We ran a mile again this morning and we both did better than yesterday! Woo! Next week we will start going farther, and I think I may run an extra half a block tomorrow.
I also did more push ups and sit ups today. I downloaded this neato little app on my phone, and it's like a training guide to eventually be able to do 100 consecutive sit ups (you can adjust your goal, how many you want to do, I chose 100 for sit ups because it's closest to my goal of 82), and I got the same one for push ups, which I set for 50. It tells you how many to do, then counts down a rest period, then makes a whistle noise when you have to do the next rep. It's super awesome! I did them both today; I had the thought that I maybe should do them on alternating days, but I figured to just go for it. So then I get to rest completely every other day.
I think it will work out.
Showing posts with label Health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Health. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
High and Low
I'm pretty sure I hit a personal low this morning. I wish I could quit the Army. I really do. It is the most negative thing in my life right now and I really wish I didn't have 2 years left of it. We have a PT test this weekend and I have been doing half assed work outs to "get ready" for it. Last week I realized I had less than 2 weeks left to "get ready" for it, and "decided" to step up my game. (insert laugh track). In truth, I have done nothing of the sort. I ran on the treadmill this morning (temps are still below freezing here) and I QUIT. I literally quit at about a mile and a half. I stopped the machine, stepped off, and that was it. I don't know how to fix my brain, I don't know how to make myself stop doubting myself. I can't even say exactly WHY I did what I did. All I know is that this is BAD, and it needs to STOP.
I've also hit a personal high this morning, but also not good: I have gained a pound a day over the last 3 days, putting my weight at an all time high (excluding pregnancy). I won't mention what it actually is, I'm a lady after all. I admit that I have been kinda pigging out, but I've pigged out before and have never seen this type of weighty reaction to it. I am dismayed and disappointed. I am hoping that with the [hopeful] onset of warmer weather soon that I'll be able to push myself easier to be more active (running outside is so much more satisfying than on a treadmill in the basement) more regularly (I really do feel good, physically, after I work out, it's just the starting thing I have so much trouble with, and now apparently the middle part of it).
I will also, in the next week or so, find a doctor and get myself a check up, because my PCOS may have some responsibility in the moodiness and weight gain. Hormones can be a real bitch, especially if they are not 'balanced.' In which case I may be able to come up with a more effective way in dealing with my issues than just wanting to sleep and without turning to semi-anorexic behavior. I'm no good at "dieting." In lieu of a diet, I generally just eat less. A LOT less. No motivation, no will power. Things need to change.
I've also hit a personal high this morning, but also not good: I have gained a pound a day over the last 3 days, putting my weight at an all time high (excluding pregnancy). I won't mention what it actually is, I'm a lady after all. I admit that I have been kinda pigging out, but I've pigged out before and have never seen this type of weighty reaction to it. I am dismayed and disappointed. I am hoping that with the [hopeful] onset of warmer weather soon that I'll be able to push myself easier to be more active (running outside is so much more satisfying than on a treadmill in the basement) more regularly (I really do feel good, physically, after I work out, it's just the starting thing I have so much trouble with, and now apparently the middle part of it).
I will also, in the next week or so, find a doctor and get myself a check up, because my PCOS may have some responsibility in the moodiness and weight gain. Hormones can be a real bitch, especially if they are not 'balanced.' In which case I may be able to come up with a more effective way in dealing with my issues than just wanting to sleep and without turning to semi-anorexic behavior. I'm no good at "dieting." In lieu of a diet, I generally just eat less. A LOT less. No motivation, no will power. Things need to change.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month
This is my first disclaimer: if you get queasy about girl-part details, don't read this post. Just wait for my next blog post.
Also, before I get to what I want to write about, let me first state that THIS POST IS NOT MEANT, IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM, TO BELITTLE, DEMEAN, OR IN ANY OTHER WAY DIMINISH THE EMOTIONAL AND/OR PHYSICAL HARDSHIPS OF LOSING A CHILD WHETHER THROUGH MISCARRIAGE, STILL BIRTH, OR OTHER MEANS AFTER BIRTH.
That was my second disclaimer. Because it's true, and some people may get sensitive about my seemingly heartlessness. Because what I'm thinking about this month, since October is apparently Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, is why I don't feel sad or think about my own loss. Granted it was six long years ago, but even a year after, even two months after, I did not feel any deep sadness or grief or emptiness.
