Where to start?

Monday, 9/10/07, I worked almost 9 hours. Then I went grocery shopping. Once I got home, it was almost 7:30pm. I was tired, too tired to put groceries away. I needed to sit for a moment. And I badly needed dinner.

Husband is on couch in pain. Agony, actually, but I didn't realize it was that bad. Really bad cramps in his shoulders. He was trying to use a heating pad to fix it. I later found out they were bad enough to cause him to puke. :P Now that's bad.

I get this phone call from someone I don't recognize. She then explains she's with a close relative of mine, who has been in a car accident. And that my close relative is really rattled, and she really needs me to stay with her.

I pack a few items in my lunchbox, since I really can't be going hungry alot while preggers. Plus after I eat, I then have to prick my fingers. I don't know how long this whole thing is going to take, so...

I ask my husband to please put the groceries away while I'm off, having no idea that his pain is so bad he's going to puke while I'm gone! He mumbles something about sure. He says for me to give him a call if I need him to help. And amazing to me now, he does manage to put the groceries away, after he's finished puking. My husband is awesome.

My close relative... this was her wedding anniversary. She had called her husband, but his hearing is going, and he refuses to get a hearing aid. So the combination of static on her cell phone and his poor hearing meant that he didn't understand what she was asking him to do. So, he didn't come out to help her and/or just be with her. Add the fact that he was suffering from a bad case of the flu, and... yeah.

So I arrive. I talk to the cops. I talk to her. And I find out she accidentally ran a red light in the heart of downtown. The sunlight was in her eyes. She was driving really slowly, thankfully, because that part of town is notorious for having people walking against the light, and bicyclists zipping in and out of traffic.

When she was at the light, she saw a mom and daughter on her right. The daughter was holding the mom's hand. Then she looked away to move through the light, which she thought was green. She didn't see the daughter running ahead of the mom, into the crosswalk.

So yes, my close relative hit the little girl. :P Before you panic, the little girl was ok. The police assured my relative that the little girl was ok, but was being taken to the hospital to get checked on. The little girl was up and walking around after having been hit.

My relative probably only hit her hard enough to knock the poor little girl on her keester.

A ton of people stood in front of my relative's car. My relative tried to park, but the people were blocking her. They thought she was trying to flee the scene! She finally gave up trying to park, left the engine on, and got out of the vehicle. She stumbled forward and yelled that someone needed to call an ambulance, and if the little girl was alright.

The mother of the little girl merely glared at her. I guess I would have done that also, but the relative really hadn't meant to hit the little girl. My relative was very unsteady and shaky -- she has congestive heart failure -- and it took 2 men to carry her to a bench to sit down. And the police and ambulance eventually arrived.

There were two groups at the scene... the group surrounding the mother and child, and the group that was helping out my relative, getting her some cold water to drink. The group around the mother and child were all Mexican. The group around my relative were all white. It was really a shame, but that's exactly how the lines were drawn. :P

By the time I got there, there was a cop on duty, the ambulance had been and left, and the crowds had dispersed. I moved her car to a better parking location as she was in no condition to drive. I got debriefed by the cop and talked and comforted my relative. I heard that the little girl was going to be ok.

I then drove my relative to her home. We agreed that I couldn't drive her husband back to pick up the car, as he had the flu (and I'm nearly 7 months preggers), so the next day I called a cab to pick him up.

Meanwhile, my husband had vomited and put away groceries!

I crawled home, ate dinner, poked my fingers, and collapsed in bed, worrying about the little girl and about the probability that the mother of the little girl was going to sue the pants off my relative. Thankfully my relative has good automobile insurance.

And it bugged me how much the little girl's mom obviously hated my relative... when the whole thing was just a horrible accident. It also bugged me how it became this weird racial thing... group of Mexicans in one corner, group of whites in another. The whole thing was a combination of the worst of human nature and the best, in the sense that both groups were at least taking care of the person involved in the accident: the little girl on one side, my relative on the other.

That night I think I had the Chemistry nightmare. Something about realizing I had final exams and 2 papers due on my Chemistry class. Due the next day. I could remember what one paper was supposed to be about, but not the other. And then I realized I had finals in a bunch of other classes, but wasn't sure what and when they were as my planner just stopped at the day of the Chemistry final. Only I only realized it was both the Chemistry final and the day both papers were due at the same date and time towards the end, when I'd run out of time to write anything. And something about my sister telling me that maybe this whole thing wasn't mean to be? I think I screamed at her. :P

Tuesday, 9/11:

I was sortof calmer about what happened last night. Then, in the afternoon, I get a call from a friend. She needed me to help her out. For reasons I can't go into, I couldn't. She needs something she's not asking for, and until she asks for what she really needs... well... it's a long story. But after hanging up with her, I just felt helpless.

