It Was Fun While It Lasted

Dear Secret Blogiary,

The Great Period Watch of 2011 is at an end! I started my period today. It hit me as I drove to work and I exploded in a fit of road rage when fellow commuters would not let me merge. I must have gone through my entire repertoire of curses in one long strung together outburst. Thankfully, I am only a verbal road-rager, and usually only right before I get my period. So I had the inkling that I might actually be starting, but as that was the only sign, I didn't get my hopes up. But the evidence was there when I got to work and went to the bathroom. Thankfully, like a good Girl Scout-or member of the Cult of MacGyver-I am always prepared.

As I have previously stated, I was going to be okay with either result and it looks like The Faboo Ms. Dee and her dream prediction was the most accurate of all fortune telling devices. And she might have been right about the psyching myself into it, since honestly I did get the "pregnancy feeling." So maybe I was going through a phantom pregnancy.

I had one moment with a deep sigh and a bit of an “phooey” in the back of my head, but as I was thinking about it, it wasn’t that I wasn’t expecting that made me sad, it was that I wasn’t going to be pregnant at the same time as BFF Lindsey.

I will still be making an appointment with my doctor to find out what went screwy. I am not convinced it was stress as my level of stress has not changed since the beginning of the year. And according to all I have read researched, it would not have been the medicine change. Well, I’ll say it should not have been. I would be silly to discount it, since that was the only thing that has recently changed in my life.

In the end though, I can now focus my creative energies into making awesome baby stuff (baby Cthulu stuffed doll maybe? A Borg Cube? Something Ninja-ee?) for an awesome friend who is going to have an awesome baby…

…Or two…

The Magic 8 Ball seems to suggest she might be having twins.

Where's The Great Zoltar When You Need Him?

Dear Secret Blogiary,

The Great Period Watch of 2011 continues with breaking news:

The Faboo Ms. Dee (the only other person I told about the possible pregnancy) had a dream last night in which my car broke down on the side of the road and she came to my aid. Concerned about my lack of menstruation, she brought me directly to a doctor’s office wherein the doc did a thorough search of my innermost cavities and declared I was not pregnant.

I told Ms. Dee that I was relieved that her fortune telling dream indicated a positive resolution to the dilemma to which she respond, “No you are not! You have psyched yourself into wanting a pregnancy and therefore your body is responded to it.”

Well, sure there might be that, but as I’ve said, either way I’ll be content. I just want an actual tangible answer. By the time I got home I was convinced that I could get the answer using more reliable methods.

I turned to the Magic 8 Ball. Except for the unfortunate fact that I couldn’t find my Magic 8 Ball! I did the next best thing: Google. Turns out there are actual FREE Magic 8 Ball generators online! Who knew?

Here, you input your question, click submit and low the Wonder that is the Magic 8 Ball takes place.

Me: Am I pregnant?
M8B: Maybe.
Me: Umm, could you please be more specific?
M8B: Yes.
Me: “Yes” you can be more specific or “yes” I am pregnant?
M8B: Please Ask Again Later.
Me: Is it later enough for you?
M8B: Yes.
Me: Am I pregnant?
M8B: Maybe.
Me: ARGH!!

Okay I think, certainly there are other methods of telling your fortune and getting a straight answer from the fates.

Let’s try Tarot. I didn’t think I would find a free tarot card reading site, but on my first Google attempt I found this. I got to choose the spread, “Burning Question." It seemed appropriate. And these are the cards I got in order:

1. Four of Cups
2. Eight of Spades
3. Ten of Pentacles
4. Ace of Pentacles
5. Transformation
6. Temptation
7. Two of Cups

Overall the whole thing was confusing. I got that Cups are all about fertility, love and relationships, Transformation and Temptation are self explanatory. Spades are used in gardens to dig ditches for planting which is clearly related to implantation of sperm! Pentacles are pointy and are related to magic, right? And birth is magical…And certainly if I am pregnant, magic was involved as I cannot imagine how I might have conceived. As there wasn’t an actual answer I’ll go with a “maybe.”