And let me say that when it happened I DID feel terrible. It was excruciatingly emotionally debilitating. For about a week. Seriously. I cried my eyes out while waiting to go in for the D&C, I broke into tears when I talked about it. I cried at the damn mall when I passed the maternity stores because I wasn't pregnant anymore. It hurt to watch other prego-bellies walk in and out of the store buying fat clothes that they will only wear for the next 4 or 5 months because I wasn't one of them anymore.
But then I was fine. Maybe it was because of my lack of involvement. Here's how it went down: I conceived in April 2004. Presumably due in January '05. No insurance. No ob/gyn. Set up an appointment at the clinic at the hospital, but they couldn't get me in until the end of July. I guess I thought this was ok. That would have put me at around 4 months pregnant. Mid-July I started having slight cramping pains in my uterus-area, and started to spot lightly.
Up until that point I believed my pregnancy was going fine, that I was having a normal non-complicated pregnancy. Sure I felt sick quite often, but I put it off as just morning sickness. And this is what I mean when I said "lack of involvement." I was not involved in the pregnancy. I was stressed out (relationship issues, which is something I will probably never go into), and did not have a doctor to communicate with about what was going on. No blood tests, no ultrasounds, not even a blood pressure test to tell me if I really WAS having a healthy pregnancy. It was four months of mindlessness.
At any rate, the cramping (and by cramping I mean a slight pinching feeling every 5-10 minutes) continued for a few days, during which time I went on vacation with my family. I told my mom about the spotting, and I think she figured it out then, and I think I had it figured out as well, but I wanted to believe it wasn't anything serious.
Two more days went by and I wake up and both symptoms had gotten a little bit worse. Worse meaning the cramps, though not any more painful, had gotten to about 2 minutes apart. My mom insisted we go to the hospital. Two minutes later and there would have been a very bad mess in the car. We got there, I got admitted, I was asked to give a urine sample (and at this point I was still only lightly spotting), and when I went to go pee in the cup... Let's just say all hell broke loose. Literally. I felt like I was dying; the gushing just wouldn't let up for a minute (and that includes the tears from my eyes and boogers from my nose). My mind was completely in denial. All I was focusing on was giving that damn urine sample. I had the cup in one hand, and ball after ball after ball of toilet paper in the other, trying desperately to clean myself enough to put some clear pee in the cup. It wasn't happening.
I guess finally the nurse came in and gave me a huge gigantic pad to wear (which didn't help really, I think they changed the absorbant pad under me no less than five times), and they decided that the only thing to do was to put me under for a D&C because it was obviously too much for me to pass on my own. And in case you don't know what a D&C is, it stands for Dilation and Curettage. They surgically scrape out all the stuff inside (like scooping seeds out of a pumpkin) so your body doesn't have to do it on its own. It's basically what they do when you have an abortion.
I remember talking to the anesthesiologist, then I remember waking up and feeling really hungry. Painless. I ate a really awesome hospital meal of chicken, gravy, and mashed potatoes, and then was free to go home. They couldn't tell me the cause of miscarriage. By all counts I should have been 4 months along already, that would have meant a definite fetus. There was none. All the paper I clogged the toilet with made it impossible for them to get a sample of whatever was left. What they scraped out was nothing definitive either; just blobs and lumps and clots. Their best guess was that it was a missed miscarriage, where the fetus dies very early on, never develops because of chromosomal issues, and my body just hadn't felt the need to expel it until then.
That was it. I think I moped around most of the rest of the day, and the next day we went out for my dad's birthday. The next day I drove myself home and cried all over again (and got drunk. Really drunk). I may have had no more than 2 more complete break-downs about the ordeal.
The other reason I think I recovered so quickly is because I got pregnant only two months later and went on to have my daughter, Caelyn, the following June. And that is not to say I felt like she replaced the one I lost. I just never felt like I lost a child. Under the circumstances (which I have so graciously detailed for you), it never felt like a child. To me, there was no face, no footprints, no heartbeat, nothing. It was just globs of bloody tissue that had to get scraped out of me. I never felt a bond with that unborn being, I never got to think of that unborn being as a child growing inside of me. My mental thought process was "yay pregnant. wtf miscarriage." Period. End of story. And that may sound extremely callous to some. Maybe to most.
