Disregard the previous post. About 3 hours after I posted it I found out....
I'm pregnant :)
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Back?
Forgive me Blogger, for I have sinned. It's been 3 months since my last post.
In that time a lot has happened, but not much has changed. I didn't leave my job. I didn't transfer stores. I applied for a banking position, was offered a job, and turned it down. Ben still doesn't have health insurance so I have to stay at the shit hole. He's working as a sub again. Not even a long-term sub. Just a day-to-day. That's a long story for another time.
We're still trying. It's month 7. I start testing again in 6 days. Wish us luck.
I fell off the wagon diet-wise. Back on as of last week. Up to 243 pounds. It's fairly disgusting.
Not sure if I posted about wedding cakes. I'm still the only one at work doing them. They've been a nightmare. Brides that shop at grocery stores are (there's no other way to put it) ghetto bitches.
I'm still not sure if I'm the blogging type. It seems really nice in theory, but Ben takes my laptop with him to work everyday, and the office is on the 3rd floor and that's ridiculously hot. That and I just don't know what to talk about half the time. Bitching about work and dieting and infertility can only last so long before it gets boring.
We'll see.
In that time a lot has happened, but not much has changed. I didn't leave my job. I didn't transfer stores. I applied for a banking position, was offered a job, and turned it down. Ben still doesn't have health insurance so I have to stay at the shit hole. He's working as a sub again. Not even a long-term sub. Just a day-to-day. That's a long story for another time.
We're still trying. It's month 7. I start testing again in 6 days. Wish us luck.
I fell off the wagon diet-wise. Back on as of last week. Up to 243 pounds. It's fairly disgusting.
Not sure if I posted about wedding cakes. I'm still the only one at work doing them. They've been a nightmare. Brides that shop at grocery stores are (there's no other way to put it) ghetto bitches.
I'm still not sure if I'm the blogging type. It seems really nice in theory, but Ben takes my laptop with him to work everyday, and the office is on the 3rd floor and that's ridiculously hot. That and I just don't know what to talk about half the time. Bitching about work and dieting and infertility can only last so long before it gets boring.
We'll see.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Llama Llama Duck
It wasn't your typical Saturday. The stars aligned and we found ourselves facing three middle school "graduations" (evidently that's a thing now) and Father's Day. We'd recently lost several cake decorators so it was just the two of us- BPD and me. Our manager helped here and there as she could, but mostly it was just us two against 51 cake orders. Just to give it some perspective- a typical Saturday sees maybe 34, 35. A busy Saturday sees 40 or so. Christmas saw 65. 51 is a lot. For 65 we had all 5 of us working non-stop. Two people on 51 is nuts.
That being said, we cranked them out. I was left alone with the last 5, but that's fairly typical. She leaves on time and I scramble til I get to leave 20 minutes late. So by the time I hit order 51 my brain was mush. All I wanted to do is get it over with and get the hell out. I looked at the order form. Full sheet, of course. Couldn't be a little 1/4 sheet, noooo. Had to be a mega cake that feeds 80-92 people. I looked at the decorations. Edible image of an older African American couple. They looked nice. Classy. I looked in the margins. "Wants landscape, freehand drawing of tool belt and outline of a loma." I blinked at re-read. Ok landscape I can airbrush. Check. Tool belt I can draw. Check. Wtf is a "loma"?? I scanned down to see who had taken the order. Rich. Good. He was working the bread station that day. I could go ask him what the hell a loma was. I found him out on the floor, "Hey, Rich, um... do you remember this order? What's a loma?"
Rich is in his mid 60s. He recently underwent some extensive surgery on his heart. He can really only be described as a shriveled up former biker. He's got the super long, thinning grey ponytail tucked up under his hat and has tattoos hidden under long sleeves year round. Oh, and you can never, NEVER understand what he's saying because he is a chronic mumbler and sounds like he's been smoking for 50 years.
So I asked what he meant by "loma."
"Huuuuuh... He wants a landscape and a tool belt. The guy's a landscaper or something."
"Yes, Rich, I see that. But what is a LOMA?"
"Huuuuuuuuh.... loma....."
-silence-
"Huuuuuuuuuh.... loma..... he wants a llama."
"Are you sure? A llama?"
"Yeah. He's a landscaper."
"But what does that have to do with a llama?"
"I dunno. That's what he wants. A landscape, a tool belt, and an outline of a llama."
"Ok Rich."
So that's what I did. I drew the shit outta that llama. It was the best llama ever to grace a cake. I boxed it and drove home.
