Guilty..Your Honour

Meanwhile, back in surburbia..... Mrs Negative debated whether taking a shower or watching "Little House on the Prairie" was the more important.
As if there is even a debate in that.
Personal hygiene be damned.
Pa had to beat up 2 bullies in Walnut Grove today. Well, the bullies did lay their grimy mitts on Carolyn. And made her drop a basket of fresh eggs. I reckon a beating was the very least they deserved. But poor Pa got his ass whooped. It was 2 against 1. Even being a righteous dude won't help you in a rumble with the devils work. Luckily it all ended well. 3 broken ribs, a few black eyes & much turning of the cheek later "Justice Prevailed". The township joined forces & marched the bully brothers out of Walnut Grove. Even the Preacher joined the angry mob. I just wish they could have stampeded over little Nellie Olsen, even if by accident.
Nellie Olsen. Was there ever a more evil, pinched, robotic villan?

I am a little worried about myself.
Not for the fact that I am still recovering from surgery. I am worried about how much I am enjoying recovering.
I am a girl who normally works 9 to 5, Mon. - Fri. and still has ample hours in her day to submerge in slothing. Take away the working part...and that just leaves 24 hours of slothing.
Should I feel guilty? Or should I just shovel another muffin into my gob..and brush the crumbs onto the floor for my dog to enjoy.
Whoa! Have I completely lost my mind? What the hell am I doing on the computer? Sex and the City started 3 minutes ago! Now watch how fast a recouperating, self confessed slob can shuffle from Point A to Point B and still manage to tie back her tangled hair, lest it get in the way of the TV.

Abundant Bundles

When is assvice not assvice?
When it's good advice.
Thank you for all your comments & good advice. I will heed all from you wisely women.

During my stay in hospital, I was looked after in the Gyno ward.
There are three things in abundance in the Gyno ward.
1. Nurses.
2. Women.
3. Babies.

NURSES: The nurses were fabulous. Vigilant, caring, supportive. These gals are everywhere. All the time. They hover over your bed at insane hours, scaring the bejesus out of the novice patients. It's amazing how after a few days in their world, you adapt & comply. Instead of awakening at 3.15 am with a dizzy fright at the shadowy figure inches from your bed, your brain learns to accept the night nurse & soon you offer your arm for Blood Pressure checks & you stick out your tongue for temperature checks without even opening your eyes, heck, without even waking up! Nurses work long hours, stressful, often thankless hours & I am glad my childhood dream of becoming a nurse was abandoned when I realised I was a lazy, sleep fiend. Nurses are good people.

WOMEN: All ages, all colours, all clutching at their nether regions. If you are a patient in the Gyno Ward, you can bet your reproductive organs have been tampered with in some form. I shared a room with 3 other ladies. One lovely, one silent & one a complete lunatic. We made a nice team.

BABIES: I had not given a thought to the fact that I would be recovering surrounded by newborns. The first visit I had from Mum & Peter was right after surgery. Though I was clearly off my face, I could see the signs of concern on theirs. "I can't believe they put you in here with all these babies" Mum whispered. They were both a bit worried about my emotional state. I assured them I was fine & I was. I couldn't see or hear a wee bairn for the life of me. The next day I told them that the kids on this ward were incredibly well behaved. I swear I still hadn't even heard a peep from the babies residing just 2 door down. I was starting to think that maybe there were no newborns here after all. My first night off morphine, my senses were alert & sleep didn't come so swiftly. Then I heard them.
All night.
Squeaks, squeals & wails. A chorus of tiny cranky souls. The babies. Where the nurses murdering them I pondered? I buzzed for some drugs & finally silence overcame me. Next day I ventured out of bed. My first turn into the corridor exposed the world beyond my room & I was in the middle of maternity mayhem. I was fascinated. I was bemused. I was staring. Smiling at all the new parents. Parading swaddled cocoons. Tiny, fuzzy heads peeking out from blankets & I felt okay about this! I peered into rooms & sidestepped new mothers as they pushed their babies around on wheeled cribs. There was a miracle at each turn.
Back in my own room with the other layabouts I sat on my bed & watched a young girl shuffle by. She was pushing her tiny, crying baby around. We exchanged glances. I smiled at her & she returned one, although hers was tinged with despair. She looked sore, slow & miserable. Welcome to motherhood I thought. It's a tough gig & I understood her bewilderment. She was probably just as tired & sore as I was but she had both hands full with a noisy baby. Both my hands were free to clutch my tummy & brace for a sneeze. For the first time ever I experienced pregnancy pity. I'd only ever experienced pregnancy envy. I laid back, switched on Oprah & grabbed a Toblerone. I can't wait to be a mother, but in that moment I was happy to just be a lady with no fallopian tubes.

What the doctor ordered...

