WAITING FOR THE POT TO BOIL (PART II)

.


Friday, December 31, 2004

Is It Strange To Be In Love With a Vacuum?

I love my new vacuum. I really really really do. It is a Dyson "Animal" and it cost half a grand, but baby it was worth every penny. Chris and I actually were fighting over who got to use it. Today before work I heard words out of his mouth I thought I'd never hear, "I think I'll do a bit of light vacuuming tonight." Which was even funnier because we had already vacuumed every square inch of our home.

Today is 12 DPO. Which reminds me, the other day when I visited her at work, my friend Brina asked me a funny question. She is not an infertile but she is a symathizer, and a good one at that. She has never given me stupid assvice and even though the day I met her she was pregnant with her second child, I never felt bad around her. Anyway, she asked what was with the Robitussin? "You don't do anything....weird with it do you?" I thought about telling her I snorted it or froze it into ice cubes and used it as a suppository, but she was just so earnest. Not only that but our fellow dispatcher, Dino, was listening. Dino is the most awesome male-non-IF-sympathizer ever. He listened to every stage of this journey, even asking questions and also never gave stupid advice. However, there is only so much one man could take, I'm sure, so I refrained and told Brina the truth. I think she was a little let down.

This was a boring post I can't top the last one, so I won't even try. I gotta say I am a little scared about this months effort. EVERYTHING was perfect, timing, location, everything. AND my tubes were just HSG'd and my womb is all "fresh" and ready to recieve a baby. I think this is going to be a huge let down. I keep praying and telling the "little guy" who may not even exsist, to hold on, don't let go, please please don't let go. Also, I have to pee every hour, but I am prone to bladder infections (TMI sorry), so.......Sigh. Please hold on little guy......

Sunday, December 26, 2004

22 Infertiles Walk Into a Bar...

I used to belong to a Comedy Improv Team and one of the games we would play, was called, “22” It goes like this:

22 (fill in the blanks) walk into a bar. Bartender says, we don’t serve (blanks) here, and the 22 (blanks) say…(fill in punch line).

The audience would give us the topic and we’d make up the punch line, on the spot. It doesn’t have to be funny, but it does have to make sense. It can be clever, witty, a play on words, or a groaner. For example, we’d ask the audience, “Give us a noun!” And they’d say something like, “Cars!” And then my teammates and I would get a point for each “joke” we could make up. We would say something like: 22 Cars walk into a bar. Bartender says, we don’t serve Cars here and the 22 cars say……”You AUTO let us stay, we’re thirsty!” And each team member would go until we couldn’t think of any more jokes. I love to play this game with Chris, it makes him laugh, so I thought I’d give it a try with “Infertiles.” So here goes, I made all of these up, today when I couldn’t fall asleep:

22 Infertiles walk into a bar. Bartender says, we don’t serve Infertiles here, and the 22 Infertiles say….Why not, looks like you have plenty of WOMB.

22 Infertiles walk into a bar. Bartender says, we don’t serve Infertiles here, and the 22 Infertiles say…Are you afraid we might STIRRUP some trouble?

22 Infertiles walk into a bar. Bartender says, we don’t serve Infertiles here and the 22 Infertiles say…I can’t CONCIEVE of why not!

22 Infertiles walk into a bar. Bartender says, we don’t serve Infertiles here and the 22 Infertiles say…You know, that is not an ULTRA SOUND decision on your part, mister!

22 Infertiles walk into a bar. Bartender says, we don’t serve Infertiles here because they are too grumpy, and the 22 Infertiles say… We aren’t grumpy, that is just a common MISSED CONCEPTION.

22 Infertiles walk into a bar. Bartender says, we don’t serve Infertiles here can’t you read the sign? And the 22 Infertiles look above the bar and indeed there was a sign that read:

No Shirt
No Shoes
No CERVIX

HA HA HA. I love that one. Can you think of any? Give me any noun, I can come up with at least 3. This makes for a great Car Trip Game, BTW. And yes, I am aware that I have far too much free time on my hands! MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Stupid Parent Tricks

Chris and I had a fantastic time at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, (though I was inspired by the monsters disguised as children and wrote the list that follows later.) The hotel was also awesome, private balcony and view of the sea. When we got there there was a fire going in the fireplace and there was champange waiting on ice. However, today when we visited Carmel by the Sea, everything went to crap. The townsfolk fell just short of running us out with torches and pitchforks. I have no idea how they knew we were blue-collar/middle class, maybe they can smell it or something, but they were so blatantly rude to us! Our waiter all but spit on us. No one spoke to us or even offered us water for 15 minutes. Everyone else got bread before their meal, we got dirty looks. Our waiter brought us our food and then NEVER came back until we flagged him down for the bill. He walked right by us to the rich looking couple behind us six times, but I guess we just weren't the right kind of guest. Was it my Levi's? Chris' non brand name sunglasses (that I love), our lack of jewelry? How does he know we aren't loaded? Funny thing is Chris and I are really good tippers. The table there had white paper covering it and Crayons so you could write on the table while waiting for your food. After filling it with tic tac toe and hangmans, I wrote "Our waiter hates us, which is too bad because we tip really big--but only if you deserve it!!!"--in three colors. Joke's on them, we spent the whole ride home laughing about it.

And now:

STUPID PARENT TRICKS

I don't have children, I am not an expert on childhood behavior. When I am a parent, I will make mistakes, however I WILL NOT make the following mistakes that were made yesterday at the aquarium:

*One mom lifted her child over the guardrail--the one there for everyone's safety, not as an obstacle meant to be tackled--and took pictures. Then yelled at the child when she stayed behind it.

*Another told Chris and I, after her child bumped into me repeatedly, that she gave her child too much sugar and soda. She then proceeded to complain to US how he is out of control. Lady, you made him that way! And don't you laugh in that "isn't it just adorable/funny/commiserative /way. Notice that I am not laughing with you. Or at you. Or even near you.

*At one point I was obviously trying to take a picture of something, and some lady stepped in front of me and then called her child's attention to the it, then her entire family all crowded in front of it, blocking said object. I never did get the picture!

*When I have a child, I will not stand in front of a display with one of those giant hiker's backpacks, that you carry toddlers in, then spin around quickly, causing other patrons to have to dive for cover.

*To the lady infront of the Jelly fish tank:If your out of control child jumps up and down on my foot, why are you glaring at me when I yelp in pain? It is not my fault your child is husky.

*In the cafe, a lady asked us if we were in line then took her entire litter and bypassed us! We were not just standing there in the line for no reason, nor were we holding her place.

* One lady blocked an entire aquarium with a 4 foot wide stroller. (I won't even mention the exact number of how many people, hit me, blocked me or bumped into me with strollers.)

*Another Mom brought her child to see the Swell Shark incubating and went in to graphic detail about how, "When you were in Mommy's tummy you were attached like that by your belly button" Not only was she using her "outdoor voice" she was explaining this to a 2 year old who looked, both confused and bored.

* A father and son bonded by pounding on the shark tank exhibit and yelling. Meanwhile Chris and I prayed the glass would break and the shark would eat them both.

*We waited in line to have our picture taken inside the giant clam and had family after family cut in front of us, then when it was finally our turn--family after family walked in front of the camera.

*Even though the sign said "please touch the sea sponge gently" these parents laughed as their child flattened the creature. Even though a sign said, "for the shark's safety no flash photography", many parents, set a bad example by completely ignoring this.

Funny things: Every time Chris walked up to an aquarium, I mean every time, the fish would hide. You could have an entire third grade class in front of the tank but when Chris walked up they all fled. Chris went to the men's room. It was very crowded and he didn't want to stand next to anyone else so he thought, it would be a good idea to use the short urinal on the end. So he does, his thing, finishes and turns around. There behind him is a really long line, all the way to the door of small children. Turns out that it wasn't just a short urinal, it was for kids! He was so embarrassed; so much for his plan of being left alone! And finally, we went into this children's crawl area (ok for adults) to take a picture of the tropical fish, and when we crawled out all the parents were glaring at us for going in with out kids! So, that is my trip, we had fun.

Infertile update: I suck. I was supposed to start doing the white bullets 3 days ago and I keep forgetting. I think I am getting a cold too. I am still optimistic. Hope has arrived and she is settling in nicely, whether I like it or not. 12 days or so till FRED. Night!

Monday, December 20, 2004

Bawm-Chicka-Bawm-Bawm-Waka-Waka-Waka

(Title:Think 70's porn music) Not that I have any idea what 70's porn music is like...Ahem. Moving right along, I am soooooo excited! Going on a "weekend" getaway! At just the right time! Come gentle readers, join me as I make my check list for the trip:

*Money? Check.

*ID? Check.

*Pet sitter? Check.

*Lengthy list of doggies likes and dislikes, even though it's only an overnight trip? Check.

*Guilt about leaving the dogs behind. Check.

*Fear the dogs may just eat the Christmas tree in our absence? Check.

*Green tea, pre-pre-natals, Robitussin? Check.

*Ovulating? CHECK!!!!

*Reservations at a really swanky bed and breakfast with a fireplace, private balcony and unobstructed view of the ocean? Check.

*Great white sharks, sea horses and starfish? Check. (I am not hallucinating, we are going to the Monterey Bay aquarium and they have a brand new shark exhibit!)

*Sexy little number for tonight? Ch---, hey (blushing) that's just a little too personal!

*Husband who says if I don't get off the flippin' computer he's leaving without me? Check!

Gotta go, tell you all about it when I get back tomorrow. Well, not all about it but...Chris? Wait for me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday, December 18, 2004

Let Me Count the Ways I Hate You

WARNING: Last time I wrote a funny/hostile post I got zero comments, (see Open Letter to the Drivers of this area). I think my anger, frightened some people. As Brina will back me up on, our jobs as 911 dispatchers, just make our sense of humor, a little, well...off. Please don't be frightened, it's only me. And now....

10 Things I Hate About Everyone

1. People who point at their wrist while asking for the time.... I know where my watch is pal, where the hell is yours? Do I point at my crotch when I ask where the toilet is?

2. People who are willing to get off their bums to search the entire room for the TV remote because they refuse to walk to the TV and change the channel manually.

3. When people say "Oh you just want to have your cake and eat it too". Damn right! What good is cake if you can't eat it?

4. When people find something and say "it's always the last place you look". Of course it is. Why the hell would you keep looking after you've found it?

5. When people say while watching a film "did you see that?". Nope, I paid $10 to come to the cinema and stare at the damn floor.

6. People who ask "Can I ask you a question?".... Didn't really give me a choice there, did ya sunshine?

7. When something is 'new and improved!'. Which is it? If it's new, then there has never been anything before it. If it's an improvement, then there must have been something before it, so it couldn't be new.

