This isn't your fist pumping Jersey Shore

I'm baaack! 

I spent a long weekend in Ocean City, New Jersey.  Love it.  So many memories, as I've been going almost every year since I was about 5 years old, maybe earlier.  First off, it's dry, as in no alcohol or bars in sight.  So there was some booze smuggling that took place. 

The weekend was filled with days on the beach, walks on the beach, nights on the board walk, evenings on the porch, and ice cream.  Noms Noms. It's just a nice relaxing place.  Love it. 

Here are some pictures from the adventures this weekend. 

Haunted Mini Golf

My friend, Whac a Mole, also known as the story of my life... it must have taken my previous advice and the moles are staying in the hole, it was out of order. 

Zoltan told me I should go on vacation.  I should listen to him.

kids getting early morning surf lessons.

I had a great time, I got to spend time with my family.  I missed my pups terribly though, and I am glad to be back.  



Want to know a sure sign that someone is mentally ill?

They have their toenails painted like this:



actually worse than this, more on the skin around the nail, and less on the actual nail... with flip flops. 

And that, my friends is how my couselor had her toenails painted.  If you know me in the real world, you know... I could care less about things like nail polish, so in order for me to be talking about it, it had to be horrid.  That's something a mental patient would do.  I am not exaggerating this at all.  I'm thinking to myself, dont judge, she probably has it together in other arenas... like counseling.

She was supposed to understand what I was going through, I was planning on talking to her about this mess, and looking forward to having someone understand, offer advice, help with coping, etc.  However what happened was... I sat down, and she started telling me about her IVF.  How easy it is to take children to Iceland and Paris.  How she didn't want a big mini-van, so all 3 of her children sit in the back of her car.  She asked me no questions.  Everytime I started talking, she started talking about her donor eggs.  I barely spoke at all.  She continued to want me to think of her as some high class citizen.  She informed me her husband went to Wharton and was a big shot.  She told me her husband was disappointed that her children with donor eggs are not as smart as him and her.  (I was thinking.... uhhh does your hubs know that these kids came from his sperm?)  She kept telling me that she lives in a nice neighborhood, and how she talked to Mayor N.uttter (the mayor of Philadelphia) and told him that if he wants to fix the problems in Philadelphia, that she should  put an IUD (birthcontrol) in every parent with an illegit child (seriously... WTF????).  Now, the whole time, this woman looks like she just crawled out from a dark alley and is dressed like a prostitute, but she wore a fancy scarf, so I think she may have thought that made it classier... I could see her underwear the entire time.  From the bottom, not the top!  This is a true story.  I was wondering if maybe she dressed like that for the drug addicts that she may also provide counseling to, make her more relatable.  So all of her comments about being so high class left me thinking... if you're so fabulous... why in God's name would you be dressed like THAT?  I'm not nice. 

She told me her insurance paid for everything 13 times... 13 motherfucking times. Not that she told me 13 times, but she went thru IVF or FET 13 times.  How lucky, and her insurance paid for it?  I told her that I felt like the world is a scam, just people taking advantage of other people.  She tells me that she never felt like that.  I said well have you ever handed over 25,000 to a doctor and left with nothing.  She said no, I said okay then.

I think maybe she forgot why I was there. It was bad.  Trainwreck bad.  At this point, I have come to the conclusion that the world is playing tricks on me.  Well world, I see what you're doing... and I appreciate your sense of humor. 

Will I go back next week?  Absolutely!  I need to see if this nail polish thing is real or if it maybe was a bad day?  Maybe dress up like a crackhead hooker day?  For the first time in a long time, I have something to look forward to.  I think the universe might just be trying to cheer me up.  I walked out of there feeling like a winner!  So I'd say therapy was a complete success!

I keep asking myself if I'm on some really hilarious reality tv show.  If I am, I havent spotted any cameras.  If I'm not, I really should be, because it would make for good television.

Therapy

Do you ever feel more comfortable talking to someone who is clearly crazier than you?  Well, I do!  With that said, I think me and my therapist are going to get along just great.  She used donor eggs.  She told me that she asked Santa and the Easter Bunny for a baby.  Word?!?  Okay, all joking aside... I'm so grateful to have found someone to talk to about this that truly understands what I'm going through.  She said it herself, unless you have gone through this, you really can not have any idea what people go through.  It was good. 

When I called another counseling group, I asked the specialist if there was anyone there that specialized in infertility.  The woman laughed, and said... "Um, this is a counseling agency, I think you have the wrong number." I replied, "No shit! When someone calls and says that their husband died do you refer them to the funeral home?"  I knew that place wasn't for me. 

Yesterday I made an attempt at shipping these embryos.  That was fun!  The conversation went something like this... I need to ship embryos to this address, but I dont know where the embryos are.  I do, however, have the name of the person who knows where they are.  Can I give you my information and you contact her?  Oh, you need to provide me a quote first?  Ok, $490 plus a tank rental deposit of $880 that is refunded once the tank is returned.  I need to fill out a spreadsheet?  Okay, thank you for your help."

