This Blog Will NOT Give You Cancer

I think it may be time to change the name of this blog.

The name is silly, really. A bad attempt at black humor. A remnant of a joke from high school. I've wondered off and on whether it was in bad taste, but have never really been bothered by the thought enough to change it.

I do refrain from telling people the name of this blog, worrying that they might react badly.

(Actually, I don't tell a whole lot of people that I have a blog in the first place. Dunno why. I just don't.)

But anyways...

Today I got an e-mail. Not berating me on the title of this blog, no. But it gave me another reason to want to change it. One I hadn't really considered before.

The e-mail was an offer to write a guest post, sharing the research someone had done on cancer patient rehabilitation and family rehab and whatnot. They thought – from the title, I'm guessing – that it would fit in well with the rest of my content.

I suppose my throwing around the name “Zofran” so much lately probably didn't help that assumption.

But...yeah.

People might think this is a cancer blog. Which it clearly isn't.

I don't really have a new title yet, so it may take me a few days, but just know that changes are probably coming.

Well, not probably.

They will be.

Once I figure out a new title.

MERCEA COMMISSION!

Another completed commission from the always ossum Anna Stansfield! Mercea, on her as-yet-unnamed mount. :)

If you like, you can find more of Anna's art here, here or here.

Stuff and Things

So, here I am. Blogging again.

(I'm going to ask you, preemptively, if you will forgive me for being so disjointed and rambly. Apparently one of the symptoms of pregnancy is something called "pregnancy brain," which has been a kind of mild-to-moderate ADD combined with ditziness. So...yeah. Forgive me.)

Things have been going a little better lately. I'm steadily taking one Zofran pill per day, and things seem to be getting smoother, a little at a time. I'm doing better with fluids (though I admit I'm getting a high percentage of those through these delicious antioxidant-enriched popsicles I found. Nom nom.), and food usually stays down just fine. Smell aversion is the biggest problem for me right now (apart from pregnancy brain, of course, which is a near-constant.) Work is particularly bad, being a second-hand store frequented by homeless people. Lots of smells, none of them particularly pleasant. The break room is sometimes like torture. I would go outside to eat, but I'd rather not sit on the curb and be stared at by bums.

I am so tired of bums.

(Sorry if that sounds heartless, but out here, it is hard to tell the people who are really in need from the people who are just trying to scam you. It gets old fending people off at every corner. Besides, I don't carry cash, anyway. And I'd rather not vomit on someone. Sometimes it's not their fault they smell like urine. Sometimes it is. Either way, vomit would not help their situation.)

I'm getting a little tired of California too, to be honest. Moving is a pain in the butt, but... When we first moved here, everything was new and exciting, and that made it easier to be so far away from home. But now it's all getting familiar, and I'm getting more and more homesick. I'd like a new location to bring a spark back in, make me less mopey. (Let me say, at this point, that I realize I don't really have much to whine about, being fairly healthy, having a home, etc, etc. I just need to whine. I'm whiny. It's what I do.)

Fortunately (or perhaps, unfortunately), that wish may (or may not be) granted sooner than I was expecting. You see, Mark's last phase of schooling wasn't supposed to start until mid-March this year. It was to last until mid-to-late July, and then we would be assigned a permanent duty station; perhaps in San Diego, perhaps elsewhere. On Friday, Mark got a phone call: they were bumping his class up. To now. He started yesterday. Which means his class only runs until May. Which means he'll be getting new orders (possibly to WA? I hope?) a lot sooner. Which also means he may not be around for the birth of our first child.

I was really upset about that at first, but then I calmed down. Know why? Because I realized there is absolutely nothing he or I can do about it. If he can't be there, he can't be there, and moping through the rest of my pregnancy, worrying about that possibility will not help in the slightest. I can hope, but I've got to keep my mind open to the possibility that he might miss it. It makes me sad for the both of us, but more for him than myself.

Don't worry - I won't be all alone. My mom is buying a plane ticket - insured, of course, in case we do have to move elsewhere in May - so that she can be with me at the birth, whether or not Mark is there. If I can't have Mark (and, dear goodness, I hope I can), then at least I can have Mom.

To be honest, I was going to ask her to come then anyway. There are certain times when you just need a Mom's reassurance and presence, and that will be one of them.


