It's Only Tuesday

I've got the mid-cycle munchies.

I swear I'm not making this up. It's really a thing. Since I started charting I have begun to notice a lot of patterns, and one of them is being ravenously hungry around ovulation. Apparently, building up the endometrium and the process of ovulating burns a lot of calories, hence the unprecedented hunger. The things they don't tell you in biology class!

This is great news for two reasons. The first is that I haven't had this particular hunger in a while. So in my seventh cycle after the last miscarriage, I am finally starting to feel fertile again. Even if I don't conceive, it's great to know that its possible.

Also, it is only CD13. I've had fertile CM and other signs of impending ovulation since CD9. So early for me! Usually my body hems and haws about it for almost three weeks before finally getting down to business. Dare I expect ovulation to be on time this cycle?

In other news, I have started to train for a half-marathon. A full marathon seems ridiculous to me, but I could totally run 13 miles. I think. I've run that far before when I was a teenager. Maybe I could do it again?

The only thing is that I'm not sure how this will impact my fertility. How much training is too much?

Since I started running I have been careful not to lose any weight. When I was 20 I got mono which went undiagnosed because my doctor was a complete moron. My spleen was enlarged, which pushed on my stomach, which hurt like heck and I didn't want eat for six months. I lost a lot of weight that I never gained back, so my BMI is still at about 20. I'm really not comfortable losing any more. Anyway, I "make myself" eat a bowl of ice cream every night. Darn!

Given that I stay at a healthy weight, will this training program still affect my fertility? Doctor Google isn't very clear on what constitutes "excessive" exercise. Hmmm. Maybe I will back it off a bit.

Dog Days

I didn't have many pets growing up. We had a cat and a dog that both died before I was eight, and we never replaced them. I raised a Leader Dog Puppy as a homeschool project the year I was twelve, but there my experience ended. I love animals, but my parents were always pet blocking me. They said, "When you are grown up and living in your own place, you can have as many pets as you want!"

So when I did get a place of my own away from my family, I went absolutely WILD.

We got Rousseau a few months after we got married.

Don't let her sour face fool you; getting into that box was her own idea. She loves getting into boxes of all sizes, and more the better if she gets to defy physics while doing it. That girl weighs sixteen pounds! For any Lost fans out there, we named her Rousseau because when we first adopted her from the shelter she tended to skulk around a lot and pop out when we least expected her. She also constantly has this look on her face like she is plotting to electrocute someone on bed springs:)

Then two years ago we got Morwen.


Morwen is named after a character in a children's book series called Dea.ling with Dragons. Its a hoot and a half, if you're into that kind of thing. As you may have noticed, she doesn't have a tail. Apparently she is a Manx cat, which is a breed that is born without one. Morwen doesn't seem to miss her tail, but she is absolutely FASCINATED with Rousseau's.

The kitties and their interactions with each other offer endless entertainment. They are good cats and we love them to pieces, but being cats the feeling is not mutual. We've been longing for a more affectionate pet! A dog is the natural conclusion.

But I don't want just any dog, I want this dog.

After a lot of research, I have come to the conclusion that an Irish Wol.fhound would be the best breed for us. For one thing they are famous for loving children. They're gentle, non-confrontational, easygoing, loyal, and Irish. Just like me, really:)

The only thing is that these dogs are positively enormous. We're talking 150-180 lbs. The kind of dog that needs an entire couch to himself. As one of the books I read said, "If he's standing in front of the TV he will block it. He will also block the remote".

The last few months I have been trying to subtly sell N on the idea, like casually saying, "Did you know that Wolfhounds (name benefit of owning one here)?" or leaving the breed handbook lying around on the coffee table.

Surprisingly, he has totally gone for it!

But of course a couple of things have to happen first.

1. Pay off the car (so close now!) and save some dough so we can buy a minivan, because a dog that size isn't going to fit in our station wagon. This was kind of in the plan anyway for when/if we have kids.

2. Buy our forever home, which will have a big fenced yard and hopefully be close the park with an off leash dog area.

3. Have a change in salary that will free up about $150 a month for dog expenses, as big dogs eat a lot and need more medicine.

It is incredibly motivating for both N and me, and is definitely helping me to keep my mind off of babies.

There just so happens to be a breeder about an hour and a half from us; we're planning on visiting one of these weekends so we can actually meet some of these dogs in person.

