I knew there would be problems when I scheduled it. On the phone I was told 730, but on my chart it said 815. I couldn’t get an answer as to which, so we got there at 720.
After an hour and a half I got registered and was told I’d have to wait until the doctor ordered the test. Apparently that’s not what she did on June 13 when she wrote it on my chart.
After another while, I went to ask if I could schedule my follow up now or if I needed to wait until after the test was done. I could not schedule it at that time, in spite of ‘return two weeks after HSG’ also being on my chart.
Finally I was called to the desk at 930 and told to report to radiology. I wasn’t given any paperwork. All I had was my armband. So radiology sent me back upstairs for a pregnancy test. I got to stand around holding a tube of pee for almost half an hour! But we also got to see what a real positive looks like, and we snagged two of their tests for leaving us alone in the assessment room. That’ll teach em!
Back to radiology, and while we waited there, I got an email about changes to my chart. I thought I was going to have to harm some people, but the website wouldn’t freaking load, so they got a reprieve. I was finally called back.
Ian couldn’t come with me, which sucked because I already had tears welling up from all the crap so far.
But the tech was super nice, and when the OB/GYN came in she was nice, too, until I laughed heartily when she said ‘this is one of the first tests we do when you’re diagnosed with infertility.’ I explained that I’d been asking for an HSG for years, but I think my laughter soured our relationship. Whatevs. The radiologist was even more super nice than the tech, if that was possible.
I put on my mismatched pair of hospital gowns and hopped up on the table, where the radiologist whacked my legs with the shields on the machine. I really wanted the pillow for my butt instead of my head due to the ant bites, but I got a folded up sheet instead.
I scootched around until everybody was happy, and was speculumed without preamble. Thanks! I did get warned that the iodine swab would be cold. The catheter and balloon were no worse than the average pap, and I only felt the dye when she first began injecting it.
By craning my neck around to look at the monitor behind me and to my right, it appeared that my uterus is normally shaped and sized, and I saw dye spill out from both tubes. Unfortunately, I popped a whole lotta ant bites when I rolled to the left, so it was definitely a relief to roll back to the right. They got all their pictures, so after hearing about some nice pasty discharge to look forward to, I got to hop down again.
I must say, the absolute monstrosity of a pad they supplied me with was not the best introduction, as I’ve never used one before in my life. One of Abby’s size 5 diapers would have been smaller and thinner.
The OB/GYN said she’d schedule my follow up since they already had my chart. More on that later.
I practically pranced out, my only concern the gigantic pad, and Ian looked relieved. We went home to see how Abby and Uncle Thomas were making out. Pretty well! She absolutely adores Ian’s brother. We ran him to the bank and the pharmacy, and he offered to buy us lunch at Carl’s Jr since today was their grand opening.
It was so crazy busy. We got there and waited in line for parking, finally got inside and Abby and I snagged a table while the boys waited in line. Halfway through the meal, about two hours after the HSG, the cramping started. I might be able to finish my burger tomorrow, if I’m lucky. We took Thomas home, then home we went and Ian put Abby down at 2 while I went to bed.
I’d taken two Aleve at 7, because I didn’t know how long I’d have to wait and those last me the longest. It was too early for more, and Tylenol doesn’t really do anything for me, so I tried to hold still and tough it out.
Before my first round of Provera, I never had cramps. I was mystified by the girls who missed work or school for that reason. Then I found out, with a vengeance. This was worse. Just one step worse, but worse nonetheless. I had diverticulitis last year, and it felt just like that, only low and central instead of high and left.
I felt better as long as I didn’t move, and that hasn’t changed, although I bloated up quite a bit after Ian left for work at 3. I wasn’t looking forward to when Abby woke up, but hankfully, she slept until 420, and juice and snacks are on the top shelf in the fridge.
At least she’s old enough to understand Mom has a bobo, please don’t jump on her tummy. It probably helped that she couldn’t jump on me yesterday because I felt so crappy from the ant bites.
And I’ll freely admit we watched TV for most of the evening until Ian got home at 8. Snakes and pishies and puppy gogs on Animal Planet. I planted my butt on the couch and only got up twice for a refill and a diaper change. She is such a sweetheart when someone doesn’t feel good. I got so many hugs and kisses, along with a couple elbows
In the gut, but it happens.
Lucky for us, since we bring Abby back there Wednesday noons, the fireworks show was tonight. They set them off a mile from our house, so Ian and I have watched every Fourth and New Year’s eve that they’ve had a show since 2005. So she got to stay up for the 915 fireworks. And yay, she’s not scared of the booms as long as she can’t see them lighting the fireworks!
But it has been a long, long day, and I’m glad to be going to bed now. I hope I can get some sleep and feel more comfortable in the morning.
I have been feeling pretty indigo recently (more on that later), but I knew I’d never forgive myself for not commemorating the New Year. And so, I’ll share with you our traditions.
We live near a casino/racetrack, and they (almost) always have a huge fireworks display for New Year’s Eve. We could see most of it from our porch, but we go get a parking spot where we can see the whole thing. Then we come home and toast with champagne or sparkling wine. I get a glass plus a glass minus a sip, since hubby doesn’t like it. Then we snuggle a bit and go to bed, because it’s fricking late.
I’m neither the night owl nor the party animal I once was.
New Year’s Day, of course, we have cabbage and black-eyed peas.
Cabbage for money, and it’s really good fried up in some bacon grease. I’ve always loved cabbage, although I only had it steamed or raw until I was twenty-five.
And black-eyed peas for luck, and I’ll share my recipe with you. When I was a kid, I hated black-eyed peas, and would only eat five at my mother’s insistence. Now, of course, I love them, especially cooked like this, over some rice.
The first step is to serve a ham for Christmas dinner. Okay, not essential, but if you had a ham, keep the bone.
You will need:
1 lb dry black-eyed peas
2-4 cups chicken or vegetable stock
2 Tbsp Worchestershire sauce
1-2 tsp hot sauce
1 Tbsp red wine vinegar
1/2 tsp black pepper
2 tsp Cajun seasoning
2 Tbsp flour
Ham bone or 1/2 lb pork tasso
If you’re serving early, start the morning before. If late, you can wait until the evening before.
Rinse and sort the peas and leave them in your pot with 6-8 cups of water to soak for at least 6 hours, or up to 24 if you got started that early.
After the soaking, drain the peas. Cover them with 4 cups of stock and/or water, and put them over medium-low heat. Drop in ham bone or cubed tasso, if desired. Stir in Worchestershire, hot sauce, vinegar, pepper, and seasoning. Cover and simmer about two hours, or until tender. I’m making mine in my slow cooker tonight, so they’ll have about 12 hours on low.
Combine flour with 1/2 cup cold water, and stir in. Cook uncovered, stirring occasionally, another 15 minutes. If using a slow cooker, just replace the lid after stirring the flour in and give it another half an hour. And you’re done.
Good luck all year!
Do you have a special meal for New Year’s Day?