I did finally find a place that will ship the embryos for $390.00, a bargain.  Thank God I'm off of work, because this is a lot of fun. Between this, calls from HR, calls from short term insurance, calls from the mortgage company, calls to the doctors office, I actually still feel like I have a full time job. 

This weekend, we are heading to the beach!  Every year since I was a child, my grandmother has rented a beach house.  We are headed down, and I am so looking forward to it!

Update

I had my follow-up appointment today.  The one where I thought I was going to get sent back to prison.  I start telling the doctor, that there is no way I can go back to that place just yet.  I explain that I would be going back to a shit storm, one where HR is involved, not regular work, but potential additional questions from HR and I simply can not deal right now.  She said, "First, I think it's cute that you thought I was going to send you back there... I wasn't, but what happened with HR?" I just love her. 

I think I forgot to tell you guys... my boss held his finger up in my face while I was talking, after one of his interrogations.  SERIOUSLY!  Like to tell me to shut up.  Like what you would do to a child. 

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Like this, but wayyyyyyy more reached out in my face.  So after that, I promised if he has one more "talk", I'm dunzo... DO NOT PASS GO, GOING TO HR.  So that's what I did. 

He also called another co-worker, another younger female into his office.  He asked her if she knew who her boss was and if she thought she could just waltz around here doing whatever she wants. Who just comes out talking to someone like that when nothing has happened to trigger an argument?  He's bat shit crazy!  I know he's old, but does this guy think this is 1950 and we are on Mad Men? 

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Anyway, I am out at least until August 6th, with the opportunity for it to be extended.   So I'm hoping to use this time to take care of everything I have been letting go of.  I'm hoping to find some peace. 

It all seems a bit unnecessary, however when your getting crap for going to work and doing your job, what's a gal to do?  Now Im not doing my job, and I'm not getting crap.  Funny how that all works out.

The epiphany!

All this time, I've been struggling to hold it all together.  "Swimming" as I called it in my previous post.  Well then I had a day where I decided... I am going to stop swimming altogether.  I'm not going to sink, but I am going to float.  So that's what I have been doing... floating, and I intend to float as long as permissable by state and federal laws (more to that in a minute). 

Last week was yet another horrendous week.  One where on Monday, I'm getting a physical, on Tuesday I'm getting hooked up to a heart rate monitor, on Wednesday I'm getting the heart rate monitor removed, on Thursday Im stuck in the drive thru at the pharmacy, and on Friday, these sons of bitches at doggy daycare sent the dogs home because they were full (uhhh seriously... WTF).  So each day, Im having to do some extra bull shit at a time where breathing actually feels quite difficult.  So then I have to explain to my dickhead boss every day some new wack, but truthful reason I am running late every day.  So by Wednesday, I had acutally had a talk with my old boss, that if this guy continues to give me shit, Im getting a doctor to write me out of this joint and enjoying peace and quiet as long as humanly possible.  So, by Friday, Im having a talk with the new guy.  It didnt go well.  It resulted in me in HR by my own doing, explaining that his guy is being unreasonable and giving me crap about doctors appointments.  HR referred me to the nurse to see if this could be covered by FMLA so that I dont have to run anything by him going forward and protect myself.

The nurse asks me what's going on, I fill her in, on this past year.  She asks me... "What took you so long to get here?"  She was very kind, she told me that I was very strong and that it sounded like I needed a break.  I went there intending to hear her say FMLA, the kind covered for day to day things, where you still go to work... and she told me.... "I think you need a break.  Will your doctor write you out?"  This was like beautiful music to my ears.  Yes, a doctor will write me out.  Another thing... for all of those out there.  When you pay a doctors office over 25k in cash, and continue to have a running tab, know this one thing... there will always be a doctor willing to sign any piece of paper that hits their desk.  That is always the backup plan. 

I am fortunate enough to have a nurse practioner at my regular doctors office that knows everything that has been going on, so she knows... "this bitch is on the brink".  So Tuesday of this week, I was able to get an appointment.  Monday of this week, I woke up to the flu.  Vomit inducing flu.  Awesome!  So at Tuesdays appointment, I'm trying to hold back from vomiting... I cant really talk about my lack of mental health.  So she writes me out for a week, to re-evaluate me on Monday (July 23).  I can not wait for that appoinment, because then I'll have a better idea of how long I can be out. I hope it's for a long ass time!  I have had it up to here with trying to do everything.  For what... for a man who has some retired wife at home making him peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to look at me like I'm a bum while Im running around like a nut trying to keep this ship from sinking?  Uhhh... No. 