Next up? The I Ching. This is clearly the way to go, I thought. It has been around since before the Jurassic and predicted everything up to 2012. It has to be accurate. And once again I was amazed to find a free online version here.

I asked my question, “Am I pregnant,” and got the follow line sequence:

This is Lu or "Worrying the Tiger." According the result since I tread on the tiger’s tail and it didn’t bite me I have an Epic Win! But for some reason the essential message remained: Uncertain.

Go figure.

Okay, I think, let me deal with a fortune telling device that is connected to me, to my heritage: Runes. Sure enough Ask Google and the Internet provides. Free online rune casting. Since I do not know anything about runes I let the website choose which spread to cast.

It picked the Fork Spread, a three rune casting with two runes up top and one centered beneath. Left Rune reads as “Ken” reversed which signifies ignorance. The right rune is “Ansuz” or the voice of God, as it is reversed as well, it means that I am deaf to God’s instructions OR that I am not listening at all! The last rune, “Othila” represents the homeland which relates to stability and safety.

Take these all together with my question and I am ignorantly not listening to my homeland. Not listening to my ignorant homeland? My homeland is ignorant and not listening?

Once again, the online fortune tellers have left me even more confused and frustrated. But then, then my friends, I get a brilliant idea! What is the one fortune teller that trumps all others EXCEPT the Magic 8 Ball? That’s right, the Cootie Catcher!!

Like a Cootie Catching Champ, I folded that fortune teller up and wrote the following responses on the inside: two yeses, two no’s, two maybes, one “Don’t you think you should go to the doctor already?” and one, “Are you sure this is the best method for determining pregnancy?” Now since I made the Cootie, I couldn’t ask the question myself, so I enlisted Mister W. who, although doubtful of the accuracy of the test, played along for my sake.

Me: Pick a color.
Mister: Red.
Me: Pick a number.
Mister: Seven.
Me: Pick another number.
Mister: One.
Me: Pick another number.
Mister: (eyebrows raised higher than I have ever seen before) Really?
Me: You have to pick three numbers.
Mister: Fine…Seven.
Me: (opening the Cootie Catcher and frowning) Hmm.
Mister: Well?
Me: “Don’t you think that you should go to the doctor already?”
Mister: HA! Haven’t I already told you that?
Me: Clearly, this might be more than The Cootie Catcher can handle. This is BIG! Important.
Mister: Uh huh.
Me: No really! Cootie Catchers are more for like, “Does Tommy like me?” or “Will there be a pop quiz in algebra tomorrow“ or “Will I get caught if I smoke crack in the bathroom?”
Mister: That’s the kind of questions you ask?
Me: No! Of course not, I’m just saying…
Mister: Uh huh. Tell me, Hon, when do I need to start thinking about getting you committed?
Me: Um…Never?

So there I was staring at Mister W. staring back at me and all I could think about was what methods of divination had I not tried yet. And then it hit me. The most accurate method I’ve ever seen specifically regarding pregnancy! The Needle Test. A tiny sliver of steel had accurately predicted what I was having the first two times. Grabbing my sewing kit I pulled Mister W. into the bedroom.

Mister: Now what?
Me: The Needle Test.
Mister: (rolling his eyes and sighing) If I do this will you stop?
Me: Of course (clearly he doesn’t know me as well as I thought).
Mister: Fine.

In case you might not know, the Needle Test involves hanging a needle on a thread, rubbing the thread up and down the inside of a woman’s arm a few times and then holding the needle and thread over her wrist. If the needle moves in a circle, the baby is a girl. If it moves back and forth, the baby is a boy. This is continued until such time as the needle stops dead about the wrist which means that there will be no more children.

If the woman already has children the needle will cycle through the existing children first, so for example, I would expect that the first two times the needle was hung over my wrist, it would swing in a circle. The next time the needle hung over my wrist would reveal the “current” child. And then Mister W. would keep going until the needled stopped. With this test you can also predict how many children one might have.

Mister W. placated me and performed the test. First time: Circle for Big Sis. Second time: Circle for Little Sis. Third time: Back and forth!! Fourth time: Dead stop.

