Birthday week

Julius the Great, Emperor of the Universe, or at least of our house, is one year old now. He just had his birthday and well, is practically a grown up. Barely needs me anymore....ok, not really, but he is very very cute. And standing on his own, and almost walking but not quite. He grabs people's fingers, one in each hand, and then runs at top speed, in whatever direction he desires, and expects us to keep up with him. He has no fear of heights, or concept of stairs or steps, or which direction is up or down or level. He just GOES!!

Adorable but not really practical. I fear for the rest of his lovely forehead at this rate! He is terrified of loud noises and especially showers and the printer on the computer. I tried to take him in the shower and let him play with some bath toys at my feet one day and he screamed like he was going insane and we gave up on that plan. Anyway, he is also growing molars. Four at once. Cause hey, why do anything halfway, right? We have given him tempra round the clock and he is chewing and gnawing on frozen washcloths and freezies and such, but he really is suffering. Kills me to see it. I can't wait until it's over, and he feels less cranky and whiny.

Which is why I am so tired and barely blogging right now. I can manage twitter from my phone, but that's about it, and what with mercury retrograde and all, technology has been suffering greatly at our house. I am on my second blackberry this month and it still isn't working perfectly. Then my husband's phone broke, and then my nanny's phone bill was astronomical but it was all a mistake. The roof leaked again and fornicating raccoons took up residence. The power keeps going out and the new car broke down and carpenter ants invaded, and now I am finding broken punched in bits of drywall everywhere. So far, the dishwasher, the whippersnipper, the back gate, the bathtub drain, the shower and the baby's crib have broken again in May.

Really, it's all a bit freaky when things go haywire around here. So I've been busy!

Now, nobody is seriously ill or anything, and for that, I have to thank my lucky stars, do not misunderstand me. We have the money to fix it all, and it will get repaired--but umm, it's a lot to break at once, isn't it?

Actually, Mac is sick as we speak, fever of 103.5, poor baby. He is supposed to go to sleepover camp with his class tomorrow and likely will not go. I am sad for him feeling sick, but as you all know, hate sleepaway camp and secretly am kind of glad. Bad me.

Ok, someone is crying. Tylenol for them and wine for me.....where did I leave that brown paper bag......yawn.....

Temporary relief

I found a Doctor who was willing to renew my medication for six months, and perhaps longer this past week, so I'm okay for the moment. Whew! Now I just need to find a shrink who can do battle with my GP and/or my cardiologist.

I realized later that I left something hanging in the comments on the last post. Basically, the issue here is not the Canadian health care system. I'm free to go to any family doctor I want and they can refer me to any psychiatrist or specialist anywhere. The issue here is prejudice against mental illness and competence, a problem in every country, whether it's privately paid, or publicly paid. In Toronto, I have a lot of family doctors to choose from, and there are some specialists in Adult ADHD here. The issue is getting in to a Doctor who I like and respect and has some competence, while still dealing with this health mess prior to running out of the tiny amount of medication I had left.

You see, the last ADD specialist I had was a bit of a weirdo. Quite apart from all of the health and personal problems they inappropriately disclosed to me, this Doc personally insulted me several times. They were so strange in fact that I'm not going back there, no way. And although I can find a psychiatrist without much difficulty, I don't think I can find a specialist in Adult ADHD as easily, or very quickly. And finding one who isn't nuts themselves? Oy.....challenging to say the least.

As for finding a new family doctor? I'm so torn about this. I trusted Dr.J. so completely, so totally. She has been with me through everything, literally since my first pregnancy test all those years ago. She was there when my babies were born and when they died, and she has been there for me through every medical adventure in between. So what do I do now that I have discovered that deep down she holds the same prejudices towards people with ADHD as Joe Six Pack? I mean, I've always known she's an imperfect Doctor but in the end, she'd admit it and try to educate herself, which is better than most Docs. Except in this case.

Now I feel betrayed, and if I can't trust her then what on earth am I going to do? Any family doctor I go to will get a copy of my records from her so I'm pretty much screwed if I go to someone else, courtesy of the way she will write it up, and anyone new might be just as discriminatory.

I know how to breakup with a friend, and I still remember how to dump a boyfriend, but I really don't know how to breakup with my Doctor. I'm not sure I want to.

Got any bootstraps?

I've been leaving comments and tweets, etc. that try to describe the very bad thing has happened, and not really explaining anything, so I figure it's time to say it here.

Two problems:

First: to any of my recently acquired political followers....I am an emotional writer and I know most of you are not, in fact, let's cut the crap, members of political parties are not allowed to simultaneously have both careers and emotions or mental illness or anything but serious debates and personal lives filled with elegance and sunshine and puppies.

So please go away if this makes you uncomfortable. Come back some other day, k?

Second: after my comments on some blogs recently, about the futility of getting help from doctors with infertility or pregnancy loss...I know that it hurt some of my personal friends to read that. Because they really really want to believe that their doctors care if they get pregnant or if their babies live or die, and I was perhaps too blunt. I really do need to stop that, at least on other people's blogs. It kinds sucks all the hope out of the room. They can come to my blog to abandon all hope, right?

So again, if you need to believe that Doctors give a shit if we live or die, and that medicine is about helping people attain a quality of life, you should look away. Because this story really will suck every last ounce of hope out of the room.

The story is that for many years I have had a mild PSVT, which is a spontaneous super fast heartbeat, that comes on and then goes. It can be serious, like with Atrial Fibrillation but over the last 15 years of pregnancies and miscarriages, etc. I have had extensive tests to make sure that mine is the nice mild boring kind. Basically, about three times a year, my heart races anywhere from 120-170ish beats a minute, for about 2 to 3 minutes and that's it. If it lasts longer than that, I just have to do a Valsalva Maneuver which means I push down like I'm pushing out a baby or pushing out a poop, and it ends. (I always call it a vulva maneuver, hehe.) It just ends. And there is no residual heart damage, no funny beats, no nothing.

After a while I almost forgot about it, until someone asked me specifically about heart issues. And then nine years ago I saw the episode of ER where the student Doctor admits to having ADHD and tries to go off her meds and they showed what she was like. And I saw myself on the screen and realized that it was me. I went to a Doctor, had a battery of tests and after a full assessment, started taking ADHD medication.

And the universe shifted on it's axis.