Got home after work. Ironed an outfit for my husband as he thought he would be heading to LA on Thursday, our 9th Wedding anniversary. Just a day trip.

Wednesday, 9/12:

Had an 8am appointment with the dietician. Thankfully, I'm doing pretty well on diet, according to the sugar testing numbers. Phew. But having to get up early enough to feed dogs, prick fingers, feed me... the time to prick my fingers AFTER breakfast coincided with when I was in bumper to bumper traffic, trying to get to my appointment in time. I ended up pricking my fingers in the dietician's office, about 10 minutes late, LOL!

Then work. Dead tired, and with 8+ hours of work, then 7 to 9pm baby class, I was going to be pretty trashed by the end of the day.

It was 11:50am. I was listening to "Blackout", by "Hybrid". I was singing along with it. There's a repeating line in it, "And the lights... go... out..." On the 2nd to last repeat of that line, as I was singing "And the lights... go... out..." -- they did. For 10 seconds.

I paused the song, freaking a little bit. My computer at work is on a UPS, so I hadn't lost any work. But the coincidence was just WEIRD.

I walked around the building, checking the computers that are running stuff I support, to make sure they were ok. Had to log back into one computer that my co-worker uses, and restart some software he runs. But that was about it.

I've had other weird coincidences in my life. Back in the early 90's, I prayed once for help from God to get up in the morning. I was really stressed about a project I was working on at work, and wanted to get in really early to keep working on it. For reasons I'm not sure I understood, I set my alarm for 4:30am.

Alarm goes off. I turn it off and the lights on. "What was I thinking? I can't even log into the network until 7am..." I put my head back on the pillow, leaving the lights on for the moment. At 4:31am, the Northridge earthquake starts.

I AM NOT KIDDING. I have had some weird shit happen in my life. I decided finally that I couldn't blame myself for the earthquake. Maybe it was God showing me that He listens to me, that He's there. And that He just made sure I set the alarm for the correct time, to set the coincidence up.

So, with the stressors occurring in my life recently... admittedly, things that are happening to other people I care about, not to me personally... maybe I needed a reminder of His presence. Hence the coincidence of this weird 10 second blackout.

So, I work until 6:30pm, then drove down to the baby class.

There was a video that was going to show an animation of the cervix opening up prior to birth. Animation. Ok, my husband and I can handle an animation. But then the video moved forward to showing a live birth! And, just for extra gross-out, the placenta coming out.

The entire class was speechless, and a little green. I looked over at my husband, and saw him furiously reading something in his lap rather than looking up to see that incredibly disgusting red blob of a placenta again!

The gal leading the class apologized for the placenta thing... she'd forgotten to forewarn us all. I raised my hand and said something about, "yeah, I thought this was going to be an ANIMATION?!?!?" Everyone laughed.

We leave the class at 9pm. Husband tells me that the LA trip got moved from Thursday to Friday. Now, if you're smart, you will NEVER try to drive to LA (or away from LA) on a Friday. Because THAT'S WHAT EVERYONE ELSE WILL ALSO BE DOING. So he's not quite so keen on making that trip now, understandably, and is considering bowing out.

That night I had a strange dream about the baby again. Once again, he was twins, but not conjoined at least. Both of them were premature, and because of it, had pointy ears?!?!? And they were both in this huge playpen. I noticed that there were some animals in the playpen, including a bird. And in one corner was some bird and animal poo. I got into the playpen with them, with a scrub brush and some clorox, and scrubbed the poo away. And what was really extra weird, the floor wasn't a normal plastic playpen floor, but was a metal mesh floor... like the floor in a bunny hutch!

Thursday, 9/13:

Woke up late. Remembered just before husband left to say "Happy Anniversary!", LOL! Prepared my breakfast. Poked finger. Started eating while soaking dog food. Poked finger 10 minutes early to drive to see ObGyn. Weee!

Then worked the rest of the day. For some reason, towards the end of the day, started to feel a little nauseated. Came home.

Husband cooked bacon and sausages for me. And wished me a Happy Anniversary, LOL! Whereupon I was like, "Oh, yeah! That's what I forgot for this evening!", LOL! I have a card, but it's mushy, not funny. It says what I mean, but my husband doesn't like cards, and I really wanted to have something to give him. But what we want to give each other is a new HD TV. And eventually a playstation 3. And Grand Theft Auto 4, when they finally... FINALLY... get it released.

I have visions of breast feeding my newborn with one hand while rapidly thumbing the PS3 control with my other hand, LOL!