8. When people say "life is short". What the hell?? Life is the longest thing anyone ever does!! Name one thing you do that's longer?

9. When you are waiting for the bus and someone asks "Has the bus come yet?" If the bus came would I be standing here, dumbass?

10. When you are buying 6 books on infertility and the sales clerk tells you to relax it will happen or God forbid launches into an unsolicited story that starts with, "You know what worked for my friend.....?" No I don't but I bet you're going to tell me.

(Disclaimer: Some of these were borrowed from my buddy Jimmy)

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Warning: Contents Under Extreme Pressure

My husband is stressed so I am stressed by Osmosis. It is a good thing I don't have a stressful job, like one where others lives are at stake...oh wait.
On another note, I have yet to buy my OPKs, take my Robitussin or temperature. I feel very bad about how apathetic I am being about this month's attempt, so far. Of course, it is only day 9. Or is it 10? See! I should know these things! I suck.
I am having a writer's block. Anything anyone want me to write about? I take requests. I wrote a pretty good one for Jen P a while back about multi-pet families. Speaking of Jen P, for those of you who pray, please keep her in your thoughts and prayers, she is the "Reich Ovary."
So what do you want me to write about? Think of me as your own personal "Dear Abby"...

Sunday, December 12, 2004

You Might Be A Cop's Wife If....

Except for Michelle, Brina and I who are married to cops, this may not be all that funny, but what the heck here goes anyway, I hope you enjoy.

You Might Be a Cop's Wife If:

*You talk more in code than English sometimes. "10-4, hon."

*Your husband seems to hang up his brain with his badge/gun at the end of the day.

*DH shouts at the TV "That's not proper police procedure!" Every time you watch NYPD Blue .

*You have ammo in you bedside table instead of, well whatever normal people put in there.

*Your husband bought you a bullet proof vest for your birthday, "just in case"

*You have more paper targets up than wall paper.

*Your bathroom material and the secret stash of mags under the bed are both "Guns and Ammo"

*At work your husband can remember a suspect's name, DOB, drivers license number and AKAs but at home he can't remember to take out the trash on Mondays.

*Your husband asks to see the ID of everyone who comes to the door including the mail man.

*You have ever been at a mall/grocery store/video store/restaurant/children's birthday party and suddenly had to leave because your husband saw someone he arrested.

*DH drives like he is in Nascar when in his own personal vehicle, forgetting he is not in a patrol car.

*When you go out to dinner, your husband, points out which waiter, customer or cook is on meth, vicodin etc.

*Your husband can't figure out why everyone isn't getting out of his way, in traffic, like they do when he is at work.

And finally:

*That is a gun in his pocket, even if he is happy to see you.

(These were all based on fact, let me know if you think of any others. Chris is gonna kill me when he reads this one!)

Saturday, December 11, 2004

Excuse Me While I Slip Into Something More Comfortable....Like a Paper Towel

No matter how clever and witty this post may be, the original was better. I did the the same thing as yesterday and I accidently deleted the whole thing. It was really funny. Oh well.

So I went to the doctor this morning and I was happy to be his first appointment of the day. And yet, still I waited for 20 minutes. It's a conspiracy. So I walk into the room and I see the paper "blanket". "Oh no," I said to the nurse, "not again, I swear there is nothing new in there!" She smiled politely. "Can't this be a clothed visit? I haven't been in stirrups this much since the summer of '94 when I tried horseback riding. Ha, ha, ha. (Uncomfortable silence.) Ahem, Ok, so I'll be in here if you need me. I'll be the half naked one wearing a cocktail napkin." Sigh. So Doc H comes in and checks out my tonsils through my hoo-ha, (they are still fine, by the way). Says everything looks great. Like normal woman great, not IF great. Our plan of action: December, January and February we'll mate like rabbits, (me and Chris not me and the Doc), then if that doesn't work we start with IUI in March. No clomid. No way. Just rabbit/OPK/Robitussin/white bullets/head stands. Not gonna do the BBT thing because I sleep during the day and am awake and night and I just don't have the patience to figure out when to take my temp. Maybe I'll do that in the Spring some time... You know what is sad? All I want for Christmas is an electronic Ovulation Predictor Kit. Oh goodie!

OK, so I am about to rant about something waaaaay off topic. If you get a chance take a look at the cover of this week's US. It says "Jessica [Simpson] Got Skinny!" Or some B.S. like that. She was already skinny now her ribs are showing! What did they think she was before? Husky? Thick? Gargantuan? And you know the person who wrote that is some slob sitting in their tiny cubicle behind their crappy desk, gorging on McCheeseburgers. You'd think they could have an ounce of consideration their readers and for what a real woman is. But no, they are too busy being bitter about the career path they have chosen to realize that the average female is size 10 not 2. Ignorant! Pisses me off. Whew. I feel better now that I have vented.

Speaking of "fluffy/fat"... And now I will close with yet another dog story. I have this bathrobe I like to wear, (Mom, you know the one) and Riley, the pleasantly plump puppy, always attaches the side of her 65 pound body to my leg when I wear it, where ever I go. Sometimes she actually walks inside the bathrobe if I stand still long enough. Well, this morning I took off the robe and draped it over the edge of the bed to see what would happen. Yup, you got it she stayed with the robe. I came back later and found, she had pulled a tiny corner of it onto the floor and was curled around it snoring like a lumberjack. Mom, rememeber how Hobbes (our cat), used to put a piece of our terry cloth robes (whether we were in them or not), in his mouth and suck on it. Remember, he'd knead it with his front paws and make "gggggg" sounds deep in his throat? I have weird pets. Oh, well, I have to go back to work. Til Later!

Friday, December 10, 2004

Who Needs Rudolph, When You've Got Hair Like This?

Hello to my new friend Michelle (please email me, I have a million questions) and hello to you, my little Blog, oh how I have missed you! My computer has gone kaput at home and we have a brand new policy that states we are not allowed to go online, (except to check email) at work anymore. We have a secure “intranet” and some Spyware that records keystrokes got in some how. This is very bad because we deal with a lot of confidential info here. I am having internet withdrawals. How, you may ask yourself did I post this? Well, I emailed myself this post, then on my lunch break, I will go out into the lobby of the police station, where there is a computer for the public and then cut and paste this onto my Blog. If, that is, that computer is working, which is about a 50/50 chance. Honestly, since I can be in and out in one minute or less, if it is not working, I will very quickly jump on and off the internet to cut/paste/post. But just this once. Really. No I mean it. {Written after the fact: Lobby computer worked.}

A lot has happened, recently. If you are as into my cycle as I am, and come on, who wouldn’t be, you may remember December is a very important TTC milestone. Two reasons, because it is the first post-lap attempt and because my Doc was optimistic, for the first time, about me getting pregnant. He thinks he fixed me. Though I am skeptical for my own emotional protection, I am going all out, this month. We are talking BBTs, Robitussin, OPKs, headstands, the whole nine months. I mean yards. Nine yards, whoo-wee, my Freudian Slip is showing, how embarrassing. Continuing on, I have a doctor’s appt. with Dr. H tomorrow when I get off of work at 8am. My period this time was especially painful. I needed to take six Advil on and off for three days! It hurt worse than any of the days after my surgery. Also, when I called for this appt., they said I was supposed to go in 2 weeks post-op for a check up. Maybe they should have called and reminded me, instead of assuming that I would remember what they told me all doped up in the recovery room… Either way, whoops. As for this difficult cycle, I am guessing it was because things were still healing on the inside. Also, it lasted 5 days instead of my normal 2, so this very well may have been my first “real” period in years. OK, enough about my bodily functions, you can’t possibly find them as fascinating as I do…and if so, get help, fast. Speaking of bodily functions, did you know I have fecal-a-phobia? (Yes, I made that term up) I can’t stand poo. When South Park’s Mr. Hanky the Christmas Poo comes on, I run screaming from the room. Every time. Chris loves to watch S.P. and he thinks it’s hilarious. I can’t clean the toilet either, without heaving. Chris usually has to do that too. Strange thing is, picking up after the dogs doesn’t bother me at all, so I think I will be OK, with diaper changes. I hope, for Chris’ sake! How did that come up? Did I have a point, or was I just in the mood to talk about poo….? Oh yeah, I am watching CSI, which I love, and they had a prison fight where the inmates flung poo and I just about puked up my popcorn. They could have at least warned the viewers. Both me and my dispatcher friend have had 911 calls where the guy had, “explosive diarrhea" and proceeded to explain this medical problem in great, expressive detail. Loved that call, so much. Ok, enough about poo, (but by the way, I know poo has an “h” on the end, but I didn’t want anyone to think I was afraid of yellow bears in red t-shirts, ‘cause that would be weird…)

So, let me tell you about the CHP Christmas dance and why the title of my Post is “Who Needs Rudolph When You’ve got Hair Like This?” I dyed the front of my hair blonde, just two one inch strips in the front, and my intention was to dye them red. Like a sultry deep, crimson red—my favorite color. I always do stuff with my hair, my motto is--it’s only hair, and it will grow back. So ON THE DAY OF my husband’s office party, I think, hey today is as good as any to dye my hair! This is the hair equivalent for you, right now, as watching a scary movie where the person is about to go alone into the basement. Of course, from your comfortable chair, you are thinking, “Oh, bad idea. No…no…Oh man she went and did it anyway. Stupid! I never would have done that.” Yeah. Where were you and why didn’t you call and warn me? So, as I stood crying in front of the mirror, staring at my (I swear, no exaggeration) florescent, day glow, fuchsia hair, all I could think of was what my husband’s co-workers would think or say at the party that night:

*Hey Chris, my left rear tail light is out, can I strap your wife to my bumper?
*Oh man, there was an accident out front and we don’t have enough road flares, would your wife mind standing out there for a while?
*Who needs Rudolph the Red nosed reindeer? Chris’ wife can guide Santa’s sleigh!
*Who does your wife work for? Crayola? Bozo the Clown? Ronald McDonald?
*Hey, Chris some of the lights went out on the Christmas tree, do you think your wife would mind standing by it while we take our pictures?

It was sooooo bad! [Yes, Sannorah, give me your email and I will send you the picture, and darn your evil laughter!] When my friend Sean saw me, he loved it, he thought it was amazing. He, however, is three and probably thought it was his birthday and I was the entertainment. I didn’t take his love for my hair, as a good sign. Chris came home and said it was fine. It wasn’t. Thank God I had a spare box of Soft Black hair dye. It now looks fabulous and I looked pretty good at the party. Hose me off, and put on a little make up, and I usually clean up alright. I looked a little tired because I hadn’t slept in 36 hours, but not scary in the least. If I ever get the internet back at home I will try so hard to put the pictures on here.