I'm fairly positive that Morwen, being completely bonkers, will love a dog to play with. Rousseau will probably skulk around for a while before finally deciding to ignore the new addition. At least, that's how I'm hoping its gonna go.

7 Quick Takes Friday (Saturday) Vol. 5

1. I am really dehydrated right now. Apparently there was an algae bloom in the river that supplies the city's drinking water, so it has this really musty scent and taste. The water company swears it isn't dangerous to drink, but I just can't stand it.

2. The house next door went up for sale a couple of days ago. Now I really am thankful that N didn't get that job; it would have been terrible to try to sell our place with the competition.

3. I spontaneously decided to make dinner, and I had to google "How to cook a chicken breast". It's a sad sad situation, folks.

4. N came home a bit ago and told me that the house next door has already sold. That's encouraging!

5. Don't you hate it when you are running on the treadmill, minding your own business, and a spider comes down right in front of your face? Yeah, I hate that too. I almost fell off the treadmill this morning!

6. The dinner turned out ok, It was a casserole with brown rice, artichokes, chicken, spinach, and zucchini from the Pion.eer Woman's website.

7. oh dear. there is a cat on my keyboard.

My job

I'm a children's librarian at a public library. Its kind of weird how I got into this field.

I was a police cadet for five years in my late teens and early twenties. When I met N, I was a junior in college and still wasn't sure what I really wanted to do, but I was operating under the assumption that I would be a police officer because that's really all I knew. N didn't exactly relish the idea of me being in harm's way for a living, and so I sat down one day and thought and thought about it.

What I came up with was librarian. What bookworm doesn't secretly want to be a librarian? It required a master's degree, and it turned out there was a good program at the same school where N had just started his PhD.

So I got a master's degree. I kind of wanted to be an archivist, because I love books AND history, but the problem with that is that there aren't many archivist jobs about. So after I finished my degree I took the first job that came my way, in a public library. And I've been stuck in them ever since.

I love libraries. I love books. I love children. So what's the problem? I have consistently worked in libraries in "bad" neighborhoods. I've been called names and threatened with violence. I'm blatantly lied to every day. Drug addicts shoot up in the restrooms. Patrons destroy library materials and property for fun. Worst of all, I have witnessed everything from bad parenting to outright abuse and neglect.

Its a bad business to be in when you desperately want children. It is so hard to see parents who have no problem procreating but don't treat the resultant children as the gifts they are. It hurts to see the children grow hardened and mean right before my eyes. And sometimes I get very discouraged when all of my hard work doesn't seem to change their lives for the better. In fact, I feel that it is the exact opposite. I am letting my job make me a worse person.

As a Christian I should treat them with love and respect even when they treat me and each other badly. Lately I have been finding this extremely difficult, but I am determined to do better. I have a tendency to lose heart and give up; I've got to start focusing on the small successes! And love, always love.

Starting next week:)

7 Quick Takes Friday Vol. 4

1. Today was my day off. Since I'm still trying to get back into the swing of things after vacation, my to-do list was enormous. It took all day, but the grass it cut, the weeds are wacked, the laundry is done, the bathroom is clean, the baseboards are spackled, my clutter is posted on free.cycle, and my office is rearranged. Whew.

2. When I was working in the yard I couldn't help but notice how fall-y it is starting to look. I can't believe summer is almost over.

3. I made a zucchini quiche for dinner tonight. I must not have squeezed out enough juice from the zucchini, because the quiche was rather...damp. But other than that it was good.

4. For dinner we also had green beans from the garden, the first ones all year. Darn shady back yard!

5. My parents-in-law are coming over tomorrow to help N finish the patio. Too bad I'll be at work all day!

6. As soon as the patio is complete we want to have a big "eat burgers on the new patio" party. It will be so nice to have an attractive yard again, as opposed to a big gaping hole.

7. I've wasted the last hour of the day trying to fix my stupid mp3 player.

God Tested Me

It was my goal to get through CD1 without crying. I knew it was coming, and I was ok with it, thanks in the most part to St. Gianna. When my period showed up yesterday morning, I accepted it more gracefully than I had in a while. I even had a mildly positive outlook on this brand-new cycle.

After work N and I went to Mr. and Mrs. E's house to play bridge. We met them at the Easter Vigil Mass many years ago when Mrs. E was behind N in line to be welcomed into the Church, and we have been good friends ever since. They have a beautiful 1-year-old daughter who I simply adore.

