Tuesday, October 5, 2010

The Panama Experience

While sitting in the conference room where I had been keeping my computer I decided to start a journal of my Panamanian adventures.

I didn’t have internet connectivity because even though they enabled the network for me, they didn’t give me the password. And although I was able to connect on Tuesday, I was unable to connect Wednesday. So I sat there, in the conference room waiting, waiting for something to do. It’s what I did for the five workdays I was there. Wait.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m certainly not complaining. I had a great time here in Panama. The clients that worked with are incredible people. They welcomed me with not just open arms, but with open hearts as well. They saw that all my wants and needs were met. They paid for my flight, and my hotel, even allowing me to stay two extra days so I could explore a bit on my own. I was told to order whatever I want at the four-star resort and charge it to the room. They picked me up and dropped me off, bought me lunch and worked hard to make accommodations for my American ways…even though I preferred otherwise. I truly had a wonderful time; I just wish I felt like I had “earned my keep”.

Three out of the five workdays I was there, I was picked up at about 11:30am- even though the scheduled time was 11am on Monday, 9:30 on Tuesday and 9:00 on Wednesday. In America, if you were two hours late for anything, especially if you didn’t call to tell the person you were running late, you’d be considered a failure, or at the very least, rude.
So when David (my ride) was running two hours behind, I felt like I was running two hours behind and therefore felt responsible for my tardiness-- even though no one cared.

I had heard that Latinos are typically more laid back than us uptight Americans, but I had never really experienced it first-hand. The thing is, it’s not the tardiness that is funny, it’s what comes after the tardiness—at least here in Panama, with these specific employees at this particular company with which I am working.
Like I said, I get picked up at about 11:00am, from there we drive. And drive and drive and drive. Until today I was pretty sure we had been driving in circles, after today, I am positive! I really paid attention this morning. Right turn, left turn, right turn, left turn, left turn, left turn, right turn. It’s like we’re making a really bad etch-a-sketch drawing with the city as our board. The best part is that going home is much different. Going home, we make about four turns. And it takes a quarter of the time to make the trip. Now you might be thinking that this is just because of traffic, but you’d be wrong. On Monday, I had forgotten something at the hotel but it wasn’t until we were about 20 minutes into our drive that I realized it. So I said to Aritza, she’s the one that was driving, “oh no! I forgot the power cords for the ticket printers”. So she said, “okay, I’ll take you back to the hotel.” We were there within five minutes. I asked her why it took 20 minutes to get where we were and only five to get back to the hotel and she just laughed.

Funny stuff, no?

So Monday, I got picked up at 11, get to the office about 12. Then I stand around, sit on the couch, stand around, sit on the couch for 30 minutes—while the boss, Marilyn stand in the middle of the office talking very excitedly on the phone, pacing back and forth with quick little steps while her high heeled shoes clicked on the tile floor in a room with absolutely no sound absorption what-so-ever. Click, click click. Click, click, click. “Muy para donde esta bien importante” I had NO idea what she was actually saying and it was all I could to not bust out laughing at what I was witnessing. It’s not that she was being funny, or like I wanted to make fun of her it was just the entire situation. There I was, sitting in a strange building in a strange country watching my new friend have a very passionate conversation about SOMETHING that sounded very dramatic which abruptly ended in “ciao”. Then she announced something about David and cumpleanos! A minute later Aritza, turned to me and said, “come, we’re going to the store”.

On our way to the store, which is in the same shopping plaza as the office, we ran into Jose. He was coming to tell them that his boss wanted to meet me. So he and I went on and Marilyn and Artiza went to the store.

Jose, is a Chinese-Panamain, who it turns out, speaks Spanish first, then Cantonese and then English. Cool, yeah? Anyway, he takes me up to the top floor of the high-rise next-door to the plaza where I meet, “the boss”. His immaculate office was decorated in a modern fashion and showed not one sign of any actual work being done. I found this even funnier than Marilyn’s click, click, clicking. In fact, I was having a hard time concentrating on my conversation with this guy because all I could think was, “what do you do all day?”
Fortunately, he also spoke English.

