Moving Day

Manana Banana now has a new home here. I won't be posting on this blog anymore, so come check out my new place when ya have a chance.

On the Move

I'm definitely moving to a new place, and things are now in the works. It's going to take a little time, though, because I'm baffled. I'm using WordPress for my new blog, and it's definitely another step (or two or three) up from Blogger. Now I can fool around with a Blogger template as well as the next guy, but I feel like a kindergartner over at my new place. Thankfully my husband's helping me out or I think I would just give up.

Dixie's doing well. She apparently hasn't read the "Patient Home Care Instruction" sheet I got from the vet, though. She keeps breaking the rules. She's still a little radioactive, so we're supposed to limit our contact with her for the next week or so. Only, she keeps doing things like jumping up in my lap and refusing to move. She's such a sweetheart. I know she missed us tons, and it breaks my heart not be able to snuggle her for hours on end. I let her cheat a little bit, though. How can I possibly say no to that sweet kitty?

My body is pissing me off. I'm on CD26 and still no positive OPK. I think my period's on the way, but who really knows. I called my RE's office to speak to my IVF coordinator about the situation, but apparently she's on vacation through the 1st. Crap. So, I had to leave a message with a nurse who is supposedly going to talk to my RE and call me back. So far no call, though. It looks like I may have missed the chance to do the sonohystogram and endo biopsies this month, and I am beyond frustrated. I asked about doing a mock cycle with Estrace and PIO next cycle so I wouldn't have to deal with the stupid hunt for the LH surge thing again, but who knows if they'll go for that. I really don't want to have to waste another month. Have I said how much I hate waiting?

Hopefully I'll have the new blog up and running soon, but who knows. It's really not presentable right now, but I'm so over Blogger.

The Last Straw

Blogger is pissing me off big time. I know it's pissing everyone else off, too. I wrote a long post and then Blogger just ate it. Poof. Just gone. So, I'm pretty sure I'll be setting up shop elsewhere in the coming days. I just can't take this anymore.

Anyway, what I was going to post about was the fact that my kitty's home! She's doing really well. She's in good spirits and has already gained 5 oz. More later if I ever get things figured out with regards to the impending move.

The Truth Behind the Picture

First of all, thank you. Thank you so much for all of your kind comments, and thank you for understanding. I can't even begin to tell you what that means to me. Second of all, no one needs to apologize or feel badly. Seriously, if I had been on the other side of my post I'm sure I would have said the exact same thing as all of you. I know how absurd it sounds to say that a size 0 is too big. The last I checked Banana Republic did not make clothing in negative sizes. The "I hate you for being a size 0" comments did strike a nerve, but not because I thought they had any negative intentions behind them, only because I've got so much baggage in the body image department. So, no hard feelings whatsoever.

On a lighter note, there are a couple of things I failed to mention about that picture. The first is that I was sooooo hungover when that photograph was taken. Don't ask me how my balance was good enough that day to stay on pointe in that position for forever and a year while the photographer clicked away with the camera. I was so sick. My senior year of high school was definitely the peak of my partying days, and that was one of those "my parents are out of town so I'm going to stay out all night and get totally trashed" experiences. The words "drunk" and "high" do not even begin to describe it. Not pretty and not something I recommend. Thankfully, I calmed down a lot once I got to college. Anyway, the fact that I don't have an actual green aura about me in that picture is pretty miraculous.

The second thing is that I'm wearing a fake bun. Oh, yes, such a thing does exist. I'm not sure if you can get something like that premade, but just get some fake hair in a corresponding color to your own. (medium blonde for me- it looks darker in the picture than it really is.) Then braid it, make a bun out of it, and secure. Voila, fake bun. Like a lot of dancers I had long hair, but during my rebellious senior year I decided to chop it all off. I cut off a ton of hair and donated it to Locks of Love. For classes it wasn't a big deal, because I just pulled it back into a teeny tiny pony tail. For things like photos and performances, however, that wasn't going to cut it, hence the fake bun. I just pulled my hair back and bobby pinned that sucker on. It worked really well. Since then I've gone through several rounds of growing out my hair and chopping it all off again. Right now it's long again. Who knows how long that will last.