So, this could mean one of two things: 1. I am indeed pregnant and it is a boy. Or 2. Sometime in the future I will have a boy.

Maybe.

Secrets are hard to keep especially if you don't know whether you actually have a secret.

Dear Secret Blogiary,

I am now on Day 12 of The Great Period Watch of 2011. Three pregnancy tests have told me that I am not pregnant and from what I have garnered from the web, from the pharmacist and from one of the two people I have mentioned this to, the wacky pregnancy hormone hCG should have turned up by now if I am indeed in a delicate condition. Despite that, I am either conjuring up pregnancy symptoms like some neurotic dog with a Phantom Pregnancy, or I really am and I have incorrectly estimated the date of my last period and the hCG just hasn't built up enough.

The problem is, well, it isn't really a problem, but I think that I am actually leaning towards the side of wouldn't it be cool to be just a little bit pregnant. Especially in light of a certain revelation from BFF Lindsey in Japan. BFF Lindsey Skyped me the other day to inform me that she was expecting and engaged.

I had The Girls young and out of my really good friends only BFF Rose and now BFF Lindsey have (will have) little ones. I certainly have friends with kids. But it isn't the same as being pregnant at the same time. It could totally be like the Pregnancy Pact but without manipulative conniving teenagers.

Creepy. Right?

In any case, The Great Period Watch of 2011 will continue until Sunday. If by then I haven't started yet, off to the doctor I will go. And if it turns out that I am indeed pregnant, well, I will offer a cute little grin and be happy. And if it turns out that I am not pregnant, well, Mister W is all ready to set up an appointment to get neutered, and I will accept that two beyond beautiful, well-mannered, funny and irresistible children are just perfect for me.

I guess what I am saying, either way I'll be good and I am not going to actively try to bake me up a bun!

Waiting.

Dear Secret Blogiary,

I have two beautiful girls and for a long time after I was diagnosed with Factor V (why I had to take Coumadin) I was filled will angst because I was told I should not have any more children. The Coumadin I was required to take would cause birth defects and just being pregnant could potentially cause problems.

Mister W and I wanted four children. It took a long time for me to accept just having two. A long time. I logged hours and hours of talks with Mister W., with friends and family about why it wasn’t “safe,” why two was enough, why this had happened to me. I cried. I yelled. I cursed.

It was unfair, I cried to Mister W. one day about two years after I started on Coumadin. Little Sis was about two and a half and at the perfect age I thought to add another. The age difference between Big Sis and Little Sis is roughly six years and that, I felt, was too big of a gap. I told him that it wasn't right people who had no business having children popped them out like rabbits, but we, in a secure relationship, a stable financial situation and we – smart and not hideous – couldn’t have anymore.

We had one scare in all those years. One tiny oops. A condom broke and I will say honestly, we were not upset that I might get pregnant, we were upset that I was on Coumadin and that could harm the baby. After that, Mister W. said he would have a vascetomy, but I did not want him too. I was still selfish about wanting children. I didn't want to do something that we might later regret so because of me, he is still potent.

Over the years, my attitude developed into one of acceptance. In the back of my head, a third would have been welcome, but it was kind-of nice not having to worry about schlepping a diaper bag around, paying huge amounts of money to a daycare, being able to be spontaneous and free enough to jump in the car and just go.

This past year when Little Sis turned 8 and my BFF Rose had her baby, I finally felt okay with only two. Nine years is too much of an age gap. It would be like raising three only children rather than a family of close siblings.

When I stopped taking Coumadin in January, Mister W. asked if I did so in order to procreate some more. And I was able to truthfully tell him, “no.” I accepted my two, I was happy with two. Two were all we needed.

I am a week late. A week is a long time in someone who has been regular like Big Ben since she was in 8th grade. I play it off, hoping that my system is screwed up because I was majorly sick last week. But I certainly am worried enough to buy a pregnancy test. And use it immediately upon arriving home.

No plusses…but still no period.

I am waiting.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do...Especially when you have to dump your doctor

Dear Secret Blogiary,

A month ago, I stopped taking my rat poison Coumadin which keeps my blood from its over active clotting action. A month ago after a year of talking with my doctor every month about alternatives to Coumadin and six months after I got tired of my doctor telling me “no, you will be on Coumadin for the rest of your life,” I stopped taking my “life saving” Coumadin.