Let me also add that I was not in a happy relationship. I was not in control of my life. There was no focus, no long-term goals, no aspirations. I dropped out of college. My life was a real mess. I had no room to stress about bloody clots that I never thought were a baby to begin with.
All my sympathy goes out to all the women who have dealt with loss in a real way. Not my way. I will never understand those feelings, those emotions of grief and mourning because I have never truly felt them myself about experiencing my own loss. All my sympathy also goes out to all the women who have lost young children, because I watched, and lived through, my mom losing her daughter, my sister, Katie to cancer at only 6 years old. Now THAT still affects me to this day. She was in my life for almost 7 years; I watched and experienced her growing from a baby into an amazing little girl. And while I will always weep her passing, I will also remember the good times we shared together, and the brightness she brought to the world for such a short time.
And perhaps that is a third reason I don't mourn my own loss. It was a mere blip in my life compared to the pain and agony of watching my sister deteriorate from the moment of her diagnosis to the moment of her death almost exactly a year later. Bleeding for twenty minutes and then having surgery to erase what I had never even seen is nothing compared to watching my young sister, (and mind, I was 15 at the time) who was in my life for almost half of it at that point, take her last breath. My loss seems insignificant compared to that.
So, yes, I have all the sympathy in the world for those who mourn, for those who grieve, for those who have lost once or multiple times. Because I can do that, even though I don't mourn my own. Recognize, Respect, and have Sympathy for those who have ever lost this October, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.
Also, before I get to what I want to write about, let me first state that THIS POST IS NOT MEANT, IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM, TO BELITTLE, DEMEAN, OR IN ANY OTHER WAY DIMINISH THE EMOTIONAL AND/OR PHYSICAL HARDSHIPS OF LOSING A CHILD WHETHER THROUGH MISCARRIAGE, STILL BIRTH, OR OTHER MEANS AFTER BIRTH.
That was my second disclaimer. Because it's true, and some people may get sensitive about my seemingly heartlessness. Because what I'm thinking about this month, since October is apparently Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, is why I don't feel sad or think about my own loss. Granted it was six long years ago, but even a year after, even two months after, I did not feel any deep sadness or grief or emptiness.
And let me say that when it happened I DID feel terrible. It was excruciatingly emotionally debilitating. For about a week. Seriously. I cried my eyes out while waiting to go in for the D&C, I broke into tears when I talked about it. I cried at the damn mall when I passed the maternity stores because I wasn't pregnant anymore. It hurt to watch other prego-bellies walk in and out of the store buying fat clothes that they will only wear for the next 4 or 5 months because I wasn't one of them anymore.
But then I was fine. Maybe it was because of my lack of involvement. Here's how it went down: I conceived in April 2004. Presumably due in January '05. No insurance. No ob/gyn. Set up an appointment at the clinic at the hospital, but they couldn't get me in until the end of July. I guess I thought this was ok. That would have put me at around 4 months pregnant. Mid-July I started having slight cramping pains in my uterus-area, and started to spot lightly.
Up until that point I believed my pregnancy was going fine, that I was having a normal non-complicated pregnancy. Sure I felt sick quite often, but I put it off as just morning sickness. And this is what I mean when I said "lack of involvement." I was not involved in the pregnancy. I was stressed out (relationship issues, which is something I will probably never go into), and did not have a doctor to communicate with about what was going on. No blood tests, no ultrasounds, not even a blood pressure test to tell me if I really WAS having a healthy pregnancy. It was four months of mindlessness.
At any rate, the cramping (and by cramping I mean a slight pinching feeling every 5-10 minutes) continued for a few days, during which time I went on vacation with my family. I told my mom about the spotting, and I think she figured it out then, and I think I had it figured out as well, but I wanted to believe it wasn't anything serious.
