Posts Tagged ‘health’

Vulcas r us.

July 25, 2013

I told the doctor today that since we don’t own a hand mirror, I tried to use my iPad to check out my labia. (Wonder how much google traffic that little nugget will bring. Ha.)

Apparently it’s not just the one ‘pigmented lesion’ as I have one on the other side, too.

Likely to be nothing, but am being referred to vulvar specialist. They have microscopes that can examine shit while it is still attached to your body, and will do a biopsy if necessary, to check for pre cancerous changes.

I know it is highly unlikely to be anything. But I still won’t completely relax till after seeing the specialist, which is probably in about a month’s time.


Lots of things are more historic than a new famous baby.

July 22, 2013

A lot of historic things have happened in the last week. Marriage equality has happened here. TMD and I went away alone for a night. The kids’ adoption went through – we had no idea till today. But after almost exactly four years, the kids finally have two legal mothers.

And another thing. I wore skintight cropped leggings on the past two evenings for my walk. That shit is something I never thought I would say.

They are so gross but SO COMFORTABLE.

I am trying to reemerge, folks. These nightly walks have literally taken all my time and energy. It is a big commitment. I have a rest when TMD gets home, because my days can be tiring but also because it is currently hotter than the sun, then go on late night walks and come home and write a bit about them.

Oh, the sheer rocky ride of finding the discipline to go out every single night. It has been a tough settling in period, and even now, on day thirty four, I wouldn’t say I’ve settled. I have missed three nights – two due to pelvis problems, one due to a cat slashing my fucking toe open – but I am getting there.

More and more I am thinking about starting a more public blog. I miss posting pictures with heads, real names, being more easily able to connect with people who live near me. I hung out with a good friend I met courtesy of this blog earlier in the week and we discussed this a bit.

I have often started ‘niche’ blogs, only to drop them because I like writing about all of life. So I think a new blog would be like this, but with more personal details…and less ranting about family members. Something to think on. And whether I’d keep this blog going, which I think I might.

It’s a dramatic week. Snort’s collarbone is still causing him pain, I’ve found a brown itchy spot on my labia, of all places, and we both have doctor appointments Thursday. The kids also danced on a stage in front of 7000 people, which was awesome, and I got to hang out with a friend ALL BY MYSELF AT NIGHTTIME. Another historic thing.

Pretend, real, who can tell.

June 15, 2012

Ah. We had midnight hospital runs, testing for diabetes, etc. All fun. End result? He’s going to be just fine and is almost into the ‘just fine’ region.

But what a week.

Coconut and I also had this bug, though we recovered quickly. Not quick enough for me to not get pee, runny poo, and vomit all over me. (Not mine, folks.)

This week also began with emergency doctor trips for Coco, who was only peeing once every 24 hours. We’ve got new poop medicine, and lo and behold, as she poops better she’s back to peeing like a human.

And as far as the potty training we did not do? I’m inspired to not do it to Snort, too.

Since the day Coconut decided to use the potty (randomly, after months of hostility towards peeing elsewhere than her nappy), girlfriend has not had any accidents. She also is just pooping in the potty, easy as you please, which is astonishing after an impossible length of time where poop equalled destruction and pain.

I don’t remind her, pester her, etc. Or I try not to. We have potties in various locations. I leave her and them alone, and she avails herself of them as necessary. It’s AWESOME.

But after a week of bodily fluids spewing out everywhere (or not, as the case may be), the house is gross. We are semi-messy people, but not dirty people. So in order to cope with today, I am pretending I am in Little House on the Prairie. Ma Ingles got shit done, ya’ll, with a smile on her face.

If I pretend that I must keep moving and getting stuff sorted, then it is easier to do.

Just like when I used to feel rage at the kids, so I pretended cameras were all over the house and I was on a reality tv show about awesome parenting. You do what you gotta do.

Thick to Thin Thursday #2

October 22, 2009

Well, I did good this week! Real good, Jim Bob.

I lost six pounds.

I remember this happening the last time I did Weight Watchers, this big loss in the first week. (And, in fact, I had a bigger loss that time.) My overall goal would be 1-2 pounds per week, though sometimes of course it’ll be less, sometimes more.

I had good intentions of writing and pointing everything this week, but I am sadly lacking actual WW charts. I have one copy of it and need TMD to copy it. But it was pretty easy to slip back into remembering how much each food was worth.