I spent six months reading lab research, published medical articles and researching for myself the effects of Coumadin and the alternatives to taking a drug that was originally created to kill rats. I looked at natural supplements, dietary changes and other factors that might make and effect on my thick blood.

I told my doctor about the information I found and he continued to insist upon handing over a prescription telling me it was by far the “safest” route to take.

Safe means safe. Right?

Maybe not so much if you read the side effects that are often times worse than the original problem. Clearly in other medical cases, medicine created in a laboratory is needed, but in my case? I can manage my issue with a daily regiment of vitamins and minerals.

So for a month now every morning and evening I have been taking a handful of natural supplements that do the same job as Coumadin with the additional benefit of not destroying my liver.

And every morning The Girls make a big show about making sure I take my pills: garlic, 2 Cod liver oil, 2 vitamin E, 1 low dose aspirin and a flax seed oil. In the evening I take another Cod liver and flax seed.

Clearly changing medicines is something that should be done under supervision, so after breaking up with my doctor, I am back on the "doctor market" looking for a doctor who will support my desire to maintain my health in a natural way.

One month ago, I made a decision to change my life. I was very nervous the first week, a little less so now. Every twinge in my back makes me wonder, every ache in my leg gives my heart a little flutter. But I am still alive and still good to go. I am happy with the change and although I am taking more pills, I feel it is a better life style choice for me.

I am so glad that I was home for this today

Dear Secret Blogiary,

What I don’t understand is why people have to be assholes. I went camping over the long weekend (I’m working on a post about it) and the last day it rained. So I have wet equipment. Wet tent. Wet fly. Wet chairs. Wet sleeping bags.

Clearly, the equipment needs to get dried out in order to prevent mold, mildew and other rot from taking over. So, I kept the tent in my trunk until it cleared up and then set it up in the driveway to dry at the first hint of a warm sunny day. And then it rained. Again.

Clearly, I am not going to leave the tent up forever! I would like to park in my driveway again. But it has now been set up for two days and I have been out with towels encouraging it to dry. It is not my fault that the weather is not cooperating.

So today, who shows up at my door? The neighborhood Nazi I mean the community “manger,” Anne and her lurking evil sidekick Haggy (I don’t know her name but she sure as hell looks like a nasty hag with required scowl and hairy moles).

Anne: (nodding over her shoulder at the tent) You know that isn’t allowed to be there, right?

Me: It’s drying out.

Anne: (looking back at Hag and tent) What do you mean?

Me: (confused because here I thought I was speaking plain English) Umm. The tent is wet. I am trying to dry it out.

Anne: Well, it isn’t supposed to be there. You need to take it down.

Me: Clearly. In fact, as soon as it is dry I plan on doing that very thing.

Anne: Well?

Me: Well what?

Anne: Go take it down.

Me: Now?

Anne: (impatiently glaring at me) Yes. It isn’t supposed to be there.

Hag: (glaring) Hrumph.

Me: Yes. So I gathered from the three times you have now told me that. It is not dry yet.

Anne: (taking out a little doorknob hanging “ticket”) Well, I am going to have to give this to you.

Me: Okay.

Anne: When will you take the tent down?

Me: Really? I‘ll take it down when it is dry.

Anne: (handing me the ticket) And when exactly will that be?

Me: (looking up at the sky as I take the ticket) Well, assuming that it doesn’t rain again today, then, as soon as the tent is dry. As I have said.

Hag: (glares and scowls while tapping her foot)

Anne: So you’ll take it down today?

Me: Jesus! Really? I’ll take it down when it is dry!

Anne: (turning away from the door) Well, I will be checking back later. See that you take it down.


I guess it was a good thing they didn’t go out back to see the rest of the gear.



See that? I have a permanent record now! I'm a hard-core bad ass now!!



Florida Perils

Dear Secret Blogiary,

As further proof that people need clear instructions so as to avoid doing stupid shit: