Thursday 31 May 2007
Argh
It is end of month and my storeman hasn't turned up. Again. His idea of an 8'o'clock start is rather ...different to mine.
I've already loaded 3 trucks this morning, I have another due any minute and IT'S END OF MONTH! So, feeling cheerful.
Can I go home yet?
I've already loaded 3 trucks this morning, I have another due any minute and IT'S END OF MONTH! So, feeling cheerful.
Can I go home yet?
Wednesday 30 May 2007
Psychological fricking warfare
My period is five days late, and my mind and body have gone to war. My body refuses to co-operate, my mind is getting pissy ...my body is standing it's ground, and my mind is getting pissier (not a word, I know, but it works). It's revolting really, our hope of becoming pregnant is so small, and yet we're staring down a very late period ...the one thing you hope for when you can't get pregnant, but for reasons other than just a contrary body. Someone is getting a laugh out of this, but it's not me.
The one thing I had going for me in all of this was nice regular 28/29 day cycles. I jumped out of line a little after the surgery, probably because I bled a lot afterwards and my body went into recovery mode, but that was months ago and I was back to my usual cycle length within 2 cycles. Apart from that? I was only noticeably late when I was pregnant.
I'm not, by the way, in case you're clapping your hands. The poor husband has been walking on egg shells, checking every morning if it's started, and finally convinced me to do a pregnancy test last night. Two lines is negative, right? No, no. I'm joking. Bad joke, but a joke nonetheless. Us infertiles get our kicks where we can. It was negative. Promise. Very negative. No doubt about it. Just as well really. I'd have hated to have missed out on IVF. It's going to be such fun.
I'd swear on the bible that I tracked my ovulation correctly this month as well, and yet here we are. Five days late.
My PMS has PMS.
Bollocks.
Stupid body.
The one thing I had going for me in all of this was nice regular 28/29 day cycles. I jumped out of line a little after the surgery, probably because I bled a lot afterwards and my body went into recovery mode, but that was months ago and I was back to my usual cycle length within 2 cycles. Apart from that? I was only noticeably late when I was pregnant.
I'm not, by the way, in case you're clapping your hands. The poor husband has been walking on egg shells, checking every morning if it's started, and finally convinced me to do a pregnancy test last night. Two lines is negative, right? No, no. I'm joking. Bad joke, but a joke nonetheless. Us infertiles get our kicks where we can. It was negative. Promise. Very negative. No doubt about it. Just as well really. I'd have hated to have missed out on IVF. It's going to be such fun.
I'd swear on the bible that I tracked my ovulation correctly this month as well, and yet here we are. Five days late.
My PMS has PMS.
Bollocks.
Stupid body.
Tuesday 29 May 2007
Note to self
If you're only packing 65kgs, don't be thinking it's a good idea to load into a customer's car twelve twenty kilo drums of adhesive, carrying two at a time one in each hand (total of 40kg each trip - two thirds of your body weight) up the length of the warehouse because you can't be arsed going into the office to find your forkhoist keys. It might be good exercise, but your shoulder muscles will note their displeasure the next day.
Leaving your walkabout phone on your desk in the front office whilst working down the back of the warehouse, thus requiring you to run the length of the warehouse to answer (regular) calls, is perfectly fine. It's not very time efficient, but wears off the chocky bickies you had for morning tea quite effectively. It also gives your boss (who is unbeknownst to you, standing in your office, by your desk) a blimmin good laugh when he waits for you to run the entire length of said warehouse to grab the ringning phone, and then answers it just as you skid to a halt at your desk.
Good times, good times.
Leaving your walkabout phone on your desk in the front office whilst working down the back of the warehouse, thus requiring you to run the length of the warehouse to answer (regular) calls, is perfectly fine. It's not very time efficient, but wears off the chocky bickies you had for morning tea quite effectively. It also gives your boss (who is unbeknownst to you, standing in your office, by your desk) a blimmin good laugh when he waits for you to run the entire length of said warehouse to grab the ringning phone, and then answers it just as you skid to a halt at your desk.
Good times, good times.
Monday 28 May 2007
I almost forgot ...
What I really wanted was one of the Police car, but they turned up in plain clothes cars and foiled my evil plan to take sly photos for your bloggy entertainment. So, you just get this one instead.
Is it just me, or are even criminals getting lazy?
Work was broken into on Saturday night, and I'm really not sure why they bothered.
Firstly, it wasn't opportunistic. Choosing our premises might have been, but they were intending to break into somewhere. They even came with tools to get in - a crowbar and a drill at least.
But the thing is that there are 8 foot fences on 3 sides of our premises (the other side is the building, which is the fence), one is on the roadside, so not a good access or escape route, and the other is electrified with razor-wire along the top, so also not a good escape or access route. So, one way in and one way out, over an 8 foot fence. I don't know about you, but I'd be thinking twice while I was climbing over the fence.
I'd probably have stopped and had another think about it when I came face to face with Matrix stickers advising that the premises have a monitored alarm, and the blinking alarm box thing on the outside of the building sort of suggests that we're not lying about that.
But, they obviously figured it was worth a go, so came in, tossed the place and made a wicked mess, ripped out phone lines and cut wires to try and cut the alarm I guess, and yet the only thing they took was a knackered lap top and a camera that doesn't work either (the charger is apparently somewhere in England ...). They left alcohol, a PC (OK, so the computer box wouldn't have been worth the effort, but the lovely shiny flat screen might have been), TVs, a DVD player, and a stereo. Admittedly, it would have been a bit difficult to it all back over the fence, but that raises the question of why they broke in in the first place.
You could deduce that perhaps they were looking for cash or credit card information. It's a logical deduction ... except I had both sitting in the top drawer of my desk, which they went through quite thoroughly, and they didn't take either. I mean, seriously? Where was their dedication to the task?
If they were sniffers or knew some, a drum or two of our adhesive or solvent would have been a prize (the stuff honks), although, again, difficult to get over the fence - but there would have been at least 2 of them, so working as a team you'd think ...anyway. I had drums of both out of DG (dangerous goods) lock up, and they didn't look at those either. Who knows?
So all they really achieved was a mess. They did get the laptop, but they're soon going to find out that that was a complete waste of time.
I'll post a pic later.
Firstly, it wasn't opportunistic. Choosing our premises might have been, but they were intending to break into somewhere. They even came with tools to get in - a crowbar and a drill at least.
But the thing is that there are 8 foot fences on 3 sides of our premises (the other side is the building, which is the fence), one is on the roadside, so not a good access or escape route, and the other is electrified with razor-wire along the top, so also not a good escape or access route. So, one way in and one way out, over an 8 foot fence. I don't know about you, but I'd be thinking twice while I was climbing over the fence.
I'd probably have stopped and had another think about it when I came face to face with Matrix stickers advising that the premises have a monitored alarm, and the blinking alarm box thing on the outside of the building sort of suggests that we're not lying about that.
But, they obviously figured it was worth a go, so came in, tossed the place and made a wicked mess, ripped out phone lines and cut wires to try and cut the alarm I guess, and yet the only thing they took was a knackered lap top and a camera that doesn't work either (the charger is apparently somewhere in England ...). They left alcohol, a PC (OK, so the computer box wouldn't have been worth the effort, but the lovely shiny flat screen might have been), TVs, a DVD player, and a stereo. Admittedly, it would have been a bit difficult to it all back over the fence, but that raises the question of why they broke in in the first place.
You could deduce that perhaps they were looking for cash or credit card information. It's a logical deduction ... except I had both sitting in the top drawer of my desk, which they went through quite thoroughly, and they didn't take either. I mean, seriously? Where was their dedication to the task?
If they were sniffers or knew some, a drum or two of our adhesive or solvent would have been a prize (the stuff honks), although, again, difficult to get over the fence - but there would have been at least 2 of them, so working as a team you'd think ...anyway. I had drums of both out of DG (dangerous goods) lock up, and they didn't look at those either. Who knows?
So all they really achieved was a mess. They did get the laptop, but they're soon going to find out that that was a complete waste of time.
I'll post a pic later.
Friday 25 May 2007
What a week it's been
It's Friday. Thankfully. Finally. It's been such a long week.
In the course of the week:
I have turned down a job offer. I had an interview last Thursday and was offered the job the next day. One of our customers, when he caught wind of our impending move, offered me a job running his office. I declined Friday - I didn't want to be learning a new job with IVF coming up, and I didn't want to feel obliged to put IVF off because I was in a new job. IVF is the most important thing in our lives right now, it's our highest priority, and putting it off for a job? No thanks. I did still think very hard about it, whether it would be a good thing for me, but in the end, I decided to stay put.
Our office relocation was canned. Management have realised that our office and warehouse simply cannot be run out of the Papakura premises they wanted to shift us to. Our team is exhausted and stressed after a very long and intense few weeks, and we've all just sort of collapsed in a heap now that it's all over. It's been a very full time with Management from Head Office in Auckland trying to make it work, and not being able to. Don't even ask me about the unhappy customers that have pouring in the door endlessly to put their two cents in.
Al and I found out that, we will be doing IVF - there's little chance of natural conception. Yes, we were working towards it so it's not a surprise, but you always have hope, and that hope is what we've lost this week. It's a hard thing to accept. Yes, it's good to know why we're not conceiving (at least, successfully. I find it odd that we have conceived, prior to the endo surgery, but nothing has happened since. Dr. G has his theories, but who knows? The point is that it's been a looong time since the last time.), but it's hard to be completely helpless. I never thought we'd be making our babies in a lab when we decided to have a family. It was never in our plan that some faceless person with a lot of technology at their fingertips and fifty five degrees would be making our babies. But, hopefully, when it gets down to it, someone in the lab will let me take a photo of the big ass needle so I can post it on here, you lot can share in the squirming a little. It's only fair.
I have PMS.
Al has PMSATS (PMS Associated Trauma Syndrome)
But, on the bright side ... This morning, on the motorway, I had the brainwave of all brainwaves (yes, that's what that big blue flash in the sky was at about 7.15am), and finally came up with an idea of what I can give Al when he turns 30 in December (he's getting old - it's important to remind him of it ...rubbing it in is what any loving wife would do ...). It's a genius plan, so I'm feeling good, kicking off the day.
Happy Friday everyone!
In the course of the week:
I have turned down a job offer. I had an interview last Thursday and was offered the job the next day. One of our customers, when he caught wind of our impending move, offered me a job running his office. I declined Friday - I didn't want to be learning a new job with IVF coming up, and I didn't want to feel obliged to put IVF off because I was in a new job. IVF is the most important thing in our lives right now, it's our highest priority, and putting it off for a job? No thanks. I did still think very hard about it, whether it would be a good thing for me, but in the end, I decided to stay put.