And it turns out that Mrs. E is expecting again. I am just over the moon for them! And at the same time, so very, very sorry for myself. The news, though happy, emphasized how long I have been waiting. In the time it took me to lose two children, she gave birth to one and is almost into her second trimester with another. It also made me feel that I will never be as happy as Mrs. E, who has no reason to expect anything but life. I feel like my life, tainted by sorrow and loss, will never be as beautiful as hers.

I made it all the way through bridge night. I even made it home (though I indulged in petty thoughts like, "Very funny, God"). I made it to 10:46pm without crying. So close. Now it is back to the drawing board.

I have to shake off these self-defeating thoughts. I have to stop living in the past and thinking about what could have been. This is the life God gave me, and he gave it to me for a reason. No matter what my trials, this life is a gift.

Today I am moving forward.

Staying

Yesterday we found out that N had been rejected for a job that he had his heart set on. We had all of our eggs in that basket, and now it's back to the drawing board. I feel bad for N's disappointment, but I'm not too torn up about it myself.

It was a good job with a good salary and a good pension. Other than that I wasn't really in love with it.

First, I had some issues with the employer. Also, we would have to move 250 miles away. But I love THIS city. I think of it as my hometown, even though I moved here only four and half years ago. I love my friends and our church and our home. I really don't want to leave, ever. Plus it would have put us even further away from our families than we already are--not a happy prospect.

The more selfish reason that I am thankful we are staying is because if God does bless me with a healthy pregnancy one day, I want to do it here where my friends can support me, dote on me, and lend me their maternity clothes.

An even MORE selfish reason is this: Before N's change of heart, the plan was to have children when he was gainfully employed and we were settled in our forever home; that's what this job would have given us. It's hard to explain, but I just couldn't stand the thought that this year of suffering and loss might have been for nothing.

The likelihood of N finding a job around here is slim, but I remain hopeful. And if we do eventually have to leave, it is now in the distant rather than immediate future. I still have time.

The downfall is that I remain the primary bacon bringer. I was sort of looking forward to be a stay-at-home-wife and someday mother. Ah well.

Lily

In January 2010 it had been six months since the last miscarriage, and I was beginning to lose hope. I had given up on that particular cycle because N was going to be out of town during my fertile days. I began to pray, “God, please just give me a normal cycle, so I will know that it is possible.” Even though I was praying that specific prayer, I was shocked when I ovulated on CD14. That had never never never happened for as long as I had been charting.
I was even more shocked when my temperature stayed elevated for seventeen days past ovulation, and I was ecstatic with joy when the pregnancy test was positive. And I had such a positive outlook on the pregnancy—why would God go through the trouble if he didn’t mean for me to keep it?

In my fifth week I went to my GP for bloodwork. I really wanted to having doubling HcG so I could relax and enjoy being pregnant. My first set of numbers was excellent—2903 at five weeks and three days. The second blood draw was on a Thursday, so I had to make it through the weekend before getting the results.
On Friday, February 5th there was a snowstorm for the history books. The city shut down. Our power went out, so we had no electricity and no heat. N ad I had fun “roughing it” for the first couple of days, and finally our utilities were working again on Sunday evening, just in time for the Superbowl. Then that night while I was lying in bed trying to go to sleep, I realized that my breasts had stopped hurting, and fear descended. I knew something was horribly wrong. I was exactly six weeks at that point.

The doctor herself called me late the next morning. Just the fact that it was the doctor calling and not a nurse confirmed what I feared. I don’t remember the specific number, but it was in the 3000’s. I didn’t really hear what she said after that. All I could think was, “It’s over”.
The city remained shut down for the rest of the week. My work was closed. And I was confined to the house, waiting for my baby to die. I can’t even articulate the horror I felt.

One day that week Older Sister called me and, knowing we had been snowed in for the better part of a week, she jokingly asked me if I was pregnant yet. I danced around the subject for a while, but in the end I couldn’t lie. Yes, I was pregnant. But I wouldn’t be for long.
Days past without any bleeding or cramps, and I began to think that maybe the doctor had been wrong; maybe my baby was still alive.

But the next Sunday, when I was seven weeks, I started to spot brown blood. I went to work that Monday, but I was plagued by a feeling of malaise and ended up going home a few hours early. I called off sick the next morning, February 16. The bleeding had not picked up but the cramps were so intense that I could barely get out of bed.