And now, I end with yet another dog story. Today we took our family Christmas pictures. Riley, (AKA Fat Ass) wore the Santa suit, the other three dogs Santa hats, Chris and I, Reindeer antlers. The Santa suit was great; you put the dog’s front legs into Santa’s legs then there are fake arms attached. It was hilarious, it took at least 20 shots to get one or two good ones. Some, a dog is all blurry and running out of the frame, others two or more of the dogs look drunk—Santa hats askew. At one point the Alpha dog, Xena just sighed, laid down and refused to get up again. She is in the pictures but she is obviously pissed off. All and all, there will be at least one good enough to put in our Christmas cards. Speaking of Fat Ass/Riley, we tied a jingle bell to her collar and now we can hear every time she starts eating. We are now trying to “distract and redirect” her towards more constructive/thinning activities. Like fetch… or water polo. It’s really not working too great. Ok, well I think we are all caught up. Did this take you like an hour to read? Did you drop your internet connection a bunch of times because your computer thought you’d walked away? What can I say I am nothing if not verbose. What do they call it? Oh yeah, verbal diarrhea…wait…EWWWWW!!!!


Friday, December 03, 2004

YOU, My Friends, "Get It"

I said to an acquaintance, "I wish this kid we are trying to make would just hurry up and get here. I've really come to despise the little brat." Blank stare. Mixed with horrified shock, and just a dash of "no wonder you're barren" thrown in for good measure. She had no concept that, this was my way protecting myself; cocooning my heartache in sarcasm. YOU know that I only say that, because laughter is more therapeutic than tears. YOU know that I already love the little "brat" more than myself. YOU know that when I say, "Dogs are better than kids because I can tie them to a tree in the back yard and go away for the weekend." That, first of all, I would never tie my dog to a tree, and I always get a pet sitter. Secondly, I yearn to be "saddled" with the "burden" of not being able to just get up and go and third, if the way I dote on my doggies is any indication of how I will be as a mom, then I will be nominated as PTA parent of the year, long about 2012. OK, I am done venting. Thank YOU.

Quick "Sean Story" then I have to get off the internet because, I got in a little bit of trouble for my internet usage. Well, more because because of said internet usage, they found 700 Spyware systems in our confidential police "intra-net." Anyway, I thought of the perfect way to convince Sean that police are better than firemen, (when my husband saw him dressed as a fireman for Halloween, he about choked). I took him to my job and an officer showed him all the different police cars and what they could do. And, yes he did like the neat flashing lights, but do you know what he really, really liked? Dispatch! He loved my job. Not only could we not tear him away from the radio console, where he would "talk" to the officers, we had to come back later, for more. I told him he could touch any of the buttons, (there are about fifty), except the red ones, they transmit over the air. When the officers would talk, I told him to say "Ten four" which he loved because he would often hear them say "Ten four" back and he thought they were talking to him. The microphone is on a long stalk and it creaks really loud when you move it up or down to adjust for you height. He looooved that. Finally his mom and I convinced him that we had errands to run nearby, but he kept insisting, "I have to go to work, at Rebeccas job. Come on, we need to go back, I have to go to work." So we returned and he "spoke" some more on the radio. Of course, I was delighted that he liked my job. I probably mentioned before, I have a closet FULL of police toys. They are a lot harder to find than you think. I have, police toys, Marine Corps toys and Mechanic toys so, some day I can say, "Look Liam/Shannyn, this is what Daddy does (or did)." I didn't have anything, for what Mommy did/does. I do have a sign language Barbie so that is cool, but unless I buy a doll, put bags under her eyes, friz out her hair, draw blisters on her feet and dress her in an unflattering uniform, I will not be able to say, "Look Liam/Shannyn, this was what Mommy used to be. What is this, you ask? Why it's Under-paid, Overworked Retail Barbie. Go ahead, yell at her, apparently it will make you feel better." Recently I found a Mobil toys Police Department set, which is soooooo cool to me because it has a police dispatcher center in it. Finally something I can show the kid, and be proud of. And the point to this whole story is that, until I saw Sean sitting there, mesmerized at the radio console, I really never thought my future kids would be interested in what Mommy does. I really thought Daddy would be there on career day and Daddy would be the one whose job was "cool." What can I say, it was really great. Now if the little brat would just hurry up and get here so I can show him/her...

Thursday, December 02, 2004

Yay Me!

I fixed my BLOG, all by my widdle sewf. Well that is all until tomorrow, I have to drastically reduce my internet time while at work and I used up all my time re-adding my Homies. Til later!

Saturday, November 27, 2004

I Killed My Beautiful BLOG. AKA Standby for Technical Difficulties

Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Look at my BLOG I killed it. I accidentally messed up the font and cut off my Title. I have submitted a request for help to "Blogger" I hope they can help. I knew I was computer retarded and yet I had to try to play around in the settings page. I hope they can fix it. I don't want to be "For the Pot to Boil." Waaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!

************************************************
Not to depress anyone, but here are just a couple of the lame ass things people did to one another this Thanksgiving Holiday:

Man crossing the street run over not once but twice. Both drivers fled the scene. Second driver still outstanding, first one did later call 911--FOR HERSELF. She got a piece of glass in her eye. She failed to mention to the EMTs that she got said piece of glass when the man she hit, broke her windshield with his body.

Officers, arrive at the scene of an apartment where neighbors smelled something "funny." Upon further investigation, elderly female, deceased, is discovered. This wouldn't be so bad, as it seemed to be from natural causes, except for the fact that her CARE giver had been walking around the dead body for a WEEK. Even though, to move about the house she had to climb over the body, she saw no reason to call the police.

Moral of the story; if you run over someone with your car, or the person entrusted to your care dies, for the love of Jumping Jehosephat, do something other than cramming your head up your arse. (Stepping down from soap box now.)

Thursday, November 25, 2004

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!!! (Updated)

Turkey calories don't stick, did you know that? At least that is what I am telling myself. The turkey wasn't the only one going "gobble gobble." I had to leave my Thanksgiving dinner before the turkey was done, to go to work. Poor, poor me. On a happier note, all the police officer's on tonight's shift chipped in and got a turkey dinner. They let me chip in too. Yay! I just want some turkey!
*****************
So, yesterday was the first day I was able to be romantic with my husband since the surgery. (Don't worry Mom the following is G-rated.) Note to self: If you are going to get all gussied up and set a romantic mood with candles.... Don't remove your husband's shirt, throw it across the room with oh so much finesse, only to have it land on one of said candles....Fwoomp! Sigh.
*****************
Well, good night! Hope you all had a wonderful day with family and are not stuck at work. Especially if being at work means you will be taking 911 domestic violence calls from families who, only see each other once a year and get into drunken brawls, all night long. (Wish I was kidding.)
*****************Updated 11/26/04***********************

I forgot to give answers from last time's movie quiz. Here are the answers:

1) Elf
2) Austin Powers
3) Naked Gun
4) Super Troopers
5) Ace Ventura Pet Detective
6) Airplane!
7) Tommy Boy
8) Hot Shots!
9) Monty Python and the Holy Grail
10) Anchorman

Sunday, November 21, 2004

Pokey the Puppy and a Plethora of Pointless Ponderables

Today began with me climbing bleary eyed into the shower, still wearing my socks and went downhill from there. I only got 4 hours of sleep. Better than yesterday because my motto has always been, "8 or more, or less than 4" when it comes to sleep. My theory is that if you get less than 4 hours sleep the ball is still rolling from the day before, so I feel OK. Today my belly button feels better, but the lower incision, (the one in my "fur" as Chris so eloquently put it), really hurts.
Note to self: If you are going to save time by putting on your shoes at work, because you are running late, don't forget your shoes. I am still at this moment, wearing argyle socks with leopard print slippers. Did I already tell you that I got pulled over by my own officers on my lunch break the other day. Totally embarrassing. And funny. Speaking of embarrassing/funny, I saw a "You might be a redneck if...." cartoon, and it said, "You might be a redneck if; when you slam on the brakes, four dogs hit the dashboard." Yikes. Mom I can hear, I told you so all the way from here.
Lately I have been reading Sean the "Pokey the Little Puppy" series. The one about Pokey and his 4 puppy siblings. (They are not named, in any of the books, but Sean swears their names are Hertzel, Turgel, Satchel and Nacho.) The other day we went to the dog park and there was this puppy that looked exactly like Pokey. Sean was so excited, "Becky, look it's Pokey the little puppy!" The owner, who must have had a heart of stone, said, "Her name isn't Pokey its Tibi. She is a Shar-Pei, Dachshund, Boxer mix." All snooty like. I wanted to say, "I hate to break it to you lady but that is a Beagle/Pitt mix." But whatever. I am kind of a connoisseur of dogs. I can almost always tell what mix, mutts are. I can also tell how old they are by their teeth and read their moods really well. Just call me the dog whisperer. I digress, so this lady didn't find Sean cute or charming, and she was really, really not amused when Sean cornered said puppy in the little dog yard. (Picture 10 feet by 6 feet of cordoned off chain link.) Her annoyance quickly took a turn for the worse when Sean slammed the gate to this area shut, so Tibi couldn't escape and proceeded to chase her around,in a circle, in the enclosure. This caused poor little "Pokey" to squeal like a little piggy, while Sean chased her yelling, "Get over here, Pokey!!! Now!!"

Where in the world is that Pokey little puppy?
There she is! Look at her run. Round and round the bench, goes Pokey.
Round and round, after Pokey, goes Sean.
Oh my, boy is Pokey's Mom mad!
Look how red her face is.
Goodnes, is that a vein popping out, on her forehead?
Uh-oh, Sean. Uh-oh, Pokey.
No strawberry shortcake for you, Sean!
No strawberry shortcake for you, Pokey!

The End

(If you've never read the Pokey the little puppy stories, I sound like a blathering idiot. Again.)

Pop quiz hot shots. If you can tell me what movies these quotes are from, you will win... well, nothing more than the satisfaction of knowing you are as addicted to cheesey movies, as I am. Sorry, I have nothing else to give. Here, we go, and Chris, you can't play because I know, you know every single one of these.

"It's just like Santa's workshop! Except it smells like mushrooms...and everyone looks like they wanna hurt me..."

"Allow myself to introduce........Myself."

"The truth hurts. Oh sure not as much as landing on a bicycle with the seat missing, but it hurts."

"The Schnozberries taste like Schnozberries!"

"Yes, Satan? I'm sorry I thought you were someone else."

"Looks like I picked the wrong day to stop sniffing glue."

"I'm like Jo Jo the dancing bear with his shiny new toy. Then I take it and I smash it!"

"You're giving me your lucky mole?"

"She turned me into a newt!!!................I got better." Hint: This said with British accent.