But...yeah. That's my life right now.

I was supposed to make a trip home later this month, but extenuating circumstances (work being bitches) made me push it back to next month. I'm buying my plane ticket later this week. That darn trip will not be moved again.

Oh, and my Mom wants to throw me a baby shower while I'm home! Fun!

Mark doesn't get to come, though. He'll be in class. He's super jealous, of course, but he didn't want me to miss out on what could (possibly) be my last chance to make it home before autumn.


I don't know if I have anything else to say. I'm having trouble focusing. Hmmm...

I wish I didn't have to work right tomorrow. Or ever. But I think it's good for me, being out and about, earning money. We just upgraded the apartment, and my paycheck is definitely helping out. We can afford a lot more creature comforts (well, relatively speaking) than we could before. Plus, I really only have 6 more months or so to go before I can stay home anyway.

Man, I'm lazy.

But I hate the workforce. SOOOO MUCH.

I would insert a Tanith Lee quote here, as she also loathes the workforce, but I really can't think of anything. Soo...

Bai.

I AM ALIVE! (but very bad at it)

Things have been rough around here, lately. I ran out of Zofran the other day, and cannot figure out who to call about refilling my prescription, so - needless to say - I did not make it to work today. I could barely keep my head out of the toilet all morning. That was fun.

Although, one thing - I laughed at throwing up for the first time today. Why, you ask? Because I threw up an Icee. A blue one. Sorry if you're squeamish or whatever, buthe blue... I dunno. It was a bad day overall, and I took whatever laughs I could get.

It doesn't seem all that funny anymore, though. Just sad.


Also, other bad things: I talked to work about the time off I asked for in January, and I'm not so sure they're going to give it to me. They said something about having a "policy" (that was never mentioned to me before) about not letting people take more than a couple of days off in a row within their first six months of work. But, because I mentioned the fact that Mark would be doing stuff for the military while we're back in MN (which is true), they're seeing if that changes the policy at all. I dunno. They're also probably not super happy with me for calling in sick a whole bunch. (They sounded sympathetic today because I was sobbing into the phone when I called in. Having just thrown up my third attempt at breakfast, I was a bit hysterical. Embarrassed about that now, but...whatever. It made them feel bad for me, and if sympathy works in my favor...fine.)


Sorry. I am all rambly and stuff. Can't focus very well. It is taking all my willpower to even sit down and type this. I have been napping and watching American Dad/wheezywaiter videos all day. Oh, and reading Foxtrot. I can't seem to do much that requires a whole lot of concentration. I'm very easily exhausted. I don't feel like myself at all.

I'm told that will go away at the beginning of my second trimester, when I will apparently regain some energy and sense of self. Only four more weeks to go until then... woohoo...

For now, back to Foxtrot.


Oh, and MERRY CHRISTMAS/HAPPY HOLIDAYS, e'erbody! Hard to believe it's this weekend already!


Man, I'm homesick.

And just plain sick.

But I'm trying to stay positive.

Or maybe that's just the delirium talking?

Low Point

Yesterday was really the low point of this whole morning sickness fiasco. After calling in to work for the second day in a row, I spent the morning and early afternoon puking up anything and everything I tried to put into my body. Oatmeal, fresh pears, trail mix, saltines, water, ginger ale... even a peppermint candy I'd tried to suck on to ease my nausea made me end up with my head in the toilet. I was miserable. I even burst a couple of blood vessels in my right eye (no permanent damage, but painful nonetheless.) I didn't know what to do. All the tips for easing morning sickness I'd found online (or had been given by more experienced ladies) was not helping.

So Mark and I called the OB/GYN, who directed us to head to the emergency room. Which we did.

After being given a dose of Zofran (medication typically given to Chemo patients to help ease their nausea) and an IV with a liter of fluids (because, at that point, I was pretty dehydrated; I'll go into the awfulness of that procedure in a moment), I was diagnosed with Hyperemesis. Or: really, really bad morning sickness.

So now I'm on a special diet and have to take regular doses of Zofran, to keep the nausea at bay. I might even have to cut back my work schedule to part-time (no real complaint there), because one side effect of the medication is severe drowsiness and some dizziness.

