I've been feeling kind of awful lately. I had two, weird, mini-periods in a month, then all of this pain in my abdomen and bladder started up again and I thought, "Oh no, not another Interstitial Cystitis flare up!" I went to my internist today and it turns out that I have urethritis, which is a bacterial infection of the urethra. I've never had this one before. Hopefully that's all it is and these antibiotics will put an end to some of the pain.
I'm used to the constant, nagging, low-grade pain of IC -- I've learned to live with it, but when anything more acute happens, like cystitis, or anything that would affect my bladder, it throws everything out of balance, the IC pain flares up, and all I want to do is lie in bed with a hot pad hugged up against my belly. It's so bad tonight I had to take one and a half Vicodin, two Tylenol, two Hyosciamine, and four Uristat tablets. My pee is so full of dye right now I think I could probably paint a portrait with it.
I have to have another internal ultrasound next week to check the cysts on my ovaries, and then after that my gynecologist wants to see me. She's the smarty pants who wrote two books about IC, so it always feels good to be in her hands, so to speak.
I broke a dental bridge a few days ago, and because of that, and the fact that I feel pretty miserable right now, I wound up having to cancel my photo session, but hopefully I'll be able to reschedule it for sometime soon.
I'm still feeding my beloved one-eyed Jakey cat through a tube in his stomach, but he's doing really well. Mitzie is still living under the bed but she's steadily gaining confidence and coming around. The kittens we've been nursing are getting fat and cute. I'll take more pictures of them soon to share with you : ) One of our Norouz goldfish died but by the same token we've managed to save the lives of the nine other fish who would certainly have died otherwise, so I guess we're not doing that bad. Oh, and the four-hundred-dollar mouse is doing so well I can't tell him apart from the other two. Now if I could just find some way to send all of three of them to Phil...
I'm watching taped Oprah shows. First I watched the conjoined twins episode, which was incredibly disturbing and really upset me because the baby who was killed, so the other one could live, had a brain and was alive, and it seems as if people really didn't have a lot of compassion for this other little being -- they even refer to it as a parasitic twin. I'm glad that they were able to save the life of the twin girl who had only the slimmest chance of surviving, but I can't help but get stirred up thinking about the other baby/head's life. I wonder why I identify with the helpless head baby -- the one who didn't have any organs, arms or legs. I really feel sorry for it.
I loved the story about the woman whose dreams led her to her daughter's missing friend, and saved the friend's life. These kind of stories restore my faith, and there was the story about the dog who called 911, barked for help, and let the paramedics in, and the little five year old who called 911 for her passed out Mother. Then I watched the plastic surgery and age prevention shows, then the one with Kirstie Alley, (I don't get the thing about her kitchen - I saw the comments she made about it on Fat Actress and didn't realize that this was actually happening in real life -- it looked great, but it was pretty nice to start with, lucky girl), and now there's the woman who like me had bariatric surgery, lost a ton of weight, (much, much more than I have), and then had the cosmetic surgeries that I need to have.
I HAVE to get thinner, have to, have to, have to. I really want to. It sucks that I get sick and have to lay around recovering and that pain medication makes me gain weight. It totally slows my metabolism down. A little over a year ago, when I had been taking it pretty regularly, I got off of it, and almost immediately the extra weight I had gained fell off, fourteen pounds or something like that in just a couple of weeks, I think. That's what I'm hoping will happen this time. I had just weaned myself off of it again, after having had to take it for the last bladder/IC flare up, but now here we are again. However, now that I've got the antibiotics, hopefully this will clear up quick and I can get off the stuff. I hate it! Wish me luck?
I had no idea how stunningly beautiful Tyra Banks is. Now, after seeing the America's Top model series I think she is just to-die-for beautiful. I loooove her red hair. I'm going to miss seeing her now that the series is over. Wow, is she beautiful, no wonder she's so popular, she's amazing!
