Is it Friday yet?

Is it just me, or has this week seemed really super slow? I actually find it very hard to comprehend that it's only Wednesday. It just plain sucks to think hey, it's already Thursday and then booooo...nope, still Wednesday!

Not sure why this week is so bad. I mean, it's been crazy busy at work which makes the time go by quickly in a normal, regular, week. I didn't get home from a work event last night until after 11, hence the lack of blog post. Apologies, but I just didn't have it in me, ya know?

Today was also a busy day. Had a swank lunch with some great people who are involved with us. The lunch went really well, and I had a delicious piece of beef with blue cheese and roasted garlic. Yummmy! It's haunting me now though...stupid garlic. I just don't process the stuff very well. Good thing Hubs has no sense of smell!

That's enough on that subject.

So tomorrow's Thursday. I like Thursdays. They're paydays - at least every second one is, and thank all the stars in heaven tomorrow happens to be one of them. It's time to buy next month's GO passes as my November one ends, obviously, after Friday's trip home. The joy of December is that I get to buy ten ride passes as opposed to a monthly pass - 'cause I'm taking two weeks off for Christmas holidays, and I can't freakin wait! Don't need a pass to stay home!

And to even sweeten the deal, the lovely Camilla has offered me her TTC pass for December after her last week with us is done. And she won't take a penny for it, bless her London-bound heart. Here's for saving some much needed cash for the increasingly expensive holiday season!

Friday morning I'm going to see the fabulously talented David to get my coiffe updated. It's a shambles these days, so it's well overdue. I'm actually going to get it coloured too for the first time in a long time. I'm sick of seeing the gray hair every time I check myself out in the mirror. I will therefore take matters into my own hands and throw myself on the mercy of my hair dresser. He shall deliver, and I shall emerge with a fantastic new do.

It couldn't come at a better time either as Hubs' company Christmas party is this weekend. In London. Ontario, that is. But still...we now have to hoof down the highway for this fete that Hubs has yet to give me any salient details on! All I know is London. I don't know dress code, time it starts, where it is, what hotel we're staying at, nothing.

Uh, hello? How is any self respecting diva supposed to prepare to meet her husband's entire company for the first time without a stitch of information to go on? Sometimes I'm convinced men and women really are from different planets. In my world, we get details. We made decisions based on these details. For example, I have no idea whether I need a new party top to go with some elegant black pants (who needs an excuse to shop?) or if I should pull one of my holiday-esque dresses out of isolation and put them back into circulation? These things don't just happen overnight. Sheesh.

We have DeeDee with us this weekend, so Hubs will pick her up on Friday and we'll put our tree up while she's here. Then we'll take her to spend some quality time with her nana while we're on our trek to London for this mystery party, and pick her up Sunday morning. Gotta love Hubs' mom. For so many reasons, but she's so good with DeeDee. They have a great time together, and there's never a moment's hesitation if we ask her to help us out. They'll watch old movies, do some knitting, and just enjoy that intergenerational bonding.

So that's what's coming up in my world. Maybe that's why the week has seemed so long - not only has there been lots going on so far, but there's still so much more to come before the relaxin' can start. Sigh. 'Tis the season, I suppose.

Ho, ho, holy shit I'm tired already.

And that's our daily dash. How's your diva doin'?

Just another crampy Monday

Better than manic, I suppose, but what can you do?

Yes, I had another attempt at the whole babymaking thing on Sunday. Goodie for me. Only cost us $400 and a $60 parking ticket 'cause the idiots changed the parking rules on the street. I'm super pissed off - you have no flipping idea. I'm going to court over this one, that's for sure!

Anyway, rest of the weekend was good. Taco (Hubs' friend) was here for the weekend, so while they geeked out I did everything in my power to make myself scarce. Hung out with my mom and sister (and the new baby) on Friday night, went to lunch with the gals on Saturday, did some Christmas shopping, then met the boys at the movie theatre to catch No Country for Old Men.

Okay. I hadn't heard anything about this movie and, uh, I think that was good. I went along 'cause I'll almost never say no to a flick. Evidently it's time to rethink that rule.

The movie was...interesting. Very slow in parts, glacial actually, but the cinematography was incredible and what they didn't show you on screen was at times more compelling than what they did. The villain was terrifying, altogether too good at what he did, and damned near indestructible. Sinister, through and through. Tommy Lee Jones' character was very well written, but still...there were times when I was glancing furtively around looking for an object just sharp enough to begin the wrist slitting. Crazy how one film could waffle so much.