Gee, thanks, Babby Williams. I can tell you love me already.

One good thing the doctor said, though, was that my level of morning sickness shows that my hormones are very active, which means my pregnancy is probably going really well so far. (Six weeks along! Woohoo!) So that's something, I guess.


Anyways, about the IV. It was my first ever, and I am no hero when it comes to needles. I don't liking having needles put in my body to put stuff in, and I hate it when they take stuff out. But I needed fluids, and I wanted to feel better (and not put the babby at further risk, obviously) so I was manning it up.

Until they put Mr-First-Day-With-A-Needle up to the task of inserting an IV into my small-and-even-further-shrunk-from-dehydration veins. Needless to say, his first attempt (my poor, right inner elbow) was not successful. He found the vein, but couldn't get anything to flow in. He missed the vein on my left arm, bruising it wonderfully. At this point, he gave up (thank goodness) and called in another nurse. She looked at my veins and called in another nurse, who called yet another nurse. Finally they found an appropriate vein on my right hand and (after almost having to fetch smelling salts, as I was 5/6ths passed out at this point) got things going.

May I also mention at this point that Mark, who is usually the one keeping me calm during anything involving needles, was not in the room at this point. The doctor had already sent him over to the pharmacy for my Zofran. He didn't return until an hour later (when my fluid bag was empty and I was waiting to have the IV removed), due to the line he'd encountered there. Geez.

So I made it through, and today - even though I did not feel 100% - I felt a lot better.

Hopefully I make it okay through work tomorrow.

And don't get yelled at for calling out. (I have a note from the doctor, though. So...yeah. If they yell at me, f*ck 'em. What are they going to do, fire me? Big whoop. I don't even care anymore.)

This Sucks

Just the thought of going in to work makes me want to cry.

This morning, I am vomiting up water, ginger ale, crackers... I don't want to put anything into my mouth for fear it'll just come back up, but having an empty stomach doesn't help either.

I've had the past two days off, and even while chilling on the couch all day, the morning sickness was miserable. It's going to be a hundred times worse when I'm around all the noise and smells of Goodwill. Plus, I'm supposed to be eating crackers or dry snacks almost constantly (when am I supposed to do that at work?), drinking ginger tea (again?), sitting and relaxing every now and then (yeah right. they'd freak out at me.)...

We need the money for rent and plane tickets and the like, but good grief, I just want to quit and spent the day with my toilet. (Well...that's not what I want, ideally, but it seems like the best option right now.)

I'm trying everything, every tip I've been given: peppermints, lemon drops, ginger ale, ginger tea, crackers, naps... Nothing is helping so far. I don't know what to do.

And I have to work from 12:30pm to 9pm tonight.

Baaaaaaaaaaaarf.

Morning Sickness

Sorry I haven't been posting. I keep writing down ideas for entries while I'm at work, but by the time I get home, I'm just too worn out to do anything but veg on the couch. And make food.

Well, up until yesterday anyway. Now making food isn't all that fun anymore.

Yesterday was the official beginning of morning sickness (aka: all-day, I-hate-my-life sickness). I woke up with a racing heart and ran into the bathroom for the first round of vomiting. I ate a banana for breakfast. That came up as soon as I got to work. Spaghetti-Os for lunch (big mistake). Those came up about five minutes after my lunch break was over. I was able to keep down water, but it was a near thing. It made my stomach feel sloshy, and I had a gross metallic taste in my mouth all day.

I have a little red dot in my right eye now (Yay! Kushiel's Dart!) from where I damaged a blood vessel with all the heaving.

I did manage to keep my Panera Bread supper down, but the queasiness didn't go away until I fell asleep. I was scared to get out of bed this morning, because I didn't know if I was going to have to go throw up the minute I tried to move.

I didn't, which is good. I'm even keeping down my oatmeal and toast. But I'm really scared to drink any fluids, because I don't want that sloshy feeling in my stomach today. I have to drink water - at least 64oz a day - so it's a bad choice either way. Either get dehydrated (which won't really make me feel better) or deal with the sloshy nausea.

Good god, is this what the next two months are going to be like? Because I preferred it when Babby Williams was demanding extra food (all red meat) and just giving me headaches and mood swings. Bah.