Blue

I had a really good morning, then this afternoon got hit with the blues. A big case of the blues.

I'm going to blame it on hormones-- I get to do that now-- but it wasn't just that. For some reason, I was really missing my little Vertigo Dog today. I can't believe she's been gone for ten months. I still come home, and part of me expects to see her face there, those fabulous ears up, tail wagging. There's nothing like coming home to the best dog in the world, and coming home without her there still feels all wrong.

I think it will feel wrong for a long time.

Then, at work, someone who I used to call a friend is leaving, and I had to do some of the stuff related to his departure. It was all perfectly cordial, but nothing more than that. This is someone I used to joke with, laugh with-- he was a work friend. I thought he was a good work friend.

I was wrong. Our friendship changed a long time ago, he decided I was something I'm not without ever talking to me about it, and now he's part of a group of people that simply don't like me. And we aren't friends any more.

This all happened a while ago, and I've been OK with it. Today, though, just brought a lot of it back, and made me sad again.

So while I'm blaming the hormones, it's not just that.

I think Jon St.ewart will cheer me up now.

It seems early for this

The Midwest has been hit by the first big storm of the year.

I kind of like snow, actually (especially since I don't have to drive to work). Snow puts a sparkly white blanket over the ugly dirt where flowers used to be, and it looks pretty on tree branches. If you walk outside during/after a snowfall, sounds seem muffled and distant, and you feel kind of like you're not really walking down your street at all, but down some strange, new, wonderful street you've never seen before.

What I don't like is when you get a couple of days of snow, and then the temperature drops like a stone, everything freezes over, and you slip and slide if you take two steps out of your house. (This is supposed to be what happens tomorrow.)

This is also the first snow since I lost Vertigo Dog. On the train home yesterday, a little part of my brain started thinking about how much suiting up was necessary and how many layers I was going to need to don in order to give her a proper walk when I got home-- and after a moment or two, the rest of my brain reminded me that she wasn't around to need a walk any more.

I would give anything to have to go to all the "trouble" of bundling up, just for the chance to give her one more walk.

Things you never really wanted to know

One of the side effects of IVF/fertility treatments: a sore butt. The right side of my tush feels like someone has been beating it with a mallet for several hours. Not good.

The reason: you have to inject yourself with progesterone. It's in a huuuuge needle, and it's an intramuscular injection; that means the butt. (Apparently you could use the thigh, but that's even more potentially painful, according to my doctor.) Then, the progesterone itself is suspended in oil, so if you don't sit yourself on a heating pad immediately after injection and stay there for as long as you can, well... You know what happens when oil isn't warm. Think about it.

I'm switching to an alternate progesterone delivery method (really, you don't want details, although you may get them eventually) after Sunday, so I've been trying to twist around and inject in my left tush rather than continue to make the right feel even worse. By Monday, both sides of my butt should feel equally like crap.

See? The things you learn from me. Well, the four of you reading this. :)

** **

Transfer was Thursday and went fine. Surprisingly, three of the embryos were of good quality, so that's exciting; the fourth was fragmented and rather sad, so while they popped it in with the rest, it's probably already moved off into embryo heaven or wherever they go.

I'll know more in a couple of weeks. Given my odds, I am doing my best to simply live my life and not think about it; at this point, all I can do is be healthy and keep going.

The two days of bedrest after were excruciatingly dull. You always think it's going to be nice to have an excuse to laze around, until you actually have to laze around. Boring. I watched Net.flix online (documentaries, mostly), and napped. Friends came over both nights for dinner and movies, so that was good. I got a lot of crochet done. I paid bills. I thought longingly of all the cleaning I could do if I wasn't on bedrest. (That's how you know you're bored: when you WANT to clean.)

The friend that came over last night brought her dog, and it was so nice to have a puppy around the house for a while. She's a love bug, so I got lots of dog cuddles and a few unwanted dog kisses-- dogs don't really make any kind of break between licking themselves and licking you. Heh.

My house feels much more like a home with a dog in it. Someday.

Thursday is transfer day

So: transfer is tomorrow. I really wish they could have held on until Saturday, for a five day transfer rather than a three day transfer, but it is what it is.

