Monday, February 7, 2011

Sunday Bloody Sunday

Today’s story is not for the faint of heart, nor the weak of stomach. It is going to mention girl parts, and the ‘p’ word, and since that word is neither ‘popcorn’ nor ‘pirates’, any male readers who may have happened to accidentally stumble upon this blog should run away quickly. Here’s some help – either here, or, depending on your interests, here.

Last week was a rough week. I kicked it off, quite literally, by dislodging the AC power supply from my LaCie external hard drive and breaking off two of the mini pins in the process. Cost to replace it and have another Fed Ex’d to my house, $30+. Cost to my pride, as I had to explain a week delay in a deliverable to my boss – well, difficult to measure. The week ended with me getting trashed, but not in a pleasant way. I thought it would be a brilliant idea to hang a blanket over my window, to try to block out some of the street noise and help with the 5:30 am sleep issue. WITH JENNY WATCHING, I stood up on my chaise, immediately got dizzy, stumbled backwards, fell off the chaise, caught my leg in a garbage can on the floor beside the chaise, teetered awkwardly and painfully for a while, then finally fell between my bed and end table. Jenny mostly just looked embarrassed for me, which was the right expression. Do as I say, kid. Man, those Bed, Bath and Beyond plastic garbage cans are STURDY. Oh, and I then discovered that the OTHER window in my room has been open 2-3 inches all winter, which explains both the noise AND my unusually high electric bill. So I’m winning fewer than usual smart points, if I had any at all after that last story.

Saturday I was feeling a little grumpy and irritable. So was Jenny, surprisingly. I figured we were a little PMSy as my period was on the calendar for Thursday. Jellybean went off to The Ta’s for a pizza party while I had a blast at my Lucky 32 cooking class (mmmm Gumbo). Both of us exhausted, we crawled into my bed for naps, but I was unable to sleep, oddly – crampy? Well, check that out. I pulled out my phone (because isn’t that where everyone tracks AF nowadays?) and instead of being early, I found that Mr. T has realigned me. I’m back on track. Also – in case you hadn’t noticed. No. Migraine.

Did you catch that?







I had a bitch of a headache for most of yesterday and popped Ibuprofen all day long. But that is a heckuva lot different than shaking and sobbing and barfing and shuddering, and muscle aches and spasms and unable to focus or care for my child and spending an entire following day feeling like I’ve been hit by a car. So again – cautiously optimistic. Especially since this is Monday of Week Four on Mr.T, and I’m heading into the 100mg final lap. Most of the nightmares are gone, and I can live with the extremity tingling and the occasional bouts of nausea. Some minor occasional forgetfulness, nothing severe. I’ve made a follow-up appointment with Dr. Jones for next week, so we’ll see what he says, but I feel pretty good about the whole thing. This is something I can live with. This is manageable. This is livable. So what do you think - do I mess with it just a teensy bit more and make a gyno appointment and go on the Seasonique?

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