Two more days went by and I wake up and both symptoms had gotten a little bit worse. Worse meaning the cramps, though not any more painful, had gotten to about 2 minutes apart. My mom insisted we go to the hospital. Two minutes later and there would have been a very bad mess in the car. We got there, I got admitted, I was asked to give a urine sample (and at this point I was still only lightly spotting), and when I went to go pee in the cup... Let's just say all hell broke loose. Literally. I felt like I was dying; the gushing just wouldn't let up for a minute (and that includes the tears from my eyes and boogers from my nose). My mind was completely in denial. All I was focusing on was giving that damn urine sample. I had the cup in one hand, and ball after ball after ball of toilet paper in the other, trying desperately to clean myself enough to put some clear pee in the cup. It wasn't happening.
I guess finally the nurse came in and gave me a huge gigantic pad to wear (which didn't help really, I think they changed the absorbant pad under me no less than five times), and they decided that the only thing to do was to put me under for a D&C because it was obviously too much for me to pass on my own. And in case you don't know what a D&C is, it stands for Dilation and Curettage. They surgically scrape out all the stuff inside (like scooping seeds out of a pumpkin) so your body doesn't have to do it on its own. It's basically what they do when you have an abortion.
I remember talking to the anesthesiologist, then I remember waking up and feeling really hungry. Painless. I ate a really awesome hospital meal of chicken, gravy, and mashed potatoes, and then was free to go home. They couldn't tell me the cause of miscarriage. By all counts I should have been 4 months along already, that would have meant a definite fetus. There was none. All the paper I clogged the toilet with made it impossible for them to get a sample of whatever was left. What they scraped out was nothing definitive either; just blobs and lumps and clots. Their best guess was that it was a missed miscarriage, where the fetus dies very early on, never develops because of chromosomal issues, and my body just hadn't felt the need to expel it until then.
That was it. I think I moped around most of the rest of the day, and the next day we went out for my dad's birthday. The next day I drove myself home and cried all over again (and got drunk. Really drunk). I may have had no more than 2 more complete break-downs about the ordeal.
The other reason I think I recovered so quickly is because I got pregnant only two months later and went on to have my daughter, Caelyn, the following June. And that is not to say I felt like she replaced the one I lost. I just never felt like I lost a child. Under the circumstances (which I have so graciously detailed for you), it never felt like a child. To me, there was no face, no footprints, no heartbeat, nothing. It was just globs of bloody tissue that had to get scraped out of me. I never felt a bond with that unborn being, I never got to think of that unborn being as a child growing inside of me. My mental thought process was "yay pregnant. wtf miscarriage." Period. End of story. And that may sound extremely callous to some. Maybe to most.
Let me also add that I was not in a happy relationship. I was not in control of my life. There was no focus, no long-term goals, no aspirations. I dropped out of college. My life was a real mess. I had no room to stress about bloody clots that I never thought were a baby to begin with.
All my sympathy goes out to all the women who have dealt with loss in a real way. Not my way. I will never understand those feelings, those emotions of grief and mourning because I have never truly felt them myself about experiencing my own loss. All my sympathy also goes out to all the women who have lost young children, because I watched, and lived through, my mom losing her daughter, my sister, Katie to cancer at only 6 years old. Now THAT still affects me to this day. She was in my life for almost 7 years; I watched and experienced her growing from a baby into an amazing little girl. And while I will always weep her passing, I will also remember the good times we shared together, and the brightness she brought to the world for such a short time.
And perhaps that is a third reason I don't mourn my own loss. It was a mere blip in my life compared to the pain and agony of watching my sister deteriorate from the moment of her diagnosis to the moment of her death almost exactly a year later. Bleeding for twenty minutes and then having surgery to erase what I had never even seen is nothing compared to watching my young sister, (and mind, I was 15 at the time) who was in my life for almost half of it at that point, take her last breath. My loss seems insignificant compared to that.
So, yes, I have all the sympathy in the world for those who mourn, for those who grieve, for those who have lost once or multiple times. Because I can do that, even though I don't mourn my own. Recognize, Respect, and have Sympathy for those who have ever lost this October, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Lethargy
This is the main reason I haven't blogged in a while. I've been feeling really lethargic. Not just physically, but more mentally than anything. I'm having a hard time remembering things, staying focused, and just plain thinking straight. I feel like my brain is burnt out. I've been thinking about so many things that I think I finally just stopped thinking altogether.