What was enjoyable was the fact that this is definitely a film that appeals (at least at 4:45 on a Saturday afternoon) to an older crowd. No 16 year old long haired emo kids out on the town with their junior punk posse, no. This was an adult flick with nothing remotely of interest to the under 18 crew. Which meant that there were no snickers, no giggling girls, no cell phones, no bright blue lights from same said cell phones as txt msgs came in, no barking out random words to make your vapid friends titter with laughter. The absence of all the above made just being there that much more enjoyable.

Sunday morning came too early. Up at six, at the clinic by 7:30, out for breakfast, back to the clinic for 10:30, home by after 12:30. Then it was straight to lunch at my sister's with my mom and two aunts, which I was able to enjoy for a relatively short time before the aforementioned cramping took hold full force. And hey - there are only so many cute baby presents being unwrapped by someone other than me these days that I can physically stomach.

Not that I begrudge her, but still. Not six hours before, I had a sperm filled catheter unceremoniously threaded through the tiny hole in my well hidden cervix in an attempt to get what she has. So you can imagine that I'd be a bit sensitive about all things baby at that particular moment. Or at least I hope you can. Otherwise I'm just a maladjusted, self-indulgent bitch who thinks about no one but herself. And I really don't want to be that girl.

Rest of the day the crampiness continued and by 8:30 I'd had enough. So I went to bed. I think I was anxious to get there not only because I felt like crap, but because I knew I had a freshly laundered, first time on the bed set of 450 thread count chocolate brown sheets to slip into, courtesy of that wonderful sister in law of mine.

I must say - chocolate brown sheets are super sexy. Not sure if that's just 'cause there's an automatic association in most female brains between sex and chocolate, but either way, they're luscious. I highly recommend you go out and get yourselves some. You can thank me later.

More cramps today, but nothing too earth shattering. Hope they pass.

And so to further that effort, 'tis time to bid you a fond farewell so I can slip upstairs and into those sexy sheets beside my probably-already-sleeping sexy husband. Not that he'll be feeling the power of the sheets.

Why not, you ask?

Two words: progesterone suppositories.

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?

Let's talk tv, shall we?

So yeah, I love my telly. No big surprise there. But wowie zowie has there been some great stuff on the small screen this week!

First - the Bachelor. Jeebus. Who ever expected him to not pick either one of them? WTF? Sorry if I've spoiled it for anyone, but hey - if you were really jonesed about it, you'd have found a way to watch it by now, so there. I laugh now, 'cause everyone is calling him this huge player that only wanted publicity for his bars. Wow, how quickly the tide of public opinion can turn!

I actually thought he was a pretty decent guy. He never really looked comfortable in his role as hot man stud dating 25 women but then again, who should? But to just dump both of them? After having such an apparently strong connection? That's right rough, yo. I mean, he totally could have dated either one of them. No need to dish out the bling, just go for ice cream or something. Sure did look to me like he had some kinda feelings for these girls...maybe that's just the magic of television.

Then last night was Private Practice. Anyone else really starting to love this show? The characters are so well written, the story lines are really starting to get juicy, and the Taye Diggs without a shirt sightings sure do keep me coming back for more! Yowza! He's some yummy.

I also find it interesting that they talk about infertility stuff. Not that I necessarily want my own challenges flashed back in my face, but still...there's something surprisingly reassuring about seeing it actually brought to the 'mainstream' on an increasingly popular prime time television show. Hubs thinks I'm crazy to continually subject myself to all the babies on the show but meh. Yeah, it sucks. But so does life sometimes. At least it's fake, and I know that. Life is all too real for me most days.

Then Grey's Anatomy tonight. Won't go into too much detail in case you haven't seen it, but generally speaking, watching that wife and her reaction to her hubby...I was in tears. So sad. Never used to react to things like that. Guess that's what happens when you actually love someone and can put yourself into that position all of the sudden.

And the ending! Again, won't ruin it, but man. That's the kinda of writing I've come to expect and has been sorely lacking over the past number of episodes. Can't wait for the next one...and to me, that's the sign of a danged good show.