I'm in a better mood today mostly because I think my kitty will be able to come home tomorrow. Her radiation level was at 700 yesterday and measured between 550 and 600 today. It has to drop to 500 before she can be released, so it's looking like tomorrow may very well be the day. It better be. Six days is long enough. I'm sure I'll feel even better when she's actually home.

Full Disclosure

You wanna know the truth about the size 0 dress? It was a little too big, but you want to know where? The upper body. That's right, if I just had boobs that dress would have fit. It's no fun to never be able to fill out the top of a dress like that. Plus, it was actually a miracle that the rest of the dress fit so well. My waist to ass ratio is definitely heavy on the ass side of the equation.

The thing is that it doesn't matter what size the label on a piece of clothing says, it's all about how you view yourself. Quite honestly, I have a shitty self body image. I mean really shitty. It's not surprising. I wore a leotard and tights more days than I can count. That's what happens when you start studying ballet at the age of 3 and don't stop dancing until you're out of college. Can you imagine spending 6 days a week staring at yourself in a floor to ceiling mirror that covers the length of the room while you're wearing a leotard and tights? Can you imagine doing that while going through adolescence? It's tough. It doesn't matter if you're skinny. A huge part of ballet is watching your body. When you're learning the correct technique it's a major way of knowing if you're doing things correctly or not. Intense scrutiny of your body for years and years has a lasting affect. I took away so many great things from my dancing days. A great body image was not one of them, though.

I hate looking at myself without clothes on. My body grosses me out a lot of times. It doesn't matter that I weigh 103 pounds and can fit into a size 0. Hell, in high school I weighed 95 pounds and was really fit, and I still could find tons of faults with my body.

Wanna see? In the spirit of full disclosure, I will do something that I've never done before, show myself. Here's a picture of my ballet dancing self taken during my senior year of high school. (Just ignore the quality. That picture's been in my husband's wallet for years.)



I am skinny. I know that. I am thankful that at 27, I still have just barely broken the triple digits. I am thankful that my body has not changed dramatically since high school. But you know what? A lot of times I still feel fat. I feel gross and ugly no matter what the scale says. Honestly, it's not something to be envious of. No one should feel this way about themselves.

I'm not expecting anyone to sympathize with me. I expect the "I still hate you for being a size 0" comments. That's fine. Really, it is, because if I wasn't in my head I wouldn't understand either. You see, this has nothing to do with bragging or anything like that. It has to do with the fact that I will never be able to see myself like others see me. It's impossible for me. I will never be able to look at myself and think I look fantastic. It's just not going to happen. You know those wacky mirrors at carnivals that distort how you look? That's me on a permanent basis.

Please don't anyone jump the gun and think I'm anorexic or something. I'm not. Trust me, you should see the crap I throw in my mouth. (Ok, that probably won't elicit any sympathy from anyone either.) Anyway, this is about my head, how my brain views my body. It's about viewing myself through a tainted lens, and it's not something I would wish on anyone. It's hard to like yourself when you hate your body. It's often times impossible.

I don't know why I'm throwing all of this out there, and I don't really expect anyone to get it. Hell, if I were someone else reading this I probably wouldn't have made it this far into the post. I guess I wrote this partly to explain myself, but it's more than that. I've always known this about myself, but I guess I've never actually gotten it out. I don't expect for it to change anything, but it does feel good just to get it all out there. So, there ya have it. It doesn't matter what things look like on the outside. You just never know what the fuck is going on in the inside.

An Earnest Attempt to Cheer Myself Up

We got not so great news today. Dixie will not be able to come home this weekend. Her radiation level was 800 today, and I was told that it would not fall fast enough for her to be able to be released this weekend. Apparently the level falls quickly in the first couple of days, but once it reaches 800-900 it starts dropping more slowly. So this means that the earliest we can have our kitty home is Monday.