Our office relocation was canned. Management have realised that our office and warehouse simply cannot be run out of the Papakura premises they wanted to shift us to. Our team is exhausted and stressed after a very long and intense few weeks, and we've all just sort of collapsed in a heap now that it's all over. It's been a very full time with Management from Head Office in Auckland trying to make it work, and not being able to. Don't even ask me about the unhappy customers that have pouring in the door endlessly to put their two cents in.
Al and I found out that, we will be doing IVF - there's little chance of natural conception. Yes, we were working towards it so it's not a surprise, but you always have hope, and that hope is what we've lost this week. It's a hard thing to accept. Yes, it's good to know why we're not conceiving (at least, successfully. I find it odd that we have conceived, prior to the endo surgery, but nothing has happened since. Dr. G has his theories, but who knows? The point is that it's been a looong time since the last time.), but it's hard to be completely helpless. I never thought we'd be making our babies in a lab when we decided to have a family. It was never in our plan that some faceless person with a lot of technology at their fingertips and fifty five degrees would be making our babies. But, hopefully, when it gets down to it, someone in the lab will let me take a photo of the big ass needle so I can post it on here, you lot can share in the squirming a little. It's only fair.
I have PMS.
Al has PMSATS (PMS Associated Trauma Syndrome)
But, on the bright side ... This morning, on the motorway, I had the brainwave of all brainwaves (yes, that's what that big blue flash in the sky was at about 7.15am), and finally came up with an idea of what I can give Al when he turns 30 in December (he's getting old - it's important to remind him of it ...rubbing it in is what any loving wife would do ...). It's a genius plan, so I'm feeling good, kicking off the day.
Happy Friday everyone!
Thursday 24 May 2007
Timing is everything
Scene:
The Ginger is sitting at the kitchen table, working on the laptop, while The Husband makes her a hot chocolate and himself a coffee (note: The Ginger is still ahead vis a vis the coffee making business ...The Husband has made more for The Ginger than The Ginger has made for The Husband). He has just picked up the jug for steaming the milk, to find the milk steamer nozzely thing sitting in water in the jug. The Ginger always does this ...steams her milk when making coffee, and then once finished, she puts clean water in the jug, runs the steamer for a short burst to clear the nozzle, and then pulls the nozzle off and leaves it in the water to soak or whatever.
The Husband "Tsk" (and picks the nozzle out of the water and rinses the jug)
The Ginger "What?"
The Husband "Nothing"
The Ginger "No. What? Does it annoy you that I do that?"
The Husband "Yes. You always do it."
The Ginger "Well ...it's soaking. To get all the milk off"
The Husband gives The Ginger a skeptical look.
The Ginger "You do things that annoy me. All the time"
The Husband "You never fill the iron up with water"
The Ginger "I do so!"
The Husband gives The Ginger yet another skeptical look
The Ginger "I do so fill it up!! I fill it up, and then I iron my clothes. I can't help it if I use all the new water when I iron my clothes."
The Husband snorts.
The Ginger "You never rinse the dish cloth when you've wiped up all the coffee grounds from making your coffee, and the cloth gets all manky and smelly and gross, and I have to rinse it. All the time."
The Husband pauses and then very artfully holds up, by one corner, the cloth The Ginger used that morning to wipe up her coffee grounds, still covered in coffee grounds, because she didn't rinse it (for the first time ever, I swear!).
Honestly, the timing.
I really should have used the leaving 5 pairs of work and walking boots strewn around the lounge. The cloth was a very bad example.
And for the record, this morning I rinsed the cloth and pulled the nozzle out of the jug.
The Ginger is sitting at the kitchen table, working on the laptop, while The Husband makes her a hot chocolate and himself a coffee (note: The Ginger is still ahead vis a vis the coffee making business ...The Husband has made more for The Ginger than The Ginger has made for The Husband). He has just picked up the jug for steaming the milk, to find the milk steamer nozzely thing sitting in water in the jug. The Ginger always does this ...steams her milk when making coffee, and then once finished, she puts clean water in the jug, runs the steamer for a short burst to clear the nozzle, and then pulls the nozzle off and leaves it in the water to soak or whatever.
The Husband "Tsk" (and picks the nozzle out of the water and rinses the jug)
The Ginger "What?"
The Husband "Nothing"
The Ginger "No. What? Does it annoy you that I do that?"
The Husband "Yes. You always do it."
The Ginger "Well ...it's soaking. To get all the milk off"
The Husband gives The Ginger a skeptical look.
The Ginger "You do things that annoy me. All the time"
The Husband "You never fill the iron up with water"
The Ginger "I do so!"
The Husband gives The Ginger yet another skeptical look
The Ginger "I do so fill it up!! I fill it up, and then I iron my clothes. I can't help it if I use all the new water when I iron my clothes."
The Husband snorts.
The Ginger "You never rinse the dish cloth when you've wiped up all the coffee grounds from making your coffee, and the cloth gets all manky and smelly and gross, and I have to rinse it. All the time."
The Husband pauses and then very artfully holds up, by one corner, the cloth The Ginger used that morning to wipe up her coffee grounds, still covered in coffee grounds, because she didn't rinse it (for the first time ever, I swear!).
Honestly, the timing.
I really should have used the leaving 5 pairs of work and walking boots strewn around the lounge. The cloth was a very bad example.
And for the record, this morning I rinsed the cloth and pulled the nozzle out of the jug.
Wednesday 23 May 2007
Every cloud has a silver lining
What complete horseshit. Whoever came up with that wee gem apparently wasn't paying my specialist.
You'll remember (and if you don't you should - I'm not pouring my heart out for your amusement kiddies. Well, not solely. There's a trade off here - I expect you to remember details) that after meeting with Dr. G in March, both Al and I had to have further tests done to confirm certain things - that I'm ok, making eggs, ovulating etc etc ...and that Al is ok, whether his borderline semen analysis results, done early on, were accurate or not (they were done through a non-specialist clinic, and therefore Dr. G was suspicious that they might have been cocked up, if you'll excuse the expression), and that the extras tested through FA, how well the sperm survive post ejaculation, and whether there were/are antibodies present etc, were all good.
All of that has now been finished, and it's not good. Dr. G called me on Monday to say that the sum of all the tests "changes things dramatically". We have to go back to see him, to find out where we go from here. He sounded as sad as I felt when he said to me "Don't give up.". He must find it so hard to deal with sad people all the time. I would.
So, what's wrong?
Well, we've only got part of the information at this stage - the important part though, which is that it aint going to happen on its own kiddies - so he wants to see us, to explain it all, scientific-like, face to face. Facts, figures and options.
Endo, on it's own, wasn't expected to be an issue. Add in male factor issues, which in this instance are significant motility (movement) and morphology (appearance) abnormalities and you've got yourself a couple who have gone, in one phone call, from having about a 10%-15% chance of natural conception (based on lag-time actually getting pregnant), to having about a ...ohhhh ...around 0% chance. Somewhere under the 5% mark anyway. We completely suck. Mind you, at least we suck together. It's both of us. Bad luck.
We'll be back in the specialist's office on June 14 to have our treatment options laid out, and get the cold, hard medical data we need to make informed decisions about those treatment options, and our future. I know that I'll feel a lot better once I've sat in that office and got figures, seen blood results and all the rest of it. If you give me data, I'm ok. Data makes this a lot more about science and a lot less about my heart. Science I can do. Data, I do very well.
So, the battle continues, and we've kicked it up a notch, but we'll get there. I don't see myself with a baby ...it's been over 2 years, so I'm having trouble visualising an end to this ...but I don't see us growing old childless, and that's the carrot that we're trying to catch, which is dangling at the end of the stick.
You'll remember (and if you don't you should - I'm not pouring my heart out for your amusement kiddies. Well, not solely. There's a trade off here - I expect you to remember details) that after meeting with Dr. G in March, both Al and I had to have further tests done to confirm certain things - that I'm ok, making eggs, ovulating etc etc ...and that Al is ok, whether his borderline semen analysis results, done early on, were accurate or not (they were done through a non-specialist clinic, and therefore Dr. G was suspicious that they might have been cocked up, if you'll excuse the expression), and that the extras tested through FA, how well the sperm survive post ejaculation, and whether there were/are antibodies present etc, were all good.
All of that has now been finished, and it's not good. Dr. G called me on Monday to say that the sum of all the tests "changes things dramatically". We have to go back to see him, to find out where we go from here. He sounded as sad as I felt when he said to me "Don't give up.". He must find it so hard to deal with sad people all the time. I would.
So, what's wrong?
Well, we've only got part of the information at this stage - the important part though, which is that it aint going to happen on its own kiddies - so he wants to see us, to explain it all, scientific-like, face to face. Facts, figures and options.
Endo, on it's own, wasn't expected to be an issue. Add in male factor issues, which in this instance are significant motility (movement) and morphology (appearance) abnormalities and you've got yourself a couple who have gone, in one phone call, from having about a 10%-15% chance of natural conception (based on lag-time actually getting pregnant), to having about a ...ohhhh ...around 0% chance. Somewhere under the 5% mark anyway. We completely suck. Mind you, at least we suck together. It's both of us. Bad luck.
We'll be back in the specialist's office on June 14 to have our treatment options laid out, and get the cold, hard medical data we need to make informed decisions about those treatment options, and our future. I know that I'll feel a lot better once I've sat in that office and got figures, seen blood results and all the rest of it. If you give me data, I'm ok. Data makes this a lot more about science and a lot less about my heart. Science I can do. Data, I do very well.
So, the battle continues, and we've kicked it up a notch, but we'll get there. I don't see myself with a baby ...it's been over 2 years, so I'm having trouble visualising an end to this ...but I don't see us growing old childless, and that's the carrot that we're trying to catch, which is dangling at the end of the stick.
Tuesday 22 May 2007
A new first for the list
Decaf coffee. And, aside from feeling a little ripped off, it wasn't so bad.
I know it's not exactly base-jumping off the Empire State Building ...but then, I suppose it depends on how objectionable you consider decaf coffee to be as to how impressed you are.
And on that note, I went out for dinner last night (on work - gotta love other people's expense accounts. I could have used my own, but I didn't want to be the one explaining the bill to the managing accountant at the end of the month ...there were a dozen of us, a lot of alcohol, breads, entrees, mains, desserts AND coffees ...all racked up at a rather pricey restaurant), and crawled into bed quite late, so my brain hasn't engaged enough to do a proper post.
I promise to give you a goodie tomorrow though - we got the results from the second battery of tests at Fertility Associates yesterday. Watch this space.
I know it's not exactly base-jumping off the Empire State Building ...but then, I suppose it depends on how objectionable you consider decaf coffee to be as to how impressed you are.
