But, on the real, I’m totally going ONE DAY, damnit.

So, lots of us actually reading things online today are “the ones who did not go to BlogHer Con.”

The ones who are going will probably be busy travelling to San Fransisco and settling in for the start of the conference on the 18th.

And some of us are jealous, and some of us don’t give a flying fart… some of us are crying into our keyboards, others are claiming sour grapes… some of us are blatantly pissed off, others of us are like, “eh? BlogWho?”  You get the idea.

I basically feel like this:  There are a ton of people all in one place right now who, for some reason or other, do this same thing I enjoy doing.  “Blog.”  Many of them do it for the exact same reasons I do, many have entirely different reasons.  A good handful of them are people I admire, adore even.  And lots of them are intriguing and interesting people I have never even been exposed to, but could meet if I were there.  I would like the opportunity to meet the people I adore, and those I could potentially adore.

I’m settling for pictures of them with a picture of my boobies.  What can I say.  I’m easily amused.

Money is the main reason I’m not there right now.  Ladies and Gents, that shit is expensive.  And, that is not to say that we don’t have enough in savings, finally.  Because we do, after kicking ourselves in our collective ass around here this past several months and scraping every extra penny into a savings account.

(Oh, hello, we can actually be responsible adults with a savings account?  Who knew?  Wow, John and Lotus are growing up! Congrats to them!)

BUT, and here’s where I might sound bitchy, I have to force myself to have some perspective right now.  To have some more sharply focused priorities than spending money to hang wif mah homies.  (This is in NO way a judgement of anyone else’s priorities – it’s about our specific situation - read on!)

I probably could have talked John into letting me spend the money in our savings on the BlogHer trip.  Not necessarily because I’m that persuasive and manipulative (*cough*) but because he loves me dearly and, to a fault, he tries to make me happy.  (The man changed out of his PJ’s the other night to go buy me ice cream, did you read about that on Twitter?  Clearly, a saint among mortals.)

But we have some lofty goals, like paying off my student loan (which I got so I could get that M.A. that I am so obviously using the hell out of right now, see? ugh.), creating a medical fund (hai, we have no health insurance, kthxbai), buying a larger family vehicle (Honda Civic not going to cut it if we ever actually succeed at having a second child), and actually having enough of a downpayment saved to buy a house again.  Because, I’m sorry, but renting sucks donkeys.

Those are big, bad, crazy dreams, my friends.  And we’d like to attain them in no more than the next 2-4 years.  Which, when starting with no savings, is pretty damn adventurous and hopeful.  But certainly not Un-Doable.

Not Un-Doable at all… With a lot of sacrifice of things not absolutely necessary, and a lot of forced prioritizing.

Which means no hanging wif mah homies that costs $1000+, no new camera, no lots of stuff I would really reee-heee-heeeeeaaaally like.

And?  It’s totally going to be worth it.  So, while I’m a bit jealous, that’s it.  I’m not uber upset.

(But once we have our house and ect., I am GOING to BlogHer, and I’m rooming with her and I’m absolutely licking her.)

I wrote this post because several people have been surprised that I’m not going to BlogHer Con, and asked me why.  Now ya know!

 

 

First, I totally bore you with the medical stuff… then, Pee Pee!

Several kind readers have been asking me about how my appointment with the Endocrinologist went on Jan.28.

(For links on the back story, visit here, here, here and here. I have Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, and have been experiencing Clinical Depression for some time.)

This post will probably be very long, and probably not all that funny. I know some of you come here for your funny. If you stick with me while I’m playing Debbie Downer today, I’ll give you some funny at the end. Promise. Okay?

Okay.

The actual Endo visit was like this:

Got there, signed in, sat down. Read book. Suddenly wanted to cry. Had no idea WHY. Unable to keep reading. Closed eyes and put head against wall. Receptionist asked if I was okay. I nodded yes.

Then I started crying.

I couldn’t stop it from happening. I didn’t know why I was even doing it. It.was.so.embarrassing.

They took me back to the exam room early because they felt sorry for me. Nice, really. But damn, did I feel stupid.

Nurse: “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Me: “No. Uh… I don’t know?”

Ugh.

The doctor was very kind. She was compassionate, reassuring, attentive, and never rushed me. She explained that I need another ultrasound of the thyroid since it has been 3 years since the last, and I may have developed cancerous nodules during that time. We also agreed on a 3 month cycle for my blood test check ups. Ongoing monitoring is necessary because the status of the disease can change at any time, and can ostensibly be life-threatening.

She indicated that the symptoms of hypothyroidism that I’m experiencing are also the symptoms of clinical depression (you don’t say?) and that if my hormone levels are normal (they were in December) that it is likely that is my problem, as per those symptoms. She said I would need to see a Primary Care Physician to address that. (Like I can afford it, but oh well.)