After this brief, like five minute encounter, Jose returned me to the ticket office where we quickly decorated David’s desk with the balloons and banners that Marilyn and Aritza had purchased from the, earlier mentioned, store. We finished just in time, because as soon as the last Hershey’s Kiss was strategically placed on his desk, he came sauntering in. We all (the three of us) sang Happy Birthday and giggled like three school girls then Artiza said, “Now you go to lunch with Marilyn”. I thought to myself, what? I’ve only been here 45 minutes! But, okay, I do what I’m told. Besides, I still wasn’t sure what I was in Panama for anyway.
Lunch was at Stizzoli, a small, modern Italian restaurant that offers brick oven pizza. The lunch was a sending-off for a co-worker that was leaving the company. The night before, when Marilyn, her husband Jorge and I were eating a VERY late dinner she asked me my nationality. I told her Italian, but that my family had been in America for several generations. I told her that I didn’t speak Italian and that I had never been to Italy, but she was so excited to introduce me to the owner of the restaurant, telling him that I was Italian. He of course asked me what part of Italy and expected me to speak the language. I just shook my head, laughed and explained. I teased Marilyn for falsifying my culture she just laughed. That led to much more laughter and my “being Italian” has since become an ongoing joke as she thinks it’s funny to introduce me that way.

Speaking of Marilyn, the first night I met her was Sunday when she and her husband picked me up from the airport. After going through immigration and customs I walked through a set of doors to a room full of people waiting to pick up arriving passengers. I scanned the dozens of people and quickly spotted a woman standing with a sign that said, my last name and under that, my company's name. I made eye contact with her, waved and began to approach her. She looked behind her thinking that I was waving at someone else. When she looked back I waved again, that’s when she realized that I was me. A big smile came across her face as she leapt towards me to give me a big welcoming hug. She called her husband over, who had been standing at the other entrance, introduced me to him as Jorge and then asked me if I spoke Spanish, to which I replied “muy piquito”. (I have no idea how to spell that or if it’s even proper Spanish)

“Ahhhhh! No Espanol?”

“Piquito, muy, muy piquito”

“Jorge speak English”

“Ok, good.” I felt a bit relieved.

The introduction continued as we walked from the air conditioned airport out into the thick, balmy, humid, words cannot describe, outdoors. We yammered on for the next 30 minutes in the car then at dinner in the hotel restaurant-- Jorge translating whenever necessary. Talk, talk, talk- much like the clicking of the heels. It was truly delightful. We were having a great time, learning about each other- mostly learning about me. I was asked several questions about my life and my trip and where I’d been and do I have children and what do I like to do for fun and…we just talked, talked, talked. The only difficult part of the conversation was when Jorge asked me what was going on with Arizona’s government. That was a tough conversation to have with the language barrier. Even with Jorge’s good English, I knew some of what I was saying was completely going over his head.

When I got back to my room I was beaming with joy after spending two hours with Jorge and…? Jorge and …? It was then that I realized I didn’t know who had picked me up! Through emails that I had exchanged over the previous months I knew that there was a Kari, a Marilyn and an Aritza, but I had no idea which one I had just met. She didn’t introduce herself, and we got so caught up in our conversation that I didn’t even think to ask. It wasn’t until the next morning when she and Aritza picked me up that I was able to find out who this mystery woman was!

So here’s a funny little, “you know you’re not in the US when…”story for you… When I arrived that the hotel to check in, the front desk attendant informed me that they had assigned me a cabana room that was pool-front but the electricity was going to be turned off at 2am that evening for a couple of hours. I was given the option to move to a standard room if I preferred. I’m pretty convinced that if this was the case at home, I would not have been given the option. I would have just been moved automatically. I, of course, opted to go without power for two hours for one night and enjoy the pool-view the rest of the week. At that point, I didn’t realize just how nice the “pool-view” would be—complete with a private patio conveniently located next to not only the pool, but both within eyeshot of the two restaurants located on the property. It turns out, I really couldn’t have asked for a better room so it was certainly worth sleeping through a power-outage that would take place that night.
Unfortunately, as it was, I wasn’t asleep when the outage took place. I had been Skyping with Brett, telling him about my adventures when all the lights went out. Seconds later my computer died (because the battery sucks) and we were disconnected without getting the chance to say goodbye. I felt my way around the room, using my cell phone as a flashlight and eventually made it to bed; exhausted after a long day of travel and excitement.