"...Do you like Scotch?" the doctor asked me as I lay flat out on the operating table.
"Why yes! I do..." I answered through my oxygen mask.
He grinned and announced "Well..here's about 120 Scotch's in one hit..." 3..2..1.. Blackout.
Ahhhhh....General Anaesthetic. Gotta love modern medicine.
My surgery was a success. I am officially sans fallopian. I really don't miss them at all.
"What A Mess" was apparently uttered a few thousand times during surgery. My doctor told me afterward that he was going to send his assistant to the corner if that phrase passed his lips one more time. My ovaries were covered in cysts, my tubes were fused to my ovaries & lots of adhesions. A curette completed the procedure & ample amounts of Morphine over the next 3 days made me sorta glad to be alive.
I spent 6 days in hospital & am now home, milking this for all it's worth. In the past 2 days my Mum has vacuumed & mopped my house & sorted all my laundry. Hubby has fluffed my pillows & gently helped me out of chairs/bed/lounge & I have had a stream of visitors bearing flowers, magazines & lunch. Who needs fallopian tubes with friends such as these?
Four key topics have romped through my head since my last update.

1. Owww. It hurts to cough, laugh, breathe.
2. I discovered Sex & The City on hospital TV repeats. How could I have missed this?
3. How is Danae? What's happening on her HPT/Cat live coverage?
4. Did that newsreader really just say that Tom Cruise proposed to Katie Holmes?

Well...heaps of other stuff too, but I'd best save that material for my next post.

...It's Time to Go....Fallopian Tubes..

So, it is apparent that my Doctor is a frequent reader of my blog.
He sure knows how to take a hint. Right after posting my last entry he called me.
He had a surgery cancellation & wondered if I would be available for a theatre date on Thursday. As in this Thursday. Wow. So soon? His good wife must have insisted on fast-tracking my operation. She knows that the less time I have to ponder the scapel & suture fest the better. Either that or Doc has been ordered by his accountant to squeeze in a few more procedures before End of Financial Year.
Of course I accepted the theatre date & hung up the phone before my brain had time to digest. I feel like we have stepped up onto the launchpad. This surgery is the last barrier between us & IVF. We are inching forward & it's good to take a step. We have marked time for too long, even taken a few steps backward. But now it's onward.
I have to go to Hospital on Tuesday morning for my pre-op formalities. The possiblility of Lap surgery has been ruled out due to my history of other abdominal surgeries and consequent adhesions, so it's scapel city. Well, just knock me out & I promise to lay still. Here's hoping for good news & a quick recovery.
My friends are already arranging a visit en-masse to my hospital bed next weekend & I was going to ask Doc to put my Tubes in an alcohol filled glass jar...just as a convrsation piece. They may as well prove useful for something. Wonder if I could E-Bay the suckers?

The Weighty Wait

I am waiting to hear back from my Doctor. It is nearly a fortnight since I saw him. He was going to schedule my surgery dates & ring me. I think I am going to have to call his office & ask if perhaps he's forgotten me?

Surely he lies awake at night thinking about my blocked tubes? Just like I do?
I can picture him...laying in bed, it's waaay after midnight. He's staring at the ceiling. His wife is awakened by the bedside lamp and sleepily props up onto one elbow. She whispers to him "A penny for your thoughts" and he would answer...."Oh, I am just thinking about Mrs Negative's completely blocked fallopian tubes and polyp. Gosh, I sure hope those ovaries are not affected. So sorry to wake you honey..do you want me to sleep in the spare room?" "Oh No!" the good wife would say "Let's talk about those tubes together! A problem shared is a problem halved, silly! Now, completely blocked you say?"

Ahhh....apparently this is not the situation.
Anyway, I will give the busy doctor a few more days to contact me before I hunt him down.

Mistaken Identity

Thank you for making me feel so welcome here on Infertility Island. It's not so bad being marooned here with such friendly inhabitants. I am more than happy for you girls to add me to your blogroll. I thought it might take a little while to be elevated to such status....! And not an initiation test in sight!

I love Sundays. Not that I need an excuse to be a lazy glutton..but somehow a Sunday makes it OK to stay in your PJ's till noon & eat innapropriate amounts of innapropriate food.

Ghostly update...or lack of; No disturbances of late. Perhaps the ghost shares my fondness for quiet, lazy weekends? I thought I heard her singing sweetly in the wee hours of Saturday morning. Something disturbed my sleep & as I rolled over to resettle I heard a sound closeby. A noise, in my bedroom. As the hair stood up on the back of my neck & I strained my ear for a replay I heard it again...what is that?? Panic soon turned to relief as I discovered the source.
Who knew my husband could produce such sweet melody from his nostrils as he slumbered & snored beside me? I suppose I am looking for odd encounters or strange bumps in the night to support my belief we have a ghost...but certainly nothing happening that requires holy water.
Thank goodness!
I was amazed to see a little article in the Sydney Herald today about Blogging! Apparently the spill all sensation on some blogs is getting people into hot water. Gossip, snarky remarks & personal admissions are coming back to haunt. One of my favourite bloggers, Heather of dooce fame got a mention! Her infamous sacking is now a www legend & even making the Australian papers! Wow!
Just to leave you with a smile. My 5 year old nephew, a new generation Star Wars fan was pretty disappointed to learn that The Black-Caped Evil Lord is actually called Darth Vader. All this time he thought The Bad Guy was called FAST SKATER. Funny, no?