"What? I can't understand you... [to a barking dog] Baxter! You know I don't speak Spanish!"

OK. I actually have work to do now. I know, at work! Crazy. Good night!

P.S. I finally figured out how to link in the column to the left; if you regularly read my blog, and your blog is not there let me know, it is not an intentional snub. I am still working on my list. Also, there are many more that I read, but I only wanted to call, people "Homies" who I knew, had read/commented here. Would you like to be my homie? Also, coming soon... I figured out how to add pictures! You, are about to get inundated with poochie pictures.

Saturday, November 20, 2004

Oh Cruel Irony

So, my co-worker John and I traded an hour today. I got to come in at 8 pm instead of 7 pm, thus earning myself an extra hour and a half of sleep due to no more traffic. Then today I will stay until 8 AM for him. I was so exhausted when I got home yesterday, I thought I would sleep soundly until the alarm went off at 6:20 PM. Ha Ha Ha Ha. No. I woke up, BOING wide awake at 3 PM. Are you kidding me? Normally I wouldn't even have to wake up until 5 PM! So, I tried to go back to sleep, I tried everything. Usually when my thoughts won't stop racing, all I have to do is write down whatever is on my mind and then I can sleep. Two pages later, still thinking. I tried every trick in the book. I counted backwards, I meditated, I visualized, but try as I might my inner monologue would not, no matter what, shut the H$%# off. Come, gentle readers, enter with me, deep into my warped little mind, see what agony I endured. We join my thought process already in progress:

I have got to fall asleep or I am going to be so sorry tonight, long about 2 AM. Sleep. Sleep. Sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. S-L-E-E-P. Pee. Do I have to pee? Maybe a little. If I get up right now, even if I don't really have to, then I can probably sleep better later. But if I get up right now, I'll really, really wake up, then I might never get back to sleep. I'll wait. Wait. Waaaaaaaaaaaaait. Wait wait-bo-bait banana-nana--Cut it out! Wow, that bird, right outside my window, sounds like it's saying "Mine, mine" That's weird. I've got to relax. Relax, relax, relaaaaaaaax. Relax. Relax, (humming) go to it, when you want to go do it, relax, go do it, when you wanna goooo. I think that's a Duran Duran song. From like the eighties. Holy cow, the eighties. Eighty. (At this point I counted back slowly from 80.) Well, that didn't work. At. All, aaaallllll A-L-L. Do they still make A-L-L laundry detergent? (Singing) Mama, keeps the clothes bright like the summer, Mama's got the magic of Clorox bleach. Great, now I am singing commercials. [Mine, mine, mine] Oh that stupid bird. Shut up bird! Bird, bird, flippin the bird. Bye-bye birdie. Bird on a Wire. That was a funny movie. Who was in that...Goldie Hawn and........Mel Gibson! Meeeeelll Giiiibsoooon. I liked Braveheart a lot. Lethal Weapon, too. Lethal Weapon 4? Not so much. Gotta quit while you're ahead. Ahead. Head, head head. Riley is such a meat head. Speaking of Riley and meat, note to self: just because the Pup-eroni sticks, smelled exactly like Slim Jims, does not mean it was rational to think they would taste like Slim Jims. And the fact that I hadn't eaten all day, did not justify me sampling the dog treats. What was I thinking anyway, that was nasty. And stupid. Stupid, stooooooopid. Gotta get to sleep. S-L-E-E---wait, not going to go down that path again. Geez. What else can I do? I'll try deep breathing. In, out. In, out. Innnn and oouuut, In and out. In and out, that's what a hambuger's all about. Oh! I keep forgetting to buy stamps. Stamps. Stamps. Don't forget the stamps. StampsStampsStampsStamps. My belly button hurts. Hurts like a mo-fo. Got glue in my belly. Bellybellybellybellybelly. Belly. I pulled the strangest thing out of my belly button today. It was like--you know what I am going to stop myself right there. I am not even interested in the rest of that thought. I have to sleep! What else can I try. Pretend you are melting into the bed. Your limbs and extremities are melting, melting. "I'm melting, melting! I'll get you, my pretty and your"--stop it. Melting, melting, oh, I need to remember to pick up some hot chocolate on the way to work. 7-11 or Starbucks though? 7-11 is better but Starbucks is closer and I can get a pumpkin scone. Pumpkin. Officer Nick said "punkin", on the air, the other day. That was funny. That reminds me, I wonder when Jamba Juice will start serving their Pumpkin Smash. Yummy. Like pumpkin pie in a cup. Hmmm, described like that, it doesn't sound so good. But it is. If I could just keep my mind blank. Blank. Blank. Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaank. Like a blank check. Oh, I have to remember to pay the Metro bill. Can't do that without the stamps. I know I am going to forget the stamps. StampsStampsStampsStampsStamps. OK, if I go to Albertson's and get store-bought Frappaccinos instead of hot chocolate, then not only can I get some Advil for my belly-button, I'll save time and I can buy stamps. Stamps! And maybe some OPKs. But only if they are on sale because we aren't trying this month. Gotta wait 2 weeks. 2 weeks. Well, it has been 10 days. I could test and then, only then, if it is positive, maybe we could... I think it's been long enough. 10 days is almost the same as 14 days, right? What's the worst that could happen (mental image of the worst that could happen.) OK then. 2 weeks it is. 2 weeks. Aaaaaahhhhh. I think I finally feel relaxed. Ready to go to... Zzzzzzzzz [Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!] You have got to be kidding me, I just barely closed my eyes!!!!!!!

And so here I sit, at work, at 5 in the morning, very tired. Tonight, I,m drinking a fifth of something or taking Nytol. Nytol will help you get your zzzzz's--Argh, now don't you start that again!

PS Make sure you enlarge the image, and zoom in, (and Chris ignore the price), and check out the dress I ordered online for the CHP Christmas dance. Va va va voom!

Friday, November 19, 2004

My Belly-Button Has Declared War on Me

**Very loooonng post. I have over a week of "catching up." Please, grab a cup of coffee, splash some cold water on your face, and join me. I understand if half way through you feel the need to jog around the block and do some brief stretches. Let us begin:

My belly-button--it hurts!!!! Not bad-enough-to-call-the-doctor hurts, just annoying-cut-it-out-already hurts. It feels like I did a hundred sit-ups, but I have no six pack abs to show for it. I have soooooooo much to say, where do I begin? My Lap, went really well. Doc H found endometriosis and burned it away. He says my uterus looks beautiful, (stop I'm blushing) and he did a hydro-chromo-tubation, which is like a mini-HSG, and he says the dye flew through my tubes, no problem. Can I just say I love this man for doing that procedure? Remember my insurance wouldn't cover the HSG so he said, if I did a Lap, he would "sneak" that in there. He kept telling me to remind him, because he doesn't normally do them during Laps. I reminded him the day before, and he had forgotten. So I called him into admitting on the day of, "Oh, yes, thank you for reminding me, I had forgotten." Chris wanted to write it on my belly in magic marker, but I thought that was just plain pushy. I didn't want to nag. I used a ball point pen instead--much more discreet, and it washed off easier. Speaking of washing things off easily.... If you have not yet had a laproscopy, but do one day in the future, allow me to give you some advice. That glue that holds your incisions together? Don't scrub that off. And if you decide you must, don't for the love of God, intentionally pull it off. Just because it can come off doesn't mean it should. Trust me. Learn from my mistakes. Moving right along, when I came out of surgery, Dr. H said not only was it a complete success, he thinks I should get pregnant in no time. Let me tell you why that frightens me. He has never been optimistic before. Never. He has always been vague and careful. Guarded and cautious. This unrestrained confidence, terrified me. I am going to remain skeptical. It's safer. Besides, I was kind of hoping for IUI. With Chris and my backwards schedules, we have more of a chance of me and a cup alone in a room together than he and I--any time soon. Speaking of which, like the finely tuned machine, my body is, I can tell I am ovulating. We aren't allowed to rendezvous until next week. Sigh. What a waste. We will begin trying again, "what-ever-happens-happens" in December and then insane-o with new and renewed vigor, as if starting all over again, fresh, in January. You heard it here folks, there will be OPKs bought, temperatures taken, headstands stood, nookie with passion-less abandon, wait that last one sounded wrong. Accurate, but wrong.... Anyway, you get the point. TTC is back in the house!!!!! Coming soon to a household near you!

And now some interesting (to me) things that have either happened or been on my mind this past week. Very random and in no particular order or relevance. Oh, how I missed my sweet, sweet BLOG.
**Today I found out my friend "S" has gone off the pill. She and her husband.. oh screw it, her name is Sarah and his name is Doug, its not like I told them about this BLOG-- Anyway, they announced that they have begun trying this month. Oh the nerve.They already have Derek who is 4. He was an "Oops" so I have no doubt she will be pregnant, after he breathes on her, and forgive me Lord but, I am already bitter--and I just found out hours ago. I'll be a raving lunatic by the time she conceives...next month. You get the point.
**Yesterday I saw my friend "D"s little boy, Trevor. Or shall I say, "Tomato Boy" or perhaps "Tank." He is one big round boy! And when he cries he gets all red like a tomato. He is already three months old now, can you believe it!! He is humongus. He dwarfs my friend B's 4 1/2 month old [seriously, B, no "dye pack" here]. I swear his head is the size of a large honeydew melon. I sniffed him. It was a wasted sniff but I did it anyway, just in case. "D" calls him mullet head. You know the hairdo part short, part long--business up front, party in the back.
**While I was laid up in bed this past week, Chris called in the entire time off, and pampered me. I got home cooked meals, any movies I wanted, hot chocolate daily and he even tucked me in.
** These are the movies that I watched this week: Elf,(****(4 stars))"Cotton headed ninny muggins!!!!" The Chronicles of Riddick, (*) Shrek 2, (****) 13 Going on 30, (****) Frakenfish,
(-*** I don't know what I was thinking. I am going to chalk that one up to the Darvocet) The Clearing(*1/2), The Stepford Wives (**1/2), Van Helsing (worse than Frakenfish. Yes, that bad.), Home on the Range, I watched this one under duress. Chris loves cartoons. I only like certain ones like ones done by Pixar or the Shrek-type.
**These are the CDs I bought: Breaking Benjamin, Perfect Circle, Flogging Molly, Papa Roach, Crossfade.
**As I said in my last post, Sean is going through a "Train Phase" so Chris and I bought him a new Thomas the Train pop-up book. We both went over to hand deliver it and Sean loved it. He yelled, "Wow! Trains! Thanks Chris!!!" Much to Chris' delight and my chagrin. Thank God we ended up buying the one that was only five pages long, because I swear I have read that thing to him at least ten times. He takes it everywhere. That day he "made" each of us take turns reading it to him. I loved it when it was Chris' turn. Got me a bit misty eyed, that did.
**I have decided I will not write a BLOG entry on my opinions, politically speaking. I was going to but I have decided: no political insights here. Nor, I have decided am I going to "let" Chris do an entry on his views, though he is welcome to in the comments section if he chooses.
**Took my adorable Pitt Bull puppy to the vet for her booster shots. Or should I say my Fatt Bull. "Your dog is 10-15 pounds over weight." Ah, just like her Mom, sniff, sniff. She weighs in at a hefty 70 #s. Let me share with you her current nicknames: Fat Ass, Snausages, Lil Porker, Holstein, Fattie. She is so cute though! Sean was sitting on the floor last night and she backed up and then sat in his lap! She is at easily 2 times bigger than him and weighs at least twice as much. It was hilarious, Sean just looked confused. Luckily she is very "front heavy" so he wasn't flattened or injured in anyway. She adores him, even when the game was, "Bury Riley under a stack of UNO cards and then jump on her" She loves him so much.
**I've been meaning to note, when I say OMG, for me that means Oh-my-gosh. And when I say things like "WTF?" or "f*&%ing" I must blame this on my 10th grade religion teacher, who taught me, "Cussing is not a sin, it's just vulgar." As a Christian, I try not to sin. But hey, I can live with being a little "vulgar" from time to time.
**I got the last of my layers cut off and I now have a really cute all one length hair cut. Kind of a long bob. Next I am going to dye it from light brown with a blonde streak, that it is now, to dark brown with a fire engine red streak. So, when I got my hair cut, the nice Asian lady said. "You need your eyebrow done" (I am going to hope that was a language barrier...) So I said, if you've got the time, I've got the money, and a beautiful relationship was born. My eyebrows look fantastic! I will even forgive her comment, of "You aw one a ha-wy woman." No, I am just Portuguese. I made her laugh, despite our language differences. She said, "You come back in two week or so, I do again." I said, "You don't know me--I'll see you in a few days."