By the end of my first day “working” I had sat around, eaten a delicious margarita pizza drizzled with pesto, met dozens of new people who spoke little, if no English at all, and sat around some more.

That night, I returned my hotel around 8pm, ate dinner, a lovely buffet at the restaurant, drank a local beer called “Panama”, talked to Brett on Skype and went to bed, when suddenly my uterus decided to give way that resulted in my waking up in a puddle—it was the disastrous cruise all over again.

Or was it?

Just like the rest of my golden trip to Panama, by the time I was ready to go to work the bleeding had subsided. So although I had a stressful early morning, worrying that I wasn’t going to make it through the day, it turned out to be okay. But I packed two extra changes of clothes, just in case.

That day, I got picked up at 11:30 (it was supposed to be 9:30) and when I got to the office I decided to go up to the IT department to see how things were going. When I got there, the two IT guys I had been working with were trying to trouble-shoot an issue they were having with the system. After much convincing I finally got them to call our IT department to resolve the issue. This was how much of my actual working-time was spent there. The IT guys would talk about something, a lot, for a long time, in Spanish, while I sat there, grasping at familiar words, knowing that they were beating a dead horse, convinced that there was nothing they could do to fix it. When I would ask if there was something I could do to help, they would say “no” and continue their conversation…they are a very passionate people.

This would go on a few more times- me asking if I could help and them saying “no” until finally I would ask what they were talking about and they would tell me, and ta da! I was able to help!! It was borderline hilarious!

Everyone was very stressed out this day because we were meeting with the CEO of the Panamanian equivalent of Wal-Mart that afternoon. This chain of stores had been contracted with to act as remote outlets for ticket sales.

At about 1:30, I was told that I was going to lunch. I was taken to a Brazilian restaurant where I had delicious mystery food and sangria. We finished lunch at 3:30—our meeting was scheduled for 4:00, it was a ten minute car-ride away. We left at 4:08.

The meeting, it turned out, was just with the accounting person at the chain since the CEO had to go to another meeting, because we were late. She didn’t speak any English. They showed her some reports on the system and then they suddenly packed up the laptop and the projector and we left. I had no idea how it went…turns out, it went well. But the best part for me was the ride to and from the meeting. I got to sit in the back seat with Jose, the English-speaking, Chinese, Panamanian. He told me all about their government. About their socialized medicine, government mandated employee benefits and social security. Turns out, everyone insured. There are very few, and I mean VERY few, homeless people. Pregnant women cannot be fired from their jobs while they are pregnant, nor can they be fired for one year after they give birth. They are given three months of FULL PAID leave- one month before the due date and two months after. Employers have to pay their employees for 13 months of work. Everyone is paid on the 1st and the 15th of each month and the 13th month of pay is paid in three installments: 1/3 in April, 1/3 in August and 1/3 in December. This helps boost the economy every four months. Fascinating stuff I tell you, fascinating.

Jose also mentioned that he does not use public healthcare, and although he is taxed for it, he still uses private doctors and hospitals…

The live test, the reason I was there (even though I didn’t know it until two days after I had been there) was to start the next day. Everyone was very nervous about it. My client built a pretend concert event in the system so that the outlet stores could practice selling tickets. At 5:30 on Tuesday they were frantically trying to find 100 people to go to the stores located around the city and buy tickets for five dollars to a fake event.

Tuesday night, I returned to the hotel at about 9pm, ate dinner- a delicious steak with coconut rice and beans, talked to Brett and at midnight I went for a dip in the pool. I had to the whole place to myself. It was delightful.
After a long hot shower, I curled up in my comfy bed, in the chilly air conditioned room under the warm down comforter and slept like a baby.

