It's been quite the week since I last checked in. Just when I was feeling smug for regaining some measure of control over how my days played out, things went nuts on me!
Nothing truly serious happened. Just a bunch of things that can throw a gal for some loops:
We had a sick dog that required lots of extra monitoring (and cleaning) and care (and cleaning). She's doing better right now. Hoping the good health sticks.
We fought the scourge of fleas (which, long story super-short, we now think we never had). Talk about situations that leave you feeling physically and emotionally drained . . . and helpless . . . and gross.
I got whiplash from the offer/implosion of a juicy last-minute "We must have YOU . . . NOW" writing gig. I frantically called in favors so I could fit it into my schedule, and then — just like that, as I was ready to dig in — I heard from the client, "Oh, were you counting on that? Sorry. We've killed that deal." Ah, well. Looks like I'll have just part-time work during the upcoming IVF. Maybe that's for the best.
A clinic employee who had (with NO prompting from me) flat-out offered to front us some sample meds for this IVF totally backtracked last week. When I called to plan my pharmacy order, it became clear that the "I want to help you guys out" conversation never officially happened. Grrrr. Luckily when we made our decision we factored in the possibility of that "help" saving us $0. But still. Grrrr.
My severe allergies paid a visit and then I had an allergic reaction to the allergy meds. Who knew that solid red rashes ("Look, it's Mother Teresa's face on my thigh!") and severe abdominal pain were potential side effects from a popular 24-hour OTC antihistamine. The abdominal thing is really rare, but I'm special. Yay! I was thisclose to an ER visit, but the on-call nurse's advice got me through the night.
And, as the perfect topper, all the round-the-clock nose blowing I did gave me a red-hot ear infection. I can't tell you how peeved I get when I need a doctor's visit for, uh, health reasons. I know it's silly, but it makes me feel weak. Like a big fat failure. (I know. It's a wee problem.) The fact that my PCP, who does NOT like to prescribe medications (a reason I like him), said that I had to take antibiotics didn't help my mindset. In the last calendar year alone — all due to having surgeries and so far completing two IVF cycles — I've taken more rounds of antibiotics than I have in at least 25 years, maybe even my life. And needing the pills now for an actual illness I felt responsible for inflicting (I already acknowledged it's a problem, okay?) pi$$ed me off something fierce!! I am against what I believe to be the long-time overuse of antibiotics in our culture. Of course I want people to get them when necessary. And I am a people. But all I could think about that first night (and I was up for all of it, shivering with fever and coughing/nose-blowing my brains out) was well here's another lovely side effect of IF: my year-long spate of antibiotics-swallowing (DH's too) may mean that I will now need more of them going forward . . . and so now I can add personally contributing to the rise of drug-resistant bugs that will effectively end the world to the list of things I thought I'd never do in the seemingly simple interest of trying (and trying . . . and trying) to have a baby. I've calmed down about that one since my fever broke Friday night.
I'm so glad it's a new week . . .
It's sunny and hot and blue. My marigolds are in full purple bloom. The house is definitely insect free. All clothing, carpets, and upholstered items are clean, and all surfaces are up to Mom's-visiting standards. I actually tasted my breakfast egg and nectarine. The dog is lolling in a sunbeam with a little grin on her face. I have no tissue in my hand (or pocket, or on the desk). I got an overdue paycheck in the mail. Tonight DH is running my errands and bringing dinner home.
Today is a fantastic day to be alive!