I still havent arranged for the shipment of these embryos.  I have not taken care of any of the things that need tending to.  I also haven't tended to the fact that I'm also morning a death.  A death of a biological child.  It sort of feels like a death.  It's no hard feelings toward any future non biological children, however there are a lot of things that are different, that I fully acknowledge I did not really address.  I didnt deal with the feelings, because I didnt know they were there.  Now it seems everything has caught up to me.  

Feelings are a funny thing, you can run but you can not hide.  They sneak up on you.


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And so here I am... floating until I figure some things out, and I must say... floating is so much better than swimming!


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Are we there yet?

So, I've been quiet.  I've been quiet because I don't know that anyone would want to read what I really want to say... it would be a long winded rant where every other word is Fuck. 

I think people look at this and think to themselves that I am at home boo hooing about my ovaries.  Yea, that part sucks, but that's not why I'm about to crack.  I'm about to crack because for well over a year now, every single thing... every single aspect of my life has been a bit of a challenge.  Imagine your most stressful day.  Nothing goes right.  Tomorrow most of you wake up and everything is better.  For some of you, it carries over into maybe a week.  For most of you, things get better.  Imagine how you would feel if after a year, nothing has gotten better.  New problems come up... old problems are still lying around, unresolved.  Nothing is getting better. 

After a year of this, I feel tired.  I feel like I started down this road expecting to swim a few laps.  These laps have turned into a river, the river has taken me to the ocean, now I feel like I have swam around the world.  My GPS says that I will hit land in two hours, so keep swimming.  Two hours have passed and there is no land in sight.  I AM TIRED.  I want to stop swimming. 

What would happen if I stopped swimming?  Would I drown?  I'm kind of drowning now.  So seriously what would happen if I let everything go.  Things would suck?  They suck now. 

People don't see the strong person about to drown. Because on the outside, everything seems like everything is okay.  Most people would have stopped swimming a long time ago. Most people have sympathy for the ones who stop swimming.  I don't want sympathy, that's not what I am saying.  I am going to keep swimming, this is not a cry for help.  What I am saying is this... I haven't cracked yet... which is a small miracle.  That doesn't mean that I am unsinkable.  So please don't circle around me creating waves.  I feel like people around me, people that should know better or understand, are fucking jumping into my path... shouting "CANNONBALL!  SPLASH!  THESE WAVES ARE FUN!" Please don't make this harder for me. 

I put everyone into two categories.  Category one includes people that do not add to my heaping pile of shit, neutral people that do not cause me any unpleasant emotions which include a headache, an argument, guilt, grief, anger, rage, etc. Then there is everyone else, everyone else falls into category two.  Category two people are driving me insane.

I had a doctors appointment yesterday, a follow up from last months EKG appointment.  Great news, I dont have a heart arrhythmia, bad news... something happened and she doesn't like the way my heart beats.   So today I am walking around with a fucking box attached to me.  Monitoring my heart for 24 hours.  I should have asked more questions, but quite frankly, I stopped really giving a shit about 10 life crisis's ago.  I will deal with it when it needs to be dealt with. 

For several months, I have been dealing with my mortgage company.  Also known as the fucking Wizard of OZ.  Try to get anyone at that place to have the foggiest idea  of what is going on.  It's impossible. 
I have paid my mortgage payment every month, yet somehow I am showing as past due.  They show records of me making double mortgage payments.  I can assure everyone that that did not happen.  Now if your showing Im making double payments, how can you be showing that I am past due? 
 Me: Can I just pay the difference... Them: No. Me: HUH?  Them: No, we have to figure this out.  We will call you back in a few days.  (long period of time lapses) Me calling, harassing them.  Nothing.  Oh, because your account is "past due" (which it really isn't past due) when you call in, your call gets routed to your special account manager.  WHO NEVER ANSWERS THE FUCKING PHONE!  No, our house isn't going into foreclosure, for those a-holes that just read that and now want to start the rumor train that we're about to get evicted.  It's just one more thing to deal with.  One more exhausting thing.

I've just kind of had it.  I have no time to sit at home crying about my ovaries, because we are literally fucking sailing from one crisis to the next. 

I need a vacation, and right now, sitting in my closet blowing bubbles would be a vacation.

You are what you eat

This weekend, I bought a watermelon. The following is a conversation that took place in my head.

As I was cutting it up, it reminded me of my childhood.  A beautiful slice of watermelon.  Except my slice was missing seeds.  Oh, that's right!  I bought a seedless watermelon. 

I am a scientist, so the thoughts don't just stop there.  What is a seedless watermelon?  I guess a seedless watermelon is a mutant, a sterile mutant.  I suppose it was genetically selected because of it's lack of seeds.  Looks pretty normal on the outside, but the inside is missing something.  Well there's the occasional dud seed, that clearly looks like something is wrong. 

Holy shit, I am a seedless watermelon.