And on that note, I went out for dinner last night (on work - gotta love other people's expense accounts. I could have used my own, but I didn't want to be the one explaining the bill to the managing accountant at the end of the month ...there were a dozen of us, a lot of alcohol, breads, entrees, mains, desserts AND coffees ...all racked up at a rather pricey restaurant), and crawled into bed quite late, so my brain hasn't engaged enough to do a proper post.
I promise to give you a goodie tomorrow though - we got the results from the second battery of tests at Fertility Associates yesterday. Watch this space.
Monday 21 May 2007
It's Monday. Monday, Monday, Monday
And I have no post prepared. Nothing to say. Zip.
Normally, I'd at least have an idea up my sleeve for moments such as this, ready to blather to the masses (or, you know, all three of you my beloved readers) in a desperate pinch, but today? Nothing.
This grey, cold Monday morning, I have lost my groove.
Guess why?
Yesterday I went car shopping. It's enough to steal anyone's groove.
I hate car shopping. Despise it. Car shopping is a boy thing. I know, I know, it's a very anti-feminist thing to say, but seriously ...you have the choice between going shopping shopping, and going car shopping? What do you do? Exactly.
Why the car shopping though?
Here's the thing ... We're musing on whether we should get a bigger car (long term musing. Loooooong term. Post-IVF savings goal). We have a Subaru Legacy at the moment, which works well, but of course, we're thinking kids and dogs, and somewhere along the way we're going to run out of room.
We trudged around and looked at various large people-moverey type things (Honda Odyssey, Mitsi Chariot) and let me just say, blah, blah, blah. Unless we have a multiple birth (minimum of triplets) and we have to go that way, I'd like to avoid it. We've been spoiled with the Subie - it's such a great car. And safe. Very, very safe. It loves the road, and holds onto it good as you're zooming about (safely and obeying all speed restrictions).
We took an Isuzu Bighorn for a good drive (well, it is big!) ...Al got car sick and I was petrified I was going to whack into something. I drive a Polo for heavensake ...you try going from a Polo to a Bighorn, and see if you don't have an anxiety attack!. Al has a hate on for 4x4s anyway, so he was happy to wipe them out as an option.
I had a marvelous laugh when Al tried to jam himself in a Hyundai Sante Fe ...he ended up with his knees up around his ears (and that was with the seat back as far as it could go), and he was about an inch taller than the roof as well. Shame really, because I didn't mind the Sante Fe.
So, at the moment, it could come down to a Holden Commodore, a Ford whatever (both wagons), or a top box thingy for the Subaru (which would give us more room, and significantly less than a new car).
Not bad.
It's just that it cost me my groove for a Monday.
All complaints to management, and he who thinks that a marriage is about equal partnership and that I should be involved in new car decisions. Someone beam me back to the fifties would ya?
Normally, I'd at least have an idea up my sleeve for moments such as this, ready to blather to the masses (or, you know, all three of you my beloved readers) in a desperate pinch, but today? Nothing.
This grey, cold Monday morning, I have lost my groove.
Guess why?
Yesterday I went car shopping. It's enough to steal anyone's groove.
I hate car shopping. Despise it. Car shopping is a boy thing. I know, I know, it's a very anti-feminist thing to say, but seriously ...you have the choice between going shopping shopping, and going car shopping? What do you do? Exactly.
Why the car shopping though?
Here's the thing ... We're musing on whether we should get a bigger car (long term musing. Loooooong term. Post-IVF savings goal). We have a Subaru Legacy at the moment, which works well, but of course, we're thinking kids and dogs, and somewhere along the way we're going to run out of room.
We trudged around and looked at various large people-moverey type things (Honda Odyssey, Mitsi Chariot) and let me just say, blah, blah, blah. Unless we have a multiple birth (minimum of triplets) and we have to go that way, I'd like to avoid it. We've been spoiled with the Subie - it's such a great car. And safe. Very, very safe. It loves the road, and holds onto it good as you're zooming about (safely and obeying all speed restrictions).
We took an Isuzu Bighorn for a good drive (well, it is big!) ...Al got car sick and I was petrified I was going to whack into something. I drive a Polo for heavensake ...you try going from a Polo to a Bighorn, and see if you don't have an anxiety attack!. Al has a hate on for 4x4s anyway, so he was happy to wipe them out as an option.
I had a marvelous laugh when Al tried to jam himself in a Hyundai Sante Fe ...he ended up with his knees up around his ears (and that was with the seat back as far as it could go), and he was about an inch taller than the roof as well. Shame really, because I didn't mind the Sante Fe.
So, at the moment, it could come down to a Holden Commodore, a Ford whatever (both wagons), or a top box thingy for the Subaru (which would give us more room, and significantly less than a new car).
Not bad.
It's just that it cost me my groove for a Monday.
All complaints to management, and he who thinks that a marriage is about equal partnership and that I should be involved in new car decisions. Someone beam me back to the fifties would ya?
Friday 18 May 2007
Curse you taunting Elevit
I've had a box of Elevit (pre-natal vitamins, loaded with folic acid) sitting on my bench for a couple of months.
At the moment, I'm not taking them because, although I know I should be, supplements of any kind wreak havoc on my insides as a rule. Even the vicious concoction of disgustingness that a herbalist made up especially for me after my op last September, to help my 'womanly parts' find their equilibrium, ended up going down the sink. Not pretty.
Back to the Elevit though. I got to the end of my last cycle and thought to myself that there was little point in forcing the issue if nothing was happening in the pregnancy department. They cost a bomb and they make it known that they're floating around in my system in rather unpleasant ways. I will start taking them again, around 3 months before we start IVF - for IVF, I can put up with them. I'm going to be putting up with a lot worse than taking vitamins when the carpet rolls out for that one, that's for sure.
In the meantime though, I've been looking at that box of vitamins sitting on the bench and feeling the strangest thing. I've been trying to put my finger on it, and it finally came to me this morning as I sat glowering at them while eating my bagel (with cream cheese and strawberry preserve ... mmm) and enjoying my coffee (made by the husband, in case you're wondering. Since the woopsie over the inadvertant coffee-making-skill revelation, he's still made me more coffees than I've made him, so all is ok with the world for the moment).
I'm embarrassed. I'm embarrassed to see that box of vitamins sitting there, taunting me.
It's almost like that stupid box is saying to me "Why did you buy me again? Don't you realise that I'm a pre-natal and pregnancy suplement? I wish someone worthy had bought me instead so I could do something useful."
Which, yes, raises another issue entirely ...
I'm seeing talking boxes.
At the moment, I'm not taking them because, although I know I should be, supplements of any kind wreak havoc on my insides as a rule. Even the vicious concoction of disgustingness that a herbalist made up especially for me after my op last September, to help my 'womanly parts' find their equilibrium, ended up going down the sink. Not pretty.
Back to the Elevit though. I got to the end of my last cycle and thought to myself that there was little point in forcing the issue if nothing was happening in the pregnancy department. They cost a bomb and they make it known that they're floating around in my system in rather unpleasant ways. I will start taking them again, around 3 months before we start IVF - for IVF, I can put up with them. I'm going to be putting up with a lot worse than taking vitamins when the carpet rolls out for that one, that's for sure.
In the meantime though, I've been looking at that box of vitamins sitting on the bench and feeling the strangest thing. I've been trying to put my finger on it, and it finally came to me this morning as I sat glowering at them while eating my bagel (with cream cheese and strawberry preserve ... mmm) and enjoying my coffee (made by the husband, in case you're wondering. Since the woopsie over the inadvertant coffee-making-skill revelation, he's still made me more coffees than I've made him, so all is ok with the world for the moment).
I'm embarrassed. I'm embarrassed to see that box of vitamins sitting there, taunting me.
It's almost like that stupid box is saying to me "Why did you buy me again? Don't you realise that I'm a pre-natal and pregnancy suplement? I wish someone worthy had bought me instead so I could do something useful."
Which, yes, raises another issue entirely ...
I'm seeing talking boxes.
Thursday 17 May 2007
Who's the boss of you?
Two of my big bosses are in town this week, and it's wreaking havoc on my blogging.
Honestly, how's a girl supposed to blog with blimming bosses popping out from doorways left, right and centre and arriving here first thing in the morning? Plus, I have a book review to do, and I keep having to drop it (the book) off the side of my desk and into my handbag - my bag is blissfully cavernous, so one flick of the wrist and I'm almost guaranteed that the book will land in it. But, that's not the point. The point is that I'm not getting time to do my personal stuff at work. I'm having to do work stuff at work.
That reminds me ...funny story about the handbag ...Al and I were going to the movies a few weeks ago, and before we left, I noticed him eyeing my handbag speculatively.
Here's the handbag, by the way, so you can visualise it ...
http://www.moochi.co.nz/models.asp?MODEL_ID=24
Then he says to me ...
Him "Heeeyy ..."
Me (suspiciously) "What?"
Him "You could fit a beer in there, couldn't you?"
Me " Uhhh...yes ..."
Him "Probably two, eh?"
Me "...yeeesss ..."
Him "And some chips?"
Me "...yeeeessssss ..."
Him "Excellent" and goes and starts collecting things to load into my handbag for the movie.
Me "Sooo ...You're seeing the value of the handbag now, are you?"
Him (pretends he's too busy collecting beer to answer, and therefore commit himself to a potentially financially hazardous position on my shopping)
Me again "Just think, you wouldn't be able to do this with my old handbag. You'd have had to have a crappy movie coke/unidentifiable sugary/bubbly liquid once we got there and pay $10 for it AND there'd be none of this chips business either"
Him (still trying to pretend he's busy, and makes a move to try and put stuff in my handbag)
Me (zips the bag closed and glares at him until he acknowledges what a good purchase the handbag was)
Him, after a standoff "Yes" and starts loading up the handbag.
Honestly, going in to the movies, I felt a bit like one of those drug traffickers (how do you spell that?) who strap heroin to themselves to then try and catch an international flight. Sort of. At a stretch.
Anyway, back to my whinge (nothing like veering wildly off topic and then trying to recover, hmmm?)
I really do prefer it when they're (the bosses, remember how before the random handbag story we were talking about my bosses?) back in the South Island, where they belong. Or at least just away from here. Far, far away.
This move (to Papakura) is doing my head in. It's an immensely bad idea and they know it's a bad idea, but they're forging on regardless for no sensible reason other than cutting off their noses because they don't want to back down, and they really don't want us (the Auckland branch) to be right. In fact, one of the bosses actually used the term 'hostile witnesses' at us the other day when we were trying to have a reasonable discussion about it all. I thought one of my reps was going to throw him through the window, I really did.
I started doing a list of reasons here why the move is such a bad bad thing (things in addition to the pro/con list I did a few weeks ago), but there are so many, I'd be here all day. We have no time frame, no information, customers screaming the place down, not to mention that staff members are quitting, and bearing in mind that there were only 5 of us to start with ...
