it, is because the weight is disease related, and therefore unusual, at least to me. My DH has said he thinks I look good, and finally have some curves. I know there were times 2-3 years ago where I looked way too skinny, and gulp, had to try to keep my weight UP.

Then, when I read various blogs, many of the women seem to describe themselves as overweight. I was taking this with a grain of salt because society seems to impose "perfect weight standards" on women. I didn't know if they really were overweight or if they see themselves that way in the mirror, and would look normal to me. In fact, sometimes they post the number of pounds they need to lose, and it seems like a lot sometimes.

So I try to be supportive, but I also feel like maybe I'm not part of some secret club. Because I can't really know what it's like to need to lose 100 pounds. I gained 60 pounds when I was pregnant each time, and lost it by breastfeeding and just doing the same things I'd always done. No exercise, no feel the burn, zip.

I've done yoga and Tai Chi to keep my flexibility and tried a little weight-lifting to stay off the osteoporosis I deal with from my premature ovarian failure. But really, I am inherently lazy, and it's damn hard to motivate yourself when even the Doctor admits you are doing well.

So how do I relate? Is it enough to just say I feel for them? Should I say nothing ever? Or should I hide my skinny ass? In real life, I've actually had a number of people assume that because I'm skinny my life must be perfect. I never know what to say to this...there are good things about my life, but it's not perfect.

Like.....I have two healthy living children, BUT they both have learning disabilities, and challenges. No, I didn't have to use IVF, but I needed fertility treatment to have one, and lost 3 other children along the way. I have a wonderful husband, but he has personal challenges too, and our marriage has been a rollercoaster from the start. My childhood started out very badly, but my adulthood is generally good now, after a lot of struggling.

Every life has ups and downs and it's not about ranking whose life is better or worse, in my mind. I do believe people have to take some responsibility for their own health, which is why I'm trying to do it for myself. And I wonder about some people who are depressed and overweight and who seem to not want to even try to feel better. I know the weight is related to their mood, and that a therapist or nutritionist could help them a lot, but am I even allowed to say that? I, the skinny person, as opposed to any other overweight or depressed person?

I've never been fat, but I've been depressed, and at times my nutrition has been a disaster and my sleep wake cycle has gotten messed up. And it's all connected. I want to be a helpful supportive friend, but how the hell do I do that?

Monday, October 16, 2006

Weekend Updates

After I posted on Friday, the amazing Dr.J. called. She is my GP and absolutely fabulous, understanding, smart, yadda, yadda. Because she has a young family she is working fewer office hours but still communicates with me by email & phone.

Which is awesome...and she had a good take on Dr.Evil as well. Dr. J. never gossips or denigrates other Doctors, which is wonderfully professional but can be hard to interpret sometimes. I've known her for years so I'm getting better at it, though. For example, she had a copy of the same report that Dr.Evil had. Dr.J. immediately told me that I had a toxic multinodular goiter, and that we should schedule an ultrasound with doppler to look at it closer, check for hot or cold nodules, etc. After that then we could discuss biopsies of any nodules. She also wanted me to get some more blood work.

Totally reasonable, thank goodness. She asked what Dr.Evil had said.

I told her that she had just called and told me there might be some nodules on my thyroid, but really nothing, maybe. And that she said the uptake report wasn't relevant. But I could get an ultrasound. Maybe a biopsy if I begged.

Total silence on the line.

I also shared that Dr.Evil has no plan, no follow through, and is disregarding the report because it doesn't correspond to the cheapie TSH test.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to find you another Dr., don't worry..."

Open mouth hitting floor, cause that really is the worst slam Dr.J. has ever made in my hearing.

So today I picked up the ultrasound requisition and blood tests, and got my bloods drawn and have an ultrasound scheduled today at 3:30. I have to put the kids in study hall to do it, but that's okay, considering...I certainly don't want to drag them there.

I had a second opinion appt. already set up for Nov. 1 with another endocrinologist, so maybe she can make a plan with me... and help me figure out why the tests are showing such strange and wild results. Like why my antibodies show Graves Disease, and the scan and uptake showed hyperthyroid with nodules, yet the TSH is up and down like a merry go round?

And somewhere in here, I'm trying to make Halloween costumes, keep the house together and book hotel reservations and transportation for the leadership convention.

Saturday, October 14, 2006

In keeping with yesterday's theme...

I'm thinking about taking the Canadian route to dealing with stress. Piere Berton has now passed away, (after a long and happy life, TG).

But, his favourite medicine to help deal with stress, weight loss, and general blah, was not the usual for an 80+ year old guy, scotch. No, he decided to use something else.

Happy Weekend!

Friday, October 13, 2006

Dr. Evil Finally Called

And it's not good. But it's not terrible, yet, I think.

My RAIU test came back showing hyperthyroid, but Dr. Evil (that's her new name) insists that it's impossible because the blood test for TSH showed normal TSH, T3 & T4. Except that I was on beta blockers very shortly before that. And emedicine and every other website I've checked all say that the blood test can be wrong if certain medications are taken at the same time. And I've been on some of those.

Plus, my scan showed a "mottled" result, most likely multiple nodules of some sort. And I have active antithyroglobulin antibodies, although she wouldn't share that result until I asked, because god forbid I know my own health results.

So, even though every other test shows clearly that something is wrong, she refuses to believe the results are real. Because, hey the $2.50 test must be right. We absolutely have to ignore the very expensive RAIU test and scan...

Her nibs would condescend to give me an ultrasound requisition and a blood test requisition to check on the giant nodules in my throat. And she even had the graciousness to agree to a biopsy, cause y'know, it's important to be all casual and stuff about CANCER.

I have to go get requisitions right now, and I'm desperate to find another Doctor who will give me a second opinion, and oh I don't know, maybe, gee, CARE about the clock ticking away on my health.

This isn't the worst moment of my life, (that was when my son died), but it's ranking right up there on the stress level.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Turducken, my love

You weren't expecting me to be in love, were you?

With Turducken, mmmmm?

And you thought I was joking about sticking my head up that turkey's butt? While I was there, I stuffed up veggies and pork sausage, a boneless chicken, and a boneless duck. In the turkey, really.


Okay, I just bought the Turducken, but it was the last one, and it was half price, and I've never ever seen one for sale except at the extortionate St.Lawrence Market, a lovely overpriced tourist trap, for sure...

So there is a Turducken in my freezer, two half price turkeys, and a rib roast. I'm feeling mmmeaty.

Just in time for my darling-way-too-skinny-older son to come back from his overnight trip to the outdoor education centre. I hate when he goes overnight, even though he is getting older. Like 10. So why can't he just live with me for ever and ever and not grow up? *sigh*

But my Turducken will never leave me. Nooo, it will stick to my thighs forever.

(And no the doctor didn't call, but she did get the report September freakin' 25th. Must be a state secret, right? Must.not.share.with.patient.)

So go along with me on the distraction thing, k? And say it with me, TUUURDUUUCKEN MMMMMM