Did I mention my husband and I are overgrown kids at heart? :)

Anyway, we are planning on getting the HD TV at some point, and basically giving it to each other as our Anniversary present. :) We just haven't gotten around to finding the best place to get it from.

We were going to go to friends Wedding reception this Saturday. But it's in LA. And this week has been hell. We bowed out of it.

Friday, 9/14:

Husband thankfully opted NOT to torture himself and NOT drive to LA Friday.

I read email this Friday morning from home saying that a coworker's son died in a motorcycle accident. Her son was in his mid to late 20's. He was already having a rough time as he'd spent 2 years taking care of his grandfather and not working. And then, w/o job or health insurance, he'd been diagnosed with cancer. Various people throughout our company donated money to help him get the cancer treatment he needed. But now it doesn't matter: he's gone. I don't know if he was hit by a vehicle, or wiped out on his own, or what.

It just makes me sick at heart. This is the 2nd person who I've known personally, or known the parent of personally, to die by motorcycle. I hate what his mom and dad are currently going through. I find myself mad at God, and that's never a solution to anything. I don't know why God allowed this to happen. I know He wants us to have free will, and that that often means we have free will to do the wrong thing or make mistakes. And that free will is very important. And sometimes God has to let us do stupid or wrong stuff. But it still makes me mad at Him. It just seems like a wasteful death, and, well, I don't understand the reasons for it. I guess this is testing my faith. :P

I've been trying to sell my motorcycle. As a future Mom, it doesn't seem like a good idea to keep the deathtrap. Admittedly, it's not so much that it's a deathtrap. It's that sharing the road with cars is what makes it a deathtrap. Most car drivers seem to be oblivious to the presence of a motorcyclist. They simply DON'T SEE THEM. And a motorcycle just doesn't offer the same protection in an accident that a car does. It just can't. Yeah, you can wear a helmet, wear a protective body suit and boots and gloves. But it's still your body bouncing on the road when it comes down to it.

Ever since I learned how to ride a motorcycle, through a very good group called the Motorcycle Rider Education group, I've realized just how invisible motorcyclists, and bicyclists, are on the road. And suddenly I'm hyper aware of them, and very careful to give them the room they need.

And now, I almost feel like, instead of selling my motorcycle, I should just melt it down for scrap metal!!! I know, stupid... it's because my maternal feelings are more hyper from impending motherhood. I just don't want to find out later that someone died on my bike. :P

So I read about my co-workers dead son. And fed the dogs. Pricked my fingers. Ate breakfast. Pricked my fingers again. Sat down with the dogs for a moment on the floor. And suddenly realized I was exhausted. Pregger hormones kicking in big time. Crawled back into bed for just a few minutes. Woke up and realized it had been longer than a few minutes. :P

I think the pregger hormones, the long week, and the recent bad news about my co-workers dead son hit me really badly. Honestly, I feel like the dead son was the last straw for the f*cking week.

I eventually got to work late and dragged around. I couldn't lift my mood, and it was as if all my energy had been taken away from me.

When I drove home, I broke into tears. And I realize it's because this motorcycle accident makes me afraid of losing my own child!!! I only realized it then... that's when it hit home. I'm afraid of losing him during the pregnancy, or after he's born, or when he's a kid biking around and some idiot hits him with their car, or when he's an adult and something else bad happens. I'm afraid of losing him while I'm still alive.

Someone said that it's wrong to outlive your own children. I get it now.

And I realize I'm mad at God because He might choose to take my baby... either before it's born, or after it's born... anytime through my son's life.

Shit.

Anyway, I cried all the way home, and cried when I got home. Husband came home, and had to talk some sense into me. I mean, yeah, our son could die. But that's life. We can only do so much.

He talked me out of my pregger-hormone-induced crying fit. Well, he helped me talk it through, and do any further crying I needed to do to let go of the stress of this crappy week.

It's Friday. We're not doing ANYTHING this weekend that isn't absolutely necessary. We're just done. Put a fork in us.

This has been a long week. :P

Worst Nightmare

I have a bunch of different dreams that would be considered nightmares. Well, some aren't as bad as others.

There's a certain set of repeating themes.

(1) I have to pee, but all the toilets are either filthy, don't have stall doors for privacy, or are physically impossible to reach. I end up searching for that one, clean toilet in a HUGE bathroom full of filthy ones. Or I end up wishing I'd taken gymnastics, as I try to get my butt over some toilet that is bizarrely placed high up in some impossible alcove.

Sometimes these toilets are in a public restroom. Sometimes they are scattered in some house.

(2) I'm running late for work, but all the shower stalls don't have walls for privacy, or there's some other issue with them that makes it difficult to take a shower and get cleaned up prior to work.