And finally in closing, I leave you with another funny "Sean Story." The following exchange took place out of my line of view, so I, like you had only the words to go on. Allow me to set the scene. Me, laying on the couch feeling sore. Alicia (Sean's mom) sitting across from me. Chris, cooking at the stove one room over, Sean one room farther than the kitchen, using the bathroom, (still a new skill, Chris later told me, "His dad needs to take him back to the firing range and work on his aim.")

Sean: Chris, what are you cooking?
Chris: Whoa, little man you need to pull your pants up.
Sean: I can't, (keeps walking into the kitchen)
Chris: At least pull up your underpants, there's food in here.
Sean: (grunt) Its not working! Mooooooom! I can't get my pants up!
Alicia: Uh-oh, wardrobe malfunction. Coming Sean! ( She quickly enters the kitchen to help, Chris returns to the stove, his back to Alicia and Sean.)
Sean: Hey, Chris, look! There are two balls here!!!
Chris: Say whaaaatt!?!?!!?!?
Alicia: Very good Sean, that's right, there are two TENNIS balls in Xena's food bowl. She must have left them in there to play with later.
Chris: Oh thank God.

And now we are all caught up. It is now 5:30 AM and I only have an hour and a half to go. I am sooooooooooooooooooo sleepy! Good Night All! Mwah!

Thursday, November 18, 2004

No, As a Matter of Fact, I DON'T Want to Sniff Your Coal Box....

I adore, my little buddy Sean. He is the smartest three year old I have ever met. However, he is going through a bit of an odd phase right now. You see, he is a train. His name is Thomas the Train, do not make the mistake of calling him Sean or you will be smote down (smite? smitten? whatever-don't do it.) The following conversation took place at the dog park, on a bench, near an old lady and her ancient poodle, Poindexter.

Sean: Becky would you like to sniff my coal box?
Me: Um, I don't know Sean where is your coal box located?
Sean: Right here. (Proceeds to point at his bottom)
Me: You know what? I really don't want to sniff that. Bet there are a whole bunch of dogs here, though that wouldn't mind sniffing your coal box...
Sean: Why won't you?
Me: Tell you what, if you remove the coal box and place it somewhere else, more appropriate, like your hand, I would be happy to sniff it, until then I am pretty sure it's illegal.

I can only imagine what that sweet little old lady was thinking.

Friday, November 12, 2004

O' Little Darvocet So Brave and True

I can't write right now, I counting on becoming high as a kite. I had my Lap and I am in quite a bit of pain. I will write later when I can focus on the screen. Bye!

Saturday, November 06, 2004

Red; It's Not Just for Communists Anymore!

My human sexuality instructor in college, said, as women, we should embrace our men-stroo-ation. (She said it just like that.) During our men-stroo-ation, we should light red candles, drink red wine, wear all red and take baths colored with red food dye. (Wouldn't that dye your skin......nevermind.) She also was admittedly in the middle of a nasty divorce in which, I think, her husband ran off with a much younger woman. Don't know if that was relevant at all, but she seemed to think so and mentioned it during every lesson. I digress, I was thinking of good ol "Red" and I suddenly realized; getting your period is a lot like going to the dentist. Often it hurts, it's always uncomfortable, you hate it, but know it is necessary. You want to put it off as long as possible but ultimately it's inevitable. When it's done you feel cleansed and relieved to have gotten it over with. This got me thinking. This is the first time I ever longed for "it" to come. That means all along I have been hating "it." Poor little Red, so despised and dreaded. So today, I salute you, old nemisis. In a interpretive monologue, I have entitled "I Raise my Glass to you":

Hello, my worst enemy, where have you been? Yes I am talking to you. Yes I know I usually cry and curse and swear and yell at you. But today, I wanted to mend the fences and tell you, thank you. Thank you for showing up in the eleventh hour. I even forgive you for being so late. I'm also pleasantly surprised your friends Horrifying Cramps and Lower Back Pain decided to join us. Welcome. Every pang reminds me I am back on schedule. Every agonizing sharp stabbing pain, lets me know Wednesday is still the big day. I loved spending my lunch money on heating pads, feminine products and extra strength advil, today, even though I was hungry and wanted to eat. I don't even mind that you came in the middle of my work shift. I really am glad you are here. Thank you. Come, stay a while. A short while. In fact you better be gone by Monday or so help me God...In fact, speaking of gone, you look tired. I think you need a vacation. How 'bout you take the next few months off? Specifically the next nine months...The End

Friday, November 05, 2004

Smacked Upside the Head by the Hand of God

OK, I wanted to write this yesterday but my work computer wouldn't let me have both the internet and the 911 screen up at the same time. As much as I wanted to be online, I fully realize that saving lives takes priority:) So part of the reason, I knew I was infertile is because my body is a well working, finely tuned machine. Day 14 ovulate. Day 28 period. This is why I was able to plan the laproscopy a month ago. Today is day THIRTY THREE. For me that's huge. And again, not pregnant, (not that I am not thinking that every other second.) My thought pattern goes like this: Bleed damn it, or don't if I am pregnant....Bleed damn it or don't I am pregnant --in an endless loop. The first thing one may think is, I am stressing myself out and causing the delay. True, but my body normally doesn't react to stress by delaying my period. I am so used to running to the bathroom at this time of the month and praying, "Please God, no blood......." Then I look. Totally opposite this month. This is the FIRST time since starting TTC I have wanted this and it is weird. It is also ironic. OK God, I get it. Lesson learned. Joke's on me. I always want what I want, when I want it and this whole infertility is the only thing that is just not handed to me. Boy oh boy this is a lesson in futility. I am one of the most impatient people I know! On a brighter note, my boss was totally cool about it, here is her response:

Becky,
We'll work around it, so don't worry about it. I hope your Dad has a speedy recovery. You can leave me a voice mail over the weekend and I'll be sure to call in for messages. If it has to be postponed, we'll just call off the people scheduled next week and see if they can work the following week. Take care and try not to stress out too much!

Isn't that great? And speaking of my dad he is doing great too. Came out of surgery fine and is already home. Well, I am done ranting. 'Night.

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

America Has Spoken.

Normally I choose not to include politics on my BLOG. I already cover sex and religion though, so today I'll throw caution to the wind and briefly touch on politics. Very briefly. I am a Conservative Independent, I am in the minority as far as IF Bloggers go, but that is what is so wonderful about America, we are FREE to disagree. I have not gloated for one single second, and I truly hope GWB does not let us all down, he has a HUGE responsibility. I feel Horkin Ramblins said it better than I ever could, so that's all that I feel is needed on that topic.

So where, oh where, did my dear aunt flo go? It is over due and if it doesn't hurry up, I will have to postpone my upcoming laproscopy. Nooooooooooo!!!!!!! I said to myself, wouldn't it be great if instead of having the surgery and also for a 29th B-Day present, I was pregnant??? No such luck, it's just MIA (yes I caved and tested).... It would be awkward explaining to my boss and it's really hard to find shift coverage for graves. I couldn't sleep last night I was so over-wrought. What with my dad's surgery, (he's fine), my husbands medical issues, (not so great) and now, my period drama. I called up my FIL who has had a heart attack. I said, "Dad if you need to have any health problems, I need you to put them off until at least January, because I'm already filled up on familyl emergencies right now." He said, he'd see what he could do. Last night as I was worrying, I suddenly heard a very calm voice in my head, that said, "It will start Nov. 4th." Then I was finally able to sleep. Only time will tell if this was the hand of God, or early symptoms of schizophrenia...

My dogs are completely freaking out over this thunderstorm. Three of them made a dogpile (Ha Ha Ha) right in front of the shower, just to be near me. They were shaking and shivering like crazy. Two of them were genuinely terrified, and the third one, Riley, saw the other two and just decided to join in. You can't really blame them, what with their history with storms and all. About 4 years ago, when we lived in the 29 Palms desert, there was a thunder/lightening storm. Chris and I were at work, the dogs (Riley wasn't even born yet) were in the backyard. I wasn't really concerned about them because although they weren't allowed in the house when we were gone, they had an entire laundry room to stay warm and dry in. Back then, our friend Scott, would drive by our house and check on the dogs when we were working long hours. He called us at work and said, "Lightening struck the tree in your back yard, it's on fire!" Chris sped home, by then the tree was no longer on fire but it was completely spit in half from top to bottom by the lightening. Chris ran through the house and opened the laundry door; the dogs were literally piled three high against the door and they all fell into the house, relieved. So now, they don't do so good with thunder/lightening storms! They are on my mind today, I am glad their Daddy has the day off to "protect" them from the evil thunder.