Okay, so this hasn't been a very exciting post, but it's all I've got right now. I'm tired, I can't wait to get to bed, and I have to be up super early for another clinic appointment that, quite frankly, I'm terrified about, 'cause if things don't go well it might be the end of this cycle and $1,000 worth of fertility meds down the proverbial drain. I don't know about you, but I ain't got that kinda cash to flush. More on all that tomorrow.

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?

A diva sniffles...

Apologies again for my absence. Has been quite the few days. I've spent most of them behind a kleenex, attempting to de-snotify mineself. Good times, good times.

Yes, just after conquering the great labrynthitis outbreak of 2007, I have again succumbed to some type of bug and have now reached official status as mucous factory.

Sniff.

It all started Saturday night after I got home from a day of wedding dress shopping with the sisters in law. Not for me obviously, my time has come and gone, but Hubs' sister is recently engaged and she found an incredible dress that looks fantastic on her. My other sister in law (my Wonder Twin of all things wedding planning) and I did an excellent job in convincing her that the Maggie Sottero she fell in love with was indeed worth the cash.

She put her deposit down yesterday.

I was feeling fine all day, but as I said by evening, my throat was sore. I looked at Hubs and said, "I'm getting sick." He told me I had just finished being sick, and to go take some echinacea or something to try to ward it off.

Excellent suggestion, one which I normally would heed without a moment's thought. Except....I'm right in the middle of all these fertility drugs. And I still have the stupid cysts. AND I just finished a course of antibiotics. So I decided it was not worth pushing the envelope, and have, as such, suffered the full snotty wrath of this particular plague.

I blame the GO train. Damned tin can full of other sick people, all of us breathing in each other's sick people germs. I'm gonna start wearing a mask soon in an effort for one healthy day. I haven't even been able to get my flu shot yet - I haven't been un-sick enough to qualify!

Monday after work I came home and passed out. Tuesday night CJ and I went to a Leafs game, thanks to the generosity of one of the docs I work with who knows I love my boys in blue. He couldn't go, so thought of me. How awesome is he?

We were up in the greens and the boys lost to the Bruins, but it was still fun to take it all in and just be there in person. And with CJ moving two hours away from me in a few short weeks, I'll take any opportunity to catch up and hang out that I can get!

Today I stumbled into work late. I almost took the day as a sick day (and would have been well within my rights to do so, given how I felt) but seeing as I had an afternoon meeting and a retirement party to attend tonight, I compromised and spent the morning in bed, then headed off to work.

Hubs had a meeting at work that went late tonight so he was able to pick me up at Yorkdale so we could make our way home together. Well, his meeting ran late, so I was forced to spend some time shopping. Poor me. Got a few more things for Christmas, Hubs had some Unlucky Fried Kitten (also known as KFC around the food court) and we slowly made our trek home in the dreary rain.

Now it's just after 10:30 and we're both sooooo ready to hit the proverbial hay it's not even funny. I think it's a good idea to head to bed sooner rather than later, not only 'cause we're both exhausted, but because of all that snow we're supposed to get tonight and into tomorrow. We won't just be able to walk out the door and go - oh no. There will be shoveling and boot putting-on...all very time consuming activities. So if I want to function tomorrow and fight my way valliantly through the snow, I needs me sleep!

Now I know 10-15 cms isn't really a huge deal in the grand scheme of things, but it's the first real snow and people turn into stupid idiots the second some of the white stuff starts accumulating on the roads. Yippee.

So we've dug out our shovel, the boots, the mitts, the scarf and yes, should it be cold enough, my fuchsia pea coat is ready to make its triumphant return to my outerwear rotation.

Winter's here. Ugh. God help us all!

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?

One less stress...

So. In addition to working and trying to get pregnant and trying to lose weight and just living life, I also sit on the board of my professional association. 'Cause hey, who needs free time?

I actually really enjoy it - don't get me wrong - but I'm looking forward to next year where hopefully I'll get the coveted position of 'Member at Large'. Which means I still get to be involved, but don't have responsibility for a specific portfolio.

This year's portfolio came to and end for me today. I was the Chair of our association's annual awards luncheon, and thankfully everything went off with nary a hitch.

It was a somewhat strange volunteer experience, I will say that. The manager of our chapter is the one who really does all the nitty gritty to set up everything that goes into putting together a luncheon for over 1,100 people. I just got to be involved in the higher level creative work like coming up with a theme and choosing the creative. Writing the script and interacting with the local media celebrity that emceed the event. Approving the centrepieces. All that fun stuff.