I have to do well this semester to graduate. I've been preoccupied with Caelyn going to school as well. It's double homework for me with all the notices and fund raisers she's brought home so far just in the first 2 weeks. I am infinitely glad that she gets free school lunches because if she didn't I would probably forget to feed her. Work has been slow. I am so distracted by anything and everything in the house right now. Too many people and too much mess and I'm the only one home most days to clean up. Which I shouldn't really be spending all my time on since I'm supposed to be working.
Then there's the moving thing. Trying to pack boxes here and boxes there, deciding what I don't really need for the next 3 months and can send up to the house. And all that takes time, too. I guess all the problems stem from there being a deficient amount of time to work with. I need the days to be at least 3 hours longer each. Then maybe I'll be able to feel productive.
I'm feeling pretty unproductive right now writing this blog because there are at least three other things I should be doing instead. Getting Caelyn ready for bed (I've told her to brush her teeth 5 times already, but of course I need to be right on top of her to do anything these days. At least she's in her pajamas), the dishes need to get washed, even though I think my mom is going to do them, she's on the phone so now the dishes are sitting getting all crusty. The carpet hasn't been vacuumed in at least 4 days, and I meant to do it today but never got around to it. Mostly because Caelyn had her friend over for most of the day, and the other reason was because I was futzing around online. And then I was cooking dinner.
I've gotten to the point where I need to put alerts in my phone to remind myself to do really stupid easy things so I won't forget. And I'm not talking about like when something is on your mind and you're still thinking about it and just procrastinate. I'm talking about like, at around 8:30am I'll tell myself "Ok I have to call her pediatrician after 10 because that's when they open," and I won't remember that I had to make the phone call until we're going to bed and the office is closed and everything. And then I say "I have to remember tomorrow to call..." It's a vicious cycle of reminding and honestly forgetting. My mom will say "can you open the window to get a breeze in here?" and I will literally say, "Ok, sure thing," and then NOT do it because I forgot that quickly. I think I have to start setting an alarm to eat, because I've lost 4 pounds (not that I'm complaining about the weight loss), but I'm pretty sure it's because I've become accidentally anorexic. I just forget to eat.
I'm really not sure how to fix this problem. Any suggestions will be greatly appreciated. As for now, I am going to try my best to start drinking a LOT more water and to start running every day. I've fallen into a really bad slump and I need to get out of it. I think hydrating (I really don't drink anything during the day: cup of coffee in the morning, maybe a glass of juice at dinner. Usually nothing in between. I know, it's so bad) and getting more active may help with my brain functions. If I'm still as addled in two weeks as I am right now, well, then I have no idea what I'll do. But I haven't gotten there yet, so for now I have to go and get ready for bed and make sure my sleep-deprived daughter is sleeping as well.
I have to do well this semester to graduate. I've been preoccupied with Caelyn going to school as well. It's double homework for me with all the notices and fund raisers she's brought home so far just in the first 2 weeks. I am infinitely glad that she gets free school lunches because if she didn't I would probably forget to feed her. Work has been slow. I am so distracted by anything and everything in the house right now. Too many people and too much mess and I'm the only one home most days to clean up. Which I shouldn't really be spending all my time on since I'm supposed to be working.
Then there's the moving thing. Trying to pack boxes here and boxes there, deciding what I don't really need for the next 3 months and can send up to the house. And all that takes time, too. I guess all the problems stem from there being a deficient amount of time to work with. I need the days to be at least 3 hours longer each. Then maybe I'll be able to feel productive.
I'm feeling pretty unproductive right now writing this blog because there are at least three other things I should be doing instead. Getting Caelyn ready for bed (I've told her to brush her teeth 5 times already, but of course I need to be right on top of her to do anything these days. At least she's in her pajamas), the dishes need to get washed, even though I think my mom is going to do them, she's on the phone so now the dishes are sitting getting all crusty. The carpet hasn't been vacuumed in at least 4 days, and I meant to do it today but never got around to it. Mostly because Caelyn had her friend over for most of the day, and the other reason was because I was futzing around online. And then I was cooking dinner.
