Third time, she ain't no charm

Howdy y'all.

I'm tired today. My eyes are puffy since I did me a good deal o' cryin'. With all we've been through, I figure I'm about due a sad country song all my own. Guess that's where the twang comes from. The title of my song? Third time, she ain't no charm. It's got number 1 written all over it, ain't it?

Yep, IUI #3 failed. Officially. Nail in the coffin of my last chance to have a baby before I'm 35.

How much fun is it to be around me today?

Sigh...

Actually, I knew it was coming, so it wasn't as bad as it's been in the past when my little friend hope was actually in the picture. I had almost none of it this time which meant I didn't have as far to fall.

Then I got on the phone with my fertility clinic, and thus began what will go down in the annals of history as the shitstorm of December 10.

So. I knew I was taking a break this cycle. I would normally go for the IUI on day 15. Today is day 1. Today is December 10. So add 15 days to December 10 and it's not rocket surgery to determine there will be no IUI on December 25th. Okay, fine.

BUT...I now officially hate my clinic. I'm leaving. I've had enough.

So yes. Taking a break this cycle. My choice. Good. I still wanted to do day 3 monitoring so I could check on my cyst. When the nurse called with my beta result (negative, of course) and to book the appointment she said okay, and we booked.

Then she called back and said she's canceled my appointment because I won't be doing a cycle and since it's not full cycle monitoring, they can't bill OHIP for the bloodwork and ultrasound. I'm supposed to call back on day 1 of my next cycle in January and they'll check for the cyst then, aspirate then if they have to.



The whole point of this being a rest cycle (in my mind anyway) was to get rid of the cyst and let my body rest, cyst free. So my hormones could take a breather, and all should be better so we can move on in January.

Nope. They won't do it.

Then get this. She told me I should relax for the holidays and give my body a rest from all the hormones. That being relaxed will help me get pregnant. That I'm still young and have lots of time. And have I tried anything else? Like acupuncture? That a rest is good and I should investigate and learn about every option available to me.



Condescending much? Now I realize that this may sound like sage advice to those of you reading right now who are not facing/have not faced fertility challenges. But let me assure you - the things she said to me pretty much round out the top five most annoying things you can say to a person experiencing infertility. Take notes. Remember these words. And NEVER utter them to a friend or family member who's having trouble conceiving. You have no idea how much it will be appreciated.

Yes, I lost it. I told her that if they have actually convinced themselves that they're thinking about what's in the patient's best interests, they're sadly mistaken. And you know what she said? Since you've been so unhappy here, maybe you need to look for a new clinic. I know this is convenient because you work in the building, but maybe you need to go somewhere else.



Trouble is - she's so right. It just took me this long to see it.

Why would I stay there when they treat me like crap? And I pay for the fun of it all? I think location be damned...it's time to try somewhere new. I told her I was astounded that she'd actually suggest that, that her supervisors probably wouldn't be too happy to hear her saying such things. I also explained that there are some serious patient satisfaction issues there, and that I'm not the only one who is dissatisfied and considering leaving. I told her that they have a long way to go in improving things, and I wasn't going to be their guinea pig any longer. I've emailed a colleague and asked her for another suggestion. I'm ready to get the hell outta there.

Sigh.

As if having Aunt Flo show up (early) on my doorstep wasn't bad enough. Now I have to deal with another month of uncertainty and no progress.

And have I mentioned this was my last chance to have a baby before I turn 35? One more milestone crossed. Lucky me.

So that was my shit-astic day in a nutshell. The good news is that it's over and done with, and I'm starting to feel a sense of calm about a new beginning. It'll suck to lose the convenience, but it will rock to get some of my emotional stability back.

Hell yeah.

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

No one puts Baby in a corner.

Such a classic line from a classic cinematic gem of the 80's.

Yes, Dirty Dancing will always hold a special place in my heart. It, along with La Bamba, was the first movie we ever rented to be played on our sassy new Betamax VCR. Not a rental - we owned that puppy. In fact, my parents still have it somewhere in their house. Must be worth something these days for the nostalgia buffs...but I digress.

It was the film that made everyone fall in love with Patrick Swaze and long to go on summer vacations to resorts with their parents. You felt the anguish of Jerry Orbach's disappointment when Baby let him down. You felt the flash point chemistry between Patrick and pre-nose-job Jennifer Grey. You learned all the words to Hungry Eyes and She's Like the Wind and tried to dance like the Kellerman's staffers in your parent's basement during sleepovers.

Well okay, maybe that last part was just us, but you get the point.

So why am I talking about this decades (yep, 20 years!!) after the movie was released? Because I went to see the stage production last night (hence no blog post - got home after midnight) and I had the time of my life. Pretty much.

CJ had bought tickets for us to go for my birthday which was a fantastic gift. We picked the date in August and she booked the tickets not knowing that three days after the show, she'd be packing up and moving 200kms away. Excellent timing on her part as it gave us a chance to hang out one last time before she's gone.

