Yipee! I am Going Under the Knife!

OK so I said I would give an update on yesterday's doctors appointment. I am very excited to say, I am going to have my surgery November 10th. I am excited because I will get some real answers. Most people at this stage in the game have had an HSG, but not me, because my insurance won't pay for it, so everything so far has only been guesswork. My doc thinks I have endo, so he is billing it that way, and since it is medical, the insurance will pay for it. While he is in there, he is going to shoot some dye through the tubes, just like a mini HSG and I will have ANSWERS. Answers = excitement. Good or bad, I should finally have some sort of resolution. If he finds endo, he will burn it away, and he says then my chances at pregnancy for the next month will go way up. If he finds a blockage in my tubes, well, either he will clear it away or he won't be able to and it's game over. But that is still something. Even "No" is an answer. The doc was amazed when I told him how severe my reaction was the other day. He was surprised at the timing. He thinks maybe it is progesterone overload, not the Clomid. But he said, "No Clomid for you!" like the soup nazi on Seinfeld. In December, I will go back to just the progesterone bullets and if I have a bad reaction again, we can try something else.

Moving right along, I am going to be Little Red Riding Hood for Halloween. Here is a picture of my Halloween costume. Chris will be the wolf. He doesn't like dressing up so he can just wear all brown and I'll get him the wolf mask. He said today, "But I don't want to wear a mask it will make me hot." I told him it was only a face mask with elastic, and that he could wear it backwards for all I cared. "But then people will be talking to the back of me." I said, "That's perfect, you don't like talking to anyone anyway!" "Oh, yeah. I like the idea then." Let me explain something about my husband and why our marriage works so well. I am like a human buffer for Chris. He does not like to talk to people, especially strangers. I will talk to anyone. Chris told me, I could make friends at my own hanging. He does not like crowded noisy places. I am often the reason places become noisy. It works out really well though, when people start to talk to Chris I subtly move in between Chris and said person, thus making him safely insulated. And you want Chris to be happy. Because he carries a gun. Which brings me to a interesting point. You may ask yourself, how can such a person be a good cop? But he really is. He is a totally different person when he puts on that uniform. He becomes talkative, animated and even bilingual. He is really tough and intimidating too. However, God love him, I tell him, when he comes home he hangs up his brain with his badge sometimes. I say, how can someone so smart and so put together at work, forget to put the trash out every single Monday? Or forget to pick up the dog food? Or forget my days off even though they are the same, every single week?Or have to be reminded days in advance, not to forget to take Xena for her monthly chiropractor visit? If I had a nickel for every time I heard, "Oh was that today?" I'd be rich. I'm not being mean, he'll tell you the same thing. But like I said, we really do compliment each others personality perfectly. Everyone thinks Chris is so quiet and serious, but the other night when I was at work, I told Chris to hang on the phone, while I talked to my officers on the radio. Now, he knows the drill, he has to be perfectly quiet and stop talking to me or I get distracted, and usually he is really good at it. The other night though... I said hang on to Chris, and I began talking on the air, and then all the sudden I hear Chris singing, "Gabby Gabby Gabby, wag your tail, Gabby Gabby Gabby, waggin your tail." And I just lost it. I was laughing so hard, I couldn't breathe--or dispatch. When I told him, how could you do that, you know I get distracted? He said, "You said not to talk to you, I wasn't, I was talking to Gabby." Well, I can't argue with that. He has songs for all the dogs. The one he sings the most is sung to the tune of the dradle song. He sings, "Xena Xena Xena God made you out of clay, Xena Xena Xena, and with you I will play. They love it. But you should see Gabby. Never was their a tiny black lab that loved to be sung to as much as her. Gabby is the one, I told you about who is crazy because the high fever from the parvo kind of fried her little brain. How is she crazy? Let me give you some examples. You know cartoons when they get dizzy, they draw the eyes spinning? Her eyes get like that sometimes, and we're like, "Uh oh, it's happening, Gabby focus, focus." It's not such a big deal at home, but when she has breaks with reality at the dog park--not so good. Like the time she mistook a pug for a cat. Oh she hates cats. That little pug has no idea how close it came going to "a happy place" that day. Also, she'll eat anything, including one time my birth control pills. Try that one for your pharmacist. "No really, my dog ate my BCPs. See?" I held up the pills with jagged dog teeth marks, only then did I get an early refill. Or she collects things, that are obviously meaningful to her and puts them into a "nest". Most recently I found a stash of: a tube of toothpaste, a pez dispenser, a pair of Chris' boxer shorts, and entire, unharmed but completely open package of pantyliners and a baseball cap. And finally, if I have not convinced you yet, maybe the following will. It is totally normal for dogs to sniff other dogs pee. It's kind of like an up to the minute ticker tape of information that tells the dog sniffing where the peeing dog was and what it's been up to. Gabby is the only dog I have ever seen that pees while rotating in a circle so she can smell her own pee-apparently so she can find out where she's been. Sweetest, most pure of heart dog that ever was. I have noticed this about myself: When I begin droning on and on about my dogs, it's time to sign off. While fascinating to me--I will spare you--for now.

Shout out to my friend and co-worker Denise who had her baby, Jackson Royce, 8 pounds, 20 inches! Way to go! I'll be smelling you soon little man!