It just felt weird to manage a committee that never really got much of anything to do! Now, I realize I'm a control freak and that yes, it is important to know what's going on, so I surprised even myself this time around with how much I just took for granted and assumed would get done. I understand now that this is called letting go...interesting concept. Fortunately I had great faith in the manager's ability to get things done and leave few stones unturned, but still...this is all new to me! And to my committee for that matter.

It was great to hear so many people congratulate me for a job well done. Lots of my colleagues were there and it was great to hear their whoops when my name was called. My ego loved all that stroking but man, I felt like the tiniest bit of a fraud. I really didn't do that much - why the hell should I get all the credit?

Anyway, I made sure to tell anyone who'd listen that it was C, the manager, who actually did the lion's share of the work. Sharing the accolades made me feel a bit better about the whole thing, so by the end of it I actually was quite proud with what we'd accomplished.

And so today I breathe a sigh of relief that November 15th has come and gone, and everything went smashingly well. I'm really proud of my team and how they functioned so well in a very strange situation. And as much as I enjoyed all the pats on the back, I can't even begin to tell you how much I'm looking forward to finally achieving that coveted status - Member at Large.

To my committee members if you're reading this - thanks again for everything. You made us all look so good today. And to Camilla who sees me and reads this everyday, thanks for coming along to support me. Looking forward our lunch at Swiss Chalet tomorrow.

Yeah, that's right. We've now got a Dirty Bird in our building. Jealous? Hell yeah. You should be. :)

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?

My love affair with polish

I'm going to stray from my usual rantings and ravings today. No talk (other than this mention, that is) of fertility issues, cysts, medication, clinic visits...none of it. Instead, I'd like to return to my diva roots, and discuss one of my greatest girlie pleasures - the manicure.

It all began almost six years ago. December 21, 2001 to be exact. JBJ and I decided that we needed to see each other more often AND we needed our nails done. Thus began a six year love affair of friendship and beautifully done nails that's still going strong. Hard to believe we're this close to celebrating yet another maniversary. Sniff...how the time does fly...

I remember the day like it was yesterday. I chose a lovely rich brown by Essie called Martini Cocoa, and thought it would look fab with the outfit I'd chosen to wear to my boss' Christmas party that evening. I was right. It looked smashing, and I got unfortunately smashed on martinis (the polish name foreshadowing what was to come? you bet) and ended up leaving the party a deux as opposed to by myself. Yes, I admit it. I went on a little bit of a trampage that night, thus ending a very very very long drought. And thus the pulling power of the manicure was born.

Let me just say at this point that yes, I had a surprisingly wild few years in my late 20's. I'm not talking sniffing coke in a club bathroom or hooking up with random strangers every weekend wild life, but this diva was no priss and enjoyed her Sex and the City lifestyle for a good period of time. I blame the mani's.

JBJ and I continued our every three to four week ritual with delight. We found a home in Spa Baby, a tiny but swish hole in the wall on Yonge Street, and we loved it there until the owner decided to close. We were sad. Very sad. We'd been cast adrift, and to this day have yet to replace them with a new mani home. Like I said, sad.

So the tides turned a bit. I became more of a spa whore, having one mani stands with a variety of spas throughout the city as I sought the perfect place, and became less of a real whore as I'd met my soon to be husband. 'Nuff said, I suppose.

My taste in polish shifted as well. Once an Essie snob because of my years of indoctrination at Spa Baby (they only used Essie), I soon discovered the world of OPI, and my colour options exploded.

Snaps to whatever brilliant marketing guru devised the entire concept of the OPI collections. How to make me covet not just my usual shades, but ones I'd never think of twice until they were stacked beside their collection counterparts. Genius, I say.

I wore A Rose by Dawn, Broke by Noon (seen at right for your viewing pleasure) for my wedding. Seems weird, I know - but I just couldn't see myself with the traditional french manicure. Just sooo not me, ya know? I'm such a pink girl and that often extends well into my nail polish wardrobe, so why should my wedding day be an exception? Exactly. And of course, JBJ was right there with my for my pre-wedding mani. Just wouldn't have had it any other way.