And now, without further ado:

THE FINAL INSTALLMENT OF THINGS MY DOGS MUST LEARN:

1. I will not beg for food, my human knows I hate, and then spit it out onto the floor when my human gives in and gives me some.
2. I will not suddenly stare right above/past my human's head with huge saucer eyes and an alarmed look on my on my face, only to act completely normal when she turns back around to look at me. I know there was never anything there, in the first place. Note: This is especially bad when she is reading a Stephen King book late at night.
3. I will not get a mouthful of kibble and dribble it all across the kitchen, dining room, and living room floor, just so my human (who is watching TV in the living room) can watch me eat. Suprisingly, watching me eat is not high on her list of priorities.
4. Even if I close my eyes and inch forward, opening my mouth in slow motion--my human will still see me trying to steal the pizza in her hand.
5. I will not lick or steal raw chicken from the grill while my human is not looking.
6. I will not steal a loaf of bread, and then run around the house with it while my human chases after me. Try as I might I can never manage to inhale the whole thing by the time she catches up to me.
7. If my human ignores me and doesn't share her bacon, I will not reach over and gently tap her arm to remind her of my presence.
8. I will not raid the bathroom garbage can for tissues and chew them up, leaving small moist rolled-up tissue balls all over the house.
9. When my human yells at me to stop barking I will not wait 2 seconds and then quietly bark, once under my breath, just to get in the last word.
10. I will not seek out my human, only to walk up close to her and burp, I can do this alone.
11. When I am allowed to be in the car I will not insist upon sitting on my human's lap while she is driving, I am very large and she can't see out the front windshield.
12. I will not chase the broom every time my human sweeps and when asked to cut it out, I won't lay down right in the middle of the dust pile she is trying to sweep up! If I do this and get scolded I will not walk off in a huff, covered in swept hairballs.
13. I will not stare at my doggie sister and make mournful "heruhmmmm" sounds and wiggle franticly until she get out of her bed, only to repeat the whole process when she chooses her new bed. ( I have SEEN my Pitt puppy do this up to 4 times in a row!)
14. I will not walk through the open newspaper to gain my human's undivided attention as she is reading it while sitting on the floor.
15. I will never again, run out into the middle of a college boys game of football and take a huge poop, causing the entire game to come to a complete stop, while all the players wait and watch as my human embarrassedly picks up my poop. (Totally mortifying. And no one laughed at my lame joke about this being "off sides" either.)
16. When my human is tying her shoes I do not always have to run over and chase the shoelaces, this never helps... really.
17. When I do something bad and my human tries to lightly smack me on the nose, I will not skillfully dodge her hand so she ends up smacking air over and over again. It just makes her more angry.
18. I will not seek out my human anymore when I feel a huge sneeze coming on just so I can "share" with them.
19. Despite popular canine thought, the mail man is not the anti-Christ
20. We all four don't have to run to the front door and line up expectantly every time a large Dodge truck drives by. It's not always Dad and it makes Mom feel bad, when we get disappointed.
21. I will not throw my 85 pound body dramatically to the floor when my human briefly stops paying attention to me. Her laughter is not my desired effect anyway.
22. I won't nip at my dad's bum when we are trail running just because I want him to go faster, I have to remember I have twice as many legs as he does, he can't go as fastas me.
23. I will not give my human's entire outfit the third degree every time he comes home. (Xs 4)
24. I will not head butt my humans, I am a block headed pitt bull and it hurts them.
25. I will stop eating the "Almond Rocca" from the kitty litter box.
26. I will not pace back and forth whining when my humans are at opposite ends of the house. It's ok for them to not be in the same room sometimes.
27. I will not sit between my humans and paw at the one that stops petting me. It's ok if everyone in the room is not petting me at the same time.
28. I will not run through a field of jumping cacti and if I do I will sit still so my human can remove them without injuring themselves.
29. I will not chase after the small children on Halloween in my vampire costume even though my cape billowing behind me looked pretty cool.
30. I will not kiss my human and make incredibly adorable faces when she is scolding me. She needs to be able to stay mad at me for more than 2 seconds.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

I Too Once Ran for Office

In honor of election day I will share with you, my earliest election memory. I was in the eighth grade and I ran for student body Vice President. I was a gawky, brace-faced, gangly, WHITE girl but I got my friend John to do the "beat-box" and I rapped. I know it's insane, but here, in all of it's glory is that rap:

My name is Becky B, please vote for me,
I'm the best Vice President you'll ever see.
I got the brains and the talent too, I wanna share
my ideas with you.

When you're around me you'll have lots of fun,
'cause Becky B. is number one!

I'm only gonna say this one more time:
Becky B. for V.P. in '89!

And I won! Cheney and Edwards eat your hearts out!

Monday, November 01, 2004

For Everything Else........

How much I have spent so far on OPKs...................................$300.00

On wasted pregnancy tests........................................................$400.00

Total cost of RE appointments...................................................$500.00

Complete wastes, IE. saliva predictors, BBTs, charts etc......$150.00

Upcoming Laproscopy................................................................$1000.00

Cost of progesterone, Clomid and various other drugs..........$800.00

Cost of 3 IUIs...............................................................................$450.00

Projected cost of multiple IVFs..................................................$18,000

The fact that despite all this, I still may never get pregnant?.......................

PRICELESS

Sunday, October 31, 2004

Things I Have Been in Halloweens Past

A native American girl
Princess Leia
A fairy princess
A cat
A witch
A can-can girl
A marshmallow
A birthday present
A bunny
Morticia Adamms
Ophelia--after she drowned
A French maid
A 1920's gangster
A blue sequined nun
A bumble bee
Mary Catherine Gallagher (Super Star!)
Little Red Riding Hood

And this year...... A-29-year-old-who-has-no-plans-because-everyone-is-working-so-I-will-sit-at-home-alone-and-feel-sorry-for-myself-because-I-sure-as-Hell-am-not-opening-the-door-in-my-neighborhood-where-if-the-kids-don't-rob-me-they-will-be-all-grabby-and-that-would-piss-me-off-and-it's-my-birthday-so-I-don't-have-to-give-out-candy-if-I-don't-feel-like-it-so-there.

Pretty original one this year, huh? Sigh.

Saturday, October 30, 2004

The Lost Art of "Holding It"

Sometimes at my job, I have to "hold it" for hours, until someone relieves me (so I can relieve myself--HA!) It has gotten to the point, that I find myself accidentally "holding it" at home, at leisure, when visiting friends. It's really kind of sad. I remember a time when peeing was a right, not a privilege. Do you think it would be inappropriate if I began wearing Depends to work? Just to make my officers feel guilty and uncomfortable--when they come into the dispatch room to get their paperwork, I could stop mid-sentence, get a kind of glazed look in my eyes, while staring off into the distance, then say, "Ahhhhhh, I feel much better now. I'm sorry. What was I saying?" Hmm..Maybe not.

And now, some "cop jokes"

Q: How many police officers does it take to push a suspect down a flight of stairs?
A: None. He fell.

LAPD OFFICER: "We arrested this man beating the living daylights out of some poor slob for no reason at all! What should we charge him with?"
DESK SERGEANT: "Impersonating an Officer."

What did the peanut say when it entered the police station? I've been a-salted!

Q: How many cops does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Just one, but he is never around when you need him.

What do you call a clairvoyant midget who escaped from prison?A small medium at large.

A policeman stops a lady and asks for her license. He says "Lady, it says here that you should be wearing glasses."The woman answered "Well, I have contacts."The policeman replied "I don't care who you know! You're getting a ticket!"

A state trooper pulls over a car for speeding and the female driver says "I guess you want to sell me some tickets to the Trooper's Ball?" The trooper responded, "Troopers don't have balls, ma'am." After he realized what he said, he simply walked back to his car and drove away.

A cop got out of his car and the kid, that was stopped for speeding, rolled down his window."I've been waiting for you all day," the cop said.The guy replied, "Yeah, well I got here as fast as I could." When the cop finally stopped laughing, he sent the kid on his way without a ticket.

A policeman spots a woman driving and knitting at the same time. Driving up beside her, he shouts out the window... "Pull over!""No," she shouts back, "It's a pair of socks!"

All right, I'll stop the torture. BTW. While I was writing this, I choked on a Milky Way. Who am I supposed to call when I need help? If I called 911--I would have just got myself! Makes you think doesn't it? A final joke and 'Night!

Friday, October 29, 2004

Would Someone Please Remove Marilyn Monroe From Atop the Bar!!!

I went to a fun Halloween party last night. I had 2 kamikazes. I however did not feel the need to heft my drunk ass onto the bar and do a "pole dance" sans pole... So after pounding back a few, "Marilyn" stumbles up onto the bar when "Pour Some Sugar on Me" begins playing. As if that wasn't bad enough, she stayed up there the entire song--and it's a really long song. Nothing against this version of Marilyn Monroe but she was at least a 36 GG (if anything that is an under-exaggeration) and she was severely exceeding the weight limit on the top part of her white halter dress. It was a low ceiling and Chris and I were praying she would knock herself out, on it and put everyone out of their misery. You know it's bad when you do a sexy dance and people are trying to talk you down like you're a suicidal person on a bridge. "It's OK. Come on down. We are here to help. Don't look down! You're going to be fine, but for the love of God, come down before you hurt yourself!" Last I saw her, she was puking and crying behind the barn that the party was held in. Oooh a fun drunk! So let me share with you some other highlights from last nights festivities. Chris and I took half a role of film on the party host's dog. Her little black Pitt bull was dressed as a honey bee! There was this big rectangular block of ice (about 2 feet by 4 feet) that someone took a blow torch to, and cut a zig zag line into it. It was tilted at a 45 degree, then someone would go to the top and poor jagermeister down it, to the person waiting with their mouth open at the bottom of it. Kind of like a really elaborate, hard liquor "beer bong." Chris' (police) partner "V", repeatedly picked up various people and swung them around on his shoulders (he's a big guy 6'4"-220). The more intoxicated he got, the more precarious the swinging became. I kept saying, this will only end in tears. Then he got slap-happy, swatting fellow revilers on the bum and man-handling my husbands pectoral region. V then got sloppy drunk and smacked an innocent male bystander in the "that which shall not be named" region, an event which did in fact end in tears. Not long after this, the host started shuting off lights and closing doors, the universal symbol for "the party is over now get the @#$% out of here" at about 4 am. Guess where the party relocated to? Yup, Chris and my hotel room. Finally at about 5:30 AM we convinced all, to move down the hall to someone else's room, (in a hotel room, shutting out the lights as a hint--is just blatantly rude). But not before one of the female party goers proceeded to lock herself in our bathroom, crying and refusing to come out. Joy! My highlight of the evening was that the hotel room had a whirlpool tub and I had a wonderfully relaxing bubble bath. Aaaaahhhhh!!! Calgon took me away.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

I Just Called to Ask--What's the Number for 911?