As far as the PSVT I've done holter monitors and BP checks and echocardiograms and stress tests and for the last eight-nine years I've been on my ADD/ADHD meds while those tests were done. And not once did I ever have a high blood pressure or a funny test result. If anything, I was the healthiest person my cardiologist had in his practice. I actually asked him why bother coming back, but he said hey, every couple of years, just visit and we're done. I do have the clotting issues that caused my miscarriages but my cardiologist doesn't think they are linked to heart issues, and I have none of the other risk factors like stiff arteries, etc that might mean I have a potential cardiac issue. So everything was fine.

Until I went to Vancouver and partied for 4 days at the convention. No sleep, bad food, drinking lots, Starbucks by the bucketful, and lots of stress due to events and then trying to get my breastmilk back to Toronto on the plane even though the Canadian government (CATSA) has illogically decided that breastmilk is a dangerous substance and breastpumps are bombs. Regular readers here know that any encounter with government makes me so anxious I want to vomit, so you can just imagine how bad it would be if I was forced to have an argument with a security guard. I mean adrenaline city here people. The Americans let breastfeeding moms bring pumps and frozen breastmilk without babies on their planes, and so does every other country and airline in the world. They know that moms need to keep up milk production and that forcibly dumping milk is ridiculous. Except for Canada....so I had stress.

So much stress that I had an SVT on the way home, and the valsalva thing didn't work, mostly because I wasn't pushing very hard. (Grunting like that in front of others is embarassing, and hard to do quietly on a crowded plane, ok?)

There was big drama blah blah blah and finally some medical personnel got me to push hard enough to stop it, and it was over and I felt fine. Even the doctor who saw me afterwards said it was ok, no issues, no problems.

The big problem happened later when I saw my family doctor, Dr.J., who abruptly decided that this means I can no longer take my ADHD medication. Even though I wasn't on any of the medication on Sunday and in fact, had this SVT happen when I had no medication at all. She will not renew my medication because she is worried about her liability and wants another doctor to spend months rerunning all these stupid cardiac tests and reassess everything, and possibly end my entire prescription forever. (Note: she does not think it's dangerous, it's all about getting sued. Plus she has never liked me being on any medication and this is the perfect excuse for her.) She also thinks it's no big deal to go without psychiatric medication for me or anyone else except the most severe cases and that I should learn some coping strategies.

Coping strategies??

That's right Doc, because a major biochemical imbalance of the brain can be dealt with by coping. In fact, I hear that all the mentally ill are just a bunch of fakers and drug addicts and lazy people, right? I'm such a slacker....if I just pulled myself up by my bootstraps, I'd be fine, right?

Sigh.

I have been in tears ever since, trying to figure out how much medication I have left and being terrified of what will happen when it runs out. I've been trying to find another doctor and possibly a specialist to do battle with them and convince them that ADHD is real. Still freaking wondering if I can I parcel my last meds out carefully, how many social events do I have? How will I appear in public? What will I do when I get lost, get into car accidents, get speeding tickets, lose my purse, lose my phone, lose my way, am late for every single appointment, school pickup, forget to pay bills, and most of all tell people off.

Off my medication, I am the master of the vicious retort, the nasty awful comment that hurts and tears down others. On my medication, I might think it, but I keep my mouth shut. Medical people call it inappropiate verbal impulsivity. I call it Foot in Mouth at it's most benign, and terrible bitch at it's worst. Adderall works perfectly for this symptom for me. Nothing else does, and I've tried them all, trust me. Without it I have no spatial awareness and no social perceptions. I truly cannot read a room or the people in it. I fall over things, stumble around like a drunk even when I'm sober, injure myself, choke on food, (Heimlichs are painful, didja know?), and just generally am too loud and act like an ass. Off my medication, I have failed every academic test I've ever taken, and screwed up every job for pay I've ever done.

And jobs I don't get paid for? Like being a Mom? I suck at it....I forget to make meals and get kids to activites and school and lose notes and lose track of papers and just generally feel so angry and frustrated with myself for endlessly failing it all, that frankly, I'm scared of how bad a parent I'll be off the medication. I lose my patience, and yell at my kids like a shrew instead of calmly just making them do what they should do. As a wife, I embarass my husband in public by saying and doing ridiculous things and I become a burden on him, not a partner. When I was pregnant and breastfeeding he kind of blamed it on my hormones, but after a while, that excuse got pretty weak. It's not fair to him or to our lives to suddenly incapacitate me because a doctor doesn't think my disease exists.

And before you say it---I know that there are people with ADHD who function without medication. Well, every illness has degrees and mine is severe. And frankly, I do question how well people function without medication. They make a big public thing about it and in the end just make it harder for people who do need meds because they make it look like we're the weak ones and they just managed find the bootstraps and all of us fuckups could just get it together, we'd be fine too. I sincerely wish I could find someone who would publicly stand up and say that they can't function without medication and how awesome and wonderful it is so the rest of us wouldn't feel so inadequate.

This diagnosis explained my entire life, and since I started medication my life has changed so completely, that as a consequence, no one believes that I could really be that bad off meds, because it's been so long since they saw me such a mess. When I was pregnant and off medication, before Motherisk said it was okay to take it, I just hid in my house and spoke to nobody. (And, yeah, I made some awful comments on blogs by accident then until I stopped because I saw that I was a mess.) I'm worried that I will now screw up even more and make ridiculous comments and hurt the very people I care about the most, all the bloggers I read, who have been so wonderful to me, and who love me. I would die before I would hurt you, but I don't know how I can blog and comment and not hurt you all if I'm off my meds. If this forces me into retirement and then I can't get any support, then what the hell will I do?

I have begged my doctor at two different appointments this past week, and cried and tried to explain what this means, but she really doesn't understand. At this point, without meds, I cannot go back to school and try and do my graduate degree, and I cannot work because I'll just get fired. I can't participate in the Liberal Party because I will inevitably fuck up and wreck everything and I'd rather they think I just disappeared than permanently ruin my public reputation. (Yes, there are dozens and dozens of people in the party with mental issues who may or may not take their meds---and trust me, there is an obvious reason so many of them have political problems. It's all I can do not to urge them to get help...) My husband has enough stress what with his brother's mental illness and his business and he can't take over everything. It's one thing to say that a nanny can do the laundry and make sure the kids get fed, but as wonderful as ours is, she can't be their mother, and frankly, I want to do that. After all this work to get live kids I want to be the one to enjoy them and see them and talk to them and be the one to comfort them. I don't want to be the blob in the corner who lives in her own little world and stares at the wall.