Before I left the office, I gave more blood. She wanted to make sure there had been no change since the blood tests from December. The results arrived a couple of days ago. My thyroid antibodies are insanely high (you can read about that in one of the above linked posts) but the hormone is “normal.” So no treatment for me from the Endo.

And if I want to get treatment for the Depression, I’m being handed off to yet another doctor, along with another visit fee, plus any other fees for tests and treatment. The bills are already crushing us, and so far, since being diagnosed with the Hashimoto’s back in early 2005, I have received NO treatment that would improve my symptoms. NOT ONCE.

Rewind: When I got home from the appointment on Monday, I decided to continue on some research I’ve been doing lately concerning the link between depression and birth control pills. It can get confusing wading through all that’s out there, but the thrust of it is this: there is a link between depression and birth control pills. Many women report feeling symptoms of depression while on The Pill.

Recently, Veronica told me that when she was on triphasic birth control she “got horribly depressed,” and has “felt miles better since [she] stopped the pill.” Similarly, Jill told me, “it [birth control] drained my energy and stole my libido.”

The progestin contained in the pills is thought to aggravate depression in women who already have it, or trigger it in those who are sensitive/prone to it. In combination pills (estrogen/progestin) the estrogen is said to balance out the negative effect of the progestin. However, again, women who are sensitive to it may still be affected by the progestin ingested.

My own experience, now that I can look back at my past history, has been that while taking a combined pill called Triphasil, I suffer low levels of depression (somewhat manageable), but on Ortho-Tri-Cyclen (what I was on years ago, and then again this year) I suffer incredible depression, including, but certainly not limited to: physical pain in back and neck, extreme fatigue, mood swings, numb/flat affect, irritability, sadness, and loss of libido.

It should be no surprise to learn that, though both pills are triphasic, combination pills (varying levels throughout the month of both estrogen and progestin), The Ortho-Tri-Cyclen will deliver two and a half times the amount of progestin in 3 weeks use as will the Triphasil. [source]

That’s Two And A Half Times the ingredient which can aggravate/trigger depression in many women.

Not a single doctor I have ever visited suggested this as my problem. Not once, in the 13 years I have taken birth control pill. Not once in the very many times I have complained about depression, fatigue, and pain to many different doctors who all knew I was on The Pill.

(Incidentally, both the types of BC I have taken are on the low side for progestin doses, when compared to the many other types of BC, but because I am obviously sensitive to it, that was enough to cause an imbalance for me.)

There has also been recent research detailing the loss of libido for women who take the pill, including a warning of long-term damage. In one study, women who had been taking The Pill for some time had 4 times the amount of SHBG (sex-hormone-binding globulin) in their bodies as did women who had never taken the pill. Hello, depleted libido! Even after 120 days off the pill, these women still had twice as much SHBG in their bodies ad did those who had never taken The Pill. While this is somewhat depressing itself, as it shows that there can be long-term damage to the libido… it also means that some amount of healing can occur over time! YAY!

Last Monday, feeling unhelped by a series of doctors, and without the money to keep visiting more, I did my research on birth control. I talked to John about what I had found so far, and we agreed that it was enough information to prompt me to stop taking birth control to see what happens. After all, things have been very, very much “not good” around here for the past several months.

I try to be frank and honest with you all always, but I talk about the tip of the iceberg here – I don’t like to drag you down with the specifics of the pain I (and my family) endure because I am mentally ill. But do a little reading about Clinical Depression on your own, and you will see that it can be a very frustrating, very ugly thing.

So. I stopped taking The Pill Monday, January 28th. It will probably take some time for me to know for sure whether this is really going to help, or whether I will still need medication. But I can give you a positive report so far. It has been a week, and already John has said that I have been less moody and more kind to him.

And me? I can sense a great change in my “thought life.” I am already finding that I get angry about things less often, and my mood feels generally happier. The debilitating pain in my shoulder/upper back/neck that I have been struggling with for over a month is GONE. I am not feeling as tired as I have recently felt and am more motivated to do things around the house. I think I’ve prepared dinner more times this past week than I did all last month. So? Already feeling better.

In just one week.

I’m not calling for every woman out there to stop taking the pill. It is probably the right thing for some women. But it is definitely not the right thing for every woman. If you take it, and you feel depressed? Ask your doctor for answers. Ask yourself – is it worth this? Could this be what’s hurting me, and those I love? I wish I had known this stuff sooner. I wish my doctors had told me.

I want to take this opportunity to apologize to every single person who’s had to be on the receiving end of my problem, in any way, at any time. It gets hard inside my heart sometimes… it gets ugly inside my head. That flows out of my mouth and my fingers sometimes. Sometimes a lot. I am so sorry.

I want to thank my husband for trying not to kill me, and succeeding.

And I want to thank every single person who says nice things to me on a regular basis. Thank you to every friend and acquaintance who has tried to brighten my day. Thank you to those of you who stick by me and are helping me get through the dark days and make it back into the light. Or, well, into the light at all. You all mean more to me than you can possibly know.