My friend "B" a fellow dispatcher, wrote a post on her Blog about some of the funnier 911 calls she had received. And it inspired me to "jot" down a few of my own. The following calls are real calls I have taken.

Me: 911 what's your emergency?
Caller: I'm at McDonalds and they charged me for water!!!!
Me: Sir, this is not an emergency.
Caller: Yes it it! It's water! Send a police officer to tell them they
can't do that!

Me: 911 what's your emergency?
Caller: Send someone quick, there is a raccoon in my backyard!
Me: Are you aware you've dialed the police emergency line?
Caller: This is an emergency!!!!!
Me: OK, tell me why.
Caller: Because it's day time!
Me: And?
Caller: raccoon's only come at night, please hurry!

Me: 911 what's your emergency?
Caller: I just bought cocaine from this one guy and when I tried it,
it turns out it's baby powder. I want this guy arrested.
Me: So you are admitting to me, on a recorded line that you attempted to buy drugs?
Caller: Yeah.
Me: Sir, think about this, do you really want the police officer to know what you were trying to do?
Caller: Oh, yeah....hee hee hee...nevermind (click)

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: My toilet is making weird gurgling noises.
Me: Ma'am, what is the emergency?
Caller: You should hear this--(holds phone up to toilet which is indeed making sounds.) What should I do?
Me: Please call a plumber.

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: You know that little girl who is missing?
Me: Yes, do you have information on her whereabouts?
Caller: I think I saw her playing little orphan Annie in a play I saw tonight.

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: I didn't dial 911.
Me: Yes you did, do you have an emergency?
Caller: No I didn't call.
Me: Sir, we don't make random house checks, are you ok?
Caller: (Sulking) Yeah. (Under his breath)...but I didn't call 911.

Me: 911 emergency
Caller: Yeah, um I ate a lollipop, it wasn't wrapped and it was covered in fuzz and now I don't feel too good.
Me: Let me transfer you to medics.

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: Hi, I'd like to ask about my phone bill.
Me: You need to hang up and dial 411, this is 911 for emergencies.
Caller: Oooohh. Ok....Well can you help me when my bill anyway?

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: I left the iron on at my house, can you please send a police officer out to shut it off?
Me: No.

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: My chihuahua is missing out of the garage, all that is left is his sweater!
Me: Please call back on the business line.
(But what I wanted to say) Me: Sir, your chihuahua ran away from home, because you make him wear stupid outfits and he is sick of the other dogs making fun of him.

Me: 911 emergency
Caller: Yeah, I paid this escort to come over and, you know, but she took all of my money. Also, she was supposed to look like a little school girl but she didn't.
Me: I'll send an officer over and you can explain it. Don't forget to tell him about why she
was there, in the first place, Ok?
Caller: Oh, Ok.

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller:I don't feel safe, can I come where you are?
Me: Do you need me to send you an Officer?
Caller: No but if I could just lay down on the floor, near where you are, like with a sleeping bag or something,I'd feel a lot better, Ok?
Me: I'm sorry, it doesn't work like that.

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: There is a deer in my yard.
Me: What is the emergency? Is the deer injured?
Caller: No, he looks very peaceful, I just don't want him here.

Me: 911 emergency..
Caller: Some one's been in my house while I was gone!
Me: So there was a burglar in your house?
Caller: No, someone just shaved and left whiskers all in the sink.
Me: Oh...

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: Send someone quick, there is a police officer driving in front of me and I think he's drunk
Me: Why do you think that?
Caller: He is swerving from one lane to the next and then back again, he's definitely drunk.
Me: Ma'am that's called a traffic break, he is trying to stop traffic.
(silence)
Caller: Oh.

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: Come quick, its road rage!
Me: (after getting all important info) what did the person confronting you look like?
Caller: Female, white, like 4 feet tall.
Me: So my officer knows which person is you, give me a brief description of yourself.
Caller: I am male, 6'5 250.
Me:........Ok, then, we're on the way.
Caller: Ok, but hurry she's really mad.

Me: 911 emergency
Caller: Your police radios are beaming lasers right into my brain and I'd like you to cut it out!
Me: Hmmm...Ok let me send you an officer.
Caller: No thanks just tell them to stop it so I can get some sleep. Good night.
Me: Good night...

Me: 911 emergency
Caller: Someone stole my baptismal!
Me: Is that something that can be stolen?
Caller: Yes! My inner child wants it back!

Me: 911 emergency.
Caller: (Elderly female) Hello dear, I fell down, I'm not hurt but I need you to send me an officer to help me up.
Me: Ok, I'm sending you help.
Caller: Go ahead and send me two big handsome fellas!
Me: I'll see what I can do...

Did I mention, I love my job?

Saturday, October 23, 2004

Things My Dogs Learn Part Deux

But first, THE COUNTDOWN. Only 7 more days until I begin my last year as a twenty-something. 10 days 'til election day, (I already wrote that post, I am just saving it in "storage":I have a special treat for y'all), 17 days until my laproscopy, 5 days til a fun Halloween costume party, 8 days until AF... wait a second... 7 days till, B-day.....8 days till AF. Wow this could be the best birthday ever--miracle pregnancy--or I could be curled up in a ball, praying for unconsciousness, I know which one has my vote! I finally got my Little Red Riding Hood costume in the mail and it is completely different than the picture. Only, this time that is a good thing because it is a lot cuter. I was writing down stuff in my day planner and I found a note I had forgotten I wrote. On Oct. 31st I wrote, "You're 29, are you pregnant yet?" I wrote that back when I first got the planner, back when I was still blissfully ignorant. Well, the October Me, scribbled it out and gave the December Me the finger. Speaking of me deserving the finger, I said something really hurtful to Chris today. I didn't mean it to come out so harsh, but it did and I really hurt his feelings. I said sorry, but I wish I could take it back. I can be a total dumbass, sometimes. Maybe it would smooth things over if I got him a concubine. Especially if we got a concubine who cooked and cleaned.

And now for my second installment of what my dogs need to learn:

1. I will not roll my humans wine coolers out the back door when they aren't looking. Besides I still lack the thumbs required to open the darn thing.
2. After 8 weeks of agility training, I will not decide that the last day, when my human's friends come to watch me, is the time to go running off all around the field. This was extremely embarrassing for my human.
3. I will not slam my beer bowl around the kitchen when it is empty causing my humans to make jokes about me being a mean drunk (One beer for 4 dogs makes for shiny coats because of the hops/barley).
4. All 4 of us do not have to go outside at exactly the same time as my human. Besides we all tend to all get stuck in the doorway.
5. I will not eat the entire couch, including the cushions and boards ever again. Even though we only did it to show Mom how much we missed her, when she came back from visiting her parents, she was not flattered.
6. At the dog beach, I will not walk up to some random girl who's sunbathing, and shake water and sand off, then sit on her bikini clad back.
7. I will not eat the puffy white faux fur off my moms new vintage leather coat, making the living room look like I have slain a sheep.
7 1/2. After destroying said jacket's faux fur, I will not look up at my mom with a giant white Santa beard so that she laughs too hard to scold me properly.
8. I will not perform autopsies my soft toys, just to remove the evil squeaky parts.
9. I will not do the "dog sled" (drag my behind) across the carpet.
10. I will not try to lick as many dirty dishes in the dishwasher as I can, before my head gets closed in it.
11. I will not follow my human from room to room just to keep her in eyesight, especially when she is trying to get ready for work; back and forth from the bedroom to the bathroom. (Xs 4 )
12. I will not attempt to give my human a big sloppy kiss after licking my no-no for 10 minutes
13. I will stop eating my dad's food before he even gets a chance to taste it. (Gabby)
14. I will not, when I hear the sound of fireworks outside, panic and try to claw my way through my human. My mom screaming from pain never calms me down.
15. I will not lie down on the floor with my back legs spread open, especially not in front of company. This is not ladylike.
16. It is not necessary to always do a "random walk by licking" to anyone laying on the couch/floor/ground.
17. Although canines need a lot of exercise, it does not count as exercise when you eat your dad's weight bench!
18. I will not dig through the dirty clothes hamper and strew the laundry about the backyard.
19. I do not have to see what's inside the refrigerator every time it's opened. My head does not belong in there. Ever.
20. I will not begin slurping loudly in the middle of the night, on God knows what, causing my humans to whisper to eachother, "did you give the dog an ice cream cone?"
21. No matter how *ripe* my human's armpits are I will not dive into them and them come out snorting in disgust.
22. I will not wait until it is dead quiet and my humans are dozing to let out an enormous fart.
23.I don't have to be present every time the toilet is flushed, just so I can watch the water go round and round. (My Pitt puppy DEMANDS to watch every time.)
24. I will not attempt to dry my human's legs with my tongue every time she emerges from the shower.
25. I will not go and lick, sniff, or disturb my human while she is sitting on the toilet.
26. I will not steal things from the bathroom trash and try to sneak off with them. If caught, I will 'fess up instead of trying to suck the object into the back of my mouth.
27 I will not use my nose to peek around the shower curtain while my human is washing her hair, causing a slight cardiac arrest.
28I will not walk across the linoleum floor, walk over to the only rug and barf.
29I will not "paint" my impression of a Jackson Pollock painting in diarrhea across the entire kitchen floor.
30.I will not paint said "portrait" under the heater vent, thus causing the smell to get sucked into and dispersed throughout the entire house.
31. I will not bury my kibble all over the house. Especially since I never go back to collect it anyway. Also, I will not eat my kibbles a few at a time by dumping them from my dish and eating them delicately from the floor, since I usually get distracted, run off and leave a small pile.
32. I will not snore so loudly my humans can't sleep//I shake the bed//or three of us snore in tandem like the 3 stooges.
33. I will scootch my bottom along the grass to rid myself of hangers-on, not the carpet or down the front of my humans leg.

and finally the most important rule ever:

35. I will remember that the sound of crinkling cellophane or of a can opener, does not occur any where in the wild; we do not have to run expectantly into the kitchen, en masse, everytime we hear these sounds!

Friday, October 22, 2004

Losing Myself

Here is an extended answer to the question, how did I lose and get back my entire memory.

My senior year in high school I caught Mono, not even the fun way, and within a week and a half I had lost my entire memory. At the worst point, I lost the ability to read, then speak, I didn't recognize my mom, or even myself in the mirror and ended up functioning at the mental capacity of an infant. Before it was finally diagnosed properly, I was mis-diagnosed and almost committed to a mental institution. Some things I will never remember, some of the things I do remember are horrifying, and some are funny. The experience made me strong and the effects touch my life even now, 10 years later.