Now, I'm all about the Russian collection, and am eagerly awaiting my first purchase/gift (I know my familial secret santa is reading - take notes!!) from the new Holiday in Hollywood Collection. Those familiar with these darker colours and the surprising lack of pink contained therein may be shocked to see me publicly declare my love for these lines. But hey - times change, winter's coming, and dark colours are oh so in this season. Who am I to argue?


Take for example the beauty to my left, Siberian Nights from, you guessed it, the Russian Collection. Gorgeous. Love it. Am wearing it right now after re-doing my nails at home this evening. Had a mani a week and a half ago with JBJ (she braved the 'burbs and we recaptured the magic) and I brought this baby with me just in case they didn't have it in. But of course they had it, so it sat safely in my bag for the duration of the day. Unfortunately there are only so many touch ups you can do over time to chipped polish before you start baring a striking resemblance to a crack whore, so tonight it was clear that it was time to strip off the old and reapply the new.


The other colour from the Russian Collection that I love is An Affair in Red Square. Deep, lush reds are so hot right now, and make me feel surprisingly racy for something as seemingly simple as a nail polish. Oh how the fabulous have fallen....

I generally tend to stay away from any polish with a gold shimmer (all polishes I use must have the shimmer factor - flat polish makes my tiny nail beds look ridiculous) but I took a chance with this one and have never looked back.

Having regaled you for an insanely long time on something as truly inconsequential in the grand scheme of things as nail polish, let me leave you with my personal pics/faves from the new Holiday in Hollywood collection. Feel free to pay a visit to one of the happier sites on the web (in my somewhat warped world, that is) www.opi.com. Test out different polishes on their Studio page, and get a glimpse into the collections I've discussed and so much more.

So without further ado, here are my faves from the HiH 2007 collection:

Pretty at the Premiere

My Big Break

Who Are You Wearing

Call My M-agent-a

Gorgeous, no? All of them. I want them all. How sad is that? It's not enough that a I have a huge basket FULL of different nail polishes, now I need to add a minimum of four new ones to my own personal stash.

I wonder if there's a Nail Polish Anonymous meeting going on in a church basement somwhere nearby...

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?

Another amusement park of a day.

Let me first reassure you that the day ended much better than it began.

Cause it started off really freakin bad.

Really bad.

Remember me asking for cyst be gone vibes from you all? How I was hoping beyond hope for the stupid bugger(s) to be gone so we could just get on with things?

Yeah. Thanks, but I suppose the power of positive thinking, while appreciated by yours truly, doesn't actually remove cysts on this particular plane of reality.

So I still have my cyst. It's shrunk a bit, but it's still most certainly there. And I don't know if it got bored or lonely or what, but it recruited a friend to set up shop on the other side of the street, and I now have a new cyst in my left ovary. Funny - I was all off balance last week; guess my reproductive system was trying to settle the score on my behalf. Very nice. Downright kind.

I had a doctor that I'm not altogether fond of this morning and my opinion of him certainly didn't change. When I mentioned that if the cysts were there the plan was to aspirate, he looked stumped, and said no way, there were too many procedures already booked. Then, trying to cover his tracks, he said since it had shrunk, we'd check the blood work and go from there.

Riiiiiiiight. How conveeeeeeenient.

Sigh.

So from there, the 'plan', the one thread that was holding my sanity together, unraveled. Everything was once again up in the air and I had no idea what the hell was going to happen next. Awesome.

If my estrogen levels were high, they'd try to aspirate tomorrow. If they had space. Then they might be able to salvage the cycle, but no guarantees. If the estrogen was okay, then they might decide to not aspirate, but instead start me on the new medication.

Goodie. Gotta love uncertainty.

After getting changed I had to check in with the nurse to get my 'pen' for the new druggies. We went through the motions, figured it all out, then I asked some questions. The answers of course drove me to tears in an instant, and yet again I was a blubbering mess in the rundown exam room of my clinic.

As I said, fortunately the day ended better than it began.

Many hours later, I got the phone call I'd been waiting for and was told that the estrogen levels had dropped, so I was to go ahead with the meds and return to the clinic on Sunday for follow up. Ah, relief.

Relief mixed with apprehension - how the hell is there gonna be any room for follicles to grow if the 'hood is already populated with punk ass cysts? Ah well - bring on the ovarian gentrification. As soon as a Starbucks opens up in my womb I'll know all is moving in the right direction.

