Who's the Boss?

 Chocolate and salt?  Check.

Lethargy?  Check.

The Thursday Tinkle Tally

I'm quite legendary for the amount of tinkle breaks I take during the day (I've even been tested for a condition, which luckily came back negative).  I knew my current job was a keeper when they gave me the office right next door to the bathroom.  My problems with frequent urination are 3-fold:

1. I consume A LOT of beverages during the day.
2. I apparently have a small bladder, with a fold in it (the former is suspected, the latter is confirmed by a doctor).
3. When The Beast is fired up, it puts extra pressure on my bladder.

I have been threatening for awhile now to keep a tally of how many times I go during the day.  I really should do it again on day 1 or 2 of my period because it is much higher.  But here are today's findings, which I will update again tomorrow to include tonight at home.

It is 3:30 pm, and I am headed to pee for the 6th time today (1x time at home, 5x at work).

I forgot to really pay attention last night, but I think I went an additional 3 to 4 times at home.  So, I'm calling the final Thursday Tinkle Tally = 10.

I Don't Stand a Chance

When I say "Tater," you say "Log."

TATER!










LOG!











TATER!











LOG!









I complied by eating 2 tater logs - one for each of them.

Let's Get This Party Started

This is my time to shine!

I'm partying like a rock star!













You just wait.

Next month, it's my turn to be line leader!

Challenge Issued, Challenge Answered

Ladies and gentlemen, meet the first draft of the Twin Orbs of Evil:
And the illustrator, Angie:
I have quite the schemes in my head to make Angie and I rich off this idea, starting with t-shirts and ending with selling the rights (for lots of $$, of course) to a maxi pad company! HAHAHA!

Twin Orbs of Evil (to be Trademarked)

Wanted: An illustrator who would like to work with me on a comic strip. The series is to be title, "Twin Orbs of Evil." The characters are my ovaries. In my head they look like (chicken/grocery store) eggs with stick arms and legs and Daisy Duck-ish high heels. They each wear a cape and have an insignia on their chests. One has a "R" (for right ovary) and one has a "L" (obviously for left ovary). They also either wear Zorro-ish masks or cat eye sunglasses. One wears purple and one wears pink (cape, heels, glasses/mask and insignia).

And no, I am not joking. Seriously seeking inquiries.

Oh yeah! I remember you!

Sure signs that I've returned to the Atrocious Land of PMS:

• Lower abdominal pain aka The Beast Has Awoken
• Going to bed at 9 pm three straight nights b/c I'm completely exhausted for no reason even though I've been consistently taking vitamins, drinking water, and taking better care of myself in general
• Going from tracking my calories to 4 hours later consuming an entire box of Crunch 'n Munch in one sitting, and then following it up with a snack size bag of Cool Ranch Doritos
• Taking 1/2 a Lortab every other night

My body is now engaged in a war of the mini-pill battling the endo beast in a post-Lupron environment, resulting in a guessing game of when the most unwelcome visitor of all will return.

Next time, Emily, the correct answer is, "Yes, sign me up for the hysterectomy!"

Ding, Dong, the Lupron's Gone!

I successfully completed 5 months of Lupron treatment. I decided not to do the 6th month since the shot went up considerably ($) in the new year and because I had a follow-up visit on the same day as I would have taken the 6th shot. Final tally: 2 irrational crying spells and lots of hot flashes. Not too shabby.

On the flip side of the coin, THE BEAST HAS AWOKEN, and the countdown has begun to the return of the awful. I was explaining to Doug how I could already feel the different badness components, and he asked me how it differed from the Lupron. Here is what I've decided.

Lupron is like emotions/symptoms in a vaccum -- isolated and therefore stronger. But each one pretty much takes its own turn. A period of crying. Six weeks of brutal hot flashes. It's like being loyal to one kind of alcohol, but drinking lots of it.

PMS, on the other hand, is like what stupid boys concoct on Spring Break -- a cooler full of all the leftover alcohol that should never be mixed. A guzzle of bitchy, a shot of depression, a jigger of crying, a slug of bloated, and half a fifth of pelvic pain, all combined with a pretty swizzle stick and chugged through a funnel.

My chocolate intake from this point on will be listed under medicinal.

No Sleep for the Anesthetized

Emily vs needles: 0 to Infinity
Emily vs anesthesia: 2 to 0

I had my second laparoscopy last week to remove some of the raging demon also known as endometriosis. I had my first one in 2005 under the supervision of an idiot who I no longer see nor can I speak of without using the word idiot or multiple expletives. Apparently self diagnosis wasn't enough for that moron...surgery for the sake of diagnosis without removal...he was quite the doc. Anyhoo, now that I see THE MAN (read with Heavenly choir accompanying) I had a lap the correct way. And just like last time, as soon as they brought me back from recovery, Hello! I'm awake! I did not sleep the rest of the day. I even had trouble sleeping that night. Doc tried to tell me I wouldn't remember what he was telling me before they released me. Wrong-o. Apparently there is some revenge in the world. If I have to be the world's biggest fainter, at least I also get to be a hoss when it comes to anesthesia. My walk now contains an egotistical swagger.

The Endo Army Marches On

Disclaimer: This entry contains details about my endometriosis. If you don't want to hear such details, don't keep reading!

(cue music from The Ants Go Marching; if you need assistance, check out this link: http://kids.niehs.nih.gov/lyrics/antsgo.htm)

The Endo Army Marches On

The endo goes marching through my tum(my), pressure, pressure
The endo goes marching through my tum, pressure, pressure
The endo goes marching through my tum,
It captured my bladder and now I run
And I just keep taking different pills
But the disease just marches on, PAIN! PAIN! PAIN!

The first time I heard a doctor refer to it as a disease, I was offended. Then later, I was like, "Yeah, spread that around. I'm not a wienie who has no pain tolerance as many think. In fact, my pain tolerance is quite good. I HAVE A DISEASE. AN INCURABLE DISEASE." A disease which is driving me nutso nutso, yet again. Guess what that means! Volunteering for a second laparoscopy. And you know what? I'm crazy enough to want the pictures from #2 to compare to #1, and I would really like to hear my doc say, "Whoa, that's a lot of spread; no wonder you are in such pain." I then I will look around smugly. So hopefully pretty soon I will be saying, "Burn, baby, burn!"