Goiter!? Who said anything about a goiter?!

So i went to see the diabetic specialist doctor yesterday and all i can say is... I'm in love.

I was really nervous going to see him. I was afraid he'd have the same reactions to my want of getting off the injections as my family doctor, making me feel like I'm in a fantasy land with the thoughts that it's even possible, that I'd be destined to stick myself continually for the rest of my life. I had every possible scenario running through my head, ready to put up a fight in every respect and direction the conversation may head. I was never given a chance with the pills; the injections make me go too low; I'm not comfortable with them; they're hindering my need to get healthy; I'm having anxiety attacks; if you don't I'll find a doctor who will.

It felt like i was sitting in that waiting room for hours, even though it was only a few minutes, the whole time constantly picking and ripping off the skin around my fingernails (my ultimate nervous habit) until they were red and sore, breathing deeply trying to push back my fears and not have another anxiety attack. I was consoling myself, trying to give me strength to not cry explaining all my issues, trying to give me strength if he ultimately tells me the pills are not possible for me. I was giving myself pep talks, convincing myself the injections aren't that bad, there's worse things to have, so what if this is my life from now on. I've been through so much, what's one more thing to deal with, right? I can do it if need be. I can do it if that's my only choice. But i won't do it without a fight.

I was finally ushered into a room and sat there picking, breathing, eyes watering, until i heard him pull the chart out of the holder beside the door. He comes in, says hi, asks how I'm doing and i do my best impression of a happy calm person. He opens the folder, looks over it, and goes over our history - his first time seeing me was in the hospital, 2 months pregnant and starting an insulin treatment. He said he had been unclear on when i was actually diagnosed with type 2 diabetes and i told him it was in November, right before i ended up in my 3 day hospital stay. He told me about my blood tests whilst in hospital, the a1c test (the average blood glucose levels over a 3 month period) and at that time i was at 11%, which means my sugars on a daily basis were running between 12 and 20. (A healthy blood glucose level pre-meal is between 4 and 7, post-meal being between 5 and 10)

He asked me what medications and dosages I'm on now. I told him Novorapid 3 times a day before meals, between 9-11 units each meal. He looks up at me and asked about the lantus, how many units of that was i taking. I picked at my thumb while i confessed i stopped taking it, but quickly followed up with my explanation. I found alot of mornings i was drenched in sweat, and every one of those mornings i had higher numbers - in the 8's and 9's. The one night where i was woken up at 1230, sweating profusely and completely confused, i managed to make it downstairs and check my blood sugar and was at 2.3 - well below the safe point of 4. It scared the hell out of me. I told him i had called my family doctor the next day and expressed my concerns and his answer was "Well that happens sometimes, nothing to worry about" and when he heard that my average numbers in the morning were still between 6 and 8, mainly in the 7's, he said that was still too high and i needed to up the lantus. After hours of my own research, i learned that if you wake up with high numbers it means you're going too low in the middle of the night and your body compensates for the low numbers by creating more sugar. It scared me too much to think i could slip into a coma or have a seizure in the middle of the night from going so low, so i stopped taking it altogether.

He then told me i had every right to be concerned, he completely understands why i went off of it and was fine with the fact that i did. He explained that all the lantus *really* does is keep the morning numbers low. He asked what my numbers in the morning were like since i stopped taking it and i said "In all honesty, they've been the same, between 6 and 8, mainly 7's." He told me that those numbers are fine, they're not too high at all, perfectly acceptable. I fully exhaled for the first time that morning and i felt my body starting to calm. This doctor is listening. This doctor understands. This doctor will help me.

He then pulled out some paperwork and says we should go over all my blood test results - i assume he checked for pretty much everything given that i had somewhere around 7 vials taken last week, plus i had to pee in a cup. "Okay first, cholesterol" I suck in air through my teeth, expecting something bad, expecting my heart to be in poor health, expecting risks of heart attack. He noticed this and asked if this was a concern area, and i quickly mentioned my anxiety attacks due to thoughts of poor heart health, but tried to brush it off in fear he'd think i was some hypochondriacal crazy person. He looks back down at the sheet and says "Your cholesterol is *excellent*... your kidney function is excellent... all these blood tests confirm that you're a *very* healthy person, with the exception of being overweight, but your body is *really* healthy. And as for your a1c, as i said in the hospital last November you were at 11%. Now you're at 5.7% That's absolutely excellent! That's better than target for a diabetic. You're doing a great job! Now, let's check out your blood pressure." I take off my jacket and sweater, sit on the crinkly paper and breathe deeply. Now here's where the problems are going to be... Blood pressure is perfect. Heart sounds perfect. Lungs sound perfect. What was i worrying for again?



