Archive for March, 2008

I don’t know. I’m trying to upload pictures of cats because that’s the kind of thing I do but I’m having a really hard time. So tomorrow! Pictures of cats!

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The other night Chad and I were watching tv and Tinkerbell (the cat – not the Disney fairy) was sleeping on Chad’s lap. After awhile I noticed that I kept hearing a little noise and we realized that it was Tink meowing in her sleep. It was sort of a “prrr-p” noise and it was really cute and Chad dubbed it “sleep meowing”. Apparently, MoJo does it too but Chad says it sounds a lot like a human saying “meow” in a polite, converstaional tone.

It got me thinking about all the different noises cats can cause and I decided to catalog them.

1. Sleep Meowing.

2. Purring. Tink and Mojo have normal purrs but Faith purrs like a broken down window air conditioning unit. Kind of squeeky and rough.

3. Crying. MoJo cries a pitiful, insistent cry if he notices that the dogs are outside without him.

4. Basement Meow. For some reason all the cats do this thing where they meow really loud when they’re in the basement. I think it happens when one is in the basement alone and wants someone to come play.

5. The pounding of cat feet. Every night when we turn out the lights, the kamikaze cat craziness begins. They have learned that if the humans go to sleep, the dogs go to sleep too and it is the perfect time to run around and play. All three of them get in on this and you can lay in bed and hear wild cats tear from one room to the next. Or you can feel wild cats tear around the bed, doing laps, trying to catch one another. On nights where they doing the bed-laps, I often have to pick them up and put them in a different room usually yelling “ENOUGH!” the whole time.

6. Things falling/crashing/slamming to the ground. The cats knock a lot of things over. I just had to go check the basement because it sounded like a ton of bricks just fell over. I can’t figure out what they knocked over though.

Throw in the sounds of 2 dogs (barking, clickety-clack of dog nails on wood floors), and its pretty loud in our house. And pretty hairy.

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The Kids of Widney High

You’re all going to get spoiled with all this posting I’m doing. Because…umm…you all must live to read my posts. Sure.

 Check out The Kids of Widney High. They are a great group with an amazing story. Listen to the song “Life Without the Cow”. I love that song.

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In my haste to catch every one up with my last post I forgot to let you all know the funny bit. Last week I went in for a hysterosalpingogram just to make sure I am strucutrally sound. The procedure requires a doctor to take x-rays of your abdomen, and fortunately all was well in my pictures. The only problem was that a small portion of the right side of my uterus was obscured by a very, very large gas bubble that was traveling through my intestines. It was huge – at least 5 inches long. Chad said that he has seen gas bubbles on CT scans and x-rays in the emergency room but that mine was really quite large.

So I have medically documented gas and I think if I had needed it, the doctor might have written me a note so I wouldn’t have to go back to work. I wondered for several hours how a five inch gas bubble would manifest itself and around 9:30 that night I was rewarded with about an hour of some quite impressive wind.

I guess my dad is right. I am full of hot air, and now we have the xrays to prove it.

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I was a Clomid Zombie.

Reproductive medicine truly is an adventure. Just to catch everyone up, Chad and I finally have an inkling of an idea of why pregnancy has eluded us. It seems that Chad’s boys aren’t wearing the right hats. See, sperm with normal shaped heads have a ‘hat’ of enzymes that allow them to do what they were born to do. I would like to insert some hilarious example of hat dependent destiny here but the only well known hat wearer I can think of is The Hamburgler. I don’t think his nefarious activities were too dependent on his head wear.


It takes normal shaped sperm with normal sized hats and our problem is that Chad has very few normally shaped boys. The ones he has are great swimmers, presumably because they’re jacked up on the 12 cups of coffee Chad disclosed he drinks on an average day, but if they don’t have the right hat on the bouncer that guards my eggs tells them to take a hike. My eggs are such snobs.


This might or might not mean a variety of things and only some more testing and a repeat analysis will confirm or kind of confirm anything but there is mounting evidence that we will not pass go, not collect $200 and go straight to IVF. Which sucks, because that $200 could defray some of the costs. Seriously – we’re okay with it if that’s what is needed and I myself am better off now that I know there is a reason for the continual disappointment of trying to conceive naturally. Man – there’s a statement your husband could totally take wrong and be offended by.


As we are doing some more testing and there was no time to mount a large scale effort this cycle, our new doctor said hey, let’s take Clomid for a cycle just for the heck of it. Clomid is a drug given to women who don’t ovulate. I ovulate just fine, but this medication can make me Super Ovulate which means I will most likely pop out multiple eggs this cycle and they will all have little capes on and various super powers. The idea is that this will give Chad’s testicular corrale of mutant gametes more targets to aim for, increasing our odds of achieving pregnancy a whole two percentage points from 5% to 7%. I’m sort of left wondering what 2% more hope looks like. I think it might be negligible.


 Clomid has a couple dangers to it. The first is that, as every gentleman knows, any time you hyperstimulate a lady’s ovaries you run the risk of multiple babies, like twins, triplets or as I have read on more than occasion, septuplets. I don’t want septuplets. Our house is only a 2 bedroom and the bedrooms are not that big. The second problem is that it makes me an Irritable Clomid Zombie. This means that while technically I do eat brains, I refuse to eat them on account of everyone being so fucking stupid. So instead I just get shitty with everyone and tell complete strangers when I think they’re being jack asses. To be fair though, I don’t think I was the only one at the cross walk who wanted to tell the lady in her car that stopping so as not to run living human beings over was not asking too much of her. Perhaps I didn’t need to use so many curse words.


The clomid haze is finally clearing in my head. I am a little weepy and I feel like my left ovary is the size of a baseball but the side effects are on their way out. All in all, I doubt if I had the worst reaction to it ever and I don’t feel like it was unmanageable. Hell, I went to work every single day this last week AND to class so I couldn’t have felt too bad.

In other news, I’M GETTING A RAISE AND AN OFFICE. Possibly even an office with a window, but I fully expect them to realize it would not be fair to give me an office with a window when other people of higher rank and longer tenure are going without windows. But we’ll see. And to be honest, I would be very happy with an office even without a window. Ahhh a door to call my own and shut so other people can’t constantly monitor what I’m doing. The bottom line is that there will be a substanial raise and that helps calm some of the fear associated with doing IVF which makes me an overall happier person.

It’s been a crazy week on multiple fronts and I’m going to take any lingering anger out on the aliens in Halo 2. A good day to you all.

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