Essentially, though, I just stopped snacking. And I made smarter choices. And let’s not forget my nightly torture walks/lovely time to myself.


Click ‘Thick to Thin Thursdays’ under Pages, or just click on the nifty yellow star flair for more info on my weight loss journey. And YOURS, if you want to join in.

t2tt star6

Lucky number ten.

January 26, 2009

1. Still off work. This marks the start of week #4. I will be back at work by next Monday at the latest, so help me God.

2. Went to our niece’s Christening yesterday. I assume you capitalise things when they involve renouncing Satan? Anyway, we sat at the very back of the cathedral so I could eat the entire service – and also run outside to puke on their multi-million pound/dollar/whatever lawn if needed. We sat across the aisle from Bil and Sil’s Jewish neighbors, who also spent the whole time feeding their son. TMD and I couldn’t decide if we were the heathen section or the picnic section; in fact, perhaps the two are not mutually exclusive.

3. Bil has told all of his friends we are pregnant with twins, even though we said SHH TOP SECRET to him. They were all loudly congratulating us in front of TMD’s family. This was a little awkward, but we escaped discovery.

4. I’ve not heard from the hospital yet regarding the booking in appointment or the twelve week scan. Going to call them tomorrow. I have a phobia about checking voicemail AND about making phone calls, it would appear. Called Dr. Shitface today to extend my sick  note and get a referral to physiotherapy, and was beyond relieved to hear he couldn’t call back until tomorrow – despite the fact that the referral should have been made eons ago.

5. My leg is wacked. I did a ‘lot’ of ‘walking’ yesterday at the Christening. (Christ claims you for his own!) Translated this means relying heavily on the crutches to walk about three minutes. This exertion has left my leg semi-dead and very stiff.

6. Sil gave me lots of maternity clothes. Yipee! Including a nice pair of jeans that I will have to start wearing now, as in about three weeks time (if that) I reckon they won’t fit anymore.

7. I have finally managed to weigh myself. I was curious to do this because my body is turning into a flobby (the perfect word) garbly mess. Turns out I’ve not gained weight. I’ve not stayed the same. No, folks, I’ve LOST weight from all the upchucking. Nice.

8. I watched a tv show about IVF this morning and just kept crying. Throughout the whole pregnancy thing I have been wondering why I do not feel more special, or pregnant, or mom-ish. My reaction to the IVF programme obviously indicates there is a lot going on under the surface, even if I appear to be disbelieving that there are babies in my stomach. My nipples, vomit, and poochy tummy provide proof things are happening (a disco party? hair braiding? basketball games?) and I STILL DON’T BELIEVE IT. I don’t know if this is normal or what.

9. Nine weeks two days pregnant today.

Part two.

January 22, 2009

When I moved from the bedroom to the lounge this morning, I had to carry my Important Things in a novel way, thanks to the crutches.

Yes, I shoved my chapstick, phone, and giant tupperware box full of crackers (AKA nausea-fighters) deep into my underwear. And this seemed perfectly normal and reasonable.

8 weeks 3 days preggo with two eggos.

January 20, 2009

In my limited experience of pregnancy, I’d have to say that each experience is different. In some ways, I think I’m getting off lucky with my symptoms. In others, I think – ‘Jesus CHRIST, I’m throwing up all the time!’

This is my twin pregnancy: I’ve been lying on the couch for three weeks now due to The Accident. This means I can take naps at will, focus on eating, and just generally rest emotionally and physically. I can’t compare what this pregnancy would be like if The Accident hadn’t happened. This is the experience as I’ve had it.

A big boil next to my nose (awesome), huge red patches of dry skin on other parts of my face (awesomer), and a wee little golden beard that TMD said the light glinted off last night (awesomest!). I’m throwing up 1-2 times a day, and having horrid dry heaving 1-2 times a day as well. A lot of bad nausea at all hours of the day. Sore boobs, bright nipples, veins so luminous the skin barrier appears to be disappearing. They are now on my abdomen as well. I also have The Dizzies now and then.

None of this particularly bothers me. The cosmetic stuff is merely that – surface level things that don’t really matter. The nausea is a bit more, well, gross. You know how sometimes when you throw up you can’t catch your breath between heaves? That’s me, every night after dinner. Last night it happened in the bathtub. I’m waiting excitedly for the time I manage to make TMD throw up in sympathy; her gag reflex has kicked in on a few occasions, and now I’m not allowed to talk about throwing up because it makes her nauseous. Hell YEAH.

