austin_tycho | (no subject)

Yesterday started out with so much promise. We were pondering what to do and thinking of calling Brenda and inviting her to a movie. Instead, she called us and needed a jump for her car- formerly my car, and I still feel guilty every time something goes wrong with it, though she goes at great lengths to assure me that this is unnecessary. Anyway, so we jumped it and took it to Firestone and all came back home. She didn't want to see a movie in case they called in the middle, so we went instead to run some errands.

We had been wanting to check out Costco for some time. They are like Sams (motto: We sell things by the assload!) except they apparently treat their employees like human beings. We didn't have the membership fee to spend yet but they let us look around anyway and we marveled at the diverse amount of stuff there. I don't know why it's amazing to see a gallon jar of maraschino cherries or whatever, but we're easily entertained, I guess. Partway through our journey, I started feeling the tell-tale signs of a long bout of seriously painful cramping. We still had to run to Whole Foods, and by the time we got done I was clammy and shaky and feeling like my whole pelvic area was on fire. So we got home and I popped some Vicodin and Wal-profin, and went up and curled in ball in bed. Fortunately Brenda had brought a book with her, and she and Eric hung out until they finally called her about her car (alternator- not very expensive, fortunately). I drifted in and out of consciousness for several hours and finally felt human again around 8pm or so. Hub got me some yummy food (all I want to eat when I feel like this seems to be mushroom soup from La Madeleine's) and we watched some Buffy and Angel episodes and eventually went to bed. Oh- after watching an all Christopher Walken Saturday Night Live! I've always liked him, he's such a freak. I woke up several times during the night, including once around 5am with more pain, so I took a bunch of Wal-profin.

You know, I'm about 90% convinced that I don't even want to bother with a second opinion. My uterus is causing me nothing but trouble, and I want it out of my body. It's doing nothing to earn its keep as far as I can tell, and I'm completely sick of this shit. I will probably call Gyno after all this Mom stuff is over and arrange to have it evicted.

Now, I'm at work. I'm exhausted from lack of quality sleep, and Kirby's not here (I hope she's okay). It's going to be a long day, but probably boring like a typical Sunday which is nice- next week's going to kick my ass.