Really that's what this comes down to. I really didn't like the person I used to be before medication. I like the new person I have become a lot more and as I accomplish more and succeed at things I like myself even better. I finally have my family complete and I could have a career and not screw it up, and maybe just maybe actually be a success in life instead of the mess I have always been.

I think that is also why I am most angry and offended at this Doctor. I am grown adult with an ability to understand the medical issues and weight the risk/reward ratio. I know what an SVT is, (a big fat nothing) and I know how to handle it. I also know that I have had these SVTs dozens of times since I was a little kid and I sure as hell wasn't on ADHD meds then. But whose body is it? Don't I deserve to make the final decision? If I, a grown woman, decide to refuse medical treatment for a physical ailment like cancer, it's legal in Canada, and then I'm the one facing the consequences. Same for mental illness. There is a huge amount of literature on a patient's right to refuse medication. Well, why the hell doesn't it work the other way? Can't I make sure I GET treatment for an illness I have been proven to have? If I have a Charter Right to security of person, then doesn't that imply that I have the right to get medication for mental illness and not just to refuse it? And why are mental issues treated so differently from physical issues? Why is mental quality of life not as important as physical? Why is the medical profession so invested in creating physically healthy patients who are forced to endure foggy brains and vegetative-like states? To me, that isn't the quality of life I want for myself. I have a right to live my life the way I want to, as an intelligent calm rational person.

I have a right to sanity.

I'm here, just blocked

I'm not disappeared totally, just blocked on something big I need to write about. This week I have been hysterical and upset and freaking out and calmer and angry then strategizing. Sort of in that order.

Doctors suck, life sucks, and then----you just decide to forget about everything.

Political buddies--friends I met in Vancouver? It was lovely lovely wonderful and awesome meeting you, but FYI, this is more of a personal blog, and although I do write about politics sometimes, you might not find what you are looking for.

Oh, and Manuela and I did not end up meeting, darn. She is doing well, single, and enjoying her life in BC. (Psst, she is on Facebook if you ever want to say hi!)

My pumped breastmilk made it back, in my checked luggage, although it did get squished, and I lost about 1/3 of the bags to bursting or spoiling. Made me cry. All that work, down the drain. I still fail to understand why Stephen Harper is terrified of my breasts? They really aren't that scary dude! Even the Americans aren't scared of pumped breastmilk and Medela breastpumps. In fact, in every country around the world, they are just fine with women bringing breastmilk back after being separated from their babies. Meanwhile CATSA scanned me like I was a terrorist and ignored my letter from the breastfeeding clinic stating it was a real medical device.

Boobheads.

More Constitutional blahblah

Spending a lot of time on twitter these days....it's just easier to do off of the blackberry, especially because wireless costs a gazillion dollars a day here. Starving imminent, if you ever want to go on a radical diet, go to a Liberal convention.

Feeling better this morning, but still quite unhappy. I think I also miss my kids and especially the baby so likely that's causing me to be more emotional! Sigh....plus pumping sucks when you already have low supply and then have a machine set to low power.....just waiting for CATSA to tell me the machine is a bomb again and that my frozen breastmilk is a biohazard. Fucking morons....

I'm meeting a lot of lovely wonderful people these days, and old friends who are fun to hang with, so I'm just going to focus on that, K?

Also, I met Tara from Run for my money, and her supercute baby Ruby! And later Manuela from the former Thin Pink Line blog and I will be hanging out and I will be sure to update you on that.

Take care peeps, back to twittering!

Such an odd convention

I'm kinda out and kinda in and hell I've met a lot of nice people so far....I've actually met in person a whole bunch of Liberal bloggers and they are great!

So far there are lots of fun and great things happening and I'm glad I came for that reason.

Only problem is that I've had a weird issue come up with a friend. And because my usual style is to blog like I'm bleeding all over the page, I really really want to talk about it. Just open up a vein and spill every emotion, y'know? But I can't.

I can't cry or look sad or talk about it at all.

Off to eat and have a few drinks.....sigh.....

Vancouver sans kids

I am off to the Liberal convention on Thursday morning....without the baby. Which may kill me. I have to pick up a pump tomorrow and then cart it all over the damn place. I am so torn about this right now. I want to be able to travel without having to fight him and wrestle him on the flight, and the time change will mess him up----

But I will miss him sooooo much!!!

Do you know that I haven't travelled anywhere alone since the last Liberal Leadership Convention? Or really bought any decent new clothes since then? (Maternity doesn't count or that pair of shorts for Mexico!) So tomorrow I have to pick up a few clothing items, get my bangs cut, pack, pick up prescriptions, and groceries, leave a giant list on how to take care of Julius and the boys......and of course, go to the bank.

Oh, btw, relax about the pandemic shit please. I just left this comment on Cecily's blog, may as well repeat it here.

"North Americans, that is US and Canada, are for some reason not getting it very badly, when they are infected, and the best science up here says it's because we have mostly all either had the flu before or the shots and so we have some immunity.
But on behalf of Sarsville...really it's no big fucking deal compared to the other stuff that kills us in the Western World. Everyone panicked here, and it actually was hard to get if you weren't a hospital worker who was caring for the original patients. Meanwhile, every one had heart attacks panicking over it and the economy was a mess.
Every year thousands of people die from C. Difficile, and MRSA and car accidents, and drug overdoses, and alcoholism, and hospital mistakes, and violence in the home. All preventable, btw, if we spent half as much attention and money on them as we do on ridiculous boogeymen like swine flu. I don't see everyone panicking over those things. Just wash your hands and relax."

I mean that. Take a chill pill everyone.

So, I will be blogging and twittering and stuff while I am there, but who the hell knows what I'll be talking about! Everyone else will be very very serious, but I will likely yip about the food and the clothes and who is throwing up in the corner. This might turn into the Liberal Party version of Perez Hilton if I really get in a mood. Woot!

Off to bed now.....

For Red Canuck

Red Tory seems to have beaten me to it, but so what, this needs to be repeated many many times, so please link to this, and tweet and retweet it and do whatever needs to be done to spread the word.

Our friend, and member of Liblogs, Red Canuck, is dying of terminal cancer. He had fought it before and beat it, but it has come back and he has posted a farewell. One of the things he asked his readers to do in his goodbye post, is to register as a bone marrow donor with Canadian Blood Services.

You can go here to One Match and register if you are Canadian, or here to register if you are American. This is where you can find some international registries.

Red Canuck, for those of you who didn't read him, is from Vancouver. He's kind and witty and by the way a Doctor as well. He managed to skewer his opponents and make us all laugh along the way, so I this is kind of fitting.