Now, I think we can all agree that the show is inherently cheesy. Part of its charm, really. At least it's the good cheese, and not the festering, smells like dirty socks cheese. We can all take comfort in that. So despite everything, I was actually okay with the cheese quotient in last night's performance.

The problem? It's not Patrick Swaze or Jennifer Grey up there. I've seen the movie so many times that it's impossible not to project the screen actors onto their stage counterparts - and only be disappointed when they simply can't measure up. So you really have to let yourself go with this one, enjoy it for what it is, and sit back, relax, and relish a nicely cut boy in tight pants with or without his shirt on. Yum.

The acting was...okay. A bit too much enunciation for my liking, especially for a casual offering. But that's the musical theatre snob in me. The dancing was fantastic, how could it not be, and the singing was actually quite good as well. Canadian Idol Melissa O'Neill had a featured singing role and I was very pleased that my original (positive) impression of her was affirmed when seeing her in person. That girl has some serious pipes! Good on ya!

From a vocal perspective, the real star of the show was the male vocal lead, who also played Johnny's cousin (you know, the guy that she took a watermelon from?). Dag, can that boy sing. Sweet holy shit he's talented. And that's some high praise coming from me 'cause I really rake them over the coals when I go to the theeeaatahhhh.

Best part of the entire show was the ending. And I don't say that in a tongue in cheek kinda way, I sincerely mean it. That dance number at the end, the one that begins right after that famous line in this post's title is uttered, was incredibly well done. The air was electric - seriously! Everyone was chair dancing and trying not to sing along, but failing. Very cool, very cool indeed.

Cue applause, everyone bows, and the music keeps playing. I throw on my coat, clap myself out of the theatre, say a quick but somehow meaningful goodbye and good luck to CJ, then I make a run for the subway so as to ensure I catch my GO train home. Which I did - fret not.

And to complete the streak of good things, I had a wonderful lunch with one of our people today, had not one but TWO Starbucks lattes (yee haw!) and got to finally catch up on Heroes and Private Practice since my flippin week had been so busy. Now I'm shuffling off to bed 'cause I'm tired but wait - I don't have to get up early tomorrow morning!

That's right, I took the day off. I plan on sleeping late, wrapping Christmas presents, watching trashy tv, and hanging out in my pj's until about 6pm. I'm desperate to just get some rest and hopefully get this freakin cold out of my system once and for all.

Sorry to those of you that have to trudge off to work tomorrow - I'm not trying to rub it in or anything. I'll think of you all as you're heading to the office...if I happen to be awake around that time.

Enjoy!!!

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

You'll never believe it...

I'm getting sick again.

Yes, you read that right. I can't freaking believe it. I finally got over the last one, and here I am again, riding the express train to Snotsville. Sucks.

I can't make it a long entry tonight 'cause, well, I have nothing left in the tank. Except snot, that is.

So, to recap the past few days. As you well know, Hubs' Christmas party was this weekend and since I'm sure you were all concerned, I am pleased to tell you that I did manage to solve my wardrobe crisis at 10:30 am on Saturday morning. We left at noon. Phew!

I found a very festive holiday top that hides almost all of my figure flaws (no small feat), paired it with an existing slimming black skirt and some fab black pumps and I was the belle of the ball. Well, not really, but I felt pretty darned good and that's a big thing for me! So yay me.

The two and a half hour drive home turned into four hours thanks to the wrath of Mother Nature. We picked DeeDee up at her Nana's place, then came home to find that my stepbrother and sister in law were in town and stranded temporarily as the windshield wiper motor on their car went. Can't get home in this weather without wipers!

So we put them up chez nous as there was no room in the sisterly inn. It was nice to have them here - they're good folk and I always like showing off the house.

Got up this morning and our town was transformed into a skating rink.

I don't skate.

Hubs was supposed to take DeeDee back to her mom's in time for school, but that was put on hold until the salters and sanders had their wicked way with the icy roads. We tried to leave, but one step out there and I knew I was going to have a tough time making traction. Into the house we returned, made breakfast, and waited it out.

I finally made it to work just before noon and proceeded to get a bunch of stuff done. Managed to stay in touch while I was on the train as always, thanks to my sassy new BlackBerry. I had one before, but it was neither sassy nor new, hence why this one bears mention. She's so pretty. I just love looking at her... Hey, cut me some slack. If I can't have a baby I at least deserve to make ga ga noises about my beloved Crackie.

Got home from work and knew that another bout of this season's finest virus was taking up residence yet again. No rest for the wicked however - I had a project I needed to complete and it took hours. From the time I got home at 6 to 10pm. I am very pleased with the end result, and am downright elated that it's done.

Which brings me to right now. I'm sniffly, I'm sore all over, and I'm just downright exhausted. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to haul my post-nasal-dripping carcass up our stairs and straight into those luscious chocolate brown sheets. Nighty nite all!

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