The ordeal lasted nine hours. Thinking back on it now sends me into a mindless panic. The cramps came and went like contractions, and it felt as though my womb was being ground between two stones. When I was contracting the pain was so bad that I couldn’t see or think or talk. I still wasn’t bleeding very much, and I began to question my decision to miscarry at home. I began to think I might really die.

Then, late in the evening I started bleeding very heavily, and soon after the child left my body. I was empty once again.

I don’t have happy memories of that pregnancy like I do of my first. I know I was happy at the beginning, but those feelings are obscured by the isolation, terror, and pain that I felt later. When people refer to that snowstorm it makes me feel panicky and I come close to tears. I hate the month of February. I hate the number sixteen. I hate snow. That pregnancy and miscarriage changed me; I struggle with it every single day.

And I think the reason I have struggled with it so much is because I didn't allow anyone to help me bear it. To this day, Older Sister is the only one who knows about my Lily.

It was six months ago today.

7 Quick Takes Friday (Saturday) Vol. 3

1. I didn't post this on Friday because I was in the midst of a Dr. Wh.o marathon. I hate that show with a passion, but I love it to death. It's weird.

2. Going to visit Godson tomorrow after Mass! I haven't seen him since the baptism three weeks ago--I can't wait to see how much he's grown!

3. The water supply at the community garden was finally hooked up! No more hauling water for me!

4. I got some cloth today from my mom. Hopefully I'll start some new sewing projects soon.

5. We are considering getting a dog. Not in the immediate future, but once N gets a job and we get settled in our forever home (which could be as early as this January). It's kind of exciting!

6. I spent almost eight hours in the car today. It was only supposed to be seven but we got stuck in the horrible rainstorm--N was driving but I was having a heart attack because I couldn't see the road or the cars or anything and I thought there was no way we would make it home without slamming into anything. I'm thanking God that we got home safe!

7. On that note, I really love coming home after a vacation. There's nothing quite like it. I can't wait to sleep in my own bed...

Happy Novena Day

I thought that going on vacation for most of my two week wait would be a good thing, since I would focus on vacation things and not on how unbearably slow time is moving. It turns out that this vacation is so relaxing that my mind has way too much free time. Must pray for mental fortitude!

Other than that vacation has been lovely so far. On Tuesday N and I went for a run through the backwoods, and I got to point out all of the landmarks of my childhood. Running on rough terrain is so much different than running on a treadmill. It was quite a workout!

It's a good thing we did go running, because my poor pancreas is still struggling to metabolize all of the sugar my Grandma fed me! And we went to all-you-can-eat buffets TWICE!

Right now we are holed up in a bed and breakfast in central Michigan. It is absolutely GORGEOUS. I want one just like it when I grow up. We are in the smallest room which apparently used to be the maid's quarters, but it is so cozy and it has a wonderful view of the gardens. The B&B property backs up to the river, so we ordered takeout for dinner and took it down to the water and ate while we watched the sun set and talked about theology. It was a great evening!

Today is Novena Day. The cycle that I conceived for the second time I prayed a Novena for the last nine days of my cycle before taking a pregnancy test. I had never done it before, but I was willing to try anything. I thought of making it a tradition, to keep myself centered and focus on what was really important while I waited for God to bless me. When the test turned out positive, I was sure that I had finally found the answer.

Then I lost the baby, and I realized that I had been trying to make a deal with God.

I have decided to pray a Novena again this cycle, but this time I will do it the right way. I am petitioning St. Gianna, not for conception but for perfect acceptance of life or death.

So here it goes!

Off Adventuring

In a few hours N and I will be leaving for our much-needed vacation.

As we had only a couple hundred dollars in our "Travel" fund our options were kind of limited--so we decided to go to my Grandma's in northern Michigan. Other than a few holidays N hasn't spent a lot of time there, but since I spent the better part of my childhood hiking in the woods, swimming in the lakes, and lurking around the local ice cream shop, I thought it was high time that N spent some time there himself.

After most of the week at Grandma's were are splurging on a couple of nights in a bed and breakfast. It looks pretty amazing; I can't wait!