It really is such a lot of fun.
The one and only (that I can see at this stage) positive thing that is coming from this, is that I am actually gaining an insight into the stress Al has been under the last couple of years at Air New Zealand with the staffing and morale issues, and the frustration of dealing with management who have their own agenda.
One more day till Friday. Phew.
Honestly, how's a girl supposed to blog with blimming bosses popping out from doorways left, right and centre and arriving here first thing in the morning? Plus, I have a book review to do, and I keep having to drop it (the book) off the side of my desk and into my handbag - my bag is blissfully cavernous, so one flick of the wrist and I'm almost guaranteed that the book will land in it. But, that's not the point. The point is that I'm not getting time to do my personal stuff at work. I'm having to do work stuff at work.
That reminds me ...funny story about the handbag ...Al and I were going to the movies a few weeks ago, and before we left, I noticed him eyeing my handbag speculatively.
Here's the handbag, by the way, so you can visualise it ...
http://www.moochi.co.nz/models.asp?MODEL_ID=24
Then he says to me ...
Him "Heeeyy ..."
Me (suspiciously) "What?"
Him "You could fit a beer in there, couldn't you?"
Me " Uhhh...yes ..."
Him "Probably two, eh?"
Me "...yeeesss ..."
Him "And some chips?"
Me "...yeeeessssss ..."
Him "Excellent" and goes and starts collecting things to load into my handbag for the movie.
Me "Sooo ...You're seeing the value of the handbag now, are you?"
Him (pretends he's too busy collecting beer to answer, and therefore commit himself to a potentially financially hazardous position on my shopping)
Me again "Just think, you wouldn't be able to do this with my old handbag. You'd have had to have a crappy movie coke/unidentifiable sugary/bubbly liquid once we got there and pay $10 for it AND there'd be none of this chips business either"
Him (still trying to pretend he's busy, and makes a move to try and put stuff in my handbag)
Me (zips the bag closed and glares at him until he acknowledges what a good purchase the handbag was)
Him, after a standoff "Yes" and starts loading up the handbag.
Honestly, going in to the movies, I felt a bit like one of those drug traffickers (how do you spell that?) who strap heroin to themselves to then try and catch an international flight. Sort of. At a stretch.
Anyway, back to my whinge (nothing like veering wildly off topic and then trying to recover, hmmm?)
I really do prefer it when they're (the bosses, remember how before the random handbag story we were talking about my bosses?) back in the South Island, where they belong. Or at least just away from here. Far, far away.
This move (to Papakura) is doing my head in. It's an immensely bad idea and they know it's a bad idea, but they're forging on regardless for no sensible reason other than cutting off their noses because they don't want to back down, and they really don't want us (the Auckland branch) to be right. In fact, one of the bosses actually used the term 'hostile witnesses' at us the other day when we were trying to have a reasonable discussion about it all. I thought one of my reps was going to throw him through the window, I really did.
I started doing a list of reasons here why the move is such a bad bad thing (things in addition to the pro/con list I did a few weeks ago), but there are so many, I'd be here all day. We have no time frame, no information, customers screaming the place down, not to mention that staff members are quitting, and bearing in mind that there were only 5 of us to start with ...
It really is such a lot of fun.
The one and only (that I can see at this stage) positive thing that is coming from this, is that I am actually gaining an insight into the stress Al has been under the last couple of years at Air New Zealand with the staffing and morale issues, and the frustration of dealing with management who have their own agenda.
One more day till Friday. Phew.
Wednesday 16 May 2007
All about undies
During the weekend I cleaned out my undie/PJ/sock drawers which got me thinking about undies. Do you have that problem where finding great undies is ridiculously hard? I despair of finding the perfect pair of undies, I really do. I don't think they exist.
Actually, that's not quite true. They do exist, because I've owned them, but to find them again? Impossible. No, seriously. I mean literally impossible. The ones I had were Italian, and I even googled and emailed the Italian makers to see if I could buy them and have them shipped internationally! (Obsessive, I know. But then, you should see how many times I check and recheck my alarm clock at night, not to mention making sure all the windows and doors are locked before I go to bed. OCD*? I think so.)
So, I am on a quest for the perfect pair of undies.
The thing is I don't like lace, and I don't like satin, and I don't like high cut, and a matching set of bras and undies is one of those things that happens by accident in my world. Funny, I suppose, considering the care and attention that goes into my outerwear.
The thing that really knots my fur is that if you find a great pair of undies, more often than not the bra doesn't suit you, and if you find a great bra, the undies don't work, or you only get briefs in the set, and I don't really do briefs, I'm more of a 'g' girl. (I figure that if your undies are going to bunch up there anyway (and they will. They always do. If nothing else, there's nothing worse than taking the dogs for a walk, and wrestling with undie-bunch the whole way), they may as well start there and be done with it)
Finding the perfect pair of undies is a bit like finding the perfect pair of jeans. Damn near impossible. But, if you do manage to find them, it raises the bar and seriously adds to the degree of difficulty when out shopping for replacements.
Still, I acquired a set (I know! Not just undies! A set!!) at the weekend which looks promising. If it works out, I'm going to nominate Calvin Klein for a medal.
* Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
Actually, that's not quite true. They do exist, because I've owned them, but to find them again? Impossible. No, seriously. I mean literally impossible. The ones I had were Italian, and I even googled and emailed the Italian makers to see if I could buy them and have them shipped internationally! (Obsessive, I know. But then, you should see how many times I check and recheck my alarm clock at night, not to mention making sure all the windows and doors are locked before I go to bed. OCD*? I think so.)
So, I am on a quest for the perfect pair of undies.
The thing is I don't like lace, and I don't like satin, and I don't like high cut, and a matching set of bras and undies is one of those things that happens by accident in my world. Funny, I suppose, considering the care and attention that goes into my outerwear.
The thing that really knots my fur is that if you find a great pair of undies, more often than not the bra doesn't suit you, and if you find a great bra, the undies don't work, or you only get briefs in the set, and I don't really do briefs, I'm more of a 'g' girl. (I figure that if your undies are going to bunch up there anyway (and they will. They always do. If nothing else, there's nothing worse than taking the dogs for a walk, and wrestling with undie-bunch the whole way), they may as well start there and be done with it)
Finding the perfect pair of undies is a bit like finding the perfect pair of jeans. Damn near impossible. But, if you do manage to find them, it raises the bar and seriously adds to the degree of difficulty when out shopping for replacements.
Still, I acquired a set (I know! Not just undies! A set!!) at the weekend which looks promising. If it works out, I'm going to nominate Calvin Klein for a medal.
* Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
Tuesday 15 May 2007
You know what I forgot to do yesterday, eh?
I remembered after I got a phone call of the 'Oh, really?' variety from the husband, juuust before a friend emailed me and reminded me to take the post down.
Oops.
In retrospect, I'm not sure why I relied on my memory to start with. I have a terrible memory, and it was bound to happen. You should see my office - there're post-its all over the place reminding me to do things. Lists and post-its. My office vaguely resembles that of Russell Crowe's character in Beautiful Mind come to think of it.
I could probably have passed the coffee post off to the husband as artistic licence or creative journalism, or whatever the equivalent thing is for making stuff up on blogs for the entertainment of the masses, except ol' genius over here attached photographic evidence, didn't she?
Sooo, guess who made the coffee last night at home?
I did quite well too.
Oops.
In retrospect, I'm not sure why I relied on my memory to start with. I have a terrible memory, and it was bound to happen. You should see my office - there're post-its all over the place reminding me to do things. Lists and post-its. My office vaguely resembles that of Russell Crowe's character in Beautiful Mind come to think of it.
I could probably have passed the coffee post off to the husband as artistic licence or creative journalism, or whatever the equivalent thing is for making stuff up on blogs for the entertainment of the masses, except ol' genius over here attached photographic evidence, didn't she?
Sooo, guess who made the coffee last night at home?
I did quite well too.
Monday 14 May 2007
By George! I've done it!
Yes, I know I said 'By George!'. I'm embarrassed, of course I am, but my mother reads this, so I couldn't exactly say 'Holy Shit!' now, could I? She'd have killed me. Anyway, what ridiculously historic expressions of whatever that I choose to use in place of swear words is not the point. The point is, what have I done? Focus people.
As you know, Al and I have an espresso machine. And, if you didn't, you do now. We've had the machine for about two or three years, during the course of which have made a dedicated effort to avoid learning how to use it. Turning a hot chocolate out is one thing, I can (but choose not to) do that, but a drinkable coffee is quite another. Al gave me a wee lesson a few months ago, which took an hour of our lives that we'll never get back, and resulted in a cold cup of disgustingness which had once upon a time been perfectly good coffee beans, and perfectly drinkable milk. One hesitates to call it a coffee. The only reason we knew it was, was that we saw how it started.
Since the above failed mission (I swear I didn't sabotage it on purpose ...much), my learning to use the coffee machine has never been spoken of again, and coffees and hot chocolates alike have presented themselves at request on most occasions.
But, the problem here is that Al has to be around to make it. During the weekends, he's usually asleep until mid afternoon, and when my work moves to Papakura, he's going to be in bed and snoring in the mornings well before Elvis leaves the building.
So, what's a Ginger to do? I'll tell ya, but for heavens sake, don't tell him.
While his nibs was sleeping this weekend, I was teaching myself how to use the espresso machine. This way I can make and enjoy my coffees on Saturday and Sunday mornings, and drop a caffeine load before I go to work in the mornings, and he need never have to know about it. I'll just have to keep a sly bag of coffee beans somewhere that he doesn't look (he's scared of my handbag, so that could work) and top the beans up each time I use them (eventually he'll notice we're going through them quicker than usual).
Why the secrecy? Think about it. Is he going to keep making me coffees and hot chocolates every time I ask if he knows I can do it myself? Uh, no.
The pic below was my first little experiment, which was actually not too bad. A bit frothy, but still not too bad. Experiments two and three were a bit ho hum/revolting/poisonous, but experiment five was really good. Experiment six never happened because I made experiments one to five all in a row and I drank them too, so I had the shakes too bad to make another. The only real problem I encountered was later in the day when Al's suspicions were aroused after we'd walked the dogs in record time ...but since I'd also eaten a bag of Allen's fruit bats, I blamed the sugar. He of course gave me that cross-eyed 'she's lying and she knows I know she's lying but I can't be arsed digging the truth out of her' look of his which he gives me when I've been shopping and I've told him it cost about half of what it did.
So, success on the coffee front, we just won't tell the husband about it. It can be our little secret.
And on that note, this blog post will self-destruct (with a little help from moi and the delete button) at approximately 2pm, before his nibs stumbles out of bed.