For those of you who medically don't qualify for donations....give money. Did you know that the Canadian Health Care System does not cover all the costs of testing and recruiting donors? Transplants are free and donors and recipients pay nothing, but other costs incurred in maintaining the list and running Canadian Blood Services must be covered by private donations. Something I think should change. A publicly funded cord blood bank with stem cells for use by everyone young and old wouldn't be too shabby either. (Yes, this paragraph is intended to be a big ol' hint to political types reading it, could you guess? Not everyone has a spare $1200 bucks to freeze and store cord blood.)

Canadian Blood Services by the way is the national organization that provided the blood that saved my life after my crash c-section and Julius' birth. I've been waiting until after I finish breastfeeding to repay them a few pints. I figure I owe them, right?

So after I register as a marrow donor, I'm going to start figuring when I can go and split open a vein. In the meantime, if any of you would like to give a pint or two, or register as a bone marrow donor, it would really warm the cockles of my heart, and the heart of a very nice guy and his family.

Thanks! ;)

Hey God, It's me Aurelia

Dear God,

I am not blogging very much right now God, because I haven't got anything even remotely cheerful or positive or happy to say.

I actually kind of wish it was just my perception of life or just my mood because then I could do something to fix it, but frankly I can't this time.

My kids are all miserable, and my husbands family is insane, as is mine. From the outside, it looks good. We have money and a good business, even in this economy, and three live healthy lovely kids.

But--you know God that things aren't always as they seem. Soooo, I have a request?

Could you help my brother in law get an accurate diagnosis? Get him back in the hospital, off of ALL the psychiatric drugs he is on, and maybe, just maybe a Doctor who has read a medical textbook or knows something, could get involved? And help him.

And then maybe my husband would feel less angry and stressed and freaked out. Maybe we all would not be fighting tooth and nail about him all the time.

And yeah, there is more---could you help my older son Kaz as he goes through puberty? He's friggin killing the whole family. Tantrums like a three year old, except he's almost 13. I know it will get better when he turns 18, but right now--Oh Lord, I just don't understand this stage at all.

Give me patience.

Give me strength.

Or at least give me a chance to take a time out and a valium when I have none of the first two left.

I'll write more when I don't sound like such an ungrateful whiny bitch, ok?

hey here we go again

Family hell is getting better this week. I just have to keep thinking about not doing anything, and how easy it is to just say no when someone proposes to invite people over.

Unless they want to come over for a non-judgey visit with dirt on the floor, pizza and beer. Sigh....

Planning Mac's birthday party, and dealing with various crises, I realized that I have not mentioned my current preoccupation. You know how I have been on domperidone, and how I have been trying to keep up with breastfeeding because I had breastfed the other two for at least fifteen months, and darned if I couldn't try just as hard for Julius?

Well, it's getting harder. I'm not sure what the hell is going on with my crap ass hormones this time, but I can't seem to make as much milk and at night especially, a small child is noticing. And keeps trying to get more milk, and crying. So I have doubled my dose of domperidone and I'm doing what I can.....but if this isn't the most bizarre thing on earth because I have never had this problem before!

I've always had loads of milk. Bad latches, thrush, mastitis, pumping problems, blisters, nursing strikes, lumps, you name it, I've battled through it. But supply never was a problem. I never had to even take domperidone, not when I was on the pill after Kaz was born, not when I went away for five days without Mac, nothing.

I know he's 10 and half months and really, we could do a little formula and it wouldn't be a big whoop, but that assumes it would be my decision to use it. This would NOT be my choice, this is because of my body failing me once again. And I can't figure out why?

I just don't get it, it's like this insane thing where just when I think that infertility is behind me and my problems are over, they come back to bite me on the ass again. Osteoporosis, POF, thyroid, and now breastfeeding issues, possibly caused by Sheehan's and placental abruption and holy shit won't that be a lovely lifelong issue to have? Fuck, fuck fuck....If one more person suggests to me that infertility is all about having babies and that it's no big deal and we can just move on after we finish having our kids or decide not to keep trying....I will scream. This, btw, is just one of the many reasons I always say that adoption is not a cure for infertility. They are completely and utterly separate issues. Something too many Doctors forget.

None of us ever stops being an infertile, do we? It's a disease I will always have whether I have zero living children or one or three or twelve.

Fuck.

FML all the time

I can't write a proper post to explain all of it, because my brain is so fucked up, but basically you need to know that I have just had a week from hell. And yes, I know it could be worse, but that really isn't helpful when life sucks and you are in a pit, ok?

Comments are not working properly still. Some people can comment, some can't....don't know why, I've tweaked and checked, and bleh...Blogger is sucking big time. Email me and I'll post your comment if you can't.

So on Twitter I mentioned that I went to the ER Sunday morning. The very tippy baby fell into the computer desk and slashed his head open and we missed Mass and he got a 2 cm cut that had to be glued together and will scar for his whole life. And all because I can't get him antibiotics for his ear infection, his red, bulging, fluid filled ears that magically look just a bit better as soon as a Doctor's office is in sight. These days it would be easier to get crack than antibiotics y'know....cause head injuries are no big whoop but don't you dare treat an infection! If any of you in the Toronto area know where to find these mythical Doctors who give out antibiotics like Pez, drop me a line. I'm desperate and do anything at this point.

Three days before that my husband and his family blew up in a crazy way that I can't detail here but OMG, did you ever wish you could force seven very nice but dysfunctional people into family therapy? Basically, there is this huge family secret that everyone knows but no one talks about, mostly cause it's old news and no big whoop. And the person the secret involves thought no one knew at all and has a heart attack thinking about the subject. Well, this weekend someone dared to bring it up, and anxiety attacks were held by all.

But nobody can talk about it because it's a big secret, so really denial is in charge again, and NOTHING IS GOING ON. Got that? Now pass the ativan sweetie.

Next, on Saturday Mac broke the rules and got into my curio cabinet and gave Julius one of my antique toys, a wooden babushka doll, and the nanny kept letting him play with it because she didn't know what it was, and they left it on the floor---and it got stepped on and crushed into too many pieces to fix. It was over 50 years old, I had it since I was 5 when a neighbour gave it to me. It was handmade in Russia and now it is garbage. *weeps*

Then Sunday, after we got back from the ER, I spent hours trying to get the house in shape and cleaned up and then my husband picked up the order from the caterer and there was not enough food, or so it looked, so he went back and got more, and spent loads of money---but we didn't need the extra food after all because everyone was too busy arguing to eat.