He then puts his fingers on my throat and asks me to swallow... well this is new. Of course now there's pressure - someones *telling* me to swallow, so of course it takes a few tries until i actually do! Then i hop off the table and he says he wants to discuss my plans. I've lost a baby at 9 months, another at 3, am i planning on trying to get pregnant again right away? I told him that i do want to get pregnant again, but i want to be really healthy first - lose as much weight as i can to reduce any risks during another pregnancy. Hopefully by the end of this year we'll be trying again. My goal right now is to get off the insulin injections - they're causing me too many problems - and get on the pills. I knew I'd have to inject every time i got pregnant and i was fine with that, but for right now I'd really like to give the pills a shot. I realized i had stopped fully breathing again, waiting for his answer. This was it.

"Okay well. Take your insulin tonight for dinner, and you'll never take it again as long as i can help it. Tomorrow you'll be starting on Metformin which you take 2 times a day, once with breakfast and once with dinner. In 10 days you'll be calling me to give me your numbers if you don't mind. Don't be surprised if your numbers are a bit high for a few days, it's natural for that to happen. And stop taking your blood sugar 2 hours after you eat like you were told to do, that's for type 1 diabetics. Take your numbers pre-meal, try to check it 2-3 times a day at first until we get things under control and see if we need to fiddle with the dosage. And as for having to inject again during pregnancy - it's not true. In the hospital that's what they tell you because there's no solid results to say the pills *don't* affect the baby, but there's no solid results that they *do* affect the baby. I've had tons of diabetic mothers that stay on the pills and there's been *no* adverse affects whatsoever. Some people just prefer to inject during pregnancy, but if you don't want to, you don't have to. What it comes down to is this - your medication and the way we treat you, needs to be comfortable for you. If you want to be on pills, I'll do everything in my power to *keep* you on pills."

It took everything in my power not to jump up and tackle him with hugs and kisses. I was so excited i felt like i was going to burst, but i remained seated calmly so as not to scare this nice man.

He smiles and says "There is one more thing"... Oh here we go.

"You have a goiter."

Excuse me? I have to admit, that when i think of a goiter, i picture this:




But don't worry - i don't look like that! So i ask... how is that affecting me? Well, i have an enlarged and inactive thyroid gland. Which pretty much means, my metabolism sucks. I need to go on thyroid medication, one pill a day first thing in the morning with no food. I'll start to notice it'll be alot easier to lose weight. And Metformin is known to promote weight loss. Therefore it's going to be quite easy to lose weight if i keep up with my diet and exercise.

Oh darn it. Damn that goiter. I have to take meds which will promote weight loss? Fuck, who wants that.

I have to admit, it's been a looong time since I've left a doctors office with an uncontrollable huge smile on my face. I smiled for the rest of the day.

And I've been smiling all morning.

Poo hole inspector

Apparently that's my new job, according to Rob.

I've unfortunately taken habit of watching the dog's brown eye for signs of impending release.

Not that i have to worry about his expelling vial waste in the house anymore, he hasn't done that in ages, but unfortunately he goofs around a lot outside and forgets to go, so after 20 minutes of a supposed "quick poopee break" we head inside and 5 minutes later Beans realizes he never went. When you're trying to keep busy and have made a huge list for yourself of things to do that day, that kinda crap don't fly.



So, i take a quick peek. There's a few different sphincter poses that i've become accustomed to seeing, so i've gotten pretty good at deciphering the poop shoot. And i'd like to share what i've learned. Maybe it'll come in handy for some of you!

The Black Hole: When it looks like an inny bellybutton, he's definitely sucking in his poo hole to hang on to his steaming turds because he really has to go. And of course if he goofs around too much, the black hole changes into...