Wednesday morning:

Up at 7:30, dressed and ready to go by 9:00 for my 9:30 pick up…David arrived at 11:00. This day I brought my camera. I started taking pictures as we pulled out of the hotel, just to document the route to the office. David decided to take the scenic route. We passed by the Pacific Ocean, went through a private gated community, stopped by his house to pick something up, drove through the ghetto (a neighborhood where even the police won’t go after dark) and finally arrived at the office at 1:00pm. When we got there, I was told to go over to Quiznos to have lunch with Aritza. So I did. I thought I had ordered a spicy chicken sandwich with pepper-jack cheese (based on the picture) but it turned out it was a chicken sandwich with honey mustard. Good thing I like honey mustard.

After lunch I sat around and waited until David said, “let’s go!”. I was told that I was going to one of the stores to buy some tickets. I asked if I should help the sales person if he or she had any trouble processing the order. I was told “no, this is just for practice.” When we got to the store, David went behind the counter, messed around with the computer, processed an order, printed a ticket and we left. I had done nothing and I was confused. When got out to the parking lot I asked David what had just happened, he tried to explain but I wasn’t sure I understood. It seemed like he was saying that they could not use the system because there was no icon on the desktop. I told him I could fix it, but he said no, so we left.

Turns out, there was a virus on the computer. I guess that makes sense.
That night, Aritza took me out for dinner and a show at a Panamanian restaurant. We ate yummy appetizers and I ordered chicken which came with a side of coconut rice sprinkled with black beans. She ordered the Yucca Pot Pie (at least that’s what I’m calling it) and it was out of this world! It was chicken and vegetables in a gravy covered with mashed Yucca and baked. Kind of like a shepherd’s pie. If you’ve never tried yucca, I highly recommend it. So good!

Got back to the hotel, called Brett and went to sleep. The next day was going to be a busy one, full of meetings about how the live test had gone the day before.
Thursday morning, I woke up, showered, got dressed, ate breakfast and wait for the phone in my room to ring telling me that David was there to pick me up. He was supposed to be there at 9. When he hadn’t arrived at 11, I wasn’t too worried, I assumed he was just running later than usual. I decided to just lie on the bed and wait. At 12:30, I woke up from an unexpected nap, looked and the clock and thought, hmmm…guess he’s running especially late, but I still wasn’t too worried. Come 2:00 I decided it was time to be a little concerned so I called Jose (because he speaks English) and told him that I hadn’t heard from anyone yet today and asked if he knew what was going on. He was very surprised and extremely apologetic. I told him there was nothing to apologize for, I just wanted to be sure everything and everyone was okay. He told me he’d find out and send me an email to let me know. At this point I was starving, so I went to lunch and when I came back to my room I had a message that said, “I’m so sorry we were not able to pick you up today. I will call you later if we can pick you up.” I took this to mean that they may still pick me up, so I sat in my room and waited.

At 6:00 I decided they probably weren’t coming and that it was safe to leave my room. So I did. I went for a walk around the block. A miserable walk around the block. It was so hot and the air was so thick it was all I could do to get back to my room. I hung around in the AC for a bit then went to the bar, had some sangria, ate an empanada, came back to my room, Skyped with Brett and went to bed.
Friday would be last day working with my client and I was sad. I had made new friends with people who really touched my heart. Their warmth and hospitality made me feel like I had known them forever. Even though we didn’t speak the same language, we managed to communicate. In this short period of time we had establish inside jokes, were able to tease each other about our inability to speak the other’s language and we managed to get stuff done- working as a team despite our vast differences. And although I didn’t feel like I had done much to help them, they were very pleased with what we were able to accomplish.

I was planning to be picked up at 9:30 because that’s what time I was told, which by this point I knew actually meant 11:00, but only seconds after my alarm went off at 7:30, my phone rang. It was Marilyn calling to tell me she was going to be there at 8:30. Crap! That was NOT enough time to get ready and eat breakfast!! So I rushed. I had just finished doing my hair when the phone rang. It was 8:40 and she was in the lobby waiting for me.

When we got to the office, we sat around and chatted for a while, I went next door to Subway and got a Veggie Delight for breakfast and then we headed to the main building for a meeting with the CEO.

