she’s here, albeit not by the method we would have preferred. more later when I’m not exhausted.
so, it’s mid-september. no, late september. nearly october, really. of 2011. blogging has taken a back seat to facebooking, but i’m thinking that’s going to change.
goings-on around here have been sedate, mostly knitting and canning and home improvementing (if you’ve ever wondered how many coats of primer it takes to cover dark blue glossy paint, the answer is 5) and ridding the house of the detritus of years of housemates, punctuated with the occasional visit to a new REI doc.
sometimes i wonder why i’m still trying to get pregnant. i’m nearly forty. we’ve been at this for three years. miscarriages are no fun. self-administered hormone shots are no fun. and as i learned yesterday, hysteroscopies are REALLY no fun.
this doc, at least, seems more thorough than the square peg approach over at WRAMC. he strongly advocated a reduced-carb diet (which i adhere to probably five days a week, and after the first miserable week really wasn’t that bad), put me on cabergoline, and is likely to start me on DHEA after my labs get back). he’s more expensive than WRAMC. hell, i get nauseous just thinking about how much this is costing us. but more thorough. although it is strange having invasive procedures performed in what is essentially a repurposed office.
which brings me to another point i’ve been thinking about for awhile. virginia just passed some of the most restrictive abortion clinic laws in the nation, all in the name (yeah, right) of protecting women’s health. you would think that the same regulations would apply to any clinic that performed gynecological procedures (you know, like fertility clinics). there is no difference between my REI doc performing a d&c in his office to rid my uterine lining of unwanted polyps (not that he’s had to do that, but he could) and another doc performing a d&c in his or her office to rid someone’s uterine lining of other unwanted attachments.
but no, that would never happen. can you imagine if fertility clinics had to abide by the same rules as abortion clinics? and they should, because there is no functional difference in the procedures they perform.
to be honest, after yesterday’s hysteroscopy, i’m a bit skeeved out by the less-than-hospital-like conditions in my doc’s office. tissue samples from previous patients were still out on the counter. there was no big biohazard trash can in the room. the pads on the leg rests weren’t covered with clean paper, and IMO had been there awhile. definitely a lower standard of precautions than i’m used to. which, in addition to skeeving me out, just highlights the hypocrisy of virginia.
in other news, G and i went to grapes with apes last night, and as my friend beau observed, “wow that was a douchegasm.” still recovering from the forcible dilation of my cervix that morning, i mostly sat on one of the benches and people watched. being mid/late september and all, clothing ran the gamut from shorts and tees and sandals to boots and jeans and jackets, with a good dash of typically ugly DC office attire thrown in. i’m sorry to say that ugly boots seem to be in this season, and most women sporting them didn’t seem to have the first clue about what works and does not work.
anyway. i don’t particularly want to turn into a catty bitch, so i’ll wrap this post up without further snarking about DC’s fashion blindness. if i get around to it, i’ll post some decently-lit shots of the canning i’ve been doing (three types of peach butter, strawberry preserves, tomato sauce, corn relish, pickles, and so on) – perhaps i’ll build a light box for that. and a quick shot or two of the new pot rack/light fixture that G installed over the kitchen sink, so that we can eventually move the metro shelving out of the dining room and reclaim it as, well, a dining room.
oh! and before i forget. the steer went to the slaughterhouse on the fifteenth, and the hog will go on october 11th, and this winter the new chest freezer in the basement will be filled with meaty goodness. i’ve even bought two charcuterie cookbooks in anticipation. i’m thinking of making a proscuitto – i just need to get a small fridge and rig it with some hanging hooks on the inside.
what else. don’t waste your money on Drive. go see 50/50 when it comes out. Super 8 remains the most sweetly earnest movie i’ve seen in a long time. True Blood is done for the season, so i’m going to have to get my alexander skarsgard fix from Straw Dogs, but only after re-watching the original. and when life hands you lemons, let them get squishy and moldy before throwing them at things that piss you off.
my despicable neighbors have just reduced the price on their house for the second time, for a total of in excess of $270k.
on the one hand, the vindictive part of me wants him to continue to have problems unloading it, and wants him to get the lowest price possible.
on the other hand, I just want him to go away.
drop the price another $200k, and I’ll firmly be in the latter camp.
i like baths. really i do. (if you don’t believe me, scroll down.)
but i’ve been without a functioning shower for over a week. and while baths are nice, and relaxing, and blissful, and yadda yadda yadda, they take time. which i don’t have in the mornings.
and it’s hard to wash my hair. or rinse off properly. and i go to bed damp, and my hair sticks up like a haystack in the morning.
can’t win for losing.