My eyeballs hurt from crying. I'm tired, tired, tired, 'cause I haven't slept well in days. And it's only Tuesday night - the weekend is sooo far away. Booo.

At least the evening was great. While the boys geeked out on my dining room table, I feasted on ribs and a baked potato with two of my similarly fertility challenged WB gals and had a delightful dinner. We topped it all off with a venti decaf non fat no whip no nutmeg eggnog latte...and the world was seriously looking up.

From there we descended upon Nat's place to watch last night's episode of The Bachelor. Kicked her poor hubby up to bed and we switched from gastronomical feasting to Brad Womack - a feast for the eyes. Yummy. Who needs dessert? I'll have a helping of Brad with a Brad coulis, served a la Brad mode. Delish!

I return home to see the boys have made their retreats, and Hubs is on speakerphone with Sludge. While he plays World of Warcraft (a new addition to the geek-dom). Phone right beside the computer speaker. Volume not turned down all that much. And she doesn't even react. Ugh.

Now it's 11:30 and my eyes are burning from the earlier crying as well as need for sleep. I will therefore listen to the calling of my eyes and make my way upstairs to my warm, comfy, inviting bed for what I hope will be a restful night's sleep. After the emotional ups and downs of this day, I kinda think I've earned it.

Lights out. This amusement park is closed for the day.

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?

Inching towards equilibrium

Finally starting to feel better - yippee! I can walk now, might even be able to drive! I even worked a full day and then some. That Fleming guy was a genius - penicillin is some seriously good shit, eh? My ears sure do think so!

And thank goodness. I must say, being off balance all the time really does take it's toll. Amazing the things we take for granted. Like standing upright. Humph. Who knew?

We had a pretty quiet weekend all things considered. Took it easy, hung out at home, did a bit of shopping. I was sad to miss my friend Jo's birthday party, but I just couldn't do it, didn't think it was a good idea to go gallivanting against doctor's orders (yes, I was expressly told not to gallivant). I was feeling relatively okay Saturday morning, but after even a few minutes out shopping, it came back with a vengeance. Blech.

Thankfully it's continually improved since then and I was able to put that full day in today. Too bad I didn't sleep well last night, but I guess you can't have everything!

Tomorrow morning it's back to the clinic for the next kick at the baby making can. I need all the cysts-be-gone vibes I can get, 'cause if they're still there, the little buggers will have to be aspirated. Now I don't know about you, but having a large probing needle unceremoniously poked through the oh-so-fragile wall of my vijayjay does not sound like a fun way to spend part of my Tuesday. Especially if they have to give me the good loopy juice as sedation, 'cause then I have go go straight home after it's done. All for a pesky little cyst or two. Sounds kinda crazy, no? Stupid ovaries.

So cross your fingers for me, will ya? I'd rather stay at work all day long and avoid the whole 'twilight sedation' - now there's a euphemism for ya - thing if I possibly can. I'd really like to get this show back on the road, especially since we've been sidetracked for so freaking long. Not too much to ask for, I'd say.

I'm actually surprisingly optimistic about this go 'round. Maybe it's because we'll be using new drugs that are designed to make me produce more than one egg. Maybe because it's been so freakin long I'll take just about anything. Maybe it's because my sister has had her baby and while it's still painful, who's kidding who, the whole pregnancy thing is over and it's not a constant reminder of what I can't do. Hell - maybe it's because I'm finally able to walk a straight line and my expectations of the universe have decreased accordingly.

Whatever it is, I'll take it. And hopefully this time, whatever it is we do will take and I'll be expecting an August baby. 'Cause according to those silly due date calculator things, if we do get pregnant this cycle, our wee one would be due six days before my birthday. And I can't imagine a better pre-35th birthday present than that!

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?

Still dizzy after all these years...

Amazing how just about anything can call to mind a Simon and Garfunkel tune...

Thankfully it hasn't been years that I've been dizzy, but it sure as shit does feel like it. Sigh.

Stayed home from work today and ventured back to the walk in clinic for further medical investigation. Since they told me on Sunday that the meds they'd given me should make me feel right as rain in two to three days, once that time period was up and I was still feeling as shitty as snow I wasted no time in returning.

Sure enough, it's gotten worse. Much worse, actually. Balance is even crappier and now I have pain and a constant whooshing sound in my ears. Goodie!