Let me back up a little. First I got Mononucleosis, then Strep, which turned into vomiting and high fevers. Soon after I got extremely dehydrated and went to the doctor. I remember the doctor shining a light in my eyes, I was already becoming confused and disoriented, I kept trying to "go towards the light" like I thought I was "supposed to" and kept bumping my forehead on the doctor's penlight. The doctor hydrated me with IVs and sent me home. A few days went by and I was acting stranger and stranger. My mom found me looking at a newspaper, and on a hunch she said, "Becky, can you read that?" I looked at her, then at the paper and I couldn't read it. I could make out letters and a few of the smaller words, but they wouldn't form into sentences. My mom then, asked me to count to 10 and I couldn't remember past 3. I began regressing fast after that. Later, my mom found me sitting on the floor with a picture frame, just staring. I asked whose picture was it. This really scared my mom because, it was a picture of me--taken only months before. Still later, my mom came into my room to check on me, and I was sitting there just staring off into space. She called my name...nothing. She shouted my name, no response, then she got within an inch of my face and screamed, "Becky, you better f---ing answer me." My mom, NEVER cusses. My brother came running in the room, and told my mom to stop, because someday I'd remember this. Not to worry, Mom, I don't. My mom put me in the car and drove me to the hospital. Next thing I remember, I was in the ER and my mom and dad were standing at the foot of my bed. A doctor asked me what year I was born, I couldn't remember so I just borrowed what the guy in the next bed over said, "1932." (Actually, 1975). He then asked me what was wrong, I stared pleadingly at my dad, who I am very close to, thinking, Dad, help! All I would say was, "I can't tell you." That is how I answered every question. The doctor came to believe, I was hiding some deep psychological problem but what I meant was "I have lost the ability to form sentences and can't tell you." The doctor then ran all kinds of tests, including my first spinal tap. Here is a little something I learned from spinal taps: if you have to have one DON'T SIT UP! You are supposed to stay lying down for hours, I was allowed to get up shortly after with hardly any spinal fluid in my brain. That really, really hurts. After the tap, the doctor determined, that there was nothing medically wrong with me and gave my parents directions to a nearby mental institution. My parents, feeling confused and upset drove me to the institution, (which looked more like a country club), but I had lost the ability to speak and just sat there, literally clinging to my parents. The first psychiatrist I saw, took one look at me and said, this is medical not psychological, get her back to the hospital and demand for her to be admitted. Right about here is when I stopped drinking water, because in my mixed up state, I truly believed that the water people were trying to give me was from the toilet, though I could not articulate this. Back into the emergency room, I remember I was so dehydrated they couldn't find any veins, they kept poking at me, I was struggling, I remember screaming and seeing my blood all over the floor. Needless to say they admitted me. My parents were so relieved, they thought, now she will finally get the help she needs and get better. They went home to sleep, thinking I would have improved by morning. I got much worse. The next day, my mom came in, and the nurse said, "Look who's here!"I had no idea who she was. I had regressed so far--to about the capacity of a nine month old, I was in diapers with no vestiges of my personality left. So much for improving. All I remember from that night is hallucinating all kinds of scary things. I saw the girl who used to bully me in junior high sitting next to my bed playing paddle ball. The days passed by, test after test was done, they stuck needles in my scalp, needles in my arm, my spine. Then my priest came and gave me the annointing of the sick. Slowly after, I started to improve. For a while my mom and I communicated in Sign Language, then I could talk, then I could read again. I remember as I was starting to get better my mom said to me, "Becky, the doctors want to know if maybe you've become sexually active and you are afraid to tell us. That maybe something else is going on." With complete sincerity, I whispered to my mom, "Mom, if my boyfriend and I had sex, I wasn't there." Even under the circumstances my mom thought that was funny. When my dad would visit at night I would tell him, "Dad, lets get out of here, no one is looking!" and try to escape. I kept trying to pull the tubes out of my arm, and make a break for it. He had to stop me from running down the hall, trailing the IV with my bottom hanging out! Another time Miss California came and visited the patients and I was laying on the bed coloring with my clothes on backwards. She must have thought I was mentally deranged!
Days later still the doctors released me. I was doing OK, fever gone, not hallucinating, most of my memory back. Problem was, I would still get confused and, my personality was still out of whack, with no medical explanation why. I went home and began the long road to recovery. I thought I was going home because I was all better, but they just didn't know what else to do with me. My parents made the decision they would care for me at home, even if I stayed, altered. Slowly but surely I just got better. Weeks later the doctor, finally found Epstein-Barre in my spinal fluid which caused the Meningitis--which causes the lining of the brain to swell. That is what caused the hallucinating, memory lost, etc.

It was hard going back to school. I still wasn't "all the way back" but I demanded to be allowed to go. I would ge so overwhelmed and confused, even though outwardly I looked pretty normal. On the drives home, my mom says I would just sit and stare out the window with tears rolling down my face, but I was determined to go. I will always be grateful to my dear friend Cristina. She would act as a human barricade, "Everyone back off, she needs her space." and shoo everyone away when they would swamp me with questions. I was all better by graduation, but by then I felt really far removed, like I'd already moved on.

The scariest thing that happened, through the entire ordeal, is I found a piece of paper in my room. It was in my handwriting but I don't remember writing it. It said, "I know I am not myself and I am afraid I'm not coming back." Still gives me chills. The after effects? I will never remember some things, to this day I have a chemical imbalance, this probably caused or triggered and my faith in God and in myself is stronger than it ever would have been. Honestly, wouldn't trade the experience for the world.

Thursday, October 21, 2004

Multi-Pet Families are Better

This post is dedicated both to Jen P. and my former cat Hobbes.

A letter from your cat:

Dear Owner,
I love you, but sometimes you just don't "get me." I get lonely all by myself, and unless you fianlly decide to learn my language, I would like someone else to talk to. I am tired of playing games by myself, would you get me a friend to play with? Human contact is great, but sometimes I feel the need to hang out with my animal peers. Sometimes I am destructive, but that is only because I get bored. You try to commiserate, but only another cat can truly understand and the joy of a catnip high. When I try to discuss politics with you at dinner time, you think I am crying for food! If I had a friend, I wouldn't always get in trouble for things; I could blame my crimes on my new buddy. Remember last Christmas when I ate the tree tinsel and it was hanging half out of my bum or the time I got a plastic bag stuck on my tail and thought someone was chasing me? Well, it sure would have been nice to have someone to confide in, about those things, they were pretty embarrassing. A feline companion would appreciate my offerings of love, ie., dead bugs, lizards and mice and not squeal in fear or disgust. When I want to play "Jungle Kitty" my new friend will play along, not giggle when I am trying to hide and I leave my head and tail still sticking out. You know how I crouch down real low, creep forward slowly, then wiggle my butt before pouncing and attacking the Feather Monster? That's not funny, that is an ancient kitty technique. It takes skill! Remember when I ate that rubber band and it only came part out? Remember how you gently tried to pull it out but instead it stretched then snapped back and scared the crap out of me? I sure wished I had had someone to talk to about that. Your version of helping: "Wait come back, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that!" Was hard to believe, since you were snorting and crying from laughing so hard. In closing, I promise to be on my best behavior if you bring me home a friend--otherwise I cannot guarantee the safety of your prized plants...

Sincerely,
The Cat


Wednesday, October 20, 2004

Whose Idea was That?

I often think the fact that early pregnancy symptoms and PMS symptoms are almost identical; is a really stupid idea. No offense intended to God, but couldn't He have planned this a little better. Instead of twinges, sore boobies, nausea and irritability, why not something really different? How about, hey my butt is tingling, maybe I'm pregnant? What if your tongue turned blue or if you got a case of hiccups for an hour. I dunno, just some random thoughts I've had. Technically I am in the 2ww phase, but since my Saliva OPK kit is nothing more than a glorified green glowing flashlight, I could be wrong. Besides, we aren't trying this month anyway.

Back in the day, my friend D and I toured the world of pre-pregnancy together. (I didn't yet know I was just a tourist.) Our husbands went to the police academy together, then got stationed at neighboring offices, then they moved in next door and even named their dog Kiley after our dog Riley. We started trying at the exact same time. We would go on long walks and talk about having our babies at the same time. We spent HOURS in Barnes and Nobles, pulling every single book about pregnancy onto the floor and sat amongst the piles reading the "symptoms" sections.

D: Hey it says your sense of smell is stronger, do you have that?
B: I don't know maybe. It says frequent urination, do you have that?
D: I don't know, maybe. Do you have sore boobies?
B: (Poke, poke, poke, pinch, prod,grab, bounce) OMG I do!
D: Maybe...
B: Yeah, maybe....

On and on we'd go, talking and hoping and dreaming. I truly hoped she would get pg first then me right after, because even though we started at the same time, she and her husband got to live under the same roof during the police academy and Chris and I were at opposite ends of CA, so that just seemed "fair" to me. One day in early December, D and her husband T came over. D actually stood behind her husband and said, "I'm pregnant" with out even pausing I screamed and jumped up and practically knocked T down so I could get to her and hug her. I asked her why she had been standing behind T, "I thought you'd be mad." she said. (???) I just assumed I'd follow shortly after. So now as we approach another December and her little boy is now 2 months old, I pause and reflect on that moment. I think that is the moment things between us changed, I just didn't know it yet. How could she think I wouldn't be thrilled for her? I never said anything like, I better get pregnant before you. All through her pregnancy I showered the kid with gifts and when she shared her symptoms I continued to share mine. She had mile stones, but so did I. When she was getting her first U/S I found out my progesterone was almost non existent. When she found out it was a boy, Chris has just found out that his "boys" were perfect. While I asked her a million excited questions, she just seemed uncomfortable asking me any. Sometimes I think my IF makes my pg/mom friends feel awkward. Oh well, I can only be who I am and part of who I am is a person struggling to make a kid. My journey may not amount to a hill of beans; but this is my hill and these are my beans.

And now I will close with 10 things you may not know about me:

1. I collect Pez dispensers from all over the world. I have over 250 different ones
2. Chris and I got matching tattoos instead of an engagement ring
(A Celtic knot symbolizing "an eternal bond between two people" )
3. I once lost my entire memory including the ability to read, write and speak
4. I love to watch movies. To me dinner and a movie is the perfect date
5. My favorite movies are Super Troopers, the Fifth Element and any John Wayne movie
6. I have never seen the Atlantic ocean
7. I love to read even more than watch movies. I can read an entire novel in a day. My favorite authors are Dean Koontz, Stephen King, James Patterson and Ann Rule
8. I once competed against UCLA for acting, and I won best Actress in a comedy for my college
9. I have three boxes of baby clothes and a closet full of toys and books. I collect any baby clothes that have police cars on them because they are very hard to find. (Everyone loves firemen but cops? Not so much.)
10. Sometimes I think about getting a friend for Riley--a fifth dog! Mom? Did you totally just pass out? Somebody get the smelling salts!