As you know, Al and I have an espresso machine. And, if you didn't, you do now. We've had the machine for about two or three years, during the course of which have made a dedicated effort to avoid learning how to use it. Turning a hot chocolate out is one thing, I can (but choose not to) do that, but a drinkable coffee is quite another. Al gave me a wee lesson a few months ago, which took an hour of our lives that we'll never get back, and resulted in a cold cup of disgustingness which had once upon a time been perfectly good coffee beans, and perfectly drinkable milk. One hesitates to call it a coffee. The only reason we knew it was, was that we saw how it started.
Since the above failed mission (I swear I didn't sabotage it on purpose ...much), my learning to use the coffee machine has never been spoken of again, and coffees and hot chocolates alike have presented themselves at request on most occasions.
But, the problem here is that Al has to be around to make it. During the weekends, he's usually asleep until mid afternoon, and when my work moves to Papakura, he's going to be in bed and snoring in the mornings well before Elvis leaves the building.
So, what's a Ginger to do? I'll tell ya, but for heavens sake, don't tell him.
While his nibs was sleeping this weekend, I was teaching myself how to use the espresso machine. This way I can make and enjoy my coffees on Saturday and Sunday mornings, and drop a caffeine load before I go to work in the mornings, and he need never have to know about it. I'll just have to keep a sly bag of coffee beans somewhere that he doesn't look (he's scared of my handbag, so that could work) and top the beans up each time I use them (eventually he'll notice we're going through them quicker than usual).
Why the secrecy? Think about it. Is he going to keep making me coffees and hot chocolates every time I ask if he knows I can do it myself? Uh, no.
The pic below was my first little experiment, which was actually not too bad. A bit frothy, but still not too bad. Experiments two and three were a bit ho hum/revolting/poisonous, but experiment five was really good. Experiment six never happened because I made experiments one to five all in a row and I drank them too, so I had the shakes too bad to make another. The only real problem I encountered was later in the day when Al's suspicions were aroused after we'd walked the dogs in record time ...but since I'd also eaten a bag of Allen's fruit bats, I blamed the sugar. He of course gave me that cross-eyed 'she's lying and she knows I know she's lying but I can't be arsed digging the truth out of her' look of his which he gives me when I've been shopping and I've told him it cost about half of what it did.
So, success on the coffee front, we just won't tell the husband about it. It can be our little secret.
And on that note, this blog post will self-destruct (with a little help from moi and the delete button) at approximately 2pm, before his nibs stumbles out of bed.
Friday 11 May 2007
I've been doing a lot of jiggling
It sounds dodgier than it is, trust me.
I was horrified to learn that one of the things that FA* recommends, in general, but especially while going through IVF cycles, is drinking 3 litres of water a day. 3!! That's a lot of water.
I'm a terrible drinker, I really am (and I don't mean that in the alcoholics anonymous sense of the word either). I try, I do, but I never drink enough. I have a 400ml bottle of water which sits by my desk at work, or goes in my handbag if I'm out and about, but often (and by 'often' I mean 'usually') I only go through it twice a day.
I was going through a really good patch for a few months where I was sinking my 8 glasses religiously because supposedly it helps with trying to conceive** (the footnote is to spare my boy readers - this way, even though they'll look, they can't blame me for getting more information than they bargained on. They were duly warned) but did about as much good in the conception department as spending loads of money.
Over and above straight water, I do have my morning coffee or cup of tea (only one a day though as a rule), but since coffee is my favoured beverage most days, and it's a diuretic, it doesn't really count. I do like tea and have that occasionally, and it's better because you do achieve a net gain in water from tea (I read that in a Wilderness mag last month or the month before), which means that I probably should switch to tea. Except I'm not going to. Weeellll, I might say try and have tea three times a week and coffee two (in the mornings) because over all it is better, but I'm not doing it until my work moves and I'm not going past Luscious on my way to work anymore. And, of course, if those cups of tea and coffee might be the finger-on-the-flush-button when it comes to tipping $8,000.00 down the loo after a failed IVF cycle, I say bring on the water!
I also have a drink of something else during the day like a Bundaberg Peachee (loaded with sugar, but oh ohhhhh so nice), or an OJ, and fruit and veges and sauces etc have a water content which will helps ...
OK! Ok, Ok, OK ...I'm scratching going for the fruit and veges thing. Duly acknowledged.
The point is that I don't drink enough, and I certainly don't drink enough as per the FA recommendations, and I want to follow their recommendations to the letter for IVF. We really want this to work.
So, as part of the whole planning IVF thing I've been trying to get my water intake up, and so far I've made it up to about 4 (400ml)bottles of water a day (except for yesterday, where I made a dismal effort), plus a couple of other different types of drinks. So I just need to double that intake (!!!) and maintain it and I'm away sailing.
The thing is, it's all very well drinking lots of water, and I know it's good for you and everything but I need to wee all the time. I'm not exaggerating. All the time. It's not so bad if I don't have my cup of coffee in the morning, but once you have that cup of coffee it's all over. It's a bit like breaking the seal if you've had a night on the turps (which, for the record, I never ever have. It's just what I've heard. I promise Mum. Cross my heart!). I swear, if anyone even so much as leaves a tap going for 5 seconds I'm off. I have to stick my fingers in my ears if I fill the jug, or run a sink of water to do dishes. I seem to spend half my day jiggling in my seat with my legs crossed five times, or dancing around on the spot thinking un-puddle-like thoughts.
The other thing is that a standard glass of water is 200ml, right?*** So the recommended 8 glasses a day is only 1600ml. You occasionally hear about 2 litres instead of 8 glasses, which still isn't too bad ...it's only an extra 2 glasses ('only' says me that is crap at drinking), but 3 litres? That's 15 glasses! That seems like an awful lot of water. And if I'm drinking that much water, won't I start washing away some of the good crap as well as the bad crap?
I guess I could just stop complaining about it and get on with it ...but where's the fun in that?
*Fertility Associates
** Among other things, increasing your water intake helps your body make lots of cervical mucus, which is what helps carry the swimmers up the you-know post-funny-business to where they need to be going.
*** I'm basing this on the pre-op instructions I got before my endo surgery. They said something along the lines of x glasses of water and a standard glass equalling 200ml. Good enough for me.
I was horrified to learn that one of the things that FA* recommends, in general, but especially while going through IVF cycles, is drinking 3 litres of water a day. 3!! That's a lot of water.
I'm a terrible drinker, I really am (and I don't mean that in the alcoholics anonymous sense of the word either). I try, I do, but I never drink enough. I have a 400ml bottle of water which sits by my desk at work, or goes in my handbag if I'm out and about, but often (and by 'often' I mean 'usually') I only go through it twice a day.
I was going through a really good patch for a few months where I was sinking my 8 glasses religiously because supposedly it helps with trying to conceive** (the footnote is to spare my boy readers - this way, even though they'll look, they can't blame me for getting more information than they bargained on. They were duly warned) but did about as much good in the conception department as spending loads of money.
Over and above straight water, I do have my morning coffee or cup of tea (only one a day though as a rule), but since coffee is my favoured beverage most days, and it's a diuretic, it doesn't really count. I do like tea and have that occasionally, and it's better because you do achieve a net gain in water from tea (I read that in a Wilderness mag last month or the month before), which means that I probably should switch to tea. Except I'm not going to. Weeellll, I might say try and have tea three times a week and coffee two (in the mornings) because over all it is better, but I'm not doing it until my work moves and I'm not going past Luscious on my way to work anymore. And, of course, if those cups of tea and coffee might be the finger-on-the-flush-button when it comes to tipping $8,000.00 down the loo after a failed IVF cycle, I say bring on the water!
I also have a drink of something else during the day like a Bundaberg Peachee (loaded with sugar, but oh ohhhhh so nice), or an OJ, and fruit and veges and sauces etc have a water content which will helps ...
OK! Ok, Ok, OK ...I'm scratching going for the fruit and veges thing. Duly acknowledged.
The point is that I don't drink enough, and I certainly don't drink enough as per the FA recommendations, and I want to follow their recommendations to the letter for IVF. We really want this to work.
So, as part of the whole planning IVF thing I've been trying to get my water intake up, and so far I've made it up to about 4 (400ml)bottles of water a day (except for yesterday, where I made a dismal effort), plus a couple of other different types of drinks. So I just need to double that intake (!!!) and maintain it and I'm away sailing.
The thing is, it's all very well drinking lots of water, and I know it's good for you and everything but I need to wee all the time. I'm not exaggerating. All the time. It's not so bad if I don't have my cup of coffee in the morning, but once you have that cup of coffee it's all over. It's a bit like breaking the seal if you've had a night on the turps (which, for the record, I never ever have. It's just what I've heard. I promise Mum. Cross my heart!). I swear, if anyone even so much as leaves a tap going for 5 seconds I'm off. I have to stick my fingers in my ears if I fill the jug, or run a sink of water to do dishes. I seem to spend half my day jiggling in my seat with my legs crossed five times, or dancing around on the spot thinking un-puddle-like thoughts.
The other thing is that a standard glass of water is 200ml, right?*** So the recommended 8 glasses a day is only 1600ml. You occasionally hear about 2 litres instead of 8 glasses, which still isn't too bad ...it's only an extra 2 glasses ('only' says me that is crap at drinking), but 3 litres? That's 15 glasses! That seems like an awful lot of water. And if I'm drinking that much water, won't I start washing away some of the good crap as well as the bad crap?
I guess I could just stop complaining about it and get on with it ...but where's the fun in that?
*Fertility Associates
** Among other things, increasing your water intake helps your body make lots of cervical mucus, which is what helps carry the swimmers up the you-know post-funny-business to where they need to be going.
*** I'm basing this on the pre-op instructions I got before my endo surgery. They said something along the lines of x glasses of water and a standard glass equalling 200ml. Good enough for me.
Thursday 10 May 2007
Because I can, and because they're so lovable
Why I will not throw sticks for them in the park ...this is their idea of a 'stick' ... (they pulled this out of the bush and between the two of them, carried it through the park and dragged it down to the stream. Other dog walkers we regularly meet say they always know we've been in the park by the random tree trunks left lying about!)
(I promise that no Border Collies were harmed in the making of this photo. The paint washed out. Eventually.)
Jess hiding. Probably as a result of incidents such as the painting one.
Puppies hanging out, being pals.
Caught! Red handed and brown pawed! Proof that the husband has gone completely soft (puppies are not allowed on couches)
And, if that wasn't enough, further proof that the husband has gone soft ...
Before the husband goes to work at night, he makes himself a coffee, me a hot chocolate and the dogs a fluffy!! (Puppies waiting to be released so they can have their fluffies (over their left-over bickies - yuck!) )
All three babies sharing the fire last winter (disgusting carpet eh?).
The husband decided to make Jess a 'proper' Border Collie and painted her a white stripe while we were doing the bathroom.