Thank you so much.
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So, you made it to the end? Did you read, or just fast-forward for the funny? Ah well, whichever it was, you made it to the end. You deserve your funny, just because you came here to see me. And also because it’s Tickle Me Tuesday, according to Marie.  

So?  Here’s my funny for the day:

My child is prone to butt rashes, and so, 85% of the time, he is at least half-naked. Regular readers can confirm that there are several Braden Hiney Sightings here on a regular basis.

Result of giving in to the desire to hold and love on your half-naked child:

Just for a moment.

Sometimes you have to give in.  Sometimes you have to reach out.  Sometimes?  You have to do something just because your soul said, “Please, can we do this?”

Yesterday, we drove south for over an hour, on a whim, with a 15 month old in the back seat, just to look at something.  Just to touch it for a few minutes.  It was a Colonial home that was built circa 1900, on 10 acres.  We drove south for over an hour, with baby snacks and juice and diapers and songs like “ABC” and “The Itsy Bitsy Spider,” because it’s for sale, and my heart ached to see it in person.  Ached to stand on that old front porch. 

John humors me like that because he loves me.

I was so at home standing next to the bubbling creek on the property… looking out over the rolling hills into the blue sky… with nothing commercial for miles and miles and miles.  Just trees, bare of leaves.  For now.  But my mind’s eye could see their summer coats of shiny, green leaves, waving in the breeze. 

Grass under my feet… I could imagine the stark contrast of the white stars against the black night sky that would happen on that spot in hours time.  If I closed my eyes, I could see the garden I would plant on the acreage.  I could hear my son playing and splashing in the pond, with a big dog that we’d have. 

I wonder if John could hear the creak of the tire swing hanging from the tree in the front yard?  Or see me sitting under the shade of the magnolia tree around back, reading a book, as the tree burst with fragrant white blossoms over my head.  Maybe he could hear the birds singing, like I could.  Maybe he was lost in that moment, too?

I guess sometimes you have to let your heart dream so hard that you let it drag you for miles and miles just to touch something with your own hands, just for a moment, even if it means your dream will fall and break at your feet.

We decided that it’s just too far away from the town we need to be close to.   

So we drove all the way home again. 

Between the Colonial and our (rented) home we talked about desire and life and money and old age.  We touched on needs and hopes and the dreaded Practicality and Responsibility. 

We breathed in life, we breathed out patience.

Braden screamed and fussed… he laughed, sang, and talked.  He bucked, thrashed and complained, and at one point, he peed all over me. 

Then we drove the rest of the way home, and I had cold piss all over the side of my shirt. 

But I was happy.

When we got home, Braden ran all over the living room wearing nothing but a shirt and socks, laughing and screaming. 

With stars in our eyes, we watched him run to the curtains and twirl himself up in them over and over again, giggling madly as he fell to the floor, then jumping up to do it all over again.

We breathed in life, we breathed out love.  And it felt just right.

It was a great day.

From My Inbox, Episode 1

I get some interesting crap in my inboxes. I’ll bet you do, too. Let us laugh at it, here!

Just a few days ago, I received this gem:

[Dear Friend,

I know that this message will come to you as a surprise. I am the bill and exchange manager in BANK OF AFRICA (B.O.A) ANNEX, OUAGADOUGOU Burkina faso. I Hoped that you will not expose or betray this trust and confident that i am about to repose on you for the mutual benefit of our both families.

I need your urgent assistance in transferring the sum of ($15.5) MILLION to your account within 10 or 14 banking days. This money has been dormant for years in our Bank without claim.

I want the bank to release the money to you as the nearest person to our deceased customer(the owner of the account) died along with his supposed next of kin in an air crash since, July 21, 2003.I don't want the money to go into our Bank treasurer as an abandoned fund.

So this is the reason why i contacted you so that the bank can release the money to you as the next of kin to the deceased customer. Please I would like you to keep this proposal as a top secret and delete it if you are not interested.

Upon receipt of your reply,i will give you full details on how the business will be executed and also note that you will have 30% of the above mentioned sum if you agree to handle this business with me.

Best Regard.
Mr Molahi Ahmed.
Please,It is top secret. OK]

There is just SO MUCH wrong with this. I don’t think I even got through 3 lines of this e-mail before I started laughing so hard that I peed a little.

(Remind me to do some more kegel exercises, will ya?)

There’s the undercurrent of “anyone who believes this is A MORON,” of course… and then the insanely poor phrasing/improper use of language that just makes you itchy with “hahaha!”

But I think my favorite part is the ending.

“Please,It is top secret. OK”

You have no idea how much I am going to say/write/everything that phrase now. Ahhh, thanks Mr. Molahi Ahmed, you have made me laugh aplenty.

And don’t worry! Your secret is safe with me! OK