I've been doing ok, but when I found out that she won't be home this weekend I was not a happy camper. I was really counting on having her home. I hate that she's going to have to spend even more time locked in a little cage with only strangers in sight. I've been told that she's doing well, but it's still hard.

I decided I needed to try to cheer myself up, so I headed to the Galleria for some retail therapy. It started out pretty well. I had a lovely pick me up at Banana Republic when I tried on a size 0 dress, and it was still a tad too big. I love that stores seem to be making their sizes bigger every year. What a lovely self esteem boost. I wish it had actually fit, though, because it was quite cute and quite on sale.

I continued to have a relatively non bad time until I was heading out. I had to walk out through Neiman Marcus to get to my car. I'm not a fan of that store or others like it. It just feels too pretentious to me in there. Anyway, I was walking down the aisle, and guess what I had to walk past? Two 10 ft. models with 8 ft. legs. (Ok, maybe they weren't that tall, but it sure felt like it.) They were strutting down the aisle saying, "We're showing Praaaaada today." I mean I had to walk right next to them to get out of there. My 5'3" jeans and t-shirt wearing self did not feel fabulous walking next to some bona fide models. Anyway, I got out of there rather quick like.

I did manage to distract myself for a little while. I'm doing my best not to get too down in the dumps about the fact that my kitty is stuck in kitty jail for another weekend. It's hard, though. For once, I want the weekend to fly by.

Waiting, Waiting, and More Waiting

I've never claimed to be a patient person, but this waiting is driving me crazy. Sometime it feels like that's all we're doing right now.

I've almost lost count of all of the test results we're waiting on. Karyotyping, SCSA, my repeat infectious disease testing, pap results. I guess that's enough. I'm also waiting on my darn body to get a move on this cycle. I'm on CD21, and still haven't had an LH surge. It seems like ovulation is nowhere in sight. I can't schedule my sonohystogram and endo biopsies until I get that surge. My body is rebelling, and I understand. I've put the darn thing through hell, but it would still be nice if it would cooperate just a little bit.

We're also waiting to see when my sweet kitty can be released. She's doing well, but we're ready to have her home. Yesterday her radiation level was at 1600, and today it was at 1000. She can't come home until it's dropped to 500. We've been given a 50/50 chance of having her home by this weekend.

I'm trying my best to go with the flow, but it's hard when I can't really do anything about all of this. I feel much better when I'm actively involved in whatever is going on. This too shall pass I guess. It better.

That Was Almost as Bad as the Wait for the Beta Phone Call

Almost. Today was Dixie's big treatment day. I brought her in this morning, got the rundown on everything from the doctor, handed over my sweet kitty and a nice size deposit, and then wandered through the building trying my best to make it to the parking lot while bawling my eyes out.

A lot of tests had to be done before the final decision to treat her with the radioactive iodine could be made. They had to make sure that she's otherwise healthy, and they had to determine the extent of her hyperthyroidism. Those tests included a complete blood panel, urinalysis, chest films, and a thyroid scan. Dixie also had a little bump on her side that was questionable, so it was aspirated. I was told all of that would be done and then I would be called.

I waited and waited for that phone to ring. I was so scared that they were going to find something else wrong with her. She is 16 for goodness sakes. The phone finally rang at 3:30, and I got the report on the day's results. Dixie's bloodwork, chest films, and urinalysis all came back normal. The bump on her side was aspirated and was found to be a benign cyst. Her thyroid scan confirmed that she is indeed hyperthyroid, that she has the benign form of hyperthyroidism, and that both lobes of the thyroid gland are affected. She was given the standard dose of radioactive iodine and all appears to be going well. The doctor said she was awake and meowing loudly in her cage as we spoke. That's my girl. She's got a big mouth just like her mama.

I can't even begin to explain how relieved I feel right now. I really hope this treatment is just what she needs to feel better. I'll be able to call in every day to check and see how she's doing. We're keeping our fingers crossed that she'll be home by Friday or Saturday, but it all depends on how her body processes the radioactive iodine. I can't wait to have her home, though. I miss her so much.

