Gettin' Ready

Surgery is schedule for Tuesday.  I feel like I'm stuck in a very unfunny version of Groundhog Day but I've come to terms with it.  I'm tired of crying about it, it's not gonna change anything so instead I'm putting my anger to good use.  I've been using my elliptical machine at least 4 times a week for a month now.  At first I could barely make it 5 minutes but now I'm on there for at least a mile, sometimes much more if I don't crank the resistance up too much.
It feels good to sweat out my frustrations about the surgery, about all of our fertility problems, about my fears for my dad's health, about how my heart aches when I think about the social issues my sweet nephew may face if he doesn't grow out of his tourette's.  I get mad and it pushes me further than my legs think they can take me.  By the time I'm done I've surrendered my anger and hurt and all that's left is accomplishment.  I drag my sweaty self into the shower feeling like my problems are somehow smaller because I'm stronger.  It's as if my body is ready to get in a boxing ring with the my surgeon/infertility/MS/tourette's & take any and all of them down.

Say What?

Last year I went thru the process of having a lump removed. I found the lump, had a mammogram, had a biopsy where they inserted a marker into the tumor to indicate the tumor had been checked out if we opted against surgery and eventually decided to have the lump removed. After the surgery it was nearly impossible to do a self exam of that breast because the tissue was so dense from the surgery scar tissue. I had just started doing self exams again when I found this new lump. I was devastated. We were just about ready to do another round of TTC when I found this lump. I really dont want to go thru another surgery. It was pretty miserable the last time. The fact that I produced two lumps in two years had DH and I seriously considering removing the whole breast to avoid going thru this again next year.
I went in for my mammogram yesterday. When she was done putting my girls in that vice-like machine that was so obviously designed by a man she asked me to wait while the radiologist reviewed the scans but was pretty sure I was going to need an ultrasound too. After a little while she came back out saying she needed more views and I was going ton have to get tortured by that damn machine again. While talking with her she asked why I was getting this lump checked out again. It turns out that the marker they put in during the biopsy was still there. I don't know what got removed during the surgery but at least a big portion of the lump was never removed. I have an appointment with the surgeon Thursday afternoon (her nurse called within two hours of me leaving the diagnostic center to schedule this appointment). I can't fathom what her explanation to leaving a major portion of a tumor inside me could be but thanks to her screw up I'm going to have to have another surgery, another scar, a more disfigured breast, and another recovery period.
I'm beyond pissed.

Spray Starch Doesn't Kill Cockroaches

DH works nights, this is a series of text messages I sent to him tonight:

#1: fyi - spray starch doesn't kill roaches

#2: there's a roach trapped under a jar behind the toilet in your bathroom

#3: you're flooring probably gonna be a little sticky

#4: you need more spray starch

I have a very patient husband.

Save Second Base

My nephews are baseball crazies - seriously, they're in a tournament every weekend, it completely takes over their lives in the summer.

I sent their mom a picture of the t-shirt a friend got me to wear to my mammogram.

She's not very happy with me because one of the kids saw it and innocently (and naively) commented how cool it was and asked for one.

I'm taking my laughs where I can get them at this point, even if it makes me the bad aunt.

Mammogram in two weeks, baby making on hold till this is sorted out (because we need another roadblock).
Good times....

Boob Drama

The universe is at it again. Last fall we had to take several months off TTC because I found a lump in my breast. I had to go thru the process of seeing my gyno, getting a mammogram (ouch!), getting a biopsy, waiting three days that felt longer than a TWW, learning it wasn't cancer but was 'suspicious', getting referred to a surgeon, getting another mammogram (they should really serve drinks at these places) and ultimately having minor surgery to get it removed.
The process was grueling but I was happy to get it out.
I had had another lump removed from the same breast in my early twenties but I went straight from gyno to surgery, back then they didn't bother with torturing you for a while first. They were also able to cut around my nipple the first time to minimize the scar.
This time they cut on the outside of my right breast leaving a gnarly scar. The other thing is that having tissue removed twice from the same breast has left me noticeably lopsided. My girls are no longer identical twins, they're now fraternal.
I was coming to terms with the scar and lopsidedness and happy to have the whole thing behind me. We are gearing up to start trying again. We've picked a new donor in case our prayers for our original donor don't get answered. I've started the paperwork with the new bank and according to my estimations we should be starting up around the end of the month or the beginning of August.
I found another lump.
It's on the same side as the other two.
The universe is gearing up again and she's pissed.

Shopping Therapy

DH, bless his heart, is not good at picking out gifts.  A couple years into our relationship I had to explain to him that if you could get it at the gas station or Walgreens it probably isn't right for me.  Now we have a process that works well for both of us.  I give him a list of 5 - 10 things (complete with size, color, where to get and usually a picture) and send him on his way.  It works well for both of us.
This year I messed up the system.  I forgot to give him the list.  He'd been mentioning it, I just never got around to figuring out what I wanted.  So instead we went shopping together, which he really doesn't care for because it usually ends up costing him a lot more than when I just give him the list. By the time we left I got this insane pair of Michael Kors braided t-strap pumps, some Puma sneakers and this great DVF oversized tote.  It makes me happy, I love spending the day with my husband and not have to think about any of the stressers in our life.  We just laughed and joked around, ate greasy mall food and made out like teenagers.  It was wonderful.  So wonderful I'm having a few re-entry problems with reality.  Work is crazy right now, so crazy that I really need to go into the office this weekend but that hasn't happened yet & my house needs a little attention too.  I have this theory that, much like preacher's kids usually behave the worst, interior designers have the worst homes.  I think by the time I get home I just don't want to focus on picking furniture or accessories.
I need to get my act together, maybe I'll do that tomorrow because it doesn't look like it's going to happen today.

Iced Coffee and other Great Stuff

I live in the south where summers are ridiculous and seem to go on forever.  The average summer is two months longer than the Midwest summers I was used to growing up.  They are also relentless.  Up north we'd enjoy the random cool day, not here.  They go on forever here and there is no break.  Thru all this I still drink hot coffee.  I like a stout cup of coffee.  Iced coffee waters it down which I hate.  It randomly occurred to me the other day to get some old fashioned ice cube trays and freeze coffee ice cubes.  I'm in love.  Every night I make a pot of coffee and let it cool for a little while. Then I pour some into a tumbler and put it in the fridge so it's cool in the morning.  Whatever's left in the carafe gets poured into the ice cube tray.  In the morning I add cream, a little caramel syrup and some coffee cubes and head out.  I'm in love.  Starbucks ain't got nothin' on me.

Proof that my luck is finally changing, I'm finally getting a raise.

Further proof, I'm getting an ipad.

BFP to come.