Jorge was incredibly kind, well spoken, and surprisingly calm and level headed. We (they) discussed the live test and talked about ways to make their process better. I was able to offer some assistance and everyone seemed pleased with the results, knowing that it was not quite perfect yet, but with time, it would get better and easier. I was amazed. For some reason, I kept thinking that there would be some kind of drama, but there wasn’t. It was just easy. Everything had been easy.
After the meeting, the girls I had been working with so closely throughout the week, took me to see the Panama Canal. We got there just in time. A huge ship was actually moving through the Miraflores Lock, and I got to witness it! We dined in the classy restaurant located on the viewing deck and I got to see firsthand just how the Panama Canal worked. It was incredible. I felt very lucky.

When we returned to the office we had one last meeting to go over some reports that showed the data from the last two days and then I had to say goodbye. Hugs and kisses all around.

I was dropped off at the hotel at about 6pm. I ate pizza for dinner that night and enjoyed the amazing dessert buffet, called Brett, painted my nails, took a nice hot shower, watched some TV and went to bed-- ready for the next day’s adventure into the rainforest to spend the day with the Embera Indians.

Friday, June 25, 2010

I should also mention...

We started foster parenting classes last week and we're both really excited about the possibilities. So I just want to go on record as saying that this funk is not because my life sucks and I'm feeling sorry for myself, it's because I just feel awful, physically and it's very, very frustrating.

On my way to go buy a kiddie pool. I really think that will make me feel so much better.

Here's the deal...

I'm in a funk. A serious funk. I'll probably (hopefully) be okay in a day or two, but it may be longer. This may be the real thing. A REAL funk not just a bad mood or feeling down for a few days.

I can't remember if I blogged about the cruise. I don't think I did. The first of June Brett and I went on a cruise with my family to the Bahamas. It was really great spending time with my family just hanging out. The problem is that that's all I COULD do. I ended up getting my period the night before we left and it ended up being a real doozie. Like words can't describe the extremes of how bad it was. Suffice it to say that Saturday morning I went to the Lido deck for breakfast, sat down to eat, coughed, realized I needed to rush to the bathroom, stood up and dripped, literally DRIPPED all over the floor-- all while wearing THREE pads, like a diaper. It was bad. I spent the rest of the day in our cabin, moving from the bed to the shower every half hour. Needless to say it was quite miserable.

My mom and Gramma witness this episode and made me promise I would go to the doctor. As soon as we got to the mainland I called the doctor's office and made an appointment for the next day.

She ran all the typical blood work plus a full thyroid panel, hormone levels and some deficiencies including vitamin D and Iron plus she tested my sedimentation rate which check for inflammation. This test can determine whether you need to be tested further for things like lupus, rheumatoid arthritis, cancer, etc.

Now don't get too worried. As far as I know I don't have a life threatening disease. Even though that "scary" test came back positive for inflammation, I also tested positive for anemia which according to the research I did makes the former, null and void so I'm not rushing off to the rheumatologist just yet. I've been taking the prescribed iron supplements twice a day as directed and plan to get retested this week to see if my sed rate is better.

So where does the funk come from? Well it comes from extreme exhaustion. Like ridiculously extreme exhaustion. It's almost like the mono is back...maybe it never left. But this is a little different, plus I had felt completely fine for half of April and all of May. So I'm giving the credit to the anemia. This exhaustion is full body, including the mind and the mind is the most aggravating part. I constantly feel like I'm 10 seconds behind everything that's going on around me. I feel like my personality is gone, my sense of humor is missing and my funny has escaped. On top of this I feel the need for sunlight but it's too damned hot to be outside. Not to mention that whole exhaustion thing again which requires me to fight to stay awake.

I'm so effin sick of looking at the television. My ears feel like they're going to bleed if I have to listen to one more TV show. All I want to do is cry. I want to leave my house, go DO SOMETHING, but I can't think of anything to do that meets my needs and limitations.

I have this inexplicable urge to be at the beach- to lay on the beach and soak up the warm sun surrounded by fresh salty air, the crashing of the waves becoming white noise in the background and the water just feet away. But that's not an option this weekend.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!! I'm going CRAZY!!!

I think I might go buy a kiddie pool and set it up in the backyard tomorrow.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Coming Clean

Yeah, I know, it's been close to forever since I last posted. I had good intentions but life got in the way. First it was the Mono, then it was travel then it was...forgotten about, then...put off, and off some more and off a little longer.