I don't know how many embryos will be transferred. I suspect not all four will be of good quality; I guess I'll find out in the morning.

** **

With transfer tomorrow, they want two days of bed rest. There's really no proof that it helps, but I figure it can't hurt.

An unexpected Thursday/Friday off from work, with no notice and with all kinds of people in town from the company that bought us, is not an easy thing to explain.

I had to manufacture a "family emergency." I really hate doing that, but there wasn't any alternative. It was a pretty believable falsehood, too-- I'm disappointed about the transfer being tomorrow rather than Saturday, so I'm already a little upset. And, to be honest, in the three months since I lost my little Vertigo Dog, tears are never very far from the surface.

And it is kind of a family emergency. It's my family. Or could be.

I'm taking vacation, so I'm not cheating or anything. I just feel bad that I'm not there during what's been one of the busiest weeks I've had in a long time. I should be able to work from home for part of the time, too, so that's good.

** **

I have acupuncture before and after the transfer. My wonderful acupuncturist is dragging herself out of bed at a hideous hour to meet me at 7 a.m.. Seriously, I love her like pie.

** **

I'm watching an American Experience about Joan Ba.ez. Dang, she looks gorgeous. I hope I age half as well as she has.

It's a grab-bag roundup

Had a nice weekend with family in town. They ended up leaving early, actually, which was OK-- it wasn't for bad reasons. They were being considerate, mostly, given they know my horrific schedule this week, and they saw me working at home both Friday and Saturday nights. (They're also not entirely comfortable in my house, but that's more because of their personalities than it is anything else, so I try not to worry about it. Much.)

So I had an unexpected, free Sunday afternoon, and it was much appreciated. Of course, "free" included going in to work, so.

** **

Early last week I attended volunteer orientation for the local animal shelter, and today-- in between work, Tar.get, and a quick trip to the gym-- I squeezed in my first trip over. It was excellent, excellent therapy, even though I couldn't stay long.

I walked a stocky, older little Shih Tzu mix who was absolutely delighted to get out, but who tired early on; we ended up taking our sweet time on the second half of the walk. At one point, she found something yummy in the grass, and her ecstatic back-rubbing roll was so reminiscent of my Vertigo Dog that I got tears in my eyes. It was worth it, though.

** **

I have a week coming up at work that is going to be incredibly, incredibly difficult on a personal level. My job involves doing some things that are extremely difficult; sometimes, they're painful. This is that kind of a week. And, while I can feel sorry for myself all I want, my angst is not the point this week. Not at all.

I'm also going to have to travel with all my fertility drugs, two of which have to be kept cold. I can't wait to deal with airport screening on that one. Plus, you know, injecting myself while in the airport bathroom stall. Oh, yeah.

** **

Speaking of drugs, I promised to post a picture of the big stack o'drugs.

From ...plus one

Impressive, hm?

I started shots today. It's surprisingly easy and painless. But I suspect it will be a little less easy in an airport bathroom stall.

Whine, whine.

Tell me something happy?

Bookends. Sort of.

My day started with a visit to my doctor's office, where I met with my nurse practitioner. We went over, in exhausting and terrifying detail, the wide variety of drugs I'm going to be putting in my body beginning in early October. My day ended with an acupuncture appointment.

From the most unnatural hour, to an extremely natural hour. What a day.

** **

When I pick up the box o'drugs (next week), I will take a picture of it, because it's gonna be huge. The extraordinarily cheerful dude at the drug place described it as "more than you'd take on a picnic." That's... a lot of drugs.

I'm not looking at my notes, but off the top of my head there are three injectibles I take pre-retrieval, one injectible that will act as both my trigger shot and as potential boosters post-embryo transfer, and then another injectible that goes in post-transfer. There's also an antibiotic in there somewhere, and possibly another pill I'm forgetting. And one-- ONE-- Vali.um.

Seriously, people, what is that? One? Give me a whole damn bottle.

The pre-retrieval injectibles are all subcutaneous, using leetle tiny needles, and should be easy. However, the trigger shot med and the post-retrieval injectibles are all intramuscular and involve needles as long as my palm. And, not only are they ginormous needles, but I'm going to have to twist around and shoot myself in the ass.