The Poka your head out: This one's a little obvious of course, because that inny belly button is expanding into an outty with a rank brown center. At this point he usually stops f'n around with the stick he's so entranced by and runs over to his pooplace to do a little jig before reaching the ultimate poopsition where there's no chance of getting any on his legs. (atleast he's considerate of that, although with his pee mind you, he sometimes gets sloppy. He starts out great, but if something makes a noise, he pivots and sprays his front paws. Lovely.)

And last but not least,

The O (a.k.a, the Hoo): This is the best position by far as it's nice, relaxed, and not likely to pop anytime soon. But don't let it fool you too much, because this is the best case scenario to expel the mind numbing breathe stealing vial stench which granted him his nickname in the first place.

Now that i've, yet again, made you all sick, let's go on to other topics shall we?

So this weekend was another installment of the Lantz Family pot luck extravaganza which we partake in once a month. And i actually remembered my camera this time!!! Amazing. But not only was it just a pot luck, it was Rob's younger sister's birthday, so it became "Shannon's surprise Pretty pink party". Hoorah! Atleast i got some good photo ops of the kids getting ready...


Here's Bailey blowing up balloons (Although apparently what she was mostly doing was blowing up the balloons, letting them go, watching it fly erratically around the room, then laughing her ass off and doing it over and over again. So it took quite a while to actually decorate with them.)



And here's Chloe blowing up balloons. (This reminds me, we have pics of Dana and I blowing up balloons when we were kids!! Maybe i'll have to find those and scan them on here. Gotta love balloon pictures!)



Here i couldn't resist taking a shot when Chloe was rolling on the couch waiting for her Auntie Shannon to get there and got major static head.

Unfortunately i lost all the pictures i took when we brought Kermit to meet Becca's 2 dogs, Tyson and Zeek. They were hilarious pictures and the funniest thing of all is they all look related. Tyson is a boxer who still pees all over the floor when Shannon's husband Tom walks in the room. But then again, who doesn't? So here's Tyson, pre-pee.


And Zeek is a pittbull cross. (They don't know what the cross is!)


But he just looks like a bigger version of Kermit!! They're all so cute. And i'm glad to see Zeek has calmed down alot so hopefully that means there's hope for our Beans!!

Speaking of beans, i've had so many of them lately!! My mom wondered the other day how i've been fairing in the toot department because of all these beans, but y'know what? The more you eat them, the less they affect you! Unless of course rancid toots has become just a daily thing that i never notice a difference?? Hmm...

So today i head to the doctors (Diabetic specialist) and i'm going to request going on the pills instead of insulin injections. I think i've been doing quite well (despite all my rants) by starting to lose weight and keeping my carbs in check, and in my view of things, i should have been given the chance to try the pills after the miscarriage. I know that from now on whenever i get preggers i'll have to inject again - which i'm perfectly okay with - but since i'm not pregnant right now, i'm not going to harm a baby by fooling around with my medication. And i think i'll do much better on the pills, because the injections aren't fairing too well with me. If i go for a walk or exercise right after i eat, my numbers drop too low, so being home alone all day it kinda worries me sometimes. I'd really like the freedom to be able to do whatever level of activity i want without wondering how the fast acting insulin injections are going to react.

But lately i've been getting much more creative in keeping my carbs down and my numbers low. A few items i've notice making a big impact? Sauerkraut! Big time. Although mixing that with a bean salad... yeah that's a little deadly. Obviously beans are a bit of a saviour when it comes to me being really hungry but can't afford the carb overload. And if my numbers are a little high, but i still need to have a snack? Instead of the crackers with cheese and kielbasa, i have cucumber slices with cheese and kielbasa! It gives me that crunch but doesn't interfere with the taste! And my favourite of all time?? Rob loves his .. well not *egg* mcmuffins cause he's allergic, so we'll just say sausage mcmuffins! I however really enjoy a good egg mcmuffin every now and then myself. But the carbs in those things are in the 40 grams per section, and with only allowing myself 45 grams per meal, it doesn't really cut it. So... i made my own!!