So what's been going on for the last few months? Well other than THE MONO incident, a trip to Gatlinburg, camping with friends at the lake and going to the beach with family-- not a whole heck of a lot. Oh wait, there was something else...we tried a round of clomid a few weeks back.

WHAT?! CLOMID? You mean you took it and didn't tell anyone?!?!?!

Yes, yes I did and it was miserable. I felt fine- hormonally and physically. I never experienced any side effects. That could be because it didn't work, but it could also be that I am just lucky. Lucky enough to not experience hot flashes, mood swings, headaches, etc. Did I mention it didn't work? Yeah, that's probably why.

Although I thought maybe it was working at the time, it turns out, according the blood tests that my progesterone levels did not indicate ovulation.

The funny thing is that even if it HAD worked, I still wouldn't have gotten pregnant. You see, there's this really important part of getting pregnant called SEX. That which, I made sure not to have after chickening out about getting pregnant at what was assumed, the last minute. Did you follow that? I think that sentence was kind of confusing. Let me rephrase the whole paragraph.

I took the clomid, on cycle days 5-9. According to the directions we were supposed to start doing, what all the message boards call, "the baby dance", on the 10th day. So the tenth day came and it was time to DO IT. What I thought would be this magical, highly anticipated dance, turned out to be nothing but miserable. The stress of it was so overwhelming that I just wanted to cry. It was awful.

We went camping the next day and when we came home I realized that I just couldn't even try. I was scared. Scared of being fat and pregnant. Actually, scared is not the right word. More like terrified. So I chickened out.

It's weird. I feel like I made the right decision, but at the same time I can't decide if I'm being selfish. I'm not asking for your opinion. I know you all support whatever I do and want me to be happy and healthy, but I just feel kind of...bad.

I know Brett is ready to have a baby. I know I'm ready to have a baby. I know what ever baby is in there is ready to become a baby, but I don't want to go through a pregnancy not even being able to tell that I am carrying a child. I want to be able to feel that baby, I want Brett to be able to feel it too. I want to have external belly ultrasounds, not internal vaginal ones because they can't see through the fat. I want people to be able to identify my pregnant belly. I want to be healthy and I want my child to be healthy. I know fat women get pregnant and have babies all the time, but I'm afraid to be one of them.

When the nurse called to tell me that I hadn't ovulated, she said that she was going to call in a new RX for the higher dose. I haven't picked it up yet. Don't know if or when I will.

For now, Brett and I are going to the gym, trying to eat better (as always) and trying to focus on summer vacations and anything and everything that doesn't involve US having a baby.

One more thing-- I need more than two hands to count how many friends and family members have either had beautiful, healthy babies or found out they were pregnant in the past three months.

Baby fever is hard to avoid.

Monday, March 8, 2010

So it's been a while! WARNING: (WAY) TMI to follow...

I have a tendency to write when I'm irritated and not so much when I'm feeling good. I THINK this is healthy. I like to think that writing gets it all out and when I'm feeling good I'm busy being happy. BUT, I don't want this to be a "downer blog" where everyone who reads just feels sorry for me all the time. Of course I have many difficulties and frustrations, but I also have many blessings in my life that I am thankful for every day.

So, okay, enough about that...

What has happened since my last entry? Well, A LOT of good things...minus the continued bleeding. Yes people, we're going on a whopping TWENTY-FIVE-MOTHER-EFFING DAYS! Last weekend was REALLY bad. There were many "blunderwear" casualties, as Brett likes to call them. Many calls from the bathroom..."BRETT!!! Will you please bring me some underwear?" He's a good sport. Never complains, might huff a little, but is sensitive to my frustrations. By the third day I decided to just grab a handful of clean pairs and left them next to the toilet. Took me long enough to figure that one out! DUH!

Nights were spent wearing what I called diapers. Basically three pads one running vertically and two on either end running horizontally. Not comfortable at all, and still hardly effective. Brett slept in the guest room and I slept on a towel. It was awesome. NOT!

We barely left the house, and when we did, we had to stay close to home in case I had an "accident". Pretty ridiculous eh?

By Tuesday it had slowed down enough to feel "normal" again, but it's still hanging on even today. Just enough to be annoying.