We did need at least one person to STFU and not tell me that it was all our fault that Julius fell and whacked his head because we are "forcing" him to walk to early, which as you know will result him being stupid. Supposedly, the longer they crawl, the smarter they are. Gee, so happy that I was told that....and here I thought it was critical to berate him mercilessly until he walked. Cause you know, that's what I do with my kids, right?

And then today, my nanny tried to "help", and took the tablecloth out of the drycleaning bag and washed and dried my new linen one in the washing machine after hand scrubbing it. The red wine stain is now permanent and it has shrank considerably. Sigh....I get that she doesn't know about a lot of modern appliances and things, but I have now explained dry cleaning like a dozen damn times and she still thinks it's just a rich Canadian thing and she could do it better if Iet her. My head almost exploded; shit....that was an expensive disaster. On that previous post, btw, I want to make something clear. My nanny gets paid well, and yes, I do expect laundry and cleaning to be done during naptimes. Julius sleeps 3 hours a day. After she takes a lunch break, it's not okay with me for her to sit and watch TV while I pay her, and I was crystal clear about what I expected when I hired her. So yes, she does lots of things that are unconventional, like taking in the recycling bins and helping me garden. (We tag team, I work on flower beds while she holds the baby and she rakes leaves, etc. while I breastfeed or get him to nap.) And so what? In exchange, I have taught her about subways and vacuums and microwaves and baby car seats and what city snowplow/melters are (she thought they were tanks!) and all about cable TV/stereos and computer programs and how to handmake baby food and roast a chicken and how to call her local politician and what to order at Starbucks and Tim Hortons and lots of things she needs to know to be a real Canadian. I'm trying to get her to go to driving lessons, and she goes to ESL class now.

Now if she could just ask before helping.....or if I could just have a week that didn't suck donkey balls.

Thank God there are no more holidays coming up, I'm not sure how much more joy and family togetherness I could take.

blogging a little, maybe a lot, maybe too much

Still tired as hell and not sure why. I think when I returned I got a cold or something? Or maybe it's because the baby is up all the time. Off to a walk-in clinic and maybe I'll feel better after he feels better.

There are a dozen things I'd like to blog about, especially the Nanny Series the Star is running right now. I'm glad the province is going to legislate the agencies--but that really won't solve the problems inherent in the system. I mean, for pete's sake, why are nannies forced to live with the employers? Why isn't it a choice? And why does it take two friggin' years to sponsor a nanny you've never met? What if she arrives and doesn't like you, or you don't like her? And it takes months to get a permit when a nanny does want to change jobs. Why? It takes one hour to fill out all the forms and two years for a civil servant to read? WTF? And for infertile women like me, who have gone through multiple losses, asking me to sponsor a nanny ages before I even get pregnant or have a live baby is not just stupid, it's cruel. (Same for parents who are trying to adopt or foster, btw.) What was I supposed to do, apply every month for a nanny and when I get my period or have another miscarriage I call up and cancel? And then apply again the next day? Over and over and over again every month for years? At nine months I still needed therapy to buy a pack of diapers, never mind hire a nanny....I remember contemplating a nanny, and thank God we were able to find someone who I didn't have to sponsor. After that high-risk delivery I was incapable of taking care of the baby alone and I needed a caregiver for myself, not just a baby nurse.

What do people do who experience sudden disability or have a stroke or need eldercare or lose a daycare spot do because their daycare shuts down? Quit their jobs? I guess the federal government thinks they should be screwed, huh?

Here's an idea. Let the nannies apply to Immigration as certified caregivers, and arrive in whatever numbers that arrive. We know that all of them will be hired instantly because we have such a huge need due for eldercare and childcare. HRDC has documented it. Then have employers apply to immigration as certified employers and let them hire whoever they want, whenever they want. They just let the government know when they get matched up and go from there. And no one has to live with anyone if they don't want to. Simple.

Next question: Why is it that after a nanny has worked for two years as a live-in caregiver, and should be automatically eligible for citizenship, then why does it take another two years to get landed immigrant status? And cost $900? They have already passed security and health checks, etc. the first time they entered. They fulfilled all their obligations, for fuck's sake. It should be instant. Fix all that slow as molasses bureaucratic mess, and you fix all the issues. As for the media coverage, some of the objections that have come up in the comments of the articles on the Star are pretty stupid as side issues go. There are almost no Canadians born here* willing to work as nannies, regardless of how much you offer to pay, so no, I really wish all the anti-immigrant right wing nutbars would STFU about how we should be keeping jobs at home. Face it, white Canadians like me are lazy and overprivileged and won't work as caregivers. I'm just willing to admit it. ;) HRDC is a lot more polite about it, but who is kidding who people? If we were willing to change diapers for a living, then there would be applicants for jobs. As it is, there are none. The other strange thing is the comments from people who don't like anyone hiring nannies, white or foreign at all, because they think that anyone with a nanny is a Forest Hill snob. Umm, not quite. I remember thinking that and feeling a bit odd about it until I got used to the idea, but it really can be a good solution for some people. In Canada, excepting Quebec, daycare spots are as scarce as hen's teeth and if you can get one, it's incredibly expensive for anyone with more than one child. Plus, schlepping more than one kid to a daycare is difficult at best. In the rain or the snow? In a rural area or for anyone with a long commute? On a day when the kid is sick and you pray that the damn daycare won't turn you away? And some of us have no relatives, or relatives that are too old and disabled to look after young kids, or some of us have moms who are young enough to still have jobs and work for a living and can't work for free and watch our kids.

Lots of families use nannies to help with big families. Some have money, lots don't. Some have made a philosophical choice, some have medically fragile children who cannot go to daycare. Some have extended family like an older relative who needs care in the same house as young children.

It's just life--now if only the government would help people instead of screwing up the system so much. Sigh....

As you can see from this long extended rant, I need to get some more professional intellectual stimulation. I wasn't going to write, and then I did. I am behind on posting and commenting and reading. Not good. I keep writing and rewriting this post, and my brain has lots to get out. But writing in the house is hard because the baby is taking up my attention. Or my older son wants to know what a "period" is and I had to turn red while explaining. Or Mac wants to show me his latest Bionicle creation. And I am running my ass off because I have to run this house on my own while my husband goes off and has brilliant conversations with intelligent people and I am stuck---here. Blogging is great, but I need to get out of this house, and speak to real people in person.