And the great thing about making your own?! It's also *alot* lower in the fat! I used the pillsbury dough boy country biscuits (14 grams each), i cooked the bacon in the microwave in between paper towels so it soaks up all the grease. (Of course to cut the fat even more you can use the turkey or chicken bacon, but bluh, so far i've only found ones that taste like thin pieces of cardboard with a bad aftertaste), put some cheese on there, cooked some eggs, and walla! They end up being about 16 grams of carbs each, so well under my limit. I had enough carbs left over to have some yogurt AND another coffee!! When i can have another coffee, oh ya, it's a good day.

Which reminds me... I need another coffee.

And so continues the barking dog

Well, it *was* peaceful.

Okay so we have a neighbour, who i won't name *just* in case for some reason they have time to have a blog, or have a family member who does. Normally, they're not bad. Never really had a problem with them. The problems we DO have, revolve around their dogs.

Quite a few years ago, they had a beagle. It didn't have too many issues, except it barked like a fiend when Dan Twocells was walking by (Which we actually liked because it was our warning system). Should i explain who Dan Twocells is? Let's go off on a tangent shall we?

As you can probably guess, that's not really his last name. He's the token crazy man in the neighbourhood. We've been told he was a 'glue-sniffer' in his teenage years, thus giving him the name of 'Twocells' since that's probably all the brain cells this guy has left. Normally, he's not that bad, and he actually seems to be calming down a bit in his old age (He's only about 40 something, but if you didn't know that, you'd never guess it). Some things he has done: gone after his neighbour with a knife, ripped down our lattice fencing (this was one night where he was running around our property and 5 cop cars were surrounding him trying to calm him down), knocked on our doors and windows for 40 minutes trying to talk to my dad, and stolen our bikes. (we figured that out about 2 weeks after our bikes went missing - i was on the bus heading to work when he jumps on and says to the bus driver "I don't have enough change! Can i pay you back?! I'll have lots of change later! I just sold some bikes and i have the cheque right here, see?? I'll show you the cheque! But i have to get to my bank to cash it, then I'll give you the change for the ride!" At which point the bus driver just told him to sit down and leave him alone, and as Dan is doing so, he happens to look behind him and sees me. Glaring at him. He then proceeded to make a 'poo face', sit down quickly, fidget, continually whipping his head around to look at me, then back to the front, and after sitting there for a couple of minutes while the bus was stationary at this juncture waiting for the Oakville bus to arrive he jumps up, says he'll walk for the exercise and runs away.)

On a good day, he's quite harmless, and i think he enjoys creeping people out by running up behind them, matching their walking pace, and grunting. (He's done this to me many times). He actually does alot of work around the neighbourhood with shovelling, raking, mowing, which I'm sure is beneficial for a few people around here, but once he starts working for you, he never leaves you alone. So most people don't think it's worth it! (Plus you never know when he'll get plastered and try to run you down and stab you.) But let's not forget to describe what he looks like.


(this isn't him, but it's freakin' close!)

The last time he shaved? No clue. His beard and hair get longer and longer every year. Although he sports a clean new brightly coloured bandanna every summer. (We think it's his Christmas present), but after a few months, it's pretty much grey and/or brown. He wears the same grey holey jogging pants every day (but who knows, maybe he has a few of them that look exactly the same?!) a (supposed to be) white t-shirt, and a never done up plaid shirt. And let's see, have we ever seen him clean!? As in, freshly showered and not greasy from head to toe? Can't say that we have. Which is what made us laugh so much when he showed up at our garage sale, bought a pack of tiles my dad had and never used, and stated that he's redoing a shower and thought these would look really nice. Hmm.. redoing a shower he never uses. That's productive. And lately for some strange reason, he now always has Mickey Mouse hands. It's like he's suddenly become a germaphobe because he constantly wears (supposed to be) white cotton gloves and never takes them off. Another thing that makes ya go hmm.. But will i ever stop to ask him why? I don't think i want to know that bad. Striking up a conversation with him never usually ends well. Standing too close can make ya vomit, and any eye contact after said conversation (which you ended by vomiting) will result in an encore pukesentation. Especially after you recognize the tiny bits of food stuck in his beard were your own from a few days ago.

Now after I've made you all sick, let's get back to our regularly scheduled bloggram.