I don't want to ruin my vacation by obsessing about what my temperature is doing, nor do I do I want to have to wake up at 6:30 every morning to take my temp. Since I was finally able to confirm ovulation on CD19, I don't have to worry about that any more. So sorry thermometer, but you are staying at home:)

For those of you who are interested, the flax seed oil supplements seem to have been a success when it comes to my pre-ovulation temperatures. Of my 19 pre-ovulation days, eleven of my temps were above 97.0. As opposed to, well, NONE (ok, maybe one or two) in my previous cycles. I hope that my temps continue to improve! It's been very nice not to have to wear sweaters in the summer!

I should get it tattooed on my forehead

I went to the the OBGYN today for my yearly checkup and pap. There are a lot of reasons I don't like my OBGYN, but the big reason is that the doctor and nurses are constantly offending me.

For example...

Nurse: I see you are taking a prenatal. Does that mean that you aren't on BIRTH CONTROL?
Me: No, I am trying to get pregnant and what's more, I'm Catholic.
Nurse: So, would you like a prescription for some nice BIRTH CONTROL?
Me: No!

and later...

Me: Is there any way I can shorten my cycles?
Doctor: Well, you could go on BIRTH CONTROL.
Me: We've talked about this. The reason I want shorter cycles is so I can have more chances of conceiving. Plus I'm Catholic.
Doctor: Are you sure you wouldn't like some nice, healthful, BIRTH CONTROL?

Ok, I get it. You all think I shouldn't procreate. That's great.

The nurse also offered me an STD test as soon as I sat down on the exam table. Because clearly my husband is cheating on me or I am cheating on him.

The doctor, who saw me for my follow up appointments after the miscarriages, chatted with me a little bit about how the TTC thing was going. I said not so well. She said I should be enjoying my nice child-free existence and just relax. It really bugs me when people tell me I should feel lucky that I don't have children because children are a huge pain, apparently. Oh, and the doctor also told me I am so young and I have plenty of time. I don't feel so young. I am one of the oldest in my group of friends and the only one without children. I am older now than my mother was when she had me, and I was her second. I am older than my sister was when she gave birth to Niecey. I am older than the average new mother in the US. So no, I am not SO young.

Come on, people. Just take a gander at my cervix and let me out of here.

I've wanted to switch doctors for a while, but I just haven't had the energy yet. Plus there don't seem to be any nice Catholic OBGYNs in my area. Does this mean I will have to put up with this crap for my entire life?

Anyway, I'm glad that's over and I don't have to see her for another year!

Iris

I'm sorry to tell a sad story, but I haven't been able to tell the full story to anyone and I really need to get all of this off my chest. After I have told all of my sad stories I hope to tell only happy ones.

Soon after N's change of heart regarding children, he left on a business trip for three weeks. After our long-distance courting ended with our marriage, we hadn't spent very much time apart. A few weekend trips here and there but...three weeks? It was not fun at all.

I was having a bad time at work at the time, and it was hard not having N there to support me. One day, a coworker with whom I had a long-standing feud verbally abused me in front of all the other staff, which resulted in me crying in the break room for most of the day.

When I got home I was still so mad I could hardly see straight, but then I inexplicably fell asleep for two hours. When I woke up I was still in a bad mood, and well, I really needed a drink.

In the back of my head I had a niggling thought that I was late. I checked my chart. It wasn't exactly clear if I was late or not. It was CD38, but I had had about a week of midcycle bleeding a few weeks before which had thrown everything off. I thought I maybe had ovulated on CD24, but the temperature shift wasn't really convincing.

I really wasn't thinking that I was pregnant, but I decided to take a test anyway so I could enjoy my drink with a clear conscience.

Then I forgot all about the drink, because there were two lines. I laughed and cried at the same time. I couldn't sit still. I couldn't wait to tell N. I ended up showing him with positive test on Sky.pe, and he was understandably stunned. Who gets pregnant on the first try anyway? And we weren't even really trying trying.

Everything went really smoothly. I felt great. N came home a week later, and we had a lot to celebrate.

It was a truly wonderful time, and we couldn't keep it a secret. We told both our families when I was around six weeks along. Everything was beautiful. I ended every day by putting my hand on my belly and saying, "Good night baby. I love you." Even though I had never seen it or held it, I truly loved my child. The depth of love I felt amazed me.

Less than a week after we had shared the news, I started spotting when I was at work. I hadn't had my first prenatal appointment yet, but I made several frantic calls to the midwives I had already decided on seeing, when the time came. They told me not to panic and I didn't--spotting is very common during early pregnancy, after all.

