Friday, September 08, 2006

About my last post: Good GOD was I HIGH.

Am I entertaining the masses with these drug influenced posts? It's ridiculous. Sangria? Where'd THAT come from?

Some of the comments I write and then read later, I have no recollection of. Seriously. I read this shit and think to myself, "whose figured out my password and signed on as me?" Whose trying to make me look bad? These days, it's easy to look bad.

I have been stiflingly bored the past few days. Really depressed. Every question depresses me. Every comment, anyone who walks in my room, anything on TV. Everything hurts. I've never been so angry before. Never been so tired. Never felt such a lack of joy. Every nurse, every patient, every morsel of food. It's all bad. I'm all bad.

I'm not a fun person to visit.
I don't make a very good patient.

Being told to lay still and do nothing is... well, I can't describe it. I can't be cheered up. I've used up all the little distractions I have available to me. Nothing's appealing any more. And if it is, the duration of its usefulness gets shorter and shorter. I'm just running out of gas? What does a person DO with that? Where do I go from here?

What can I do to survive this pregnancy?
Lay still, be quiet. Do nothing.

What can I do to improve Bimp's health?
Lay still, be quiet. Do nothing.

What choices do I have?

Whose in charge here?
Certainly not me.

Here's the really freaky thing: I am so bored, I actually find some small amount of pleasure at the thought of an amnio. Where they put a needle in your belly and draw out some fluid to assess the baby's lung maturity. This is one of the procedures they're planning on that's put me in panic mode. The mere thought of it makes me nauseous. And now I'm so incredibly bored and ANGRY that I find the thought of looking at the needle and watching the ultrasound mildly entertaining. Is this part of what's supposed to happen?

Last night when they gave me a shot of "no contracto" after contracting all day, I was able to focus on something. An event. Though it was unpleasant, I tolerated it.

Dr. Feng came to see me this morning. Said they'd schedule the c-section around 37 weeks. Not 35. Not 36. Week 37 begins on Tuesday, September 26th - the last week in September. Bimp won't be an October baby. And all along, I was thinking maybe 35 or 36. So I'm slightly put off.

I arrived on August 21st. I've been here for 3 weeks. And I'll be here for 3 or more weeks. And I am going crazy and don't know how I'll survive. My favorite time of day is at night after they give me an Ambien and I lay down to sleep. I get to check out for 6 hours.

On a more positive note, Happy Tails came today and 2 of the doggies jumped up on my bed and snuggled with me. It was momentarily blissful to think a creature could love me enough to lay his head in my lap, As toxic as I feel right now. Maybe it's not love. Maybe it's just instinct. And maybe mine will kick in and I'll be a good mother. Everyone keeps saying when El Bimpo arrives, I'll forget about how hard this all was.

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