Saturday, March 1, 2008

Hormone Hell

Holy shit this sucks. I have self-diagnosed via the Internet with too much estrogen and too little progesterone. I cry. I eat. I bake brownies at 3am. I cry. I eat. My boobs, they are killing me. They feel like they weigh 10 pounds each. It's like being pregnant....without a baby making it all worth it. Good news (if there is any) is that at least I'm not having hot flashes (knock on wood). I see Dr Vick Wednesday and believe you me...this issue will be the FIRST line of business.

I am still sore and swollen. My lower incisions 'came to life' about Tuesday and have caused me quite a bit of pain. My left side is way worse than my right which keeps with the discovery of the ultrasound tech that might right ovary had floated over to the left for a change of scenery. I am getting better every day so there IS progress. I worked from home this week.

Isaiah and I ventured out to the grocery store yesterday. Steven had been going for me but frankly, he just doesn't do it 'right'. Isaiah was, as usual, an awesome help. We are nicely stocked back up. I even cooked last night! And I mean real food...turkey burgers! I have steaks marinating now and the potatoes have began their slow road to yumminess.

Isaiah has recently became very interested in cooking. He can be found in my armpit anytime I'm in the kitchen. He helped with the turkey burgers. He chopped the green onions and formed a few of the burgers (this is saying alot given the smooshy-ness of the mixture). He just learned how to prep 'taters for baking, mark which steak is Daddy's, and how to season/marinate the meat. He's told me for years he wants to be a chef when he gets older. Actually, he used to say he wanted to make wedding cakes. I am glad it has changed to regular food 'cause for him to make the 'good' money as a baker he'd have to move to a bigger city where the market pays him for his talent.

Arissa finally went back to school Friday. She is still a little worn down and sleeping alot but she is certainly on the road to recovery.

Well, I need a brownie...

Anne

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