(I promise that no Border Collies were harmed in the making of this photo. The paint washed out. Eventually.)
Jess hiding. Probably as a result of incidents such as the painting one.
Puppies hanging out, being pals.
Wednesday 9 May 2007
IVF
After careful thought, Al and I have decided to go ahead with IVF as soon as possible.
This is not to say that we'll be doing it next month - it is, afterall, going to cost $8,000.00 smackeroos, and between you, me, a new bathroom, and a broken down car, we need to save the $8,000.00 smackeroos. But this year, we hope, we will do a cycle.
We've actually set a date, but we're we're keeping that to ourselves for now. We do promise to let you in when it gets down to the wire though.
Yes, we were going to wait a year, but that decision was based on certain things. My endo, for example, not raising it's head again. At the time I saw Dr G, I was symptom free. Now, just a short while later (2 months), I am back to living with most of the symptoms I had pre-op. If nothing else, it's hard trying to make babies when you're in pain. Plus, although Dr G said that he didn't believe my endo was an issue, he also admitted that they really don't know how it affects fertility.
Another thing is that by the end of the year it will have been a further 9 months since we saw Dr G anyway, and about 32/33 months trying to conceive ...and if we're not pregnant by then, I think waiting another 3 months or whatever to run an IVF cycle would just be humouring ourselves anyway.
Waiting that year was always going to depend on how we felt about waiting as the year progressed anyway. We agreed that at any time either of us wanted to pull the plug on the wait, the plug would be pulled, and as it happens, we both reached for it at the same time.
Besides, if everything had gone as we had planned in the first place, we would have celebrated our first child's first birthday in March and we wouldn't be having this conversation. First and foremost, plans are a guide. That's all. So, we're changing ours.
This is not to say that we'll be doing it next month - it is, afterall, going to cost $8,000.00 smackeroos, and between you, me, a new bathroom, and a broken down car, we need to save the $8,000.00 smackeroos. But this year, we hope, we will do a cycle.
We've actually set a date, but we're we're keeping that to ourselves for now. We do promise to let you in when it gets down to the wire though.
Yes, we were going to wait a year, but that decision was based on certain things. My endo, for example, not raising it's head again. At the time I saw Dr G, I was symptom free. Now, just a short while later (2 months), I am back to living with most of the symptoms I had pre-op. If nothing else, it's hard trying to make babies when you're in pain. Plus, although Dr G said that he didn't believe my endo was an issue, he also admitted that they really don't know how it affects fertility.
Another thing is that by the end of the year it will have been a further 9 months since we saw Dr G anyway, and about 32/33 months trying to conceive ...and if we're not pregnant by then, I think waiting another 3 months or whatever to run an IVF cycle would just be humouring ourselves anyway.
Waiting that year was always going to depend on how we felt about waiting as the year progressed anyway. We agreed that at any time either of us wanted to pull the plug on the wait, the plug would be pulled, and as it happens, we both reached for it at the same time.
Besides, if everything had gone as we had planned in the first place, we would have celebrated our first child's first birthday in March and we wouldn't be having this conversation. First and foremost, plans are a guide. That's all. So, we're changing ours.
Tuesday 8 May 2007
Ye gads
I just printed out my blog.
The entire thing, from day one.
Why? Because I like hard copies of things. Plus, what if Blogger crashes and I lose the lot? And, there's the book thing. The hard copy will make it easier to write. Not to mention those I know and love who don't do the internet (yes, I know. Sad but true.)
The thing is, I didn't expect quite so much paper ...
Lucky I'm at work and it's not my poor little printer at home that I just knackered.
The entire thing, from day one.
Why? Because I like hard copies of things. Plus, what if Blogger crashes and I lose the lot? And, there's the book thing. The hard copy will make it easier to write. Not to mention those I know and love who don't do the internet (yes, I know. Sad but true.)
The thing is, I didn't expect quite so much paper ...
Lucky I'm at work and it's not my poor little printer at home that I just knackered.
What do you know?
It turns out that spending loads of money doesn't help you get pregnant. Who knew? Yes, I am being sarcastic, and yes, I know it was me who threw the dice in that direction last month.
Perhaps what let the side down was not booking a really expensive overseas holiday, or buying a new house, but you've got to be a bit reasonable about these things. When the car threw its toys out of the cot, it almost cost the same as a new house anyway.
In light of that, sort of ...the following conversation was had between me and Al the other night, yelled between the bathroom (I was in the shower) and the kitchen (Al was making a coffee), after the FA seminar ...
Me "Heeeyyyy!!"
Him (Silence. He thinks that if he ignores me when I'm yelling at him from the other end of the house, I'll get bored and give up)
Me "Oiiii!!"
Me "Hellooooo?!"
Him "What?"
(I always wear him down eventually)
Me "You know how IVF is going to cost $8,000.00?"
Him "Yes"
Me "Well, that means that the car actually cost almost half an IVF cycle, not just a third of one."
Him "I bet that makes you feel better"
Me "Yip."
On the plus side, not getting pregnant helps you recoup your losses on the loads of money you spent getting the car fixed.
Perhaps what let the side down was not booking a really expensive overseas holiday, or buying a new house, but you've got to be a bit reasonable about these things. When the car threw its toys out of the cot, it almost cost the same as a new house anyway.
In light of that, sort of ...the following conversation was had between me and Al the other night, yelled between the bathroom (I was in the shower) and the kitchen (Al was making a coffee), after the FA seminar ...
Me "Heeeyyyy!!"
Him (Silence. He thinks that if he ignores me when I'm yelling at him from the other end of the house, I'll get bored and give up)
Me "Oiiii!!"
Me "Hellooooo?!"
Him "What?"
(I always wear him down eventually)
Me "You know how IVF is going to cost $8,000.00?"
Him "Yes"
Me "Well, that means that the car actually cost almost half an IVF cycle, not just a third of one."
Him "I bet that makes you feel better"
Me "Yip."
On the plus side, not getting pregnant helps you recoup your losses on the loads of money you spent getting the car fixed.
Monday 7 May 2007
Would someone give the guy a cigar?
Does anyone else feel like shaking the hand of the Judge who sentenced Paris Hilton to jail for 45 days?
The Hilton's Attorney isn't so happy though. He's "...shocked ...surprised and really disheartened ". Apparently the Judge's decision was "uncalled for, inappropriate and bordered on the ludicrous." Probably because his big fat fee for getting Paris off with a wee slap on the wrist isn't going to be forthcoming, and he probably won't be working for them again.
The Attorney claims that Paris has been "singled out because of who she is."
OR maybe, just maybe, it's because ... She. Broke. The. Law. Several times. You know, at a stretch.
Paris' mother thinks it's "pathetic and disgusting ...a joke." Sort of like her daughter's behaviour, I guess.
She got done for reckless driving after being nabbed driving while intoxicated.
She was sentenced to 36 months probation an alcohol education program, as well as being fined.
She didn't complete the alcohol education.
She also got nabbed a further two times driving on a suspended licence, on one occasion speeding with headlights off.
She then thumbed her nose at the Court by turning up late to the hearing. What did she think was going to happen?
What the Hiltons assumed would happen was that their money and power, and a few fake tears from Paris, would see her exempt from penalty.
What actually happened was that the Judge held her accountable for her actions.
Oops.
The Hilton's Attorney isn't so happy though. He's "...shocked ...surprised and really disheartened ". Apparently the Judge's decision was "uncalled for, inappropriate and bordered on the ludicrous." Probably because his big fat fee for getting Paris off with a wee slap on the wrist isn't going to be forthcoming, and he probably won't be working for them again.
The Attorney claims that Paris has been "singled out because of who she is."
OR maybe, just maybe, it's because ... She. Broke. The. Law. Several times. You know, at a stretch.
Paris' mother thinks it's "pathetic and disgusting ...a joke." Sort of like her daughter's behaviour, I guess.
She got done for reckless driving after being nabbed driving while intoxicated.
She was sentenced to 36 months probation an alcohol education program, as well as being fined.
She didn't complete the alcohol education.
She also got nabbed a further two times driving on a suspended licence, on one occasion speeding with headlights off.
She then thumbed her nose at the Court by turning up late to the hearing. What did she think was going to happen?
What the Hiltons assumed would happen was that their money and power, and a few fake tears from Paris, would see her exempt from penalty.
What actually happened was that the Judge held her accountable for her actions.
Oops.
Friday 4 May 2007
The Redcoats are coming! The Redcoats are coming!
Well, perhaps not the Redcoats, but certainly winter.
It's getting colder, especially in the mornings and at night, the days are getting shorter and darker, and there seems to be quite a bit of rain about (not to mention the fog this morning ...I could hardly see the car in front of me on the motorway!).
Winter is my favourite time of year. I like autumn, but winter wins hands-down. I'm a redhead, so I was bred for winter anyway. I hate the heat, so summer is last on the list. Obviously I'd prefer winter without the rain and wind, but you have to take the good with the bad.
There are definite disadvantages to winter, of course.
For a start, we have two inside dogs. Mess. Mess. Mess. Enough said. I feel really bad leaving them in their kennels during the day too (even though it's only half the day really) when the weather really turns. I don't know why I worry though ...the other day (when it'd been bucketing down for a good couple of days) I came home from work to find Jess curled up in a big puddle by the gate, snoozing in the pouring rain, waiting for me as she normally does, looking as happy as you like! Jack, more sensibly, was sitting on the porch, under cover, hopping about, wondering how to get to the gate without getting his paws wet. Not that there is ever an issue when you wave a lead under his nose. Hell no!
Getting washing dry is a trial. I hate using the dryer because it's vicious on the power bill for a start, and I have this thing about the washing drying in the fresh air. But, it's not impossible to dry stuff outside in winter, it just takes longer ...plus my clothes fit on the inside line, and Al couldn't care less about how his clothes get dry, so there you go. We'll probably turn the spa off in the middle of winter too, so that evens things out.
Frizzy rained-on hair always drives me nuts, but I'm trying something new this year. Usually, come winter, I have no idea why, I chop my hair off short. This makes it prone to extra frizziness, and unbelievably hard to style. This year however, I have resisted the urge to chop, and I have a plan which involves a ponytail.
And now, the things I'm looking forward to ...the good, the great and the better when it comes to winter.
Fingerless gloves. I loooove fingerless gloves.
And scarves.
And woolly tights.
And layers and layers of clothes.
Cosy.
Walking the dogs. Our monsters get walked every single day, usually for around an hour and a half to two hours, sometimes twice a day (Al might take them out when he wakes up, and then we go out again when I get home), and it doesn't stop for winter. We just load on the wet-weather gear, and off we go. Good boots, good layers, good waterproofing, it makes all the difference. Walking through the park in the pouring rain is so peaceful, and it's beautiful too ...the colours are so much brighter when it's raining. Plus, it gets darker earlier, so the dogs have an absolute ball hunting out and chasing rabbits, possums and mice etc (they don't catch them ...they seem to think that rabbits, possums and mice are just self-propelled toys. Much more fun to just chase).