Whenever Beau asks me for a little something extra, like some more virtual money, or a new electronic game, I have this little trick where I ask him for something in exchange that sounds like it's for me, but what he doesn't realize is that it's really for him. I ask him to read to me. He doesn't really like reading and won't do it on his own, at least not without a lot of prodding, so if I can get him to read out loud to me, then at least I know that he's engaged in reading, and he's building his confidence in reading aloud. I don't want him to ever have to suffer the stigma of being that poor kid in the class who stumbles and stutters his or her way through a paragraph when the teacher calls on her to read out loud. We had a girl like that in our school and my heart would just break for her every time she got picked on.
Since I'm feeling so awful tonight, I really wanted him to read to me. I thought it would help take my mind of the fact that I keep wanting and having to pee. Pee, pee, pee, it's all I can think about, even loaded up with pain medications, bladder medications, antibiotics, and vitamins, everything just hurts, bleh, so this time, instead of wanting Beau to read for Beau's sake, I actually was hoping he would read to me to help take my mind off of how much I'm hurting. Wouldn't you know it, he picks tonight to make a stand and be selfish, and I'm just too tired to fight him, plus it would take the joy and pleasure out of it anyway. I mean if I have to force him to read to me he'll just be grumpy and disconnected and rush through it, and I'd be defeating the original purpose, which is to inspire him to connect with the joy of reading. However selfish behavior has to have a consequence so now I'm going to have to teach him a lesson by saying no the next time he asks me for something, and remind him that this is the reason. If he's too tired to read to me for five measly minutes when I really want him to, I'm going to be too tired to drive him to the mall, or buy him something on Amazon, when he wants me to.
Parenting is hard. Raising a child to be loving, responsible, smart, positive, healthy, generous, kind, empathic and balanced has been the biggest challenge of my life. Sometimes I think I suck at it and sometimes I think I'm really good at it. It depends on how Beau is doing at the time.
There are times when I feel sorry for us because we don't have a second parent here to lean on and turn to for help. I do have Scott, who I can run things by over the phone, and he's sweet and kind and does what he can, but he doesn't live with us and I'm the one who is on call 24/7. Being a single Mother is the hardest when Beau is acting up, when we're arguing, or he's ill and there isn't anyone here to help. I will always rise to the challenge for Beau, whatever it is, but sometimes when I'm worn out, or off my game, I wish there was another player, someone to send in to play for me when I need to sit on the bench for a minute, someone who will actually, physically take over for me just once in a while to make things a little bit easier.
It's hard being on call all the time. Don't get me wrong though; I thank God for my son with every breath I take, seriously, this gratitude is so deep that it's as much a part of me as breathing. I know just how lucky I am to have him, how lucky and blessed I am to have been given the gift of bearing and raising a child. Sometimes I look at him, see how well he's doing, (compared to some of his friends, sheesh), appreciate how smart, funny, and kind he is, and then I'll think, hey, I'm not doing that bad of a job, maybe I'm not so bad at this. But then all it will take is just one stupid comment from someone here on Live Journal, or my Mom, who I don't think has ever said anything positive to me about my parenting of Beau, will say something extreme and negative, and I'll feel like defeated, sigh.
Oprah ended, and I was just parked on a random channel and heard this famous movie line, "I'm gonna rip the eyes out of your head and puke into your dead skull. You messed with the wrong marine." Anyone wanna guess what movie it's from?
Okay back to clearing off my DVR, this is getting to be one serious time consuming hobby. Next up, tonight's final Apprentice. I think Tana acted pretty nasty last week, (Did any of you see how snobby and mean she was?) so I'm rooting for Kendra because she just seems like a much nicer and more deserving human being. Plus she's got all that real estate training which would seem to make her a good fit for The Donald.
Hey, I'm stuck in bed, what else have I got to do? I already did all of Atra's homework, heh. I'm crossing my fingers she won't give me her Death of a Salesman homework next week. You'd think I'd jump at the chance, considering the material, but there is so much more that I should be doing around here, than writing junior college essays about Willy Loman.
Big loving hugs,