Quick update: my friend, J, did not announce a pregnancy today at lunch. I don’t know if I feel more 1) relieved that I don’t have to deal with it for at least a few weeks or more 2) foolish that I worried so much. Infertility has made me a suspicious, paranoid, crazy person.
My lap is scheduled for Thursday morning. I would say I am nervous about these things, in this order:
3. Finding out it was all for nothing because I don’t have a septate uterus
2. Recovery and gas pains
1. Waking up at 5 am to give myself an enema
I went for pre-testing last week and was given lots of colorful brochures. One, entitled pain management, has the typical smiley face scale useful when rating your pain.
It explains that during recovery I will be asked to rate my pain every few minutes so they can determine how much of what kind of medicine to send me home with. Meaning, I will say 10 10 10 10 10 because you know I love narcotics and I like to have a nice little nest of leftovers at all times.
When I got there the lady made me stand on a digital scale. I hate scales. My weight flashed and I said “Hey that’s awesome, it’s in kilograms and I have no idea what that means!” She just stared at me blankly and then pressed a button which switched it over to pounds. Bitch.
While I was there they drew blood for a pregnancy test (ha…ha…it’s hilarious, I know). One nurse was prepping me for the blood draw while one was going over a list of medical conditions with me: “I’m going to name a bunch of conditions, stop me if any of them apply to you.” Of course the other nurse couldn’t get the needle in, so while I’m feeling it bump around on either side of the vein repeatedly I’m being barraged with her droning on and on: “rheumatoid arthritis, cancer, lupus, HIV/AIDS, type 1 diabetes, type 2 diabetes, gout, anxiety, depression, heart disease, liver disease...” Finally when she was done blabbing and the other nurse had gotten my blood I looked at her and said “I didn’t hear anything you just said.” The because there was a needle in my vein while you were talking, dumbass was implied.
The strange unmedicated symptoms continue. I have blue, veiny boobs. I’ve never had blue, veiny boobs in my life. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was knocked up.
Happy Valentine’s day to everyone. I kind of hate Valentine’s day – it seems like it makes single people as miserable as Mother’s day makes us – and A and I decided not to celebrate today. We’ll pick another day when we’re not so busy and flowers aren’t so expensive and the restaurants aren’t so packed. He is romantic in his own sweet, simple ways. I am extremely lucky to have him, but I know that every day.