The other advantage is that summer dog walkers abandon the park for the season. Yay! Summer dog walkers get under my skin mostly because during summer, the amount of dog poo left in the park (ergo, owners haven't picked up after their dogs) is staggering, and it almost stops during winter. Yes, less people walk, so it cuts down on it to start with, but you see the line that I'm drawing here, don't you? People who don't bother picking up poo seem to be the same sorts of people who seem to think that they're dogs don't need exercise and stimulation during the unpleasant seasons because it's not good for them (the owners). Possibly some of you will consider that an unnecessarily cutting observation, but it is what it is.
Cold winter nights with the fire going are gorgeous, and it's so cute seeing our 3 animals trying to find an arrangement that suits them for sharing the fire. Plus, sitting on the couch, under a blanket watching TV or reading a book or whatever with the fire going and a hot chocolate in hand is sooo nice. Or, you know, sitting amongst the animals, vying for my spot on the floor in front of the fire.
Of course, with the new work location, there will be no lovely hot Luscious coffee on the way to work in the mornings, but if I learn to make it myself, then I can take a travel mug PLUS as a relatively unrelated side point, I won't end up sitting in traffic for hours and hours because I won't be going on the motorway. Tra la la! Ever noticed how so many Aucklanders seem to forget not only where their accelerator is, but also how to drive, when it's raining?
One of the best things about winter though? Stews and soups and fresh crusty bread. All homemade. Yum. It's no wonder people put on weight in winter. The food is so good! Plus, the extra insulation keeps you warm. Bonus!
There's more of course, but since you're probably asleep by now, I'll leave it there.
It's getting colder, especially in the mornings and at night, the days are getting shorter and darker, and there seems to be quite a bit of rain about (not to mention the fog this morning ...I could hardly see the car in front of me on the motorway!).
Winter is my favourite time of year. I like autumn, but winter wins hands-down. I'm a redhead, so I was bred for winter anyway. I hate the heat, so summer is last on the list. Obviously I'd prefer winter without the rain and wind, but you have to take the good with the bad.
There are definite disadvantages to winter, of course.
For a start, we have two inside dogs. Mess. Mess. Mess. Enough said. I feel really bad leaving them in their kennels during the day too (even though it's only half the day really) when the weather really turns. I don't know why I worry though ...the other day (when it'd been bucketing down for a good couple of days) I came home from work to find Jess curled up in a big puddle by the gate, snoozing in the pouring rain, waiting for me as she normally does, looking as happy as you like! Jack, more sensibly, was sitting on the porch, under cover, hopping about, wondering how to get to the gate without getting his paws wet. Not that there is ever an issue when you wave a lead under his nose. Hell no!
Getting washing dry is a trial. I hate using the dryer because it's vicious on the power bill for a start, and I have this thing about the washing drying in the fresh air. But, it's not impossible to dry stuff outside in winter, it just takes longer ...plus my clothes fit on the inside line, and Al couldn't care less about how his clothes get dry, so there you go. We'll probably turn the spa off in the middle of winter too, so that evens things out.
Frizzy rained-on hair always drives me nuts, but I'm trying something new this year. Usually, come winter, I have no idea why, I chop my hair off short. This makes it prone to extra frizziness, and unbelievably hard to style. This year however, I have resisted the urge to chop, and I have a plan which involves a ponytail.
And now, the things I'm looking forward to ...the good, the great and the better when it comes to winter.
Fingerless gloves. I loooove fingerless gloves.
And scarves.
And woolly tights.
And layers and layers of clothes.
Cosy.
Walking the dogs. Our monsters get walked every single day, usually for around an hour and a half to two hours, sometimes twice a day (Al might take them out when he wakes up, and then we go out again when I get home), and it doesn't stop for winter. We just load on the wet-weather gear, and off we go. Good boots, good layers, good waterproofing, it makes all the difference. Walking through the park in the pouring rain is so peaceful, and it's beautiful too ...the colours are so much brighter when it's raining. Plus, it gets darker earlier, so the dogs have an absolute ball hunting out and chasing rabbits, possums and mice etc (they don't catch them ...they seem to think that rabbits, possums and mice are just self-propelled toys. Much more fun to just chase).
The other advantage is that summer dog walkers abandon the park for the season. Yay! Summer dog walkers get under my skin mostly because during summer, the amount of dog poo left in the park (ergo, owners haven't picked up after their dogs) is staggering, and it almost stops during winter. Yes, less people walk, so it cuts down on it to start with, but you see the line that I'm drawing here, don't you? People who don't bother picking up poo seem to be the same sorts of people who seem to think that they're dogs don't need exercise and stimulation during the unpleasant seasons because it's not good for them (the owners). Possibly some of you will consider that an unnecessarily cutting observation, but it is what it is.
Cold winter nights with the fire going are gorgeous, and it's so cute seeing our 3 animals trying to find an arrangement that suits them for sharing the fire. Plus, sitting on the couch, under a blanket watching TV or reading a book or whatever with the fire going and a hot chocolate in hand is sooo nice. Or, you know, sitting amongst the animals, vying for my spot on the floor in front of the fire.
Of course, with the new work location, there will be no lovely hot Luscious coffee on the way to work in the mornings, but if I learn to make it myself, then I can take a travel mug PLUS as a relatively unrelated side point, I won't end up sitting in traffic for hours and hours because I won't be going on the motorway. Tra la la! Ever noticed how so many Aucklanders seem to forget not only where their accelerator is, but also how to drive, when it's raining?
One of the best things about winter though? Stews and soups and fresh crusty bread. All homemade. Yum. It's no wonder people put on weight in winter. The food is so good! Plus, the extra insulation keeps you warm. Bonus!
There's more of course, but since you're probably asleep by now, I'll leave it there.
Thursday 3 May 2007
I'm working on my scowly judgemental face
A couple of weeks ago I got a summons for jury service.
So, I did what everyone does, and tried to wheedle out of it. I asked my boss at head office to write a letter saying that it would be a terrible hardship and inconvenience to have me away from the office etc etc (the usual), which I then dutifully sent it off to the Court people.
And. They. Declined. My. Application.
Seriously! I got a letter yesterday ...
After due consideration, I regret to advise that your application has been declined ...because your company couldn't write a decent letter to wiggle you out of jury service to save themselves ...
I suppose it didn't exactly say that, but you get the general gist. Jury service. Me. Duly summoned (is that the word?). No wiggling out allowed. Bollocks.
The thing is, they're not supposed to decline it. They're supposed to go "Oh, OK then. No worries! See you next time!" and then the next time you do the same again, and so do they. It's in the jury service handbook or something. I've been summoned (again, no idea if that is the word) about 4 times now, and I've always got out of it. Well, except this time. Which means that my previous letters were better. Bollocks. I should've known that my current company were crap at this sort of thing and used an old one.
Did I mention that there is a trial scheduled to start that week which is anticipated to last for four weeks? FOUR WEEKS! If I get selected, I'm going to be there for a month! And what sort of trial is that going to be? It's not going to be some open and shut trial of an idiot that forgot to put a mask on while he was robbing a dairy now, is it? No, it's going to be murder or something else completely nasty.
I'm working on a plan though. So far, said plan consists of turning up to Court and looking all judgemental and scowly at the Defence people. I'll just have to work out who they are. Mind you, whoever I look all judgemental and scowly at is going to get all upset anyway aren't they? So I guess I'll just look judgemental and scowly at everyone then. And I'll try not to look thick. Lawyers like thick people involved in these sorts of things because they think they can baffle them and win. I'll have to make sure I wear my glasses. Hair up, or down? Which looks more intelligent? Probably up. Down, my hair looks like I've stuck my finger in a light socket, and intelligent people don't usually do that sort of thing (although one of the guys I work with jammed a knife in a plugged-in toaster the other day, which I didn't think was overly smart).
Actually, when I stop and think about it, I wonder if I'm looking at this all wrong ...? Perhaps I should embrace the opportunity to do jury service, especially if it's going to be a long trial (I can't even sit still through a movie, let alone a day in Court, goodness knows how this is going to go. I'm going to have the judge throwing things at me and telling me to stop wiggling, I can see it now!).
I could write them a letter to say thank you.
Dear jury selector person
Thank you for your letter declining my application to be excused from jury service.
I'm so pleased that you read between the lines and realised that I really would love to sit on a jury and I especially sincerely hope you pick me for the really long trial. That'd be great.
You see, I keep a daily blog, and now I'm going to have heaps of new material! I'll be able to tell my readers all about what's happening at Court, and I'm sure they'll be really interested in the evidence and stuff! I'll be able to ask their advice too if I'm not too sure about anything! It'll be like having an extra big jury!
Thanks again,
Simonne.
You know what else this means? When I'm on jury service I'm not going to be able to update my blog in the mornings. Possibly for four weeks! What about all my fans?
It's not till July though, so no immediate panic.
One really big bugger though is that if I decide on flight with my job, I'm screwed. I have to give a months notice, and with potentially a month on jury service coming up, I'm not going to be a very good option for anyone. I'm just going to have to sit tight for a few months. Still, they did give me a pay rise the other day ...probably to try and hold off the flight I guess.
...Do you think it's justifiable to get a new outfit for jury service?
So, I did what everyone does, and tried to wheedle out of it. I asked my boss at head office to write a letter saying that it would be a terrible hardship and inconvenience to have me away from the office etc etc (the usual), which I then dutifully sent it off to the Court people.
And. They. Declined. My. Application.
Seriously! I got a letter yesterday ...
After due consideration, I regret to advise that your application has been declined ...because your company couldn't write a decent letter to wiggle you out of jury service to save themselves ...
I suppose it didn't exactly say that, but you get the general gist. Jury service. Me. Duly summoned (is that the word?). No wiggling out allowed. Bollocks.
The thing is, they're not supposed to decline it. They're supposed to go "Oh, OK then. No worries! See you next time!" and then the next time you do the same again, and so do they. It's in the jury service handbook or something. I've been summoned (again, no idea if that is the word) about 4 times now, and I've always got out of it. Well, except this time. Which means that my previous letters were better. Bollocks. I should've known that my current company were crap at this sort of thing and used an old one.
Did I mention that there is a trial scheduled to start that week which is anticipated to last for four weeks? FOUR WEEKS! If I get selected, I'm going to be there for a month! And what sort of trial is that going to be? It's not going to be some open and shut trial of an idiot that forgot to put a mask on while he was robbing a dairy now, is it? No, it's going to be murder or something else completely nasty.