Then, at about three in the afternoon, I started cramping. Horrible, excruciating cramps unlike anything I had ever felt. The bleeding was picking up, and then I started to panic. By the time I managed to drive myself home, the cramps were so bad I couldn't stand. I knew then that it was over. Poor N was terrified. He drove me to the emergency room and didn't let go of my hand the entire time I was there. I ended up delivering the "products of conception" while I was on an examination table. After many blood tests, an empty ultrasound, and a shot of Rhogam, we were sent home.

My immense joy was turned to grief. And I was terrified because I had just experienced both the worst emotional distress and the most blinding physical pain that I had ever felt; I literally couldn't imagine anything worse. I thought, what if this happens again? How would I survive a sorrow that would be still greater than the most intense sorrow that I had ever felt?

After the miscarriage I found this prayer on EWTN which speaks of a miscarried child acting as a personal intercessor for his or her parents. I imagined my first child in heaven, praying for me before God, and that gave me a lot of comfort. It is because of this that I call her Iris. In Greek mythology, Iris is a divine messenger and serves as a link between the gods and humanity.Maybe a little pagan, but I feel it is very fitting.

How We Think About Children

I adore my parents-in-law. They are the sweetest, loveliest people I know. They got married as teenagers and are currently off celebrating their fortieth anniversary with an Alaskan cruise. They are so cute to see together. I really admire their marriage, except for one thing. They aren't open to children.

They waited until their late twenties to have children, during what they considered to be the perfect time. They had one child, who turned out to have ADD, and because he was such a handful they decided not to have any more children. God stepped in, though. If he hadn't, I wouldn't have my N. But after N was born my MIL got her tubes tied, and that was the end of that.

I had a very different upbringing in a very child-centered home. I have four biological siblings, two sisters and a brother. When I was eleven we became a foster family, and eventually we adopted one of our first foster children (that's Baby Sister). I was taught that birth control was wrong (something I rejected in my late teens and early twenties and then re-accepted).

When N and I got married, N shared his parents' views regarding children. And why wouldn't he? It was the only perspective he had been exposed to. When we were going through Pre-Cana we talked about how N wanted to have children, but in an abstract, in-the-distant-future kind of way. So I knew all this going in, but I was willing to wait if I had to. It's not that I desperately wanted children right away after we got married, but as I always told N, I would have been happy with a baby whenever God gave us one. And, deep down, I always thought N would change his mind.

In the years after we were married, I could see God working to change N's mind. First with his conversion. Then with the blessings of our friend's children. We are close with five couples who go to our church. In 2009, they all either became pregnant or gave birth. Before last year, N had never held a baby or had a friend who was a parent. And suddenly he could see how natural, wonderful, and beautiful parenthood is.

Then one day last June he literally called me while he was on his way home from work and told me he wanted to have kids sooner rather than later.

One thing I really struggle to understand is why God would change N's mind if He meant for it to end like this. I think He is still working on us; making our hearts more open and loving for the children He will give us one day, one way or another.

Day and Night

I had been feeling really positive about this cycle. Ever since the second miscarriage in February I have had really wimpy, erratic periods and half the time I wasn't able to confirm ovulation, but this month I had a nice, healthy period and then was showing all the signs of ovulating soon.

The new diet and exercise thing has made me feel a lot healthier. I'm sleeping better, I have a good appetite, and I have more energy. My temps have remained elevated, possibly due to the flax seed oil supplements. I actually think I look healthier too--the dark circles under my eyes are less pronounced (maybe thanks to the B Super Complex I've been taking?) and maybe I'm imagining it, but when I look in the mirror I swear I see a healthy glow.

I was optimistic. I thought, maybe this will be the cycle that everything does what it's supposed to.

Then yesterday, CD14, I started spotting and all of my impending ovulation symptoms disappeared, so any aspirations I had for a normal cycle are out the window. I have had spotting between periods several times since I stopped taking birth control in 2007--I used to blame any abnormal bleeding on the BCP, but sometimes I wonder if it isn't something else. It's been a really long time since I had any of those evil pills in my system.

So everything's going great and I'm the healthiest I've ever been, and my body still isn't functioning the way it's supposed to. A "normal" person would be starting the two-week wait right about now. Not me. Who knows when the waiting is going to be over.

Sigh.