("Usually we're teaching this to people's husbands," the nurse said. Yeah, I know. I wish.)

My nurse went carefully over the different drugs, how to mix them, what needles to use, etc.; we even practiced injecting on a fake bump of skin. It was helpful, and I took piles of notes. She's crabby but competent, and while some days it'd be nice to have a warm shoulder to lean on, most of the time I prefer that things not be sugar-coated.

I'm going to have to give myself shots in the ass.

Oy.

** **

Acupuncture was, as usual, an oasis.

I love my acupuncturist more and more, and now that I know for sure she's pregnant (hey, I never assume-- some people gain weight in the belly) I need to find a baby blanket pattern and get to work crocheting. Something in a gender-neutral color, and I think in a nice cotton. Organic, if I can find a sale.

Yay! More yarn! What? I don't have a problem. Shut up.

Now that I'm getting a better idea of the time frame for this IVF shindig (it won't be 100% certain until my next cycle actually starts), I can see her moving the points around, thinking things through. She also started me on some Chinese herbs, with the idea that I'm done with them before I start with the needles.

I don't know if acupuncture helps, but it certainly can't hurt. And I absolutely walk out of there feeling better. It might just be the enforced down time, but I'll take it.

** **

If you've never read Post Secret, it's addictive. But this secret just wrecked me.

Thank God I was there for her, right until the end.

Long weekends don't suck

Oh, three day weekends, how I love you. More than pie, that's how much.

Nothing too major planned-- hanging out with a friend tomorrow, and a BBQ on Monday. Sunday, I think, will be a major lazy day, though I am going to get to work on a couple of house projects. I also brought work home, but it's not too taxing and I can probably get it done while watching bad movies.

The BBQ on Monday is not only appealing because hello, BBQ, but also features a dog. A big sweet spazzy dog. I was talking to my mom today, and she told me she spotted a puppy in the newspaper, actually called on the puppy, and then my dad talked her out of it. They lost their dog at the beginning of the year-- what with that and the loss of my own dog, this is the first time our family has been dogless in about 15 years. We're not good at it.

After admitting that my dad was right to talk her out of the puppy (it's too soon, and they're just not ready yet), she mentioned that both she and my dad really spot dogs when they're out and about, and focus in on them. I had to laugh, and admitted that I'm doing the same thing; I have an embarrassing tendency right now to kind of fling myself at every dog I see. Fortunately, dog owners all pretty much think their dogs are the cutest, most awesome, best dogs ever, so (for the most part) strangers telling them how fabulous their dog is is par for the course.

I do have to restrain myself from offering dog-sitting services to strangers, though; that sounds too much like stalking. (I'm only half-kidding. We have two new puppies on our block, and I'd dog-sit in a heartbeat.)

So hopefully I can drag myself away from the dog on Monday enough that I'm not insulting to my hosts. Of course, given how awesome they think their dog is, they probably won't mind.

** **

Quick update on medical stuff (now that it's not really "the plumbing" any more, I need to come up with a tag): they confirmed today that I'm approved for IVF, I'm scheduled for both a consult with my doctor and a session where the nurses teach me to administer the IVF drugs to myself (whee! needles!), and I started birth control today. Sadly, the BC pills aren't because I'm trying to prevent pregnancy from all the fabulous nookie I'm getting; they're just to control my cycle until I further manipulate it with the IVF drugs. (Bleah.)

It's been a while since I've been on BC, but I suspect one thing won't have changed: hello, almost instant 10 pound weight gain. Seriously-- every time I start new, 10 pounds go on automatically with no change in eating or exercise. And I'm already up a few pounds from all the stress at work.

So I went to the gym tonight, and am going to do my best to get back to four days a week at the gym; I may puff up from the pills, but I don't have to make it easy for them.

I also started a spreadsheet to track costs and dates for all the various things I'm doing. Probably-nonexistent-baby is already costing a fair bit of cash. If baby ever does exist, though, s/he will be worth every penny.

Laaaaazy

When you think "awesome willpower," my name does not come to mind. I am lazy. Laaaaaazy. I'm talking Olympic gold medal-level lazy. I'm a perfectly good cook, yet I eat frozen dinners rather than wait a few more minutes for the pasta to cook or the chicken to broil. I always have clean bathrooms, but dust can be seven layers deep on my tables and I barely raise an eyebrow. Sometimes (more often than I will admit, even here) my outfit for the day is decided not by what I want to wear, but by what requires the least amount of ironing. I can waste hours-- days, even-- on the internet rather than doing anything remotely productive. (How long have I needed to sand/paint my bathroom ceiling? Don't ask.)

Laaaaaazy.

I beat myself up about this, sometimes. One of the ways I've been doing this lately is wondering about just how I'll be as a single mom. Lazy is not an easy thing to overcome. Lazy trumps a lot of things. Will my child get the short end of my lazy stick?

If I think about it, though, maybe it's that I'm lazy about things I have (apparently) decided just don't matter as much. To me, anyway. For instance, despite the amount of work it takes as a single person in the city to have a dog, I had an awesome dog for over 14 years. And while sometimes I grumbled about the time it took to keep her cared for in the style she was happily accustomed to, I never really minded; as lazy as I am, she was worth every second, every dollar, every worried night, every walk in subzero weather. I carried her up and down stairs for the last month of her life, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

I'm lazy, but it didn't matter one bit when it came to her.

Since I found out about IVF going away as of 1/1 (see a couple of posts ago), it's like a switch has gone off. I've given up artificial sweeteners, I'm scheduled for acupuncture, I'm bringing my lunch rather than eating processed foods, I have a yoga DVD arriving in the next few days, I've been to the gym a number of times...

Maybe I'm just someone who needs a really good reason not to be lazy. Maybe my "really good reason" bar is set high.

And maybe, just maybe, that's OK.

I do need to get motivated on the bathroom ceiling, though.

I do not think it means what you think it means

I had my hysteroscopy on Thursday. I'd been warned by Dr. M that there would be some "discomfort."

To me, "discomfort" does not mean "doubled over, bathed in a cold sweat, going entirely grey, and wishing that some kind nurse would come by and put you out of your misery." Seriously, if someone had come by and offered to off me, for about 20 minutes I'd have taken them up on it.

Fortunately, that passed, but it's been an uncomfortable few days. The worst part is that there's a balloon in there (to prevent adhesions), and until that comes out on Monday morning, my body desperately wants to get the plastic the hell OUT of there.

Whine, whine, whine. I'm glad it's over. I'll worry about next steps when I have to.

I've had pretty good coverage, friends-wise, since I've been recovering. Tonight, though, is one of the first nights I've been home totally alone with nothing to do since my sweet Vertigo Dog left me. (I had an invite to go out, but given some of the equipment associated with having the balloon, I'm feeling less than festive. WANT IT GONE.) I am still not adjusted to not having her little face around. I still flinch when I drop something or make a loud noise-- she'd gone so deaf in her last years that sudden noises startled (and often scared) her.

She's not there any more to be startled. It's just so wrong.

I've had several people tell me that they "saw" or "heard" their pet around, after the pet was gone-- not a ghost, of course, but probably some kind of emotional memory. All have said it was very comforting.

I haven't seen or heard her; I wish I could, because it would feel less lonely around here. And maybe it would help me know she's all right. I know that sounds silly. But there it is.

End of an era

Friday morning, I took my sweet old Vertigo Dog in to the vet. I lifted her up onto a blanket on the examining table, and she fell asleep in my arms for the last time.

It doesn't seem that long ago, really, that I saw her sitting in the back of her cage at the city animal control facility-- tail thumping, ears up, eyes alert. We were constant companions from the moment we left the pound together; that was fourteen and a half years ago. I barely remember the person I was before she was part of my life. I barely remember what my life was like before her.

Pets are family. To a single person, they're even more important. Hers was the face I saw first every morning, last every night, and the face (and tail) that greeted me whenever I came home. I hate coming home now; it's all wrong. My house is empty and quiet and awful. It's all wrong, and the wrongness is a constant weight pressing on my chest.