###

So here's a funny story for you...especially those of you wondering how I had strained my back last week---

Because of all this bleeding, I decided to try a new "period management method". Anyone heard of the Diva cup? Yeah, well if you haven't, it's basically a pliable, funnel shaped, silicone dixie-cup with a "stem" at the bottom. Sound like fun yet?

Well the genius that invented this was obviously very dexterous and fearless of potentially losing plastic utensils in HIS or her vagina.

There are two sizes to choose from. 1 and 2. 1 is for those under 30 who have never had children. 2 is for those over 30 whether you've had children or not- since I'm 32 I paid $40.00 dollars for the #2. Both sizes are actually the same price, but I wanted you to know how much I "invested" in the this little "project".

So, I buy this miracle contraption that fits into my "green" lifestyle which will keep me from adding to the landfill, save me money since this one-time investment will last about two years, AND, I'll only have to "deal" with it every twelve hours or so because that's the nature of the design.

Excited to try it out, I get home from the store. The specialty store I might add. The specialty store that's about 30 miles away and rush into the bathroom thinking this is going to make my life SOOOOO much easier!

Boy was I wrong. I know I could just leave it at this and that you could fill in the blanks, but I want to be sure you truly understand what I went through. It goes a bit like this...

I told you it was pliable right? Yeah, well, not really! Especially since in order to insert it you have to fold it in half, TWICE! Are you following me here?

The directions, (almost) verbatim:

Step 1: Fold- press the sides of the cup together and fold it in half again forming a tight U.

Step 2: With one hand, hold the sides firmly together with you thumb on one side and your *four (4) fingers on the other side just below the top ridge of the cup.

*I guess if you're missing fingers you're SOL

Step 3: Take a comfortable position, with your free hand...(blah, blah you get the idea)

WARNING: DO NOT push the stem further than 1/2 inch into the vagina. (who the hell knows how far that is??) Inserting the Diva Cup too high may cause leaks. Over insertion may also make removal more difficult. (or impossible!)

Step 4: You ready for this one? This is my favorite...

Step 4: IMPORTANT: Finally, in order to the create the seal with the vaginal muscle, grip the base of the cup (not the stem) and turn the cup one full rotation (360 degrees) in either direction.

It goes on, but that's the gist of it. You got it? Think you can do it?

I just realized that the directions on their website make it sound much simpler. I'm pretty sure they do that for a reason. The old bait and switch...vag style!

Here I am, sitting on the toilet, one leg up on the side of the bathtub, trying to shove this thing up in me.

I'm here to tell you, there is nothing "Diva" about this cup! It requires, strong, nimble, fingers; flexibility; a strong will to stick a plastic mug all up in your business and absolute confidence in your ability to yank it back out...later.

After twenty minutes of folding and shoving, folding and shoving, folding, folding and folding again, and eventual success with insertion, I put my foot back on the floor and attempted to sit upright only to find that my back had seized up during this process. It hurt so bad it took my breath away. Can we say, AWESOME! Again? Oh hell yeah!

I left it in for a couple of hours. As long as I was sitting I couldn't feel it, but walking was quite uncomfortable. The cup isn't any bigger than other "things" that regularly go up in there (I know TMI, but I have to defend Brett here!) however, husbands don't feel like bendy dixie cups and don't require FOLDING. Nor do they have to be removed by pulling on what becomes a very slippery plastic tab.

Luckily removal only took about three minutes and although the aching back made it feel like an eternity, I had done it! I had successfully used the Diva Cup. After which I quickly washed it out, placed it in it's cute little Diva pouch, and threw it in the back of the cupboard where it will sit until after I give birth and can work up the never to try again. (highly unlikely)

There goes $40.00...I'm sticking to pads and tampons.

###

So on to other things. My Stacey, knowing I struggle with organization and keeping a clean house, recommended a book to me called "Sink Reflections". I picked it up at the Library last week and am LOVING it! I'm not following it to a "T", but it is giving me direction and a feeling of empowerment to gain and maintain control of my home. One of the best lines in the book is, "you can't organize clutter". SO TRUE! I never thought about it, but it's true. That's what I've been trying to do: organize all the crap in my life instead of just purging it.