My Cat the Vacuum Cleaner

My youngest kitty, Salvador, started throwing up this afternoon. He puked, and then he puked again, and then he puked some more. I started getting worried. Two sick cats would just about do me in. Finally he puked up this:



I didn't know what it was. It was a six inch long piece of something resembling a shoe lace. There's just no telling what that cat got into. So, I went into our office to upload the picture to our desktop in order to include it in this post. While doing so, I found this:



It didn't take me long to figure out that my darling kitty had chewed up one of the pull string things on the mini blinds in the office and then decided that it would be a good idea to eat part of it. He's taken a liking to those things before, but we've always tied them up just out of reach. However, I recently raised the blinds in the office, because my girl kitties love to lie in the sun that comes in during the day. I forgot to tie up the stringy things higher, though. Apparently it didn't take Salvador long to discover this oversight. Silly cat. See how mischievous he looks?



Anyway, he's fine now thank goodness. Just another exciting day with my crazy kitty.

One More Crossed Off the List

I tell ya, I'm beginning to feel like a lab rat. We can cross one more test off of the list, though, because my husband and I went and got our blood drawn this morning for our karyotype tests. Next up- the ever so fun pap and "well woman exam." What a name. I doubt I qualify as a "well woman." Anyway, I'll get that over with on Wednesday, and while I'm there I'll get my OB/GYN to run my viral blood tests again. You know, the ones to make sure I haven't caught an infectious disease in the past 6 months. My RE requires them to be updated that often, so I guess I better get them done if I ever want to cycle again.

In other testing news, my RE's office faxed a form over to my husband at work on Friday so that he could officially release the sperm for the SCSA testing. The thing had to be notarized and everything. Luckily my husband's secretary is a notary, as are most of the secretaries in the firm, so that wasn't a problem. I asked him if it was weird having his secretary notarize a sperm form, but he said that it was all written in code. You know, MESA, SCSA, etc.

I still haven't been able to schedule my sonohystogram and endo biopsies, because my body is being a slow poke this cycle. I'm on cycle day 18 and still no darn LH surge. I had to go out and buy a second box of those stupid OPK's this weekend. Ugh. I hate having to pee on those stupid things every day. I wish my body would just hurry up and cooperate.

I can't wait to have all of this testing done. I do feel like we're making some progress, though. I guess sometimes you have to go backwards before you can go forwards again.

I'm Making Myself Ill

Literally. Last month my oldest kitty, Dixie, was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism. We decided to start her on a transdermal form of thyroid medicine applied once daily to the inside of the ear. This seemed like the best initial approach. She did not do well with the medicine, however. It made her head itchy, and as a result she scratched bald spots behind her ears, over her eyes, and under her chin. As if that wasn't enough, she started vomiting a lot. Like 10-12 times a day. As soon as that started I called our vet, and we decided to take her off of the medicine.

The itching and vomiting stopped quickly, but without the medicine her hyperthyroidism wasn't being treated. My husband and I have decided to have her go through the radioactive iodine treatment. We just can't watch her waste away when there's something out there that can treat her condition. It's really expensive, but that's ok.

The thing is that I'm having serious second thoughts about going through with it. I know it's probably for the best, but I can't stand the thought of her having to be away from home for a week. I'm making myself sick with worry. She's just such a fragile old lady kitty. Just thinking about not being able to be there with her turns my stomach.

I want her to get better, but I don't want to feel like this. I hate when my body fills up so much with worry and nervousness that there's room for nothing else. I know I'm dramatic, but I just can't help it.

She's going in on Tuesday for the treatment. I went out today and bought her some things to make her stay a little easier. I stocked up on her food just in case she doesn't like the kind at the vet's. I bought her a new little stuffed mouse and a kitty sized pillow for her cage. She loves to lay on pillows, and I wanted her to be as comfy as possible while in kitty jail.

Next week is going to be really tough. I won't be able to visit her since she'll be radioactive. I really hope she will be able to handle the stress of being away from home for so long. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to her. She's been part of my life since I was 11, and I can't imagine life without her.