Sunday. We were busy again on Sunday. 44 orders. We jumped right in to them. After a few hours BPD and I took our first 15 minute break. When we got back our counter lead was waiting with a very strange look on her face. She looked back and forth between the two of us and finally asked, "Did either of you do a cake with a llama on it yesterday?"
"I did"
-Hysterical laughter-
"Sooo... turns out it wasn't supposed to be a llama, so much as a 'lawnmower'."
And the worst part is- I DIDN'T TAKE A PICTURE. I would SO be on cakewrecks.com, too.
That being said, we cranked them out. I was left alone with the last 5, but that's fairly typical. She leaves on time and I scramble til I get to leave 20 minutes late. So by the time I hit order 51 my brain was mush. All I wanted to do is get it over with and get the hell out. I looked at the order form. Full sheet, of course. Couldn't be a little 1/4 sheet, noooo. Had to be a mega cake that feeds 80-92 people. I looked at the decorations. Edible image of an older African American couple. They looked nice. Classy. I looked in the margins. "Wants landscape, freehand drawing of tool belt and outline of a loma." I blinked at re-read. Ok landscape I can airbrush. Check. Tool belt I can draw. Check. Wtf is a "loma"?? I scanned down to see who had taken the order. Rich. Good. He was working the bread station that day. I could go ask him what the hell a loma was. I found him out on the floor, "Hey, Rich, um... do you remember this order? What's a loma?"
Rich is in his mid 60s. He recently underwent some extensive surgery on his heart. He can really only be described as a shriveled up former biker. He's got the super long, thinning grey ponytail tucked up under his hat and has tattoos hidden under long sleeves year round. Oh, and you can never, NEVER understand what he's saying because he is a chronic mumbler and sounds like he's been smoking for 50 years.
So I asked what he meant by "loma."
"Huuuuuh... He wants a landscape and a tool belt. The guy's a landscaper or something."
"Yes, Rich, I see that. But what is a LOMA?"
"Huuuuuuuuh.... loma....."
-silence-
"Huuuuuuuuuh.... loma..... he wants a llama."
"Are you sure? A llama?"
"Yeah. He's a landscaper."
"But what does that have to do with a llama?"
"I dunno. That's what he wants. A landscape, a tool belt, and an outline of a llama."
"Ok Rich."
So that's what I did. I drew the shit outta that llama. It was the best llama ever to grace a cake. I boxed it and drove home.
Sunday. We were busy again on Sunday. 44 orders. We jumped right in to them. After a few hours BPD and I took our first 15 minute break. When we got back our counter lead was waiting with a very strange look on her face. She looked back and forth between the two of us and finally asked, "Did either of you do a cake with a llama on it yesterday?"
"I did"
-Hysterical laughter-
"Sooo... turns out it wasn't supposed to be a llama, so much as a 'lawnmower'."
And the worst part is- I DIDN'T TAKE A PICTURE. I would SO be on cakewrecks.com, too.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Arthritis is for Old People
I have arthritis. Yes, I'm 26. No I'm not "awfully young to have arthritis." In fact, I was diagnosed at 18. My mother was diagnosed somewhere around 15. It's called psoriatic arthritis. Because, evidently, my psoriasis got lonely- it was working a solo gig from 7th grade up until the fall of my freshman year of college.
Psoriasis makes my life annoying. Arthritis can make my life difficult. It can also make me feel like I'm on trial. Like when my boss demands to know why I'm not using a speed icer to base-ice cakes. It makes my right hand turn into the hamburger-helper glove the next day, that's why. When I simply state "it flares my arthritis. I'm sorry." (my sarcasm isn't appreciated at work) he looks at me like I'm lying and asks with raised eyebrow in a voice saturated with skepticism, "Really?" "No, actually I just don't like the way it looks. I want it to take me a full 45 seconds longer to ice your precious cakes."
Even my trainer, Anne, gives the knee-jerk, "Aren't you too young for that?" *Sigh* Sweetie, I know you're 22 and kind of, well naive and maybe even a little dumb, but this is your job. I told you three months ago that I have psoriatic arthritis. I said, "treat me like I don't have it until I speak up." So when I say "The humidity is making me flare" why do you look at me like I have three heads??
I'm not asking that everyone know that young and old alike can suffer from this disease. I guess it isn't common knowledge yet. But if it comes up in conversation, could you at least refrain from treating me like a liar?
Sorry. Just needed to vent.