I find myself getting increasingly obnoxious, particularly at bathtime (am I a toddler myself?) because of the accompanying pain from The Accident.

TMD: Boy, my muscles hurt.
Me: You get run over by a fucking motorcycle and THEN you can talk about your muscles hurting.

TMD: Boy, I’m tired.
Me: Tired? You get pregnant with twins and THEN you tell me how fucking tired you are.


TMD: (nothing. quietly sitting minding her own business)
Me: *sobbing* You’d better appreciate me! And these babies! Look what I’m doing! I’m all fucking sick from carrying YOUR unborn children!

Yeah. It’s probably a good thing I’m locked away in the house. I still can’t believe I’m still off work. The muscle pain continues to improve; nerve pain still there, but also not as intense. I can now reliably manage to take myself to the bathroom most of the time. I can also put weight on The Leg to help me stand up. I think the real problem now is that the muscle has contracted. I can’t straighten my leg and put my foot flat on the floor when I’m standing. I think I need to start some stretches or something. Three weeks of not using the muscle can’t be good, hey?

Haven’t heard anything from the hospital yet – I’m hoping an appointment letter for the 12 week scan will come through sometime soon. In the meantime, I’m going to watch Obama’s inauguration today, write Christmas thank yous, perhaps send Christmas cards to those who did not get cards (we ended up sending NONE because of the whole IVF/pregnancy thing). It’s all a bit awkward as only a very limited number of people know about the babies. This leaves us with no real excuse for ignoring everyone at Christmas. (Sunbonnet Sue, I think of how I have not sent you a card like every day. No lie.)

One good thing is that TMD has put this shit I call ‘Napalm’ on my nose-boil. It’s essentially cream for diaper rash, but it’s awesome for spots. It’s turned the giant boil into a tasty little scab. I’ve liked scabs since I was a kid. I find myself touching The Scab like three times an hour. Delicious!

Can you guess what my new favourite word is?

January 16, 2009

Okay, some more medical stuff, then back to pregnancy stuff!

Talked to Joy yesterday, which fired me up to ring my doctor and say I was getting pins and needles in my foot. He said I needed to come in for an emergency appointment. While pushing various points on my leg (it’s a nerve, I knew it was a nerve, please allow me to be smug in my painful fake doctor sort of way) I was hitting the wall, yanking my leg away, etc. He became worried that I had this syndrome thing and said I needed to see Ortho at the hospital right away.


I went back to the hospital, saw the head surgeon, who told me all sorts of terrifying things about 12 hour windows and AMPUTATIONS, and then calmly told me I didn’t need to worry about that. I actually grabbed his hand, like a feeble old woman, and said, ‘Thank you, thank you.’ He said that I had deep bleeding and bruising in the calf muscles, and that it would be irritating my nerve. He said that because I can’t take anti-inflammatory medication, the swelling would be hurting my nerve. He then said I had to go back for a follow up if things didn’t settle down.

The hospital scheduled it for this morning. WTF. After waiting for an hour in a sea of people with broken bones, I saw another Ortho guy. He said I had a swollen and stretched nerve, but that I could expect a complete recovery. He also said there was no predicting how long it would take for the nerve to settle down – anything from two weeks to months.

(Note: angry nerves in your leg. You want to know what that feels like? Bang your funny bone extra hard. Take a snapshot of how it feels in that first intense three seconds. Then stretch it down the entire length of your leg.)

Say it with me, ‘Awesome.’ You know what else is awesome? I strained my left shoulder muscle really badly when getting out of the bathtub this morning. You can imagine how much easier that makes using crutches!

He also said I could put full weight on my leg now, as that would be possible even with a broken bone. I explained that I couldn’t actually straighten my leg – I think this guy forgot my original injury was not this nerve pain, but a torn calf muscle or muscles. I think I’m going to definitely need physiotherapy.

Let us continue on a symptomatic front, before I wax lyrical about pregnancy and itsy bitsy babies.

My morning sickness is BACK. I’ve read in all the books that it peaks at nine weeks pregnant, unless you are pregnant with twins. It’s not the sort of I-want-to-die horribleness it was before – now I would classify it more as a public embarassment. A new development seems to be violent and deep dry heaving…including lots of unfortunate burping while I am retching. This happens a lot in the car. Or, you know, in emergency room waiting areas.