Apparently the technical term for what I'm dealing with is labyrinthitis. And here's your dose of medical information for the day:

Labyrinthitis Overview http://www.emedicinehealth.com/labyrinthitis/article_em.htm

Labyrinthitis means an inflammation of the inner ear structure called the labyrinth. Sometimes the term labyrinthitis refers to other causes of inner ear problems that have no inflammation because those problems produce similar symptoms.

• You have a labyrinth in each of your inner ears, encased in thick bone near the base of your skull. As the name implies, the labyrinth is a maze of interconnected fluid-filled channels and canals. Half of the labyrinth, the cochlea, is shaped like a snail’s shell. It sends information about sounds to the brain. The other half looks something like a gyroscope with 3 semicircular canals connected to an open cavern or vestibule. The vestibule portion of the labyrinth sends information to the brain regarding the position and movement of your head. Any disturbance of the vestibule can lead to faulty information going to your brain.
  
  
• Your eyes also send positioning information to your brain. When information from the labyrinth and the eyes don’t match, the brain has trouble interpreting what is happening. This misinterpreting often leads to a sensation that you are spinning (vertigo) or a feeling that you are moving when in fact you are remaining still. Feelings of motion sickness (nausea and vomiting) often follow. Sometimes you will experience hearing loss or abnormal sounds such as a high- or low-pitched ringing (tinnitus).

Thanks to a comment on my previous post regarding the potential of my issue being vertigo. I clicked on the link and found more info based on what the doctor today told me I had.

So yep, the above pretty much sums up the past six days of my life. Who wants to be me? Come on, I know you do!!!!

After the lovely trip to the doctor's office and the procuring of penicillin that will hopefully knock the snot out of this infection, I came home and watched Sicko. Apropos, I thought. Have you seen it? Wow, all I have to say is wow.

Now, I take everything Michael Moore has to say with a grain of salt. I love what he does, but I'm educated enough to realize that clever editing and juxtaposition of timelines can make great film and tell pretty much whatever tale you want told.

But wow - was I ever grateful to be Canadian after watching that film. Not that I wasn't before it graced my television screen but still...as someone who had only a few hours before seen a doctor and left without paying a cent, I can most certainly appreciate what we have. Yes, there can be long lines and yes, it's not perfect, but I'll take our system over an HMO each and every day.

Well, that's pretty much all that's gone on in my day. I went to the doctor, watched the movie, had a nap, watched Gossip Girl, had another nap, had dinner, watched Heroes and Toy Soliders (great flick), blogged and soon I'm off to bed. Back to work tomorrow despite my mother's protestations to the contrary. She wants me to take the rest of the week off, but that's just not reasonable, ya know? I wouldn't mind it either but there's stuff to do, people to see, all that jazz.

And on that note, I bid you adieu. Hopefully the next time I write the drugs will have kicked in and my world will be a bit more stable. And I'll find something way more interesting to write about than my inner ear!!!

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?

One dizzy diva

That's me! One dizzy diva. I tell ya - if it's not one thing these days, it's another.

I have some sort of ear thing going on and it's knocked me totally off kilter. And I'm not exaggerating...I often kinda fall down and have to use the walls for guidance thanks to the fiesta in my ears these days.

Getting to work today was fun. On an ordinary day, it's really not that big a deal. Hubs drops me off at the station, I take the stairs down into the tunnel, then the escalator up to the platform. I ride the train. I take three flights of stairs down from the train, am herded along like common cattle with my fellow commuters into the TTC station, I put in my fare, walk down a flight of stairs, and board the subway.

Four stops later it's another escalator ride, some more stairs, another escalator, some stairs down into Tim Hortons, wait for coffee, walk outside to get back into building, take elevator up to my floor.

That is my route from car to desk. Not too challenging, really.

Now, imagine doing those ups and downs with no depth perception, and very little in the way of balance. You're holding on to railings for dear life, cautiously optimistic that this flight of stairs will not be your undoing, that you won't be sent ass over teakettle in front of thousands of people so blinded by their own destination that they'd only hesitate to step around you as opposed to helping you get up.

Imagine negotiating escalators...moving slabs of metal with death claws just waiting to latch on to the hem of your pant leg and drag you down, down, down with one false move.

Good times, eh? That was my morning.

