Are you pregnant?

How come whenever you are of childbearing years and sick, people immediately ask, "Are you pregnant?" And then followed by, "Are you sure?" Believe me, I'm sure. Do you want the details or something? Plus, if I were, my baby would be scrambled from an MRI, CT scan, and antibiotics (there I go again sounding like a hypochondriac). My baby would literally be over-easy. Ugh.

I actually find it pretty funny that people ask me, because most people know of The Plan (i.e. house, pay down debt, maybe a new car, a trip abroad, read all the books on New York Times' best-seller list perhaps). Also, unlike most people who can whilly nilly decide to have a kid (you know who you are), there's some planning that has to take place for me. First, I have to switch medications, which involves a very painful switch to a once-a-day shot. I'm holding out as long as possible on that one. My stomach already looks as if I have leprosy from being a human pin cushion. (And if you're wondering: Yes, I give shots in my stomach; it's one of my favorite places because a) it's very accessible; just lift the shirt and stick vs other areas such as the arms which take some twisting or the hips which require moving the boobs out of the way to see what the hell you're doing; b) contrary to what you would think, the stomach is one of the least painful places to give shot; well, unless your body fat index is next to nothing.)

Second reason for holding out: Where would I put the baby? Seriously! We'd be tripping over it, and then end up in the emergency room having to explain why a) the baby was injured from being fallen on, and b) how you trip over a baby in the first place. I'm sure some of you are thinking that a baby doesn't require that much room, but don't be fooled, they come with STUFF. High chairs, clothes they outgrow too quickly, nose sucky things, diapers out the wahzoo, tiny shoes, little bathtubs, swings, stow and goes (a.k.a. Pak and Plays), toys, toys, and more toys.

So until further notice, no, I'm not pregnant, but thanks for asking. Just be careful, my evil, wicked side might come out and say yes just to psych you out. Plus, why do I need to have a baby yet when there will be plenty to go around soon? I'm sure someone would be willing to share.

Am I lame?

Okay, I really shouldn't even admit it, but: I watch Tori Spelling's reality TV show. I'm a horrible person. I think I watch to see how abnormal her and her husband are, but surprising, they're not. Yeah, I'm that lame. Sigh.

Mmm, food.

I could never be bulimic. I love food, but not enough to see it in reverse. Today, I stayed home from work and so did Jonathan to see if the Stomach would accept some food, and to make sure he wouldn't need to take me to the doctor...or worse, the hospital. So we tested slowly:

Plain toast, check. Another piece of plain toast, still feeling fine. Granola bar stolen right from Jonathan's hand, oh that was yummy. At this point, I was rummaging in the refrigerator like a dog. Oh, tortillas! I'll take two of those. Damn, those Mexicans know bread. Downed one bottle of orange Gatorade, so refreshing. What's that you're having dear, a BLT? Hmm, I better test that for you. Couple bites of that.

Oh, and shower. Something I hadn't felt like doing since Saturday. Hmmm, I'm feeling very...tired.

So I zonked out for a while, until I bolted straight awake (eek! room spun a little), and just had to check work email. For some reason, I always feel so guilty when I'm not in the barracks and my comrades are. Ahh, things are being handled just fine without me. Hmm, maybe I need another tortilla and another glass of gatorade.

To end the day of reintroducing my system to food: a much-awaited BLT (tomatoes bought from the little street vendor farmer up the road) and grilled sweet corn on the cob (from the street vendor).

So far, so good, and I'm so freaking happy. I was in tears yesterday with all the upchucking (seriously, why does the body need to upchuck it's on stomach acid?) I guess my body just needed to cleanse itself, or some other curious mystery of Jessaca's body. I seriously could write a book: The Many Mysteries and Unfortunate Events of Jessaca's Body. Next up: a CT scan of the sinuses just to see if there's anything to see, and a possible reason why every time I have drainage, I end up with an ear infection. I wonder if I could get a job as a consultant? Having an MRI? Have questions? Having your ear whacked off, rebuilt, and reattached? Have concerns? Have a kidney stone? In pain?

In case you're wondering, I'm am not a hypochondriac.

The continuing saga of vomit

I can't seem to keep anything down. Not even chicken noodle soup. I thought that having finished my really strong antibiotics for my ear infection would have helped, but nope. So that means it could be caused from the nausea from the MS-related dizziness. My body has been empty for a day now. Food has never been less appealing when I know there's a strong likelihood that I will just see it again. In reverse. Yuck.

I did manage to make a very cute card on Friday (when I was feel semi descent). It's one in a series of belated birthday cards I need to make and send out, but I'm thinking that cards are just going to have to wait while the puke goes on, and on, and on...

G stands for grilling

We finally did it. After three years, we bought a propane tank for our gas grill that has set on our patio since being bought, waiting to be used. I know, really, how does a person buy a grill and never even light it up? Things, uh, came up. But we broke it in in prime style. On the 4th, we grill hamburgers, later we grill hot dogs—lots of hot dogs. Today, the grill fest was on! Sweet corn on the cob we bought from a street-side vendor, BBQ'd chicken drumsticks, baked potatoes, and even buttered bread. Yum-mee. I also got my tired butt off the couch long enough to make chocolate-dipped spritz cookies. What a tasty weekend. Even if I do feel like someone stole my frigging energy source.

I also got out long enough this weekend to buy a humming bird feeder, but I didn't get around to making cards. The couch just felt too good and I felt too bad. I honestly feel now like I need to go on prozac because I feel guilty I didn't get much done. The guilt monster! I know, I'll post pictures later of my cookies and my bird feeder and then my weekend will look accomplished, right?

By the way, Stacey, happy belated birthday. So sorry I forgot! Hope it was a good one!

Happy 4th!

Ugh. So glad for that half day from work and having tomorrow off. Between new lesions that showed up on my MRI—that most likely account for my inability to move very fast and feeling tired, dizzy, and nauseous—and this antibiotic (it's some strong stuff) I'm taking for my ear infection, I'm one helpless basket case. Got home in time to throw up. I hate throwing up. So on the couch I went for the rest of this evening. I did finish Barefoot (read my review post here).

I managed to stop by Archiver's before leaving the city. I signed up for an acrylic album workshop (Chance would be so proud) and bought some fabulous paper for which I hope to have enough energy to make some cards with this weekend. Also to do this weekend: bake some cookies and research about my new lesions.

Don't drink the water

I guess it's public news, so I might as well share it here too: My sister Rebecca is pregnant as well. Due around the same time as Chance. I'm thinking about officially changing my first name to Aunt Jessie.