I am throwing up dinner every night, so am now taking my prenatal vitamins after lunch. This system seems to be working. Although I just had my omega and my multivitamin balanced on my crotch, and so help me god, I can’t find the vitamin. Please don’t let the cat eat it.

I also may take some pictures of my thighs for you to witness. You know those thick markers kids use? Well, if you took a greenish blue one of those and just drew all over your body with it – that’s what my veins look like. It’s most apparent in my thighs, though due to my fair skin my arms also look like someone has been colouring on me. TMD says my entire lower back is green, and she has suggested that perhaps I am pregnant with The Hulk’s babies.

Let’s hope not. At least I don’t have to worry about them being born capable of glowing in the dark, thanks to the fact that I managed to avoid getting x-rays.

The update to end all updates. AKA: Have you ever sued anyone for a personal injury?

January 15, 2009

I suppose if I was writing this a few months from now, I could make this entry funny. But, quite frankly, I’m not in the mood. I’m still experiencing a high level of pain. Went to A&E on the weekend, and I was there for ages. They were checking me for this trauma-related syndrome and said I would probably need surgery. My left foot was ice cold and they were having trouble finding a pulse.

I was freaked out about x-rays and medications during pregnancy, but resigned that if it had to happen it had to happen. It was more painful considering what x-rays might do than my leg could ever be – and that’s saying quite a lot. I’ve never felt such intense, agonising pain in my life – and such persistance as well. We’re trying to find little ways to make things bearable, but it’s difficult. TMD has now taken half days the rest of the week, because I can’t get off the couch to go to the toilet, get food, etc.

Morning sickness is also in full flow again. Dry heaving and vomiting every day. AWESOME stuff.

So. What happened?

I came out of a meeting at a client’s house. It was dark, just after 6 pm. This particular road has crossings but very few of them. I realised I was walking the wrong way. I could see a crossing, and actually had the thought that maybe I should walk up to it and use it. (Though I have crossed this road about six million times in the past 5 years.) Then I saw that I was directly across the street from the bus stop I needed to use.

I waited until all the traffic on my side of the road was stationary, and there was no traffic coming the other way. I started crossing the road, and the next thing I knew everything was black and I was sat on the road. Immediate pain flared in my left knee, and then a mental voice screamed, ‘The babies! THE BABIES!’ I started to struggle to get up and out of the road. A man at the side began to rush over and yelled, ‘Don’t move. Stay still!’

I yelled, ‘I’m pregnant and I am not staying in the middle of the road!’ The p-word was miraculous. Suddenly people were running from every direction to help me up. The man who hit me yelled, ‘You shouldn’t have crossed the road like that!’ at me, and I just said, ‘I’m pregnant.’

An ambulance and the police were called. The pain in my left leg was terrible, but I was much more concerned about the babies. In the ambulance my whole body was shaking uncontrollably. I called TMD and couldn’t stop sobbing. The ambulance lady was lovely and kept me talking, which calmed me a bit. She kept trying to check my knee and other injuries, and I kept saying, ‘I don’t care about any of this. I just want to see if the baby or babies are okay.’

At the hospital, I started shaking again. I was seen pretty quickly (again, I think the p-word opens a lot of doors) and the consultant only seemed interested in my knee. He asked me to bend it and said there was no fracture if I could bend it, and that they couldn’t do an x-ray at that stage in the pregnancy (six weeks). There was a dull ache in my calf, but at that point it didn’t really register.

Then they did an over-the-tummy scan. I said to the doctor, ‘I don’t know if I have one baby or two. And I don’t care if there is one or seven, I just want them to be okay.’

I figured things were alright when he began to give lessons in how to diagnose pregnancy via ultrasound to another doctor, but still. He put the thingie on my stomach, smiled, and said, ‘Well, well, well.’ That also relieved me, though he didn’t take the trouble to tell me things were okay at that point. I heard him begin talking to the other doctor, and the words ‘two gestational sacks’ were definitely mentioned.

He said the sacs were intact, that there were two yolk sacks, etc. He then swivelled the screen and said, ‘Well, miss, did you hear what I said?’

I replied, ‘I have two?’

He said, ‘You definitely have two, maybe more.’ MAYBE MORE? What the fuck? He said that the pregnancy was fine. He showed me both sacks and attempted to let me listen to both heartbeats. This all freaked me out as one sack was much larger than the other, and the heartbeat was mostly audible and I could see it registering on the monitor under the ultrasound. Baby #2’s heartbeat wasn’t so simple.