The rest of the day held further buckets of fun. My colleagues looking at me funny as I held on to the wall as I walked down the hall or suddenly began to careen sideways whilst attempting to walk a straight line. Sucks the cool right out of ya, I tell you what.

This all started on Friday, and at the time I chalked it up to an elongated period of adjustment to my new glasses. I ignored the whooshing in my ears and the fact that I walked a very jagged line to actually arrive at my ensuite bath that morning.

When it hadn't gone away on Saturday, I started wondering what was up. I had some driving to do during the day (JBJ came out to see me and we had a great day - Starbucks, manicures, lunch...very diva-esque) and while I was okay for the majority of the day, once I got home and sat down I realized that uh, yeah. No more driving for me until this all gets worked out!

Sunday it was increasingly worse, so I sucked it up and headed to the walk in clinic. An hour and twenty minutes later I finally had three minutes and 47 seconds with a doctor who looked at my ears and gave me the Gravol equivalent for dizziness. Told me to come back in two to three days if they didn't work, and then we'd talk antibiotics.

Well guess what? The dizzy Gravol's don't do shit.

I've taken them for well over 36 hours now and no improvement. In fact, I think it's just getting worse. Sigh... As much as I really loathe to take antibiotics unless I truly need them ('cause I have an underlying condition that, should it flare up again, can only be cured by the strong stuff, therefore I have a vested interest in not developing that resistance) it looks like this time, I might truly need them.

Everything is hard to do when you can't quite focus and have this omnipresent white noise in your ears! I'm not sick in any other way - no sniffles, no headaches, no congestion, no coughing - so I feel somewhat guilty for leaving work early because I can't do it any more. I left around 2 today and did some work from home once I got here, but man...amazing the stupid stunts your freaking ears can pull on you.

Let that be a lesson to you all then. Love your ears. Be kind to your ears. Never take your ears for granted. 'Cause when the little bastards decide it's time to wreak havoc with your body, you're gonna stumble, fall, and look drunk and stuff.

No fair. I'm all limbs akimbo without a drop of booze. That just ain't right!

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?

Sister = 2, Me = 0

That's right - my sister now has two kids and I still have none.

Little Maddy was born today and thankfully, it didn't hurt as much as I thought it might. Thank goodness for small miracles.

In fact, I had more of a breakdown after Halloween yesterday than I did after seeing my new baby niece. I was fine all through the trick or treating...scores of cute little buggers came to my house, I gave them candy, oooohed and ahhhhed, and survived...but then I brought the pumpkin in, sat it on the counter, and said to Hubs, 'I hope we have a cute little one to dress up by next Halloween'.

Cue tears. That was it for me.

So you can imagine my surprise at not having shed a single salt laden droplet at today's arrival. Even I am taken aback at my ability to cope. Who knew.

A number of people have told me that seeing pregnant women, especially those close to you, is often harder than dealing with the babies themselves. I'd hoped that was true, 'cause for me it sure as shit sucked seeing my sister pregnant when I wasn't. Wasn't even close to being knocked up!

But now that she's born, I think things have changed, at least I hope they have if today's any indication.

Apparently she has my nose. Not sure how I feel about that. In many respects, I think I'd be a little happier if the kid looked nothing like me. But now that I know she has my nose, I could totally get away with snatching her and raising her as my own. Nah...November 1 already had one Amber Alert...I'd hate to be responsible for two in one day, so I'll leave her where she is.

My darling husband went all ESP on me and somehow knew that I'd need comfort food today. He threw a bunch of stuff into the crock pot this morning and voila! When we got home from the hospital, there was a fantastic pot roast just waiting for us! Yet again, I'm upstaged in the domestic arena by my husband. I think I could get used to this. Oh wait - I already am.

Great dinner cooked for me, clean house to come home to (oh yeah - we're done with Molly Maid. We gave them a second chance, but they vacuumed up our dining room curtains and pulled the curtain rod clear out of the wall. Strike three - you're out!!!), then I met up with Nat and we hit the DQ. As freezing as it was outside, we decided to brave the elements in search of frosty treats to act as a soothing balm for our challenging days. How wonderful to have both her and the DQ so close by.

So a pretty big day in divaland. Welcome little Maddy - hope to make you a cousin or two in the next few months.

And that's your daily dash. How's your diva doin'?