I'm working on a plan though. So far, said plan consists of turning up to Court and looking all judgemental and scowly at the Defence people. I'll just have to work out who they are. Mind you, whoever I look all judgemental and scowly at is going to get all upset anyway aren't they? So I guess I'll just look judgemental and scowly at everyone then. And I'll try not to look thick. Lawyers like thick people involved in these sorts of things because they think they can baffle them and win. I'll have to make sure I wear my glasses. Hair up, or down? Which looks more intelligent? Probably up. Down, my hair looks like I've stuck my finger in a light socket, and intelligent people don't usually do that sort of thing (although one of the guys I work with jammed a knife in a plugged-in toaster the other day, which I didn't think was overly smart).
Actually, when I stop and think about it, I wonder if I'm looking at this all wrong ...? Perhaps I should embrace the opportunity to do jury service, especially if it's going to be a long trial (I can't even sit still through a movie, let alone a day in Court, goodness knows how this is going to go. I'm going to have the judge throwing things at me and telling me to stop wiggling, I can see it now!).
I could write them a letter to say thank you.
Dear jury selector person
Thank you for your letter declining my application to be excused from jury service.
I'm so pleased that you read between the lines and realised that I really would love to sit on a jury and I especially sincerely hope you pick me for the really long trial. That'd be great.
You see, I keep a daily blog, and now I'm going to have heaps of new material! I'll be able to tell my readers all about what's happening at Court, and I'm sure they'll be really interested in the evidence and stuff! I'll be able to ask their advice too if I'm not too sure about anything! It'll be like having an extra big jury!
Thanks again,
Simonne.
You know what else this means? When I'm on jury service I'm not going to be able to update my blog in the mornings. Possibly for four weeks! What about all my fans?
It's not till July though, so no immediate panic.
One really big bugger though is that if I decide on flight with my job, I'm screwed. I have to give a months notice, and with potentially a month on jury service coming up, I'm not going to be a very good option for anyone. I'm just going to have to sit tight for a few months. Still, they did give me a pay rise the other day ...probably to try and hold off the flight I guess.
...Do you think it's justifiable to get a new outfit for jury service?
Wednesday 2 May 2007
Time - 7pm last night; Place - BBs cafe at Ascot Hospital; Event - Fertility Associates Seminar
If you are having fertility issues, and you get the chance to attend one of these FA seminars, do it. It's well worth it. I would say that they'll run more of them because the response has been so good.
I didn't learn anything new as far as the whole fertility/infertility shebang goes (I've done a lot of research, so I was mostly there to find out about the system anyway), but I did learn a couple of things about IVF which are really good to know!
A run of the mill IVF cycle will cost around $8,000.00. This is where they let sperm fertilise an egg in a test tube, without intervention (well, this is all about intervention, but you know what I mean!), so not ICSI, which we likely won't need. ICSI (which comes with a $10,000.00 approx price tag) is where they inject a single sperm into an egg, and is for couples where there is a sperm issue.
We also learned that a frozen cycle of IVF is only about $900.00, so the thing to hope for is a number of good embryos (quality over quantity though, always) from a fresh IVF cycle, and that we get some strong enough to survive the thaw (about 70% of embryos survive the thaw, so we want enough to be able to lose some, if that makes sense). This is assuming, of course, that we wouldn't be pregnant first pop off the fresh IVF cycle. There is a good chance of that happening, 40%-50% apparently, but of course that leaves a 50%-60% chance that it won't also. I'm being positive, without putting all my eggs in one basket (or test tube) so to speak.
The other thing we learned is that there are two government funded fertility clinics in Auckland who do IVF, Fertility Associates and Fertility Plus (we knew that already, the next bit is the new information). Although you don't get a choice who you received treatment through if you go fully public, you do have the ability to tweak the system a bit! Al and I both heard different things on this one, and we're not sure which of us is right (well, I'm sure I am, and he's sure he is, but that's not very helpful ... we will have to find a way to clarify it), but it's either from first point of contact with one or other clinic, you get to stay with them (as in, we have already been seen and had tests done by FA, privately, so if we went on the Gov't funded waiting list, we'd be assigned to them, even though we would otherwise have been lumped with FP), OR it's if you do an IVF cycle or some other form of treatment privately in the first instance, you get to stay with them. I'm going to get to working on finding an answer on that one though. I want to do my treatment with FA. (Yes, I know it's our treatment, but let's face it, I'm the one that's going to be injecting myself x times a day, blowing up like a balloon, going through all the hormone/emotional/everything else crap. All his nibs has to do is put up with me (OK, so his bit sucks a little too), and get up close and personal with a jar a couple of hours before egg retrieval).
What made me laugh is that at one point they showed how egg retrieval is done (a needle up the jacksie (fine, fine ...ermmm ...vagina), through the wall of the jacksie, and into the follicles on the ovaries to suck out the eggies), and everyone is just sitting there watching going "Oh ...ok". Well, when they showed how sperm retrieval is done if there is an issue with sperm in the ejaculate eg. there's none and they have to get it straight from the boy bits, and they showed a pic of the needle going into the boy bits? Every single boy in the place bent forwards in their seats and starting squirming. Very amusing.
We were also given a book (thank FA! It was really unexpected, but very appreciated! It contains lots of good information by the looks of it too ...I'll let you know) on making babies (fertility and infertility), and when we did a tour of the clinic, I received a folder full of information on IVF which I'll get into as well. I think that knowing as much as you can makes a difference, if only just to help the fear.
Even for those few things it was really worth it!
I didn't learn anything new as far as the whole fertility/infertility shebang goes (I've done a lot of research, so I was mostly there to find out about the system anyway), but I did learn a couple of things about IVF which are really good to know!
A run of the mill IVF cycle will cost around $8,000.00. This is where they let sperm fertilise an egg in a test tube, without intervention (well, this is all about intervention, but you know what I mean!), so not ICSI, which we likely won't need. ICSI (which comes with a $10,000.00 approx price tag) is where they inject a single sperm into an egg, and is for couples where there is a sperm issue.
We also learned that a frozen cycle of IVF is only about $900.00, so the thing to hope for is a number of good embryos (quality over quantity though, always) from a fresh IVF cycle, and that we get some strong enough to survive the thaw (about 70% of embryos survive the thaw, so we want enough to be able to lose some, if that makes sense). This is assuming, of course, that we wouldn't be pregnant first pop off the fresh IVF cycle. There is a good chance of that happening, 40%-50% apparently, but of course that leaves a 50%-60% chance that it won't also. I'm being positive, without putting all my eggs in one basket (or test tube) so to speak.
The other thing we learned is that there are two government funded fertility clinics in Auckland who do IVF, Fertility Associates and Fertility Plus (we knew that already, the next bit is the new information). Although you don't get a choice who you received treatment through if you go fully public, you do have the ability to tweak the system a bit! Al and I both heard different things on this one, and we're not sure which of us is right (well, I'm sure I am, and he's sure he is, but that's not very helpful ... we will have to find a way to clarify it), but it's either from first point of contact with one or other clinic, you get to stay with them (as in, we have already been seen and had tests done by FA, privately, so if we went on the Gov't funded waiting list, we'd be assigned to them, even though we would otherwise have been lumped with FP), OR it's if you do an IVF cycle or some other form of treatment privately in the first instance, you get to stay with them. I'm going to get to working on finding an answer on that one though. I want to do my treatment with FA. (Yes, I know it's our treatment, but let's face it, I'm the one that's going to be injecting myself x times a day, blowing up like a balloon, going through all the hormone/emotional/everything else crap. All his nibs has to do is put up with me (OK, so his bit sucks a little too), and get up close and personal with a jar a couple of hours before egg retrieval).
What made me laugh is that at one point they showed how egg retrieval is done (a needle up the jacksie (fine, fine ...ermmm ...vagina), through the wall of the jacksie, and into the follicles on the ovaries to suck out the eggies), and everyone is just sitting there watching going "Oh ...ok". Well, when they showed how sperm retrieval is done if there is an issue with sperm in the ejaculate eg. there's none and they have to get it straight from the boy bits, and they showed a pic of the needle going into the boy bits? Every single boy in the place bent forwards in their seats and starting squirming. Very amusing.
We were also given a book (thank FA! It was really unexpected, but very appreciated! It contains lots of good information by the looks of it too ...I'll let you know) on making babies (fertility and infertility), and when we did a tour of the clinic, I received a folder full of information on IVF which I'll get into as well. I think that knowing as much as you can makes a difference, if only just to help the fear.
Even for those few things it was really worth it!
Tuesday 1 May 2007
What the ...?
The husband, bless him, has a nasty habit of contemplating complete crap, and then sharing.
For example, remember the acorn/oak tree gem of a few weeks ago? All him.
The biggest bugger of them all is that he always comes up with these things in the evening, which completely ruins mine because then I end up contemplating complete crap as well. I'm just not a contemplater of crap. It annoys the living daylights out of me.
It's ok for him, he works nights, so it's fine if he ends up half the night stewing on utter bollocks. But, me? I end up losing sleep over it, which makes for a very grumpy Ginger the next day. Well. I suppose that's one draw back for him, isn't it? A grumpy wife doesn't make for harmony in the home really, does it? Ha!
So, what's got me started this morning?
Last night's contemplation...
If you call your sibling a son of a bitch, does the insult have the same impact, bearing in mind that you share said ...errr ...parent? (presumably mother...I suppose though, if Dad swings that way ...well, you know ...) Are you also insulting yourself?
Where on earth does this stuff even come from? Who thinks of these things? Aside from the husband, that is.
If only this nutcase didn't fund all my shopping, and so cheerfully.
I'm still wondering about the acorn thing too by the way, so if you googled anything interesting, let me know.
(Fertility Associates seminar is tonight, 7pm)
For example, remember the acorn/oak tree gem of a few weeks ago? All him.
The biggest bugger of them all is that he always comes up with these things in the evening, which completely ruins mine because then I end up contemplating complete crap as well. I'm just not a contemplater of crap. It annoys the living daylights out of me.
It's ok for him, he works nights, so it's fine if he ends up half the night stewing on utter bollocks. But, me? I end up losing sleep over it, which makes for a very grumpy Ginger the next day. Well. I suppose that's one draw back for him, isn't it? A grumpy wife doesn't make for harmony in the home really, does it? Ha!
So, what's got me started this morning?
Last night's contemplation...
If you call your sibling a son of a bitch, does the insult have the same impact, bearing in mind that you share said ...errr ...parent? (presumably mother...I suppose though, if Dad swings that way ...well, you know ...) Are you also insulting yourself?
Where on earth does this stuff even come from? Who thinks of these things? Aside from the husband, that is.
If only this nutcase didn't fund all my shopping, and so cheerfully.
I'm still wondering about the acorn thing too by the way, so if you googled anything interesting, let me know.
(Fertility Associates seminar is tonight, 7pm)
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