I've gotten to the point where I need to put alerts in my phone to remind myself to do really stupid easy things so I won't forget. And I'm not talking about like when something is on your mind and you're still thinking about it and just procrastinate. I'm talking about like, at around 8:30am I'll tell myself "Ok I have to call her pediatrician after 10 because that's when they open," and I won't remember that I had to make the phone call until we're going to bed and the office is closed and everything. And then I say "I have to remember tomorrow to call..." It's a vicious cycle of reminding and honestly forgetting. My mom will say "can you open the window to get a breeze in here?" and I will literally say, "Ok, sure thing," and then NOT do it because I forgot that quickly. I think I have to start setting an alarm to eat, because I've lost 4 pounds (not that I'm complaining about the weight loss), but I'm pretty sure it's because I've become accidentally anorexic. I just forget to eat.
I'm really not sure how to fix this problem. Any suggestions will be greatly appreciated. As for now, I am going to try my best to start drinking a LOT more water and to start running every day. I've fallen into a really bad slump and I need to get out of it. I think hydrating (I really don't drink anything during the day: cup of coffee in the morning, maybe a glass of juice at dinner. Usually nothing in between. I know, it's so bad) and getting more active may help with my brain functions. If I'm still as addled in two weeks as I am right now, well, then I have no idea what I'll do. But I haven't gotten there yet, so for now I have to go and get ready for bed and make sure my sleep-deprived daughter is sleeping as well.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Not Fitting In
And I'm not even talking about socially, which has always been an issue with me. I get along with most everyone, but never quite feel like I'm a part of that "inner circle." I kind of straddle the line of that circle more often than not. But that's not what I want to talk about. What I'm talking about is support groups.
The point of finding a support group is to be able to talk about similar issues you all share. It's really sucky when you feel like you don't even fit in with people that have the same disease as you. And by disease, I mean PCOS. I know I've mentioned it a few times here already so I won't go into what that entails. I've joined a few online support forums for women with PCOS and still find that I don't fit in with them. We all have the same underlying medical issues, and most are going through similar life-setbacks. But not me! Oh no, of course not me.
It seems that the vast majority of women who have PCOS are either dealing with obesity linked to insulin resistance, or are dealing with infertility, also rooted with the insulin resistance. I am, at this moment, unsure whether I am seriously IR or not. I am definitely not obese, and I do not have to deal with infertility as I am not TTC (as this demographic refers to "trying to conceive").
I also do not feel depressed or emotionally lost because of my diagnosis. I realize that, yes, I may have trouble in the future if I ever face the chance to have another child, but even then, I can't imagine ever being completely overwhelmed by the trials that are potentially awaiting me. Maybe it's because I already have a kid? Maybe because getting married and wanting another kid isn't something I actually see in my near future? This situation is unreal to me, so I cannot reasonably relate to all these other women's feelings about it.
Most newbie posts have been pretty negative, like it's suddenly the end of the world. I can't feel that way. To me, it's just a health issue that can be effectively managed and controlled. There's no sense in worrying about possible fertility issues when I'm not dealing with them today. Today is what counts. If I spent all my time worrying about the future, I wouldn't even notice my todays.
The point of finding a support group is to be able to talk about similar issues you all share. It's really sucky when you feel like you don't even fit in with people that have the same disease as you. And by disease, I mean PCOS. I know I've mentioned it a few times here already so I won't go into what that entails. I've joined a few online support forums for women with PCOS and still find that I don't fit in with them. We all have the same underlying medical issues, and most are going through similar life-setbacks. But not me! Oh no, of course not me.
It seems that the vast majority of women who have PCOS are either dealing with obesity linked to insulin resistance, or are dealing with infertility, also rooted with the insulin resistance. I am, at this moment, unsure whether I am seriously IR or not. I am definitely not obese, and I do not have to deal with infertility as I am not TTC (as this demographic refers to "trying to conceive").
I also do not feel depressed or emotionally lost because of my diagnosis. I realize that, yes, I may have trouble in the future if I ever face the chance to have another child, but even then, I can't imagine ever being completely overwhelmed by the trials that are potentially awaiting me. Maybe it's because I already have a kid? Maybe because getting married and wanting another kid isn't something I actually see in my near future? This situation is unreal to me, so I cannot reasonably relate to all these other women's feelings about it.
