Bad paper

You'd think my first clue would've been when I checked into the doctor's office and found out I was at the wrong place. It was time for my yearly gyno appointment, and I was returning to a doctor that I'd only seen once before (a year and a half ago). Of course, there were two gynos that I'd only been to once, and I picked the wrong one to show up at. The correct office was gracious enough to reschedule my appointment for this afternoon and not charge me for my lack of brain cells.

Bad paper #1 - the ticket I received when I was headed to the correct doctor's office this afternoon. I did a rolling stop. My mind was obviously elsewhere. My eyes sure saw the officer zipping right at me. I pulled over and he hastily sped me thru the process, leaving me a bit dazed as he darted back to his lucrative hiding place.

Bad paper #2 - the one that stuck to my fanny as I was nervously waiting for the doctor to come into the room. Of course, it wouldn't have mattered if she walked in the door 30 seconds or 30 minutes after I sat down. It would've been plastered to my heiney either way. They must be made with some specific material that increases the stick-to-the-butt factor. And those paper tops we're made to wear? They need to be made in different sizes. I was lucky it didn't rip on me. That happened before... when I had to see a male doctor... talk about humiliating.

So there I was this afternoon - paper bib wrapped around my upper half like those silly sweaters that really serve no purpose outside of decoration, paper blanket on my lap (why do they even call it a blanket? it could only be a baby's blanket, considering the size) (and I tried my darnedest to tuck it under me wherever possible without ripping it), and paper table cover plastered to my underside like a band aid. My pulse was racing so high, and I realized I was as afraid of this as I am with the dentist. Never really noticed it before, but I sure felt the anxiety this time. Then she walks in... and the rest is a bit of a blur.

This is what I drove home with: I need to go back to see her in two months. At that time, I need to inform her of my decision as to whether or not we want to have more children. (Yes, we have two months to decide this. These thoughts are enough for a separate blog... I'll post another day.) I also need to be in a better place with my health when I return. If my weight hasn't dropped in numbers, I at least need to be able to honestly tell her that I'm exercising & eating better - regularly. Sometime between now & then I need to have a fasting blood draw, so they can do a thorough check. I also need to go for a digital mammogram. Aside from those things, she told me I was just dealt a bad set of genes... a "really bad set of genes"... and it's up to me to do all I can about it. Someone with my weight could live fine with it, but with everything I have... basically I'm screwed if I don't start making some serious changes immediately. I'm at a much higher risk of diabetes and heart disease because of the state of my PCOS. That's outside of the family history of those, too. I also most likely have something called incisional endrometriosis (I'm pretty sure that's what she called it) in a section of my C-section scar (we can do surgery on it if it bothers me enough, and there's other steps necessary for me to take starting now for it). Oh, and if I do get pregnant without making changes first, I will most likely deliver the baby very early (more than Kirsten's 32 weeks), have gestational diabetes, heart problems, or I could even die. Oh, and the baby could have serious defects or die, too.

Can you see what a dark visit this was? I guess I've got my work cut out for me. Lots of thinking to do. And action. Unless I want to die, which isn't something I'm actually planning on doing any time soon.

Thanks for sitting thru this. I needed to write out as much as I could before I forget what she said. My mind's already numbing up and it hasn't even been an hour since I left there.

Hmmm...

I must be getting old

Today I spoke with a nurse at my doctor's office. She was letting me know the results of an x-ray I had taken of my left foot last week. (The weekend prior I hurt it some while digging up bushes in the yard, and was a little concerned about it.) She told me that there were no fractures, but she sounded a bit concerned when she told me that a bit of arthritis showed up. She said it wasn't a lot, but it was definitely arthritis.

So, why didn't I have anything else to say besides "Thank you" until I hung up the phone?!? At that point, all sorts of questions started running thru my mind, including the question of why didn't I think of these when I had her on the phone! Am I too young for arthritis? Is that why she sounded a bit cautious when telling me? This is my first "official" diagnosis of this - what does that mean for me? Is it going to progress? How do I treat it? Is this something I inherited from my family (many of them have arthritis)? Is this something spurred on from my early teen cheerleading days? (Yes, I was a cheerleader in junior high - you can stop laughing now.) Or is this from the past 20 years of putting my body weight on my poor little footsies?

If any of you that read this have any input, please advise! Or should I just call the office back with my questions?

I miss my Docs

Oh, I really miss those black steel-toed beauties! They finally met their end about a year ago... but after over 10 years of hard wear, they fulfilled their destiny quite well! My friend Vickie had given them to me back in our early college days. I wore them to death, yet they never gave out on me. They were my play shoes, my clubbin' shoes, my work shoes, and even my church shoes! I did just about everything in them except sleep!

Aren't they pretty?!? Then again, I've always wanted burgundy/red ones, too. Or as boots.

Hmmm... I've been thinking about getting them for so long - for well over 15 years, that's for sure. So, why don't I have them yet?!? Maybe I should make a little bank for myself. One that I can't get into until it's full. It'll strictly be my "new pair of Docs" fund. Yeah, I think I really need to do this.

Washing miracle

I can't believe it! This morning I did a load of laundry. What did I find at the END of the entire process? A kleenex - completely intact!

(see inside the red circle)

I seriously can't believe it. With all the tissue we go thru around here with Kirsten's nose problem, I'm pretty good at going thru all the nooks & crannies of the clothes to make sure one doesn't slip past me. And when they do, the mess is horrible, as expected. But this...? Definitely a cool moment for me! And yes, it is a little sad that something like this really excites me so! LOL


By the way... why do busses stop on train tracks & open the doors? I was behind a school bus, observing this ritual, and was really wondering about the safety of it. Does the driver want to see the train that's about to plow into them? Are they giving the kids a quick opportunity to get off & go play on the tracks? Why do they do that?!?

Letting go

It's official. Matt and I made a decision to stop watching "Prison Break."

We so much enjoyed the first season, still liked season two, and so far in season three we haven't seen a single episode. It started by us missing the premiere, then we couldn't find a way to view it (couldn't locate it online), we were piling up the next episodes on tape waiting for us, and we finally threw in the towel. Oh well. Kinda sad, kinda not. We've got a few other new shows this season to fill in the gap for us, I suppose!

Christmas wishes

My baby might be wishing for her 2 front teeth by Christmas-time... last night she showed me that they're a little bit loose! She seems a little behind others her age in losing teeth, but we expected that - she cut her teeth late (parents will get this: she was around 14 or 15 months & the first one was a bottom molar!) (or was it a cuspid? I can't remember off-hand!). We were told with her preemie factor it could be "normal" - and that from cutting them late, she'll probably lose them late. According to the American Dental Association, the normal range for shedding the incisors is from 6-7 yrs.old (see chart. Kirsten turned 7 at the end of July, so it's not as far off as I was expecting! She's so excited, and I think I am, too!

I'm creatively using this to help her clean her teeth more now. I told her this morning that she needs to keep brushing her teeth - that the Tooth Fairy pays more for clean teeth! LOL I think it might work!!!

Now, how much does the T.F. dish out these days for the pearly whites?!?