I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I need something else. Maybe someone can hire me to fix the government, hmmm? Unlikely. They like it being a big goddamn disaster.


*with the exception of one commenter on my blog, and one woman I've met personally, I've only met foreign born nannies in 13 years of parenting, really.

All Clear--and now for the rest of my life

The results of Mr.C's CT scan came back all clear, and quite awesome. Totally, utterly completely clear in fact. The pulmonologist now subscribes to my theory of the drippy bits of goo from someone's danish screwing up the x-ray film. They had the results last Tuesday, and left a message on the home answering machine, but of course, the dingbat receptionist said they did NOT have the results when he called on his cellphone Wednesday and said, hey, as soon as you know the results, can you call my CELLPHONE right away because we are away and don't want to be in suspense for our entire vacation.

He found out late yesterday afternoon, and yes, we did spend the entire vacation in suspense!

Sigh....the things I would change if I was in charge of the universe....

Anyway, the vacation was lovely, except for how much I missed you all because of the problems with getting on the internet. I could do it on the iPod touch, but only the basics, like checking emails, and attempting to get some updates here and there on Facebook, etc. and I wanted to be outside instead of inside at the internet cafe. As you know from my cottage vacation dial-up debacles, in my mind, a vacation just isn't a vacation if you have to disconnect from all of your friends! I'm hoping that by the time that I go away again, Rogers will have amended their incredibly fucked up non-existent international data plans for phones and blackberries. It's kind of embarassing when you go places and discover that the poorest citizens in your vacation country have better cellphone plans than you do.

Interesting things about the Mayan Riviera? They have what I swear is the largest Walmart in the history of Walmarts. With every kind and brand of baby item in the known universe. I really did not have to bring anything down except for things for the plane, and to be honest, I kind of would love it if they had a rental place for that kind of stuff when travelling! There is a rental place in Puerto Vallarta, but not one in Cancun and area...Good news is that we were able to get lots of baby food and he liked the buffet stuff as well so he had lots of finger food in between swims and stroller rides.

All in all, it was a great time. Mr.C. and Kaz got to go scuba diving and I got to sit and sun myself while the baby was at the Babyclub. (That almost didn't happen--eeek, thank god Jackie got it in writing for me that they would take him at his age!) Mac loved the kid's club and once he got into it and started hanging out, he pretty much refused to leave.

I have more to say, but once again, I am behind the eight ball. Dinner, hockey, tutors, bill-paying, and figuring out why Kaz's report card is so horrendous. He got a B- in religion! The bird course of the century for pete's sake. All he had to do was memorize the sacraments and other basic stuff. I know he is bored, and hates even paying attention to the easy stuff, but flunking out because you like to doodle on the side of the page is not the answer.

I have to get him a little more engaged with the school. Or make the school do something less brain-deadening with him....

Vacation suspense

Thank you thank you thank you for all your good stories and wishes and prayers. They really do help!

Mr.C. had his CT scan and because the tech was completely obscure....we know nothing. We leave Sunday and we'll have to get our news when we get back.

Now my theory, based on my many medical adventures is that they don't let you leave if they see something really bad. I know that isn't always true, but for me it generally is. Anytime they have let me leave and something was wrong, they have made it crystal clear that something is wrong and sent me to see a Doctor ASAP.

And nothing like that happened to him. The radiologist was there, and didn't even ask for some extra views or shots. They even let him leave early! Which tells me that either it's the tiniest teeniest thing on earth, or it WAS a drip of icing from a pastry on the X-ray.

And that's the story I'm sticking with. Sadly, my husband is not so convinced and keeps making morbid jokes about lung cancer and dying young, etc....I think he is going to have a tough time having fun this week.

My big hope is that the radiologist clears the report fast and his Doctor calls and gives him good news by cellphone Monday morning. (Yes, we will have blackberries and an iPod touch and I will be checking email and twitter and Facebook sporadically, he needs to stay plugged in for his brother and work, and I just love being on the net!)

Can I tell you all a secret? You know I don't swim well, and so you can guess that I won't be in the ocean. Well, this will be very different than a cottage because someone else will be doing laundry and cooking and dealing with dirty towels so there's that. But I'm not really a fan of lying down and doing nothing either. I last about a half hour on a beach chair and then I get twitchy to go see a show or go on a tour bus or go shopping or learn all about some ancient city nearby. Or just run up and start talking to random strangers!

Mr.C. meanwhile does not want to move from the beach---ever. He might go to the sports bar for March Madness, but he doesn't want to do anything. Hmmm

What about all of you? Are you like chillin' and relaxing types or more like me, activity types?

Help

Not sure what to do, or what to think here, any and all assvice and or reassurance is welcome.

My husband recently went for a new sleep study for his sleep apnea, so he could get a new CPAP machine to replace his old one. The CPAP has been a miracle for us and really stops his horrendously loud snoring and helps him get a good solid sleep. ( And me too let's be honest...)

Well, he needed a series of x-rays for it along with the other tests. And they found something in the x-rays.

A spot on his lung. 1 cm square.

And what with his history as a smoker for over 20 years, I'm kind of freaking out. (He started when he was 12, like most kids in Quebec at the time, it was just the way. He finally quit several years ago after many attempts. Hardest thing he has ever done, poor man.)

He is going for a CT scan tomorrow,* because it might be something else like scar tissue from an old infection, or some weird thing. Thing is, we won't get results until we get back from vacation, unless they see some bizarre thing on the CT and make him stay there, but I doubt that. Anything bigger they would have found on the x-rays.

But still losing my mind here. Vomiting with fear in fact. And everything I've found on the web, involves the horrible norm, a person who can't breathe well, gets an x-ray, and discovers advanced incurable lung cancer. Meanwhile, my husband is the rare exception, the person who gets a routine x-ray and discovers something.

So if any of you know of any good stories about lung cancer survival I really need to hear them. I already have found zillions of sad stories, but not many good ones.

If you know nothing good, then just do me a favor and pray that the fucking x-ray spot was a spot on someone's glasses, or a drip of jam from a danish, K?

If you smoke, quit. If you have already quit, get annual lung x-rays.
Did you know that no one had ever heard of lung cancer prior to smoking? No joke...there are no recorded cases of lung cancer in the history of medicine until smoking began.

About to become the world's most vicious anti-smoking campaigner btw.....something about three small children who might grow up without their father is kind of motivating me.

CT is at 3:30 Friday.