Most newbie posts have been pretty negative, like it's suddenly the end of the world. I can't feel that way. To me, it's just a health issue that can be effectively managed and controlled. There's no sense in worrying about possible fertility issues when I'm not dealing with them today. Today is what counts. If I spent all my time worrying about the future, I wouldn't even notice my todays.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
A Few Thoughts
I'm going to start with this one: "Shoot for the moon, because even if you miss you'll land among the stars." This does not make astronomical sense. Number one, the stars are WAY farther away than the moon. If you shoot for the moon and miss, most likely you'll burn up in Earth's atmosphere. If you're lucky. More than likely you'll wind up floating in the vacuum of space where no one can hear you scream. So, a better phrase would be to shoot for the stars, and if you miss you may land on the moon. In either case, though, I think I'd rather hold onto my position here on Earth. Where I can breath.
My second thought is: It's really bright outside today. Bright and a little bit warm. I've got my window fan and my ceiling fan going so it's at least comfortable here inside. Yes, I'm in Malone, NY again until the 15th when I will be making the depressing drive back to Jersey. It's not really that I hate Jersey, it's more that I like the mountains better. I do have to work while I am here, though, brought my computer and everything, but it's just nice to be here.
My third thought is: PCOS. I was recently diagnosed with this disorder, and for those who don't know the acronym, it stands for polycystic ovarian syndrome. It sounds much worse than it is, but I suppose for a lot of women it IS really bad. There are many manifestations of this disorder, and so far I'm thinking that mine is very mild since it hasn't disrupted anything major yet. Most women with pcos hate it because they are trying to get pregnant, and pcos basically is a "no baby for you" sentence. (pcos=no released egg=no ovulation=no fertilization=no baby. get it?) Fortunately, I am NOT trying to get pregnant. And without getting into too many details, pcos also can disrupt...womanly cycles. Mine have not been irregular to the point of saying "oh my gosh what the heck is going on?" so my body is still on some level of normal in that regard.
My fourth and final thought of the day: I have recently signed up for the next Get Sparked! round happening at the end of this month. I am also looking forward to the first round of the NYC Midnight Flash Fiction challenge, happening next weekend. What I'm NOT looking forward to is the fact that that is the weekend we will be packing and heading back to Jersey. At least it's only 1,000 words, right? I can knock that out in no time. But still, it will be one more thing to fit into the schedule. I would love to get past the first round in this one, so I'm really going to try hard. And maybe, just maybe, I'll be up to participating in NaNoWriMo again this year. I didn't do it last year, but the year before I actually broke 50,000 words which I was so proud of even though I didn't get close to the end of my story. I'd like to try and actually finish something this year.
My second thought is: It's really bright outside today. Bright and a little bit warm. I've got my window fan and my ceiling fan going so it's at least comfortable here inside. Yes, I'm in Malone, NY again until the 15th when I will be making the depressing drive back to Jersey. It's not really that I hate Jersey, it's more that I like the mountains better. I do have to work while I am here, though, brought my computer and everything, but it's just nice to be here.
My third thought is: PCOS. I was recently diagnosed with this disorder, and for those who don't know the acronym, it stands for polycystic ovarian syndrome. It sounds much worse than it is, but I suppose for a lot of women it IS really bad. There are many manifestations of this disorder, and so far I'm thinking that mine is very mild since it hasn't disrupted anything major yet. Most women with pcos hate it because they are trying to get pregnant, and pcos basically is a "no baby for you" sentence. (pcos=no released egg=no ovulation=no fertilization=no baby. get it?) Fortunately, I am NOT trying to get pregnant. And without getting into too many details, pcos also can disrupt...womanly cycles. Mine have not been irregular to the point of saying "oh my gosh what the heck is going on?" so my body is still on some level of normal in that regard.
My fourth and final thought of the day: I have recently signed up for the next Get Sparked! round happening at the end of this month. I am also looking forward to the first round of the NYC Midnight Flash Fiction challenge, happening next weekend. What I'm NOT looking forward to is the fact that that is the weekend we will be packing and heading back to Jersey. At least it's only 1,000 words, right? I can knock that out in no time. But still, it will be one more thing to fit into the schedule. I would love to get past the first round in this one, so I'm really going to try hard. And maybe, just maybe, I'll be up to participating in NaNoWriMo again this year. I didn't do it last year, but the year before I actually broke 50,000 words which I was so proud of even though I didn't get close to the end of my story. I'd like to try and actually finish something this year.
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