So the beagle would bark when it smelled Dan Twocells coming. And now you know why. The beagle wasn't that bad of a dog, but they never trained the thing. And it sat outside in a kennel day in and day out until they decided to pay it some attention. One night, the beagle got out. And killed my rabbit. Now, we didn't *see* it kill my rabbit (DaVinci) since it happened in the middle of the night, but when your rabbit's cage door is ripped open, and the rabbit is lying dead with a broken neck and it's white fur stuck to the shed wall from being flung around repeatedly and the next morning as you're burying the rabbit and your neighbours are dragging a beagle back to the cage saying "He must have got out last night!" you kinda make assumptions that, ya. The beagle did it. Soon after, the beagle was gone.

On another side note i fully believe that Dan Twocells killed my other rabbit Degas (DaVinci's mom - and yes i know Degas isn't female-) because she was found dead lying under the cages with her cage door completely closed. She was sitting there peacefully and looked as though she just died of fright, which is possible since she was so incredibly skittish after DaVinci was killed. I figured a human had to have done it, and actually didn't think of Dan until he walked by a few days later and asked what happened to my rabbit because he hadn't seen her and is it alright. Uh-huh. Cause your oh so concerned about a rabbit that you've never asked about before.

Alright, enough about Dan Twocells.

Anyhoo, next the neighbours, we'll call them Enkalay and Rankfay, with their 2 kids... okay can't remember their names, but they sound like Bizzario and Unibrow. Next they got a little white crapshoot dog, that apparently was a Houdini because alot of times we'd find it running around. Now it didn't bark a hell of a lot, so i didn't mind it. But unfortunately one day it bit either Bizzario or Unibrow (but it doesn't matter because i can't tell them apart anyways, with the exception of the height difference) so they traded the one white little crapshoot for the barking his head off constantly white little crapshoot with their relatives.


Can i say that i hate this dog? Because i *really* hate this dog. On the one hand i can feel sorry for it, because they rarely walk him, rarely spend time with him, and he's in an outdoor kennel all the time. Would i go a little psycho and bark continuously if i was in that situation? Yes. Yes i would. Although i would also learn how to pitch poo with precision.

So i really can't hate him, despite the fact that i want to wrangle him like a steed, tie him up and *accidentally* damage his vocal chords every time i hear him. I mean, seriously. During the summer, it was construction constantly with the replacing of all the water mains in our area, so from 7am to 7pm that's all we heard to the point where you could hear someone screaming "YES! WE GET IT! YOU'RE BACKING UP ALREADY! BEEP BEEP BEEP F*CKING BEEP!!" But when things *finally* quieted down, what did we get? A barking dog. Who barked for hours. Non stop. Until 11:30 at night when my husband screams out the window to shut the f'n thing up, and (most likely) Enkalay would go out and quiet him. Why they couldn't do that on a regular basis is beyond me. Do they have a magical sound proof house?!?! Where can i get one of these magical sound proof houses?! And why the CRAP are the owners of continuously barking dogs the ONLY ones who can't hear them!? Are they all DEAF!? It's really not that hard to teach your dog to not bark. Yes, Kermit gets out of hand sometimes, but ya say the "EH!" and he stops. Is that so hard?!

And y'know what else works for continuously barking dogs?! It's this little thing called "spending *time* with them". They're pack animals for crying out loud! They need to feel like they're part of a pack, or they'll go mental. If anyone out there needs a prime example of this, c'mon over and i'll point your face to next door.

The last few days have been bliss though. 3 whole days, and not a peep. I joyously thought maybe Enkalay, Rankfay, Bizzario and Unibrow came to their senses and realized "Hey, we don't ever spend time with the dog, and even when we're playing or working outdoors we completely ignore him, so why bother having one? Let's give him away!" I would even be happy with finding out he was DEAD. I'd feel a little guilty for being happy about that, but still.. I'd be guilty with a gigantically calm smile on my face. But alas. Today, it happened. My dreams of a relatively quiet neighbourhood were torn to pieces like that sponge Kermit got a hold of while i was in the shower and i walked out to find blue bits all over the house and like the needles from the Christmas tree still find around the house every time i move something to vacuum. Sigh.