Sometimes these showers are in a public shower, like a gym or a dormitory, and sometimes they are in different bathrooms in a house.

(3) I have an apartment separate from the home my husband and I share. For some reason I spend alot of time there. My husband comes to visit. I keep wondering why the heck I'm spending this extra money on this apartment when I have a perfectly good house. It just feels really weird and wrong.

(4) I am living with my parents, even though my husband and I have our own house. My husband comes to visit sometimes. I'm in my old bedroom from when I was a teenager. This one makes me truly shudder.

(5) The place I'm living has rodents and/or cockroaches. The wood is rotting away or eaten away by termites. Cleaning up the mess is nearly impossible. Trying to clean it up w/o wearing a HAZMAT suit is inadvisable.

(6) I forgot I was taking some classes at college. I don't even know the schedule in order to try to attend those classes, and catch up on homework. Not even sure where the final exam is or when.

(7) I have an argument with my Sister. Pretty simple, but that's a big one. I can wake up crying from that. Ditto if it's an argument with my husband, although that dream is much less frequent.

I usually have a strange combination of the above. Usually (1) plus (2) plus (4), with (6) tossed in for good measure. Then, with (2) and (6), there's the knowledge that not only will I have to stay late at work to make up the hours, but I will also have to take time out of the day to go to the classes, whose schedule I don't even have on me, and then work even later after I return from those classes.

Sometimes it's (3) plus (5), and the rodents or roaches could be at both home and the apartment.

I don't understand the whole apartment thing. I think it's more a remembering what it's like to live in my apartment alone, and then, in the dream, remembering I'm happily married and have a home... what the heck am I doing HERE???

I understand the whole living with my parents thing: it's like a failure, like I majorly screwed up if I'm back at home in my old bedroom. No offense to my parents, but that's exactly it.

I moved back home with my parents once in real life. It was ok, but it was a major ego-hit. I did it because I wasn't feeling confident at my job at the time, was in the middle of a difficult project at work, and felt like I should move home and try to pay off some credit card debt. I also was thus able to give my folks a little rent money, which helped them as well. But it was still just not right. I moved out after 6 months. My parents were really cool, both about me moving back home and moving out, but moving back home just wasn't the right thing for me to have done. There are less ego-destroying ways to save money!

If my husband isn't even in the dream at all, where I'm stuck with my family again, it's a REALLY bad dream. Because then, on some subconscious level, I know things are REALLY screwed up if my husband isn't in my life.

Ok, quick side-step into real life here:

I failed the 1 hour Gestational Diabetes test, getting a score of 164 when I needed to have below 140. My ObGyn thinks it was because I had some sugar a few days prior to the test. I've barely gained any weight while pregnant... it seems I'm replacing fat with this kid! I.E., the kid is getting bigger, and my overall weight is only slowly getting larger. So I'm losing fat and gaining baby. I consider this a good deal! Anyway, the fact that I'm not gaining weight like a mad fool makes my ObGyn think that I'm probably ok.

But, just to be sure, on Monday I had to take a second test, the 3 hour Gestational Diabetes test.

Now, the 3 hour Gestational Diabetes test involves the following:

(1) 3 days prior to the test, go on an Atkins-like diet. Avoid all processed/added sugars. But also do carb loading, where you eat 5 servings of GOOD carbs. Apples count, as does wheat bread. And cereal. Not sure I did a good job on the carb loading thing... I re-read that part of the instructions last minute while I was sitting for the test, and started worrying. :P

(2) Fast for 8 to 12 hours prior to the test. Other than swallowing phlegm, did a great job on that.

(3) Get first blood test.

(4) Drink sugary drink.

(5) Get 3 more blood tests, each an hour apart from the last.

(6) Pass out due to not having had food, giving blood 4 times, and having had a sugar spike and then an insulin spike on an empty stomach. While 6 months pregnant. And that baby inside you is HUNGRY, and making you HUNGRIER.

They can never find the veins on me. I figured out I have a vein underneath this pockmarked area of my right arm. I advised the first guy to drill there. He said he had to drill where he felt the vein, and went to the right of that first. No blood. He took my advice the 2nd time and voila: blood.

Everyone else thankfully either took my advice, or felt the vein in the pockmarked area. So, 5 pricks of the needle for 4 vials of blood. Whew! That's the most blood tests in the shortest span of time that I've ever had.

Unfortunately, just found out today that I do have Gestational Diabetes. But it's not so bad that I'll have to be pricking my fingers, or taking insulin. Just need to go on a special diet. Well, if that's the worst thing that happens with this pregnancy, my husband and I will be truly blessed.