The weird thing about all of this was how I felt. Emotionally. Normally even a papercut (maybe a slight exaggeration) would require me to have mood swings – fear and needing TMD there, to RAGE that she was not there. I did not care that she was not there. I did not care about being alone at the hospital. (After I got hit, the woman chairing the meeting came along and said she would go to the hospital with me. I refused. My co-worker offered to come – I refused. And then there was a knocking on the back door of the ambulance and my friend G was there! He hugged me and said, ‘How are you?’ He too offered to come.)

Nothing mattered. I didn’t feel like my being supported was the priority, I felt like making sure those babies were okay was the absolutely most important thing on the planet. In the hospital, I was so worried about miscarriage and the fact that I would feel responsible for it.  This was a terrible pain that was all consuming.

So. Since the accident, a range of problems have occured. Muscle spasms in my foot, calf, thigh, back. Pain in my hip, knee, and ankle. Assorted cuts and bruises.

But my calf? Incomparable. Apparently it’s a tear of the calf muscle – it might take 3 to 4 weeks for the pain to begin to go away. AWESOME. I’ve not been back to work since the accident, as obviously at this point I can’t even pee without assistance. I’m worried about some sort of nerve problem as well. I’ve had tingling in my left foot. Yesterday if I pushed my toes, I had very painful tingling.

I don’t know if this is normal pain associated with this type of injury, from being mostly immobile, or something more serious. Going to do some hardcore googling.

Anyway. We went for the proper scan in the city on Monday. I vomited in the car the whole way there, managing to open the car door and tip out my sick bowl in the middle of the road. We parked about a (normally) 30 second walk from the clinic, and had to take a cab the rest of the way because I just couldn’t manage it, even with my snazzy new crutches.

The scan confirmed the two babies. We saw and heard both heartbeats. The woman confirmed that it was normal to have one smaller sack than the other in twins. She also measured the babies and said both were in normal range. I’ve got about a zillion pictures and an official scan report. Essentially, one baby (as of Monday) was just over 9 mm. The other was just over 6 mm. The idea of seeing the heartbeat of such tiny things is just unreal.

The sonographer counted my due date from the embryo transfer, not the egg collection – so that pushed my due date back to August 29. It also made me three days ‘less’ pregnant. When my mom was pregnant with me, she was due on August 29. I think that’s quite cool. Also moderately disturbing to think about my parents having sex.

We met with the doctor who did the embryo transfer very briefly after the scan (after we’d had a longer meeting with the nurse). She warned us about vanishing twin syndrome – that in 50% of twin pregnancies, they reduce down to one baby. I asked when this would happen by, and she said twelve weeks. I confirmed with her that if there were two babies at my twelve week scan, chances are things would officially be good to go.

She said I could choose to come in for a nine week scan, but she didn’t really see a reason for that as both babies were in the normal range and everything was healthy.


I think that’s everything. I need to not be sitting up any more.

Only me.

January 11, 2009

It’s me, the feckless hero. I was hoping by now this would all be an exciting, stupid story. Of course I got run over, why wouldn’t I? Ha ha ha, rinse and repeat.

Instead I’m in more pain than ever. Doctor this week said he doesn’t think I’ll need surgery, but pain steadily getting worse. I cannot move unless I am using crutches, and have my Bad Leg propped up on a chair that TMD slowly pulls while I hobble along behind, usually crying or screaming at her. I can no longer straighten my leg while in an upright position.

TMD is showering, and then we’re going to A&E just to get things checked out again. I feel like I could perhaps deal with this pain if I knew it was normal. It just feels like something is terribly, terribly wrong. Being pregnant, painkillers that actually kill pain are out of the question. My doctor offered me codeine. Um, no.

Anyway. Off to the hospital.

I have an update on the pregnancy as well, but won’t feel totally okay about everything until we have the official scan tomorrow, so I’ll wait to give you that news. All of this has been pretty emotionally devastating, thinking what I might have done to our family. All things considered, I am pretty fucking lucky.

I almost hope for my leg to be put into a cast – though I bet I would regret that little statement if it actually happened – just because it feels and appears that my leg is shrinking and cannot be comfortable unless it is at a very odd angle and bent.

Thanks for the kind comments. Send healing vibes my way.