Ah well. Maybe one day my dream will come true. Atleast with this rant i was reminded of the humourous "construction during the entire summer including some weekends" story. I was sitting outside, trying to have a calm relaxing coffee first thing in the morning before the construction started. And then i heard them, the construction boys were milling about, and starting up machinery. I could hear the engine start of the big bulldozer, the ear piercing beeping as it was backing up, but then i heard frantic yelling. The bulldozer was quickly shut off and i stood up, thinking there was a serious disaster that just occurred, until one guy yells "YOU RAN OVER MY LUNCH!!! My sandwich was in there! And my smokes! I thought it would be safe under that tree!" I hadn't laughed that hard in awhile. And it made it just that much easier to put up with the noise.

Alright, I've ranted, I've laughed and by the way Dad, I'm still laughing my ass off about the notice mom got. For those of you who don't read my dad's blog, head over to The Caretaker Chronicles and read about it! Yup, I'll be laughin' for awhile.

Dude looked like-a laday

So we were just in Longo's (or Dongo's if you're a bit "touched" like me when i was a kid) picking up a few more things for dinner tonight. We had walked into the fruit n' veggie section first for Rob to get some fruit, and there was samples of blood oranges. The nice person offering the samples explained what type of fruit it was, and how it tastes, and quickly made a sale to Rob. At this point i was quietly wondering to myself whether this was a boy or girl. Kinda raspy voice, but it was a high raspy voice. Chef jacket quite over sized, so couldn't take into account whether there were boobs present (although this isn't always fool proof given so many man boobs, "tats" as i like to call them, are pretty prominent these days) and the hair under the chef's hat was longish and messy, which is pretty unisex as well. So, i did what most people would do. Checked the name tag. (and if there were no name tag you ask? Well, then we'd never truly know, and since we'd never truly know, we'd never make any reference to either sex to this "Pat's" face). But apparently Rob didn't think to second guess his quick judgement of this Pat being a female, because promptly after he had 'Pat' pick him 3 blood oranges, he jovially yells out "Thanks FRUIT LADY!" At which point i stifled a snort until we were out of earshot so i could whisper to my husband "Just so you know, the name tag said KYLE. That was not a fruit *LADY*"

I giggled the entire rest of the shopping trip.

And since Rob hates it when i continually point out one of his mistakes (like he does to MINE!) i promised him i wouldn't *always* bring it up. So naturally i wrote a blog about it. :)

Apart from our shopping trip today, there's really not much to update about! Although i have 3 shifts next week as apposed to the usual 1, not sure I'm happy about that! More money is great, but having to work 'til 10 at night, then up at 5am really puts a damper on getting crap done during the day 'cause I'm so damn tired all i wanna do is sleep. Ah well. Gotta do what ya gotta do.

Which reminds me! So ya, driving to pick up Rob one day after work last week, and I'm at the intersection at a red light waiting to turn left. See this rather hefty dude wearing mismatched clothing with a gigantic smile on his face walking across the street right in front of me. Being a people watcher, i stare at him and start to wonder why the hell he's smiling from ear to ear. Until that is, i realized he was apparently using a divining rod shoved in his pants to lead him home. Honestly. If ya get a boner walking down the street, please GOD wear a long enough jacket to cover it up. Or ATLEAST stop somewhere preferably BEHIND something, relax, simmer down now, and then continue on your trek. Geez. HIDE YOUR SHAME!

I hafta say it really creeped me out. And reminded me of all the gross old men that would show up at Zellers when i worked there and dangle their dingle out a hole in the front of their jogging pants while doing a Monty Python silly walk to get it a-spinnin'. Who woulda thunk i'd see so many penises while working at *Zellers*?!! Not even gonna tell ya of the many homeless penises that were being dragged outta the washroom by cops after trying to wash their member in the sink.

Alright, off i go. Gotta draw a lobster!!

Chicken without a head

This is just gonna be a quick one, cause it's been a busy day! (well, busy *days*). You may notice a new link to the side of the blog... Etsy - A friend of mine (TARA!! - my napping buddy) steered me towards this site to start selling my art work.

See, here's the thing... Been trying to start my own business, but since all my ideas have incredibly huge start up costs (for me anyways), and the whole 'business plan' that i need to have of either of the said business ideas confused the holy hell outta me. SO i thought of something else that's not only simple, it's inexpensive. Woo hoo! Now, if you click on the link it'll bring you to my online profile and as of yet.. it's BLANK! Haven't finished the works yet (hafta go buy me some canvas) But i'll let ya know when you can click on it and actually *see* something.