The Art of Distraction

Doesn't time drag by when you're waiting for something?
I am a patient person by nature. Even so, my skills at patience have been stretched to the limits these past few years. It's always nice to have a distraction when you're infertile. Something else to focus on besides cycle days & Dr appointments. I always try to have something else to keep my mind busy & sane.
The past 12 months has provided me with an excellent challenge. We demolished our 55 year-old cottage & rebulit a new 4 bedroom home. Planning this has been a godsend, an outlet for my Piscean mind. Choosing tiles, bricks, window coverings & home decor has allowed me to run straight past the Baby Section at shopping centres and marvel at lamps, cushions & lounge suites. Fun!
3 months into our brand new dwelling, settled & colour co-ordinated, I find myself thinking about babies to stash in those 3 empty bedrooms more & more.
I needed a new distraction..something to help bring August and IVF here in a flash.
Well, I got me a distraction....but I don't want this kind.
Having no prior experience with Ghosts, it has taken a while to accept that our warm, welcoming new home has apparently attracted a visitor. An uninvited visitor.
I'm not easily frightened, or superstitious or even a believer in Ghosts....but a few unexplained incidents certainly has us spooked.
We came home one evening to find my hairdryer on. The sound greeted us as soon as we walked in. Yes, plugged in & laying on the floor of my bathroom, just blasting away. Weird. Not to mention, tres dangerous. I certainly did not leave it on that morning.
Last week, it was the hot water tap in the Ensuite. Water. Not dripping, or dribbling. Pumping out, furiously. Spraying hot water everywhere & requiring several turns of the tap to stop the flow. Thuds on the wall, loud enough to send me running to a room to investigate what the hell fell Over??? Nothing had fallen. Creepy huh? Drops of Blood (I wasn't even Menstruating for a change!) in a trail from my bathroom to the dining room wall. My dog, going CRAZY, jumping at walls & clawing at doors, whimpering...very out of character.
And the doozy......a woman's voice, loud and clear who declared "MINE!" when I was telling a friend about the tap in MY ensuite.
Eek. Strange distractions indeed.

The Winner is.....Kindness

Kindness rates really high in my books. It is a quality I've come to appreciate more & more as I've gotten older, wiser & crankier.
I've always been surrounded by kindness in one form or another. My Mum is "Undefeated World Champion of Kind". A good Mum to have at any stage.
Being Infertile has introduced me t0 a whole new world of kindness. And I have learnt that there are different levels.
When people find out you are trying for a baby, but have not fallen pregnant yet, some will come out with "Kind Guns" blazing. They will offer all sorts of comfort & even discomfort. Like my friend who told me her theory for conceiving. "I believe" she announced.."that we don't get to choose who our children are, rather that children choose us....they wait for the perfect Mummy & Daddy & that's when you fall pregnant!" She went on to explain that the perfect baby was coming for me, I just had to wait to be chosen.
Thanks.
It was supposed to make me feel better, but somehow it didn't ease the pain. Especially as I looked down at this friend's Blue-Eyed adorable 2 year old daughter & ESP'd her "You chose HER over ME??" Crazy Kid.
I have had my dearest friend offer me her eggs. As if she was able to just lay one on command & wrap it up for me. She knew her eggs were fine. She already had 3 boys to prove it. My godsons. She wants to help. Eggs aren't my problem I told her, but thank you so much for the offer. My Mum encouraged me on in the early days "Your turn will come" she assured. I'd nod. But as the months turn to years, my Mum thankfully offered that blase promise less & less. She's learnt alot about infertility while holding my hand. She knows that empty words hurt just as much as an empty uterus. She Knows that "Just Relax" "Stop Trying" and "Take a Holiday" are ridiculous solutions to infertility.
The best example of infertility kindness I've witnessed over the past 2 years is right here in the computer. The Blogs I've read. The ladies I've come to love & admire immensely. The words of support & encouragement & the hands held tight as good & bad news spills through our lives. I am gobsmacked by the little words, the lives laid bare, the stories entwined. We have a voice here. We know what living with infertility is like. We know the right thing to say. The kind thing to say. I've already been offered that kindness, 2 warm, strongs hand extended by Molly & Shelly, leaving comments for me on my brand new blog. Thanks Girls, that's my kind of kindness.xx