*Funny story: Mr.C. assumes he needs to go to Buffalo and pay for his CT/MRI and guess what? Nope, once again, he gets it right away for free, cause he has a serious medical need. They would have done them both sooner, but we're away next week, drinking, and living in denial.....

Obsessions

I have become addicted to TripAdvisor and all the unofficial websites for my resort, and every baby travel website out there. Plus the airline and government websites and things like Seatguru that analyzes exactly which seats are good and bad and in between.

Seriously, OCD me has googled until her hands are broken. I found almost all of the sites on the entire internet. Am a control freak my peeps.

Wee Travel Baby Equipment across Canada & her blog Wee Travel - also has links for many other cities all around the world for renting baby equipment at resorts or business trips or when seeing family.

Travels with Baby is a great blog by a lovely mom who has also written a book, with all her amazing travel tips. Lots of links there to lots of resources.

Family of Five Vacations - seriously driving me nuts that anyone who isn't Mom, Dad, and 2 kids over 5 and under 12 is pretty much SOL for vacations, and this site has an entire list of vacation destinations that cater to large families and groups that don't fit the traditional mold. They also have a list of places that have baby clubs and kids clubs and the ages they cater to. Parents of multiples and blended families take note! Someday you will have money again and want to travel somewhere and this site could help!

The Travel Stop - great Toronto store for things for your trip.

These dumb rules about liquids are making me crazy, I must admit. I have a friend who works in a rather shall-we-say "secure type" area, and he has repeatedly laughed his ass off at this set of rules. All of the really threatening people are suicide bombers---so even if we all got onto planes naked and carrying not one thing and starved and dehydrated ourselves---we'd still be at risk from the guys who would just swallow a timer and implants made of Semtex and rub their bits together.

The key to preventing terrorism on planes is the same as any crime prevention. We need to watch out for each other and take care of each other and get to know our neighbors, whether on a plane or a street or a park. We need to be brave enough to get involved and tell someone when we see something suspicious and we sure as hell can't just leave it all up to the government and pretend it's all about whether or not we accidentally put a 4 ounce bottle in our carry-on as opposed to a 3.4 ounce.

Serious eyerolling here---we drive boring ol' people like me up a wall with this, but we still to this day have never secured the rear entrances of airports properly. I can't wear a decent nursing bra because of the metal detectors, but anyone with a pulse can wander onto a loading dock after jumping a fence near the 401.

Why yes, my government is run by a bunch of morons, did you assume otherwise?

Anyway, I have bought all of my mandatory teeny bottles of stuff and am just organizing medication lists and baby supplies, and I will be a good little Canadian and submit to the mandatory virtual colonoscopy aka security inspection all of the law-abiding citizens have to endure.....but I will still insist that it is stupid as shit!

Funny thing about the baby supplies. I never really thought about all the stuff I'd have to bring besides the car seat, but it turns out that I am going to have to do a WalMart run when I arrive. Baby food is not sold or provided at the resort of course, and shipping it involves potential breakage and customs thingies and weight overloads. They have Gerber and other major brands so I'm hoping it will all work out. Diapers are expensive at the resort, so either I bring those and wipes and a bunch of other things, or just pray and hope I can fit it all in. Our Pack and Play weighs 3000 pounds so I'm thinking about buying or renting a lighter one like the new Phil and Ted's portable foldable 8 pounder. (Too expensive for a new one I will rarely use, am thinking about Craigslist?) My very lovely sweet friend loaned me her Quinny Zapp travel stroller; which also happens to work well on beach sand and yet fold tiny! I love my bugaboo but the risk of it being crushed by a stupid airline accident, i-yi-yi. No.

I am busy buying the kids clothes that fit and shoes and I've scheduled a hair cut and color. I'm going for a wax and manicure/pedicure this week. I bought some new lightweight luggage, enough for all of us to be able to pack! I even got another friend to loan me her old iPod Touch so I can surf without risking a $1000 bill from stupid Rogers for international data roaming or risking my laptop getting stolen.

I just haven't bought myself any clothes. No bathing suits. I have some old shorts and tops and things that fit. But except for sandals & water shoes, nothing so far. Mostly because I haven't lost as much weight as I'd like. And what I have lost, hasn't come off of my stomach. My face and back and legs and arms are skinnier, but I think that the slacker muscles are not going to suddenly tighten up prior to my trip. I am out of proportion, you know?

Which means I am really really going to look four or five months pregnant, unless I wear a bathing suit with German engineering so tight, it's like a girdle. Never mind the lifting of sagging things I'll need! Not very comfortable on a beach....

I am trying not to care, but as we've discussed, I am vain. I try to transcend it and be better and even kinder to myself. But in the end, I am obsessed.....

So any more travel advice, tips, ideas, thoughts, offers of free instant painless plastic surgery?

Yawn....

Am very tired now and amazed I got home. Always take a cab, even if your close friend says he'll give you a ride home, because even stone cold sober he might just be the world's worst driver! Wow--who knew?

Sigh...anyway I chatted with many nice people and had too many martinis with funky names. Am going to regret this when I try on bathing suits and shorts next week. I want to go away but I kind of wish I had another week to lose weight and get organized.

So I chatted with various staffers about the foster kids who died in care, (h/t Jade) and the various issues I get het up about like why aren't there any former foster kids or adoptees or birth parents on ANY Children's Aid Board of Directors in the province...and we'll see what happens with that.

Maybe nothing, but eh, can't hurt to moan about it can it, right?

I also introduced my lovely friends who gave me a ticket tonight to a whole load of cabinet ministers and staffers but sadly they left before I could really get them drinking and enjoying. Oh well...you know I always find it strange that people think you need money to have access. Meanwhile the most influential people I know are all just plain old volunteers who show up to knock on doors. Sure, maybe when the politician is Obama, but even he had a local campaign at one point, right?

So real people must have met him way back when, right?

Am going to try and digest the extremely over done well done tenderloin now. Oy. Blech.

Yawn.......

Speeches and dinners

I'm at the Ontario Liberal Party Heritage dinner tonight and laughing and have a great time.

Isn't getting the right hormone balance just the best fucking medicine EVAH?? Feel like six million bucks today dudes.

Did you know that the recession is almost over? Seriously, the bull is back, the bear is dead. The layoffs will unfortunately continue, but the market has hit bottom and things will only go up from here.

I know this....really.

Remember when I yipped on and on about the credit crisis and you all didn't know WTF crazy Aurelia was going on about? I was right, and bad shit happened.