So, need to get me ass movin again because i finished walking one dog, now i gotta do it again with 2 others, pick up Rob, go see Kate, come home and see Shannon, and maybe then i'll be able to go to the grocery store to pick up some food so we can actually eat something for dinner other than cereal and crackers.

I'll update again soon!

One year ago today

It was one year ago today that i found out i was pregnant. I woke up that morning with a vivid dream stuck in my mind. In it, i was having cramps, so i went to sit in the hot bath tub, and promptly gave birth to a baby boy.

That morning i got a phone call from my boss to tell me not to bother coming in, because i'd be the only one who would make it in the snowstorm since i lived the closest to work. I stared out the window with a smile, thinking about the relaxing day i was going to have, until the dream ran through my mind again. What if i was?

I hadn't had my period since December, but there was nothing to be concerned about. That happened all the time. When i was 15 i was diagnosed with PCOS - Poly cystic ovarian syndrome. My periods were never regular. And if i gained just a few pounds, they'd disappear completely for 6 months. And that's exactly what happened. I started a new job in July - an office job - which consisted of sitting *all* *the* *time*. I wasn't used to such an inactive job, and my ass grew an inch or 2 in a very short amount of time. When my period started to become a light misting each month (as it always did) i thought "there it goes again". They always told me i'd never be able to get pregnant without fertility treatments, so i never really gave it a thought. Plus, if i was pregnant, wouldn't i have some obvious signs by then?

The day continued with me having some time to work out, read, watch tv... with the nagging thought of 'maybe i should check.. just incase'. By the time i went to pick up Rob from work, i started to really worry. What if i was? Was i ready? Would i be able to afford a baby? How would Rob react? We had *just* gotten engaged that past November.

Straight from work Rob was fixin' on buying some things so our first stop was Zellers. While he looked around i headed over to the pharmacy to check out the prices of pregnancy tests. Even though they were just over $10, i still didn't have enough in my bank account to buy one. It was 2 days until pay day and i was just completely tapped out from rent and car payments. Rob came sidling around the corner then and i pretended i was just looking at the books on the other side of the aisle. I continued to fret as we left the store and headed for Shoppers Drug Mart so Rob could pick up some mail.

In Shoppers while Rob was at the post office, i again headed to the aisle with pregnancy tests, hoping they'd have a cheaper brand. By this point all i was doing was worrying. My mind has a way of thinking of the worst possible scenarios and i can't get them out of my head - and at this moment for some reason - i thought that when i told Rob, he'd be mad at me, yell, curse, and break up with me. It's silly now to think of that, since he'd never have that reaction in a million years, but in my current state of mind, everything was possible.

He sidled his way around the corner yet again and caught me looking at them again. I quickly looked up at him with my best 'stone face' and said "ok, ready to go?!" and turned around. He stopped me, turned me around and said "This is the second time i've caught you looking at pregnancy tests. Do you need one?!" That's when i broke down crying. I bawled in a Shoppers Drug Mart. I tried to tell him that i think i do but i don't know but i can't afford a test because all i have is 5 dollars in my account and i still need to get some gas before Friday, and miraculously he understood all of that.

I looked up at him afraid of his reaction but all i saw was this gigantic smile on his face and tears in his eyes and he hugs me and tells me it's ok! And he just kept repeating "Really!??! Really you need one?!" Like an excited little boy that was just told he was going to Disney World. He kept telling me to stop crying, he'll go buy the test, just go to the car and calm down 'cause he'd be right there.

I honestly tried to stop crying but i was scared, not just scared, petrified. And i already felt like a bad mom for being so upset that i could be pregnant. Rob runs out of the store, jumps in the car and says "I got 2!! I don't know why i got 2!! Should i pee on the other one?!" This is one of the many reasons i love him so much... he can always make me laugh.