Psoriasis makes my life annoying. Arthritis can make my life difficult. It can also make me feel like I'm on trial. Like when my boss demands to know why I'm not using a speed icer to base-ice cakes. It makes my right hand turn into the hamburger-helper glove the next day, that's why. When I simply state "it flares my arthritis. I'm sorry." (my sarcasm isn't appreciated at work) he looks at me like I'm lying and asks with raised eyebrow in a voice saturated with skepticism, "Really?" "No, actually I just don't like the way it looks. I want it to take me a full 45 seconds longer to ice your precious cakes."
Even my trainer, Anne, gives the knee-jerk, "Aren't you too young for that?" *Sigh* Sweetie, I know you're 22 and kind of, well naive and maybe even a little dumb, but this is your job. I told you three months ago that I have psoriatic arthritis. I said, "treat me like I don't have it until I speak up." So when I say "The humidity is making me flare" why do you look at me like I have three heads??
I'm not asking that everyone know that young and old alike can suffer from this disease. I guess it isn't common knowledge yet. But if it comes up in conversation, could you at least refrain from treating me like a liar?
Sorry. Just needed to vent.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Weekly Weigh-In
So tonight will be quick since it's waaay past my bedtime and I get to wake up in 5 hours. Weighed in at 233.6 which means I'm down 2.2 since last week and down 7.8 all together.
Off to bed I go
Off to bed I go
Monday, June 13, 2011
Putting It Off
So it's basically been a week since I've posted. Honestly it's because I just don't want to think about things all that much. My appointment with my gynecologist, Dr. F, was last Wednesday and after going over my charting he agreed that something was probably going on and testing was in order. So on the 20th I'll be going in to get my progesterone and prolactin levels tested, as well as having a tsh reflex test done. I've been putting off this post because I thought I'd want to write about what each would mean, and would, therefore, need to do a lot of research. Turns out I don't really want to do said research. I'm having a hard enough time knowing that there is something wrong, let alone really looking into what all the possibilities are. I know the basics- in looking at yaz and infertility prior to seeing Dr. F I kept hitting progesterone over and over again when discussing lack of ovulation. As for the prolactin- he wants to test that since my left breast has been producing (more than a bead, less than a stream, or a "bream" as F put it to lighten the mood). So my basic understanding is milk in breast = maybe too much prolactin = inhibited ovulation. Finally, I did end up looking up tsh because I had no idea what that meant. Turns out that's a thyroid test. I wouldn't be surprised if that was wonky. I'm heavy and hypothyroidism runs in my family, though the women in my family don't typically need to go on meds til menopause.
Dr. F then started discussing options. Well, one option. He said if the test came back low or high or whatever (he rattled off a range of numbers and said what his magic cutoff number was but at that point all I heard was INFERTILEDEFECTIVESICKNOBABIESFORYOU) that he'd want to put me on clomid. In my vaguely dissociative state I sort of remember him asking me if I'd done research on clomid (why would I have?) and I sort of remember saying no, I'd never heard of it. He said something about what days I'd take it and what days I'd need to have sex and starting with one pill then testing hormone levels again and maybe having to up it to two pills. I do remember him saying that twins was a side effect. Funny how that little tidbit of info will act as a verbal bucket of cold water in your face. I wouldn't mind having twins the second time around (because then I'd have my magic 3 number and husband would have to suck it up- haha) but NOT the first time around. So I'll be doing research about alternatives to clomid, should it become necessary. In the mean time I just don't want to read anything else until I have results directing me to relevant areas of literature. No use freaking myself out any more than I already am, right?
Dr. F then started discussing options. Well, one option. He said if the test came back low or high or whatever (he rattled off a range of numbers and said what his magic cutoff number was but at that point all I heard was INFERTILEDEFECTIVESICKNOBABIESFORYOU) that he'd want to put me on clomid. In my vaguely dissociative state I sort of remember him asking me if I'd done research on clomid (why would I have?) and I sort of remember saying no, I'd never heard of it. He said something about what days I'd take it and what days I'd need to have sex and starting with one pill then testing hormone levels again and maybe having to up it to two pills. I do remember him saying that twins was a side effect. Funny how that little tidbit of info will act as a verbal bucket of cold water in your face. I wouldn't mind having twins the second time around (because then I'd have my magic 3 number and husband would have to suck it up- haha) but NOT the first time around. So I'll be doing research about alternatives to clomid, should it become necessary. In the mean time I just don't want to read anything else until I have results directing me to relevant areas of literature. No use freaking myself out any more than I already am, right?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)