[ed note: the photo is quite misleading, as the tiling of the shower was finished today. all that remains is to have the plumbing finished and a door put in.
and in the nick of time, too – great flying spaghetti monster, there’s a terminator television series starring summer glau!
too bad it’s on fox.
i’m sure there will be more exclamations of surprise from me (and responses of, “duh, laloca” from my cadre of four devoted readers) as i re-enter the world of the living.
oh, and a word to the wise (or those who would be wiser than me): working 155 hours in 13 days, trying to keep on top of laundry, remembering to eat, finding time to sleep, trying to notice an ongoing home remodel (kitchen – done; laundry room – done; bathroom… er….) is not
the way to live one’s life. not even if you’re limiting it to 13 days.
you’re liable to end up in the ER with nervous exhaustion. no kidding. i’ll tell you all about it one day.
the more interesting story is that you get there because your husband, who has been running himself ragged trying to take care of you
and not just noticing the remodel, but actually coordinating it, as well as working 13 hour days himself and trying to get a book finished, play with the dog, exercise the ferret, and fill in for a perpetually absent boss… you get there because he spikes a 103 degree fever, has rigors, chills, and a host of other symptoms that make you think he’s got meningitis.
and when you take him to the ER… lo and behold, he’s got meningitis (viral, not bacterial). yay differential diagnosis skills of the MPH. (as opposed to the differential diagnosis skills of the JD, who says to her friend, “you know, your wife is about to file divorce papers on your ass.”)
anyhoo. that’s been doings since the new year. i’m tired and going to sleep.
awhile back, my laptop was OOC (out of commission) due to a broken dc-in board. jesse, a tech-head friend, was kind enough to fix it in return for some beer and a trout-and-asparagus dinner. for several months, all was well in the world of laloca’s laptop computing.
then, just this week, i noticed the strangest thing. my laptop wouldn’t connect to the house wireless. or rather, it would connect, but it would self-assign an IP address. it was driving me nuts. could verizon’s service really be so bad that the router was konking out at least twice a day?
well, i’m sure it could, but that doesn’t seem to be the case here. because i discovered that my laptop connects just fine as long as there’s another computer in the house actively connected to the router
strange, ain’t it?
other things i won’t have time to properly blog about:
- two problematic windows in the house were replaced, and a whole passel of storm windows were installed today. they’re burgundy, which is going to necessitate a repainting of the house’s trim. the difference on the first floor is amazing. suddenly, there’s no breeze.
- what with g and me working long hours, the dog’s getting more neurotic. i considered giving him a klonopin yesterday, but decided against it.
- i had to take 4 hours off work for a doctor’s appointment today (and managed to make it from south of 66 to walter reed in half an hour). i still put in an 8.5 hour work day.
- i should sleep more.
the plumber’s here.
the leak is coming from the ancient jacuzzi tub. only he can’t get to the leak from the gaping hole in the ceiling, because the copper pipe in question is tucked neatly up behind a whole mess of other pipes, both copper and PVC.
so the obvious solution was to shut off the water source to the tub. but the water to the tub has no shutoff.
so the next obvious solution is to shut off the main water pipe for the house. but the water shutoff for the whole house is nonfunctional, we discovered. it needs to be replaced.
from there, it’s the the shutoff valve at the street. which is corroded to the point of being nearly impossible to close. fortunately the plumbers were eventually able to close it.
the plumbers are now busting a hole in the platform surrounding the tub so they can get at the leaking pipes. tile chips and sawdust galore.
i’ve never liked that tub. other than it being a tub, and me liking bubble baths, of course.
my anxiety level: code orange.
i asked g if he heard it.
he went into the kitchen to check.
“no, i think it’s the living room,” i said.
next thing i know, he’s hollering for me. the drip drip drip drip is indeed in the living room. directly onto his (thankfully closed) computer. he was leaning over the ‘puter to shield it. i unplugged everything. grabbed the ‘puter. then the monitor. and the lamp and the printer.
snagged the crab pot from where it had been sitting next to the fireplace. put on the desk under the leak. climbed up with a razor to slice through the smallish piece of drywall that was visibly wet. didn’t count on opening up the fos de iguaçu. really
didn’t count on rotten floorboards/ceiling struts tumbling down onto my noggin.
but both did.
*sigh* and g? he realized the entire book he’s been working on (publisher deadline: later this month) is on his ‘puter, with no backup. i think that’ll change tomorrow.
you’ll need a chainsaw to cut through the anxiety in this household tonight.