I tell myself I did the right thing. I know, intellectually, that I did. As the friend who went with me said, she went while there was still a little bit of her left. But my heart can't quite catch up with my mind.

The vet actually asked if I wanted to be there for it. I am sure there are people who can't, and that's an incredibly personal thing that they have to handle themselves. But I knew, and know, that it was my responsibility to be there for her. It was my responsibility to tell her I loved her, to have my arms be the last arms she felt around her, and my face be the last face she saw.

She trusted me to take care of her for fourteen and a half years, and I just hope that, wherever she is now, she knows I did the best I could.

I know this terrible sadness will pass. I know it will. But right now, everything hurts, and I would give anything to have her back, no matter how selfish a wish that is.

Happy Independence Day!

There might only be two people reading this, but I should still update.

First of all, my knee is annoying. Every so often, it hurts like a something-we-won't-name-here when I'm going down stairs; I went to the ortho last year, and there's really nothing to be done. I take the glucosamine, blah blah. I may call and see if I can get a couple of PT sessions just to teach me some good strengthening/stretching exercises.

Relative to the plumbing, cautiously optimistic news. I need a hysteroscopy (which is much like a more specific D&C, from what I can tell) to clean things out a bit, and after that my fabulous doctor doesn't see any reason why I can't get knocked up. My hormones are good and everything else seems to be in decent working order.

Of course, I'm not sure it's a good idea to have a baby when YOU CAN'T WALK ON YOUR KNEE, but hopefully that will clear up. :)

(God, getting old is sucky.)

Lastly, and leastly, an update on Vertigo Dog. She's definitely overall better than she was-- she's walking with what appears to be only minimal discomfort, her appetite is good, everything relative to digestion (if you get my drift) is fine.

But she's just less than she was, which makes sense given that she's around 100 in dog years. She still can't go down stairs (hey, something we have in common), and going up is difficult. She can't jump into her favorite chair. She still gets very agitated if she can't find me, even if she sees me leave. And she still has periods where she gets agitated and can't/won't settle down, which kill me.

I desperately want her to be happy and healthy for as long as possible, and as I look at her now, I wonder if I'm keeping her around more for me than for her. I guess I need to figure that out, and soon.

Saturday, I went to the first birthday party of a friend's daughter (yes, that sentence took a while to construct). We went to college together, and have stayed in loose touch ever since. We reconnected recently-- originally through Fac*ebook, and later in person as she's a single mom by choice, and I wanted to pick her brain.

(I think Fac*ebook is an entire blog entry by itself. Or three. Remind me to write the one about where my middle school nemesis has friended me. Hello? We loathed each other throughout middle/high school. Why would either of us care about what the other is doing now? Sorry. I digress.)

Anyway, the first birthday party was lovely, though of course the birthday girl couldn't have cared less about her presents; she was busy slamming together two coasters and laughing uproariously about how funny it was.

They're much cheaper to entertain at that age, that's for sure.

Also worth mentioning: the child spotted the chocolate cake and immediately scooped up a piece and shoved it in her mouth with absolutely perfect aim, then was startled at the wild applause. The pictures will serve her mother well someday, I'm sure.

** **

Vertigo Dog is... well, not doing all that well. The morning of the big negative stuff at work, she took a tumble down a flight of stairs, and it's been a slow road back to having full use of her hind legs. My poor old girl; I'm not sure how much more she can take of this. I'm not sure how much she should take.

What's especially hard is that I don't know, now, if things that are wrong are simply related to the vertigo, or related to her fall. She got agitated tonight and stayed that way for about 45 minutes, for instance; I think she only calmed down once she tired herself out. Was it a recurrence of the vertigo episode? Some of the symptoms were the same, but not all.

I have to think it's scary to be in her little brain right now. She feels dizzy and nauseous, on top of her already aged brain cells, and her back legs are (probably) sore and not working like they should. Then, of course, there's the existing problem with one of her front legs.

There's definitely been improvement since the fall Thursday. No question about that. I just have to be patient; incremental improvement is better than none at all. But at some point, if there's not even that...

The look on her face today, when she was agitated, broke my heart. I have to make sure she has a life that has some quality.