So we went home. And i stopped crying. And i sat in the washroom reading and re-reading the instructions. Simple enough - Pee on the stick. Wait 3 minutes. Look at the stick. So i peed on the stick. I glanced at the stick as i wiped it off and noticed this gigantic positive symbol already formed. Rob opens the door and i said "I dunno if i did it right, it turned positive immediately!" So we waited 20 minutes, i went into the bathroom. I peed in a shot glass (mostly on my hand, but enough in the shot glass), i stuck the stick in the shot glass and walla! Immediate positive. Rob opens the door and asked how it went. "Well, i didn't piss all over the stick this time, i stuck it in the pee, and the same thing happened. No waiting 3 minutes. It was immediate!" So we started making some phone calls.

That night, we headed over to Chapters and Rob bought me 2 pregnancy books which we both started to read. Going by how long i hadn't had my period, we were guessing i was atleast 3 months. But i felt i couldn't tell work yet because i wanted to wait until i atleast knew exactly how far along i was. Unfortunately our baby didn't want me to wait that long, because in the next couple of days, i could no longer wear the same pants.

We called him the stealth ninja, since there was no signs of him whatsoever (no morning sickness, no showing, nothing) until AFTER i found out i was pregnant. That's when he started kicking. That's when my belly popped out. That's when i went to the doctor with a huge belly for my first ever appointment and my doctor freaked out. Then he measured and asked why my uterus was way up there! It turned out, i was almost 6 months pregnant.

The next couple of months were the best months of my life. I loved being pregnant. I loved my belly. I loved my baby. My little Robbie J.


This is one day in which i will never forget.

All Aboard! The Diabetes train of thought

All i can say is - No wonder so many diabetics have heart disease.

Yes, i realize there are much worse ailments one can have other than diabetes. But can i still complain about how annoying it is?

I don't mind watching everything i eat, and moderating and mixing and making sure i have everything i need in a meal. The only time it gets really tough of course is when you have no money and the only food you have in the house consists of everything you can't have.

Breakfast is the worst. I always ate a relatively healthy breakfast - heart healthy that is. Either yogurt with fibre cereal mixed in or whole grainey good for you toast with peanut butter. Now that i have diabetes, these aren't the best choices in the world. The best choice though - with keeping my sugar levels ultra low - is eggs, toast, cheese, cucumber slices and preferably a greasy meat like bacon or sausage. Oh goody! Can i have a side of heart attack with that!?



I do try to have eggs atleast 3 times a week, but everyday? I can just picture my husband calling the house repeatedly a half hour after i was supposed to pick him up while i lay dead on the floor after having a massive coronary. (My only hope is that the animals wouldn't have started eating my face in their attempt to wake me up by the time someone finds me.)

I guess i'll forever be shades of grey since i can no longer add colour by drinking a gigantic glass of orange juice like in the commercial. *sigh*

Everything i use to eat was pretty healthy - with the occasional fast food once in a blue moon. Pasta and rice dishes were always my fave, but now since i can only have 1/4 to 1/2 cup of rice or pasta per meal, whats the point of even making it?! And i eat so much cheese it's a total wonder i'm even able to poop!

I guess since i eat so many freakin' beans it evens out my bowels. - My husband's not very appreciative of beans though because since i've had to eat them so often now i've quickly become more comfortable with the free for all gas raids instead of holding it all in until i can find the sanctity of the bathroom and relaxing my butt cheeks enough to release the toxic fumes with little to no sound. Now there's a long sentence mixed with a bit'a too much information.

Although my toots in public have become very stealth (meaning i've gotten good at keeping them quiet plus i no longer giggle uncontrollably)... to the point where my husband actually wonders whether it was HE who let out the foul stench and didn't realize it. That makes me very proud of my pokertoot face! Hee hee!

And right now i'm very disgusted with myself that i've become accustomed to splenda alot faster than i thought i would. Mmmm... aftertaste!


So i got quite a surprise the other night. I started a part time job in the evenings so Rob's stuck at home alone with Pork and Beans (HA! Payback!) Because these 2 can get quite out of hand at times. The one thing that always bugged me was how Kermit was always soo incredibly upset every time Rob left, and how incredibly happy he was when Rob came home (even if i walked in the door with him, he'd run right past me like i was a bowl of salad. - I'd say chopped liver, but he'd probably stop and eat chopped liver) But i finally got to know what it's like to be Rob coming home again. Kermit freaked he was so happy i was there! And apparently he was upset that i was gone! He loves me! He really really loves me!


Alright well, off i go. Gotta go puncture myself and do a little blood letting.