Damn Blogger

I don't know what the deal is, but Blogger has been giving me fits. It wouldn't let me post yesterday, and today it was giving me some "this blog can't be found" error when going to the comments section. I republished, and it seems to be behaving now. I know a lot of people are switching over to Typepad. I would, too, if I wasn't so darn cheap. Anyway, hopefully things will be working better now.

Progress

I tried posting earlier today, but Blogger was being a total bitch. Anyway, we're making some headway, and it feels damn good. The waiting is really hard for me. Being forced to take a break is really, really hard for me. It does help to make a little progress every now and then, though.

I've been waiting not so patiently for a week and a half on some insurance stuff. Today I found out that my new referral to my RE had finally been processed, so hopefully we'll be able to get my upcoming sonohystogram and endometrial biopsy covered. I also found out that the karyotyping for both my husband and myself had been approved, so the lab paperwork for that is on its way to us. Today also brought news that we definitely have enough sperm to do the SCSA test. It was confirmed with the SCSA people, so things are in the works to have the sperm shipped off for testing.

I'm definitely breathing a little easier now that things are moving with all of this testing stuff. I cannot wait to get it all over with, though. I'm ready to get this show back on the road.

I've Never Felt So Freakin' Normal

I don't typically describe myself as normal. That's just not me. It seems my blood is, though. Most of my blood test results have come back, and they all look fine. Thyroid tests- normal, immune/antibodies tests- normal, blood clotting tests- normal, glucose tests- normal. That's a whole lot of normal.

Oh, and my beta had fallen all the way back down. No surprise there. Especially given the fact that I'm now on day 11 of my post chemical period. Oh, yes. Day freakin' 11.

It's good to know that nothing funky is going on with any of my bloodwork, but it's frustrating to not get any closer to having answers. I just want something to fix, ya know.


Oh, I needed a laugh today. My spell checker thinks I should replace "freakin" with "foreskin." Too funny.

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Edited to add my apologies to Bloglines users. I don't know why Bloglines is deciding to show only part of my post today. It did that the other day, too. I hate that. Don't ask me why the hell it's doing that. I haven't changed a single thing.

Isn't It Ironic?

The other day my husband and I were shopping, and I started loading the items from our cart onto the conveyer belt thing at the checkout. I leaned over to him and asked, "Don't you think it's ironic that we're buying ovulation predictor kits and alcohol at the same time?" His reply was, "I think it's pretty ironic that we're buying ovulation predictor kits at all."

Oh, yes. I am peeing on sticks again. I know. Isn't it odd for someone whose husband has no sperm to be pulling out the ovulation predictor kits? Yeah, I think so, too. The thing is that I have to find my LH surge this cycle in order to schedule my beta 3 integrin biopsy for the right time. It has to be pretty precise in terms of timing, so I'm peeing on the damn sticks.

It brings back pretty bad memories, I must say. I'm using the same brand as the HPT's I've used in the past, so they look exactly the same. I don't like the feeling I get in my stomach when I break out one of those sticks.

I also think it's ironic that I'm breaking out the ovulation predictor kits before my period's completely left the scene. I mean, this is insane. I'm on cycle day 10 for pete's sake. This sucks. Plus, I have no idea what my body will do this cycle. I haven't had a natural cycle since July. Yep, July. I started birth control pills for my first IVF cycle on August 1st and have been cycling ever since.

I feel like a complete infertility newbie. It has been so long since I've used OPK's that I forgot how to use them. I've got the peeing thing down, but I forgot that you weren't supposed to use first morning urine and all that good stuff. Plus, dealing with the whole "is this line exactly as dark as the other line" thing is tons of fun. I was trying to figure out when the last time I used one of those suckers was, and I think it's been about two years. My husband was diagnosed almost a year and a half ago, and I know we had given up on the OPK's well before then. Here we are over three years since the start of this "project" and I feel like we're back to square one. Combine all of the testing with the OPK's, and I feel like we're starting all over again. Of course, all I have to do is flash back to the past 7 months, and I know that's not the case.

So, I guess we'll see what my body decides to do. Sometimes it feels like this is all one giant experiment. Science is cool, but being a guinea pig sucks.