I am now working to surround myself with only the things I either: use, love or to which I have a personal connection. This means, clothes that I no longer wear are gone, even IF they still have the tags on them. The two extra knife blocks that were cluttering the kitchen because I MIGHT need them are gone and the "bar" where we stored our liquor has been replaced with a pretty lamp, a candle and a plant. Of course I didn't get rid of the alcohol, but I found a home for it-- in the cupboard where the dead blender than I "might be able to fix" once lived. The bottles always bugged me seeing them there on the sideboard in the dining room. I thought it looked trashy, but now it's gone and every time I walk in that room I just see pretty things which makes me super happy!

Additionally, last week we ate EVERY meal at home. I think that's a first for us. In fact I KNOW it is. We've tried in the past, but something has always come up, whether a legitimate reason or a lame excuse, we've never made it an ENTIRE week of just eating at home and I have to admit, it feels REALLY GOOD!!

This weekend we got so much done outside. The beautiful weather helped of course, but it was amazing to come inside after a long day's work, put dinner in the oven, take a hot shower and just relax feeling a sense of accomplishment and no guilt!

It's so easy to be self destructive yet even EASIER to NOT be?? The lazy, apathetic and self-loathing snowball grows so quickly that it's hard to make it stop but all it takes is a little sunshine to melt it all away allowing for motivation, accomplishments and JOY! Hooray for spring! Literally and figuratively.

Okay, I think I've written enough for today and even though I feel like I could go on and on and on I will end here for now.

Monday, March 1, 2010

oh, one more thing...

Brett is back to working in the office four days a week, and I'm thinking that's going to be his excuse for not getting his sperm checked. He's "cute" like that. :D

But also, while I'm at it, I should take a minute to brag on him a bit even though what I really want right now is a nap--

My husband is truly incredible. As I mentioned in my last post...all of like five minutes ago- he's lost 25lbs! And even though I really want to hate him for it, I just can't. I'm so happy for him! I want to say I'm proud of him because I have a problem with that word. I don't think I have the right to be proud of other people. Pride is something you take in the things YOU do. I will be proud of my children, but I can't be proud of my husband. He's the one making the choices. He is CHOOSING hard boiled eggs and cottage cheese over fast food and chips. He is CHOOSING to be more active; to go places and do things rather than veg on the couch.

He's pretty awesome, in every sense of the word. I am in awe of his patience, passion, compassion, willingness to try new things, ability to love me even when I'm hardly lovable. He is caring, loving, affectionate and always striving to improve.

After my first marriage I wrote a list of requirements should I ever get married again. The list consisted of 20 traits I thought would make up the person I wanted to be with.

I recently re-read that list and am happy to report that Brett is 18 of the 20. He truly is my perfect match. He is what I knew I wanted and needed years before I ever met him.

Not only do I LOVE him, but I appreciate all of who he is and am so grateful that I get to spend the rest of my life with him.

:-)

An Exhausting Weekend...

Well it turns out that Friday was just the beginning of the carnage. Today, Monday, three days later, I'm finally able to feel confident about leaving the house. Finally wearing pants and finally feeling a little less disgusting.

Today, I'm just tired. So tired I can hardly keep my eyes open...gee I wonder why? Doctors say that the average woman loses just a few teaspoons of blood during a normal period, but I'm here to say that it's possible to lose WAY more than that!

I really want to go into all the details just so everyone know EXACTLY what I'm talking about, because really, it's quite impressive. But it's also so incredibly disgusting that I should just leave it at that.

As for baby making...

Umm, well, there's not much of that going on right now either. DUH! But my mom called me this morning to tell me that she heard on the radio, March is the month of fertility. :-D We'll see about that!

For now we're focusing on our mini vacation at the end of the month; a cabin with friends in Gatlinburg. As well as hoping Brett gets a raise this month and that we can both lose some weight. (he's down 25 lbs, that bastard!) MEN!

That's all I've got right now. Don't really have the energy to write anything interesting for funny, or with any amount of enthusiasm what-so-ever.

Can we say "extreme amount of blood loss equal complete lack of energy?" Hello Vitamins with extra Iron!

I hope I can make it through the rest of the day!