It's not my favorite. Thank you.

I was bending over charlie, trying to buckle his car seat into the car with him in it. My boobs were hanging in his face, and he didn't like it. He kept pushing them away and it felt the same as when he refused to nurse. He would just lay there and push my boob away and then he'd roll over and try to crawl away as quickly as he could. This incident brought all those emotions back to the surface and my heart was breaking all over again. I really miss it, that time, that feeling, my baby.
He's not my baby anymore, you know.

You're invited!

So I don't know why the last post was saved as a draft and never posted. I'll add it to my list of complaints at my pity party, which by they way, you're invited to.
Charlie wasn't done being sick. It came back and so we went back to the doctor. He had lost even more weight! They finally gave him something for nausea and had a plan for if he didn't improve. He did get better, thank the Lord!, because I didn't want him to get poked and prodded, but I didn't want him to waste away into nothing.
I am not doing as well. My never ending bleeding, has turned painful instead of just bothersome and an u/s showed that I have two cysts on my ovary and one on my cervix and abnormal endometrium that's also twice as thick as it should be. I'm a little scared but mostly just anxious for them to get the bleeding to stop. I'm so tired that I think I could just fall over or blow away in the wind, which if you've ever seen me, you know would not be very easy!
The house hunting is hard when we are on duty. We narrowed our search in town down to four houses and Chuck and my dad went and checked them out tonight. The one we really loved, which we knew we probably couldn't have, does need too much work. The white one that seemed like a safe pick to me, has a lot of problems that they've covered up. The other safe one is safe but has small rooms. My dad thinks we should go with the one that needs some work, but is pretty big. The real estate agent even thinks they will take 5% less, which when you're talking about 100k is a lot of money.
That's where we're at. I'm getting a migraine, probably from dehydration and the blood loss, we're starting to pack, I have a river running through me, charlie is on the mend and gaining weight, and that's about it.
Thanks for coming to my party.
Maybe you'll get another invite soon!

I'm Building an Arc. Want on?

Life just always has more. We think we can't take any more or that there couldn't possibly be anything else thrown at us. But it comes. In buckets, in torrents, crashing down on us, wearing us down, molding us into different people.
I went to therapy a few weeks ago. Actually had the nerve to tell my therapist that I was feeling confident enough to report Scary Doctor to the State. Told him I felt confident about MIL moving in with us for a while. I was gearing up for vacation and so excited to go! Chuck and I had hammered out a plan to be out of credit card debt in a year so we could buy a home. Hah!
I shouldn't be so sarcastic. Maybe I actually did feel that confident and it wasn't just a dillusion.
But later that night (I don't know why things always happen the day I see my therapist), I ran into said Scarey Doctor and spent the next three days obsessively repeating "why did I have to see him again?" The emphasis changed from see, to I, to him, to again. I really didn't want to be me. I didn't want to have seen him. Especially not ever again. Don't want to think that it could happen again. My hands are shaking now just thinking of living in the same town as him for the rest of my life.
MIL's surgery went well. The day of her surgery, however, I ate a purple cow. A purple cow is a float with vanilla icecream and grape soda. This would not normally be a noteworthy event, but I have food dye allergies and appearantly Shasta does not label their sodas appropriately. I got a bad migraine, which also is not normally a unussual event in my life, but I hadn't had one in four weeks. This meant that I had not used my medicine for it in four weeks.
For a little background on my health, I'm allergic...to everything...especially if it can even remotely treat pain. Stadol, morphine, demerol, percocet, darvocet, dilaudid, codeine, ultram, toradol, reglan, compizine, anything else that sounds magically delicious in the throws of a terrible migraine.
Well, so far, I had not been allergic to Buprenex. I had some mild itching, but nothing serious. So my doctor had it compounded into a nasal spray since it only comes in an injection.
So we're up to the purple cow. It was yummy. The migraine was instantanious. I used the nasal spray. It felt like it hadn't sprayed so I used it again because I could used two sprays anyway (I just normally didn't). My sinuses started to burn. I tried to lay down, which just made the medicine drain back and down my throat. Chuck was trying to sleep but I kept telling him how bad it hurt. Then the itching started. Not the normal I-just-had-a-powerful-narcotic-itchy nose. It was head to toe insanity. I had to get up and pace the building.
I kept thinking that it would start to wear off, but it just kept getting worse. Every hour, I'd say "this is the worst of it" but every hour I was proved wrong. I finally wet a washcloth to rub with so I would stop scratching with my nails and I broke into the office downstairs and stole a backscratcher. After four or five hours, I called the pharmacy. They informed me that itching with this particular medicine was a very serious reaction and to get to the emergency room. My dad was going to work anyway so I just hitched a ride from him. The ER gave me a shot, steroids, and some other pills. They gave me a prescription for all the meds they had given me. The shot also comes in a pill. Anyway. If I didn't take the shot one every six hours on the dot I got the most horrible rebound migraine and the ithcing came back. So, I was supposed be leaving on vacation. I planned to stop the medication over the weekend and go to the ER to get the rebound migraine stopped and then leave for AR. This disaster could still be salvaged. Well I got a horrible migraine anyways so just went ahead and stopped the other med. Went to the treatment center where there was a ton of drama that I won't even take the time to type about and a little I will. They couldn't get an IV. They ended up putting a infant line in my index finger. It took forever to run the meds, which didn't work but they didn't want to wake the doctor. So they called him again in the morning and gave me a different med. It worked and I went home. Charlie appearantly got the flu while I was gone. Chuck and Donna had been up all night with him.
The migraine came back. We delayed the trip another day. Charlie was seeming better. But he got worse again and I still had a migraine so my mom went without me.
I cried.
A lot.
But I figured it was meant to be. Finally, after five days, I took charlie to the doctor. Had to see "katie". I HATE "katie". But it was her or a stranger, who I could possibly hate. So I gave in. She said to keep doing what we were doing which was clear liquids forever and then slowly introducing food. My Lord! It was awful. One time we went twelve hours on clear liquids, 36 another, then 48. But everytime we'd give him solids he would loose it and vomit and vomit and vomit. I had no idea a little kid could hold so much.
So my doctor called in more steroids and upped my meds and the migraine cycle finally stopped. But...oh, yes...it just keeps coming!...
Although no one else got what ever charlie had, the steroids finally weakened my immune system enough that I got the flu, too. I had a lovely round with that and dehydration, which always gives me the greatest migraine. By greatest, I mean awful.
So in the worst of that, the boss man here at the retirement center asked to meet with us. I told him I had the flu, but I don't think he cared much. So he starts off telling us how great we're doing. So I hand him a list of all the things that have been wrong around here lately. He looks it over. Then, he tells us they are going in a different direction and are having the maintainance man also move in and be the resident manager. So we have to leave. He actually wanted us to leave in 30 days. I said absolutely not. My therapist would be so proud of my assertiveness. I think if we have to give them two months notice that they should have to do the same.
It turns out that the maintainance man was also the evil boss lady's son in law. Surprise, surprise. (I'm being sarcastic again.) So, you can put two and two together.
Anyway, so now we're homeless in one to two months. We've been scrambling to meet with mortgage people and a real estate agent.
Charlie and I are better. That's great.
Donna healed quickly, too. She was home within a week of the surgery and even drove down to MO to stay with her cousing for a while. That's really great!
So, that's where we're at. We're trying to hold up under the down pour.
I'm actually really okay with all of this. I feel completely comfortable that everything is going to work out with the whole finding a place situation. The only thing that is completely stressing me out is the migraines. I don't have much I can take and it leaves me feeling panicky.
Well, I have to get back to building. The water's rising fast.