So, I get to see a dietician. Weeee.

I started sniffling Monday morning, and it only got worse throughout the day. At first I thought I was allergic to something in the waiting room where I had blood drawn. But now I think I caught a relative's cold.

Trying to continue working Monday afternoon after that blood test and with the sniffles was just hell. I SO badly wanted to lay my head on the desk and just go to sleep.

I spent Tuesday sleeping all day, and also ended up staying home today, Wednesday. Just feeling wiped out. Mostly just a little stuffed up today, and drained. Bleah.

But oh, yeah. The reason I even posted about nightmares in the first place:

So I had a doozy of a nightmare Sunday night, the night before the lovely blood tests.

I was staying with my parents and my sister (and not my husband... automatic nightmare formula right there, due to being surrounded by family, whom I love, but where the heck is my husband??), in Nevada, in one of my co-workers' houses (and no, I don't know which of my co-workers has a house in Nevada), and it's the night before the Gestational Diabetes test.

FYI, I don't live in Nevada.

The dogs are with me.

I arrive late to my co-worker's house. My Sister and Dad are already asleep. Mom is still up, watching tv in bed. I can't find the dogs. I assume someone fed them, after they figured out I was going to be really late. I crash.

Friends of my co-worker wake me up by their talking loudly in the patio area. At 5am. I try to go back to sleep, but can't. I get up, and hunt down the dogs. They are locked up in some strange room, and are very glad to see me. I talk to my family as they wake up, and find out that they were not fed dinner last night!!!! I freak out. Then I figure out I forgot to pack any dog food for this trip, so no-one could have fed them in the first place!

My Sister drives me around town to pick up some dog food. We bring it back. I'm getting hungrier and hungrier, but I'm supposed to be fasting before this blood test. I realize I don't even know where I should go for this blood test in Nevada... will the form I'm carrying even be understood by the local clinics? [I had a situation back home where I went to the place I was used to getting blood drawn, and they couldn't take the form my ObGyn had given me! Not kidding. True story. I had changed ObGyn's, and found out from now on, I could only get blood drawn from such-and-such clinics.]

I'm freaking out. There's some donuts on the breakfast table. I'm soaking the dog food in preparation for feeding it to my poor hungry mutts, and I absentmindedly take a bite of a donut.

I then panic, spitting out the piece of donut into the sink, trying to wipe all the sugar frosting off my tongue, and worrying that I had swallowed some of it, and therefore would not be able to take the test today! But would instead have to redo the 3 day preparational diet prior to the test.

Augh!!!!!

It was at that point that I woke up in real life and started wimpering!!!

I'm honestly surprised that just having blood drawn is not a nightmare for me anymore. But I've had so many blood tests since getting pregnant, and had a bunch back in 1995 when I had mono, that I just can't get the anxiety levels up for it anymore. The childhood trauma I underwent when I was really little has, thank God, finally been overwritten by too many normal, if unpleasant, blood test experiences.

When I was a kid, between the ages of 0 and 5, those lovely formative years, I was in the hospital every year for one or two weeks while they checked to see how I was handling this genetic disease they thought I had. [I don't think I ever truly had it anymore... long story. I was a sick little kid, but I just don't think that was the reason anymore. Either that, or God healed me of it.] Often, they would draw blood in the middle of the night, holding me down to do it. My parents weren't there during the night, and didn't know it was happening, and couldn't comfort me before or after, therefore.

This trauma wasn't my parent's fault, and the hospital felt the blood tests were necessary, so it technically wasn't their fault, either. But it messed with me pretty badly at the time. Has that whole "torture" feel to it. And little kids don't always understand why things are being done to them. I just knew I was powerless to fight back, had no choice in the matter, didn't know why they were doing it to me, and I knew that it was going to hurt.

I think most things are more awful if they happen to you when you are a helpless child. When you're an adult, and you know you could kick the ass of the person currently drawing blood from you, it's just not as traumatic anymore! :)

Hmph. Maybe I'll make sure my son takes karate at a young age. If he knows he can kick the phlebotomist's ass, maybe he won't be as afraid of needles as I used to be. :)

That, and knowing what can happen to children at night alone in the hospital... well... I don't think I'll let my son be alone at night in a hospital until he's old enough to do some ass kicking.

He's probably not going to have similar experiences. He'll probably have a whole new set of traumatic experiences that I can't prepare him for, as I won't be expecting them. Sigh. Guess that's how life works for most of us.

Ok, and on that note, what are the formula's for your recurring nightmares?

Wow. This is a much darker post than I'd intended. Sorry, guys. Maybe I can blame Anne Rice? I just finished rereading Interview with the Vampire, LOL! :)