Well take some hope my friends. It's time to think positive and it's not just the estrogen talking my peeps.

So on the dinner:

Dalton has some good jokes tonight as always. Very dry wit. Stupid me cannot follow the french bits. He has the hope meme down pat, and is working the inspiration hard.

It's good---I'm a fan of helping the poor and education spendng etc.

Okay, ten minutes in, I am distracted and want to know when dinner is served. Sorry Dalton baby, time to sit down! I'm hungry!

More later....

A-S-S-U-M-E

Did you ever hear the old saying, when you A-S-S-U-M-E you make an 'ASS' out of 'U' and 'ME'? Yeah, I'm sure you have. Trouble is, lots of people still do it.

Like a now deleted commenter on my previous post, who is not a regular reader, but came here, because of a tweet I did. He thinks that I, and I guess--anyone who disagrees with Mayor David Miller of Toronto is arrogant, asinine, illogical, and what was the other one? Oh yeah, negative.

He assumed that because my current form of birth control is not working and making me feel shitty and depressed that therefore, I am not allowed to comment on politics. That somehow, my brain no longer works. You know, the been-there-done-that hysterical hormonal women theme? Just because I hated David Miller.

Well, to clear up a few things---I feel much better now. A different pill and a nice estrogen boost and I'm much happier.

I still hate David Miller though. Always have, always will. Our current high pretentious dipshit Mayor frankly does a terrible job. I can proudly say that I have never ever voted for him. Not when he was a councillor, and not either time he ran for mayor. I know a lot of people who voted for him and are deeply ashamed of that fact and would give anything to take it back. I don't feel bad for them though.

You see, my brain, and my ability to assess someone's character still work just friggin fine even though I have some hormonal swings. They work fine even when I am depressed and they work just friggin fine when I am filled with joy. And even if they didn't work fine---guess what?

In Canada, there is no test for mental fitness to be a citizen or a voter or a commentator on political life. And politicians have an obligation to listen to me and to represent the mentally unwell's INTERESTS just as much as they have to represent the perfect white upstanding mentally balanced Bay Street lawyer in a suit.

I am equal to everyone else anywhere in this country. When I am medicated, when I am unmedicated, when I dress nice, when I don't, when my IQ is 60 or when it is 160, when I am male or when I am female, when I am in a wheelchair or striding down a street, when I am angry or happy or sad or suicidal or jumping for joy. No matter what is happening in my life, we never lose our right to free speech, or our right to tell a politician to FUCK RIGHT OFF BECAUSE HE SUCKS AT HIS JOB.

You see, this weekend, there is some sort of celebration going on about Toronto's 175th Birthday. No one really knows, because there has been almost no publicity about it, and really, no news coverage. It's that boring. Plus, in this economy, c'mon, if you are going to do something to draw in tourists, make it more fun than root canal. So, in light of the fact that his endless tweets about this boring drivel thing were making me want to stick a fork in my eye---I said so.

I could put up with it if we weren't facing total economic collapse in this city as a direct result of his incompetent leadership, but this guy really has no right to ever leave his desk at this point, much less tweet about it. Toronto has been teetering on the brink of budget collapse for years now all through the boom and he has done nothing. He was going to cut the out of control police budget and spend some money on crime prevention. Instead---he has spent over $400 million hiring new cops and every time the police ask for money, he's their go to guy. Cops now represent over 50% of the city budget when we are in a nationwide crime decline, but he says yes whenever they start some big freak out about gangs and guns. Considering today's headlines, you'd think he'd reconsider, but I'm not holding my breath.

Our streets are a disaster because he refuses to coordinate the private contractors and public road repair crews so that all of them work together at once. Instead they just randomly wander all over town ripping up streets and digging, one year for gas pipes, next year for water, six months later for hydro, a year later for high speed DSL repair. Nevermind that they could just plan it out and do it right all at once in such a way that people could walk, bike and drive around this city without losing their minds from potholes and construction debris. Then again, the city unions we have might object to actually working!

(And before anyone says it--I'm a union woman. I've been a member and I've organized and guess what? I want a good wage and benefits, but I also expect to work productively....I have zero respect for people who think union means they get to sit on their ass and only do their minimum quota, so don't even bother.)

But the thing I really hate about him the most is a problem that relates to my favourite subject. Health, specifically children's health. There are thousands of homes in Toronto that are contaminated with lead intake pipes, and now have lead in the water. Both from city pipes running down streets and pipes leading into houses. (The report has the nerve to use the term "acceptable levels of lead"; umm, no, there is no acceptable level of lead. None.) I already knew about this because before we bought this house I checked to make sure that the street pipe had been replaced, and when I discovered our intake pipe had lead, I paid to have it replaced. It cost a mint, but having struggled with learning problems, no way was I ever going to risk my babies having more problems because of some easy to fix water problem!

Years ago when we did it, during Miller's first term, the guy at the city had actually tried to convince me not to have it done, because "the crud on the inside of the pipe will protect you from the lead." Ummmmm, yah.

And who will protect me from the crud?

Not to mention the bacteria hidden IN the crud?

Anyway, you'd think that knowing that water is a basic human right, and that lead destroys children's brains and adult's body parts like kidneys and livers, that replacing these pipes would be his number one priority, his sine qua none, his reason for working round the clock, his budget centerpiece.

Not so much.

In fact, on his watch, the money that was supposed to be spent fixing the lead pipes was spent on a deep water cooling system for the downtown office buildings instead. Privately owned downtown office buildings, which get their air conditioning from Toronto Hydro, a separately financed entity, which could easily afford to finance the cooling operation without a dime of city water money.

David Miller and his cronies took the money that the taxpayers gave them to save us from lead poisoning, and they used it to install discount air conditioning for rich white dudes on Bay Street.

So was I hormonal when I tweeted? Sure...but I was still right, dead on.

Marvelon not so fucking marvelous

Broke down last night convinced everything was shit, and cried all night. My husband clueless----I decided to google all the medication I was on.

Guess what? Marvelon, my new birth control pill is reputed to cause hormonal hell and depression and other nasty side effects more than other birth control pills. Lovely. I knew I was feeling odd but I figured that as long as the bleeding stopped, I should not complain. I am trying a different pill as of today, one with another type of progesterone, a type I have had before and don't remember causing me to become a psycho.

Dr.Google saves the day again.

Now if I can just hold off the pit of despair while my body switches onto the new one.....

Hanging on for dear life here.....