I am 5 days deep in Gonal-F. For the unfamiliar this is where I shoot myself up in my belly fat with follicle stimulating hormone for 8 or so days. This is in the hope of getting up to 20 mature ovarian follicles that can be sucked out with a big needle transvaginally (I was going to say up my coochie but goddamn it I am a doctor and we are adults) either this coming Friday or next Monday. Thankfully this big needle will be wielded while I am under sedation, in an operating theatre.
There are a few more stages to get through before the ova are collected, different injections, one of which stops ovulation from occurring prior to harvest, and another which gets the ova in the right spot within the follicle.
I was really worried about the side effects of the IVF, mainly that the drugs would cause hormonal fluctuations that'd make my hormones and mood go cray cray. However, so far, it has been tolerable.
I have had a bit of a headache.
I have felt a bit queasy (alternately feeling hungry sick and wanting to eat all the things, then feeling full-sick and sorry that I have eaten all the things).
I have become aware of the presence of my ovaries. This is not surprising. They go from about the size of a date or just larger, to the size of an orange, thereabouts. There are twinges when this occurs.
I can't go quite as hard as I previously would have at Crossfit. I am still doing Crossfit, though.
I have been taking to bed early and with enthusiasm. I am good in bed!
Not too much in the way of mood lability, thankfully.
So I will know more when I have my stimulation ultrasound tomorrow.
More to the point, for a moment the other evening, I had a moment where, rather than imagining all the things that could go wrong, I was able to imagine that things go well. Maybe the treatment works, I have a healthy baby which I can look after without too much trouble.
I have been under a bit of a cloud - it's hard to allow yourself too much hope after a miscarriage and months of not getting pregnant. It was good to have some hope that things will be ok. It's novel at the moment. Nothing is guaranteed.
I am doing OK, in other words.
Meanwhile, there have been some other good distractions.
I have had a couple of pieces of jewellery commissioned - some earrings and a necklace, by a local jeweller. They are lovely and I feel very special wearing them. They are made from some bits and pieces of diamond jewellery I had but didn't wear. Incorporating the old into the new - very poetic.
I participated in a crossfit competition last weekend. I had a terrific time and hit a personal best lift (47.5kg power clean). I improved my standing from last year's comp - I was somewhere near the bottom last year; this year I am smack bang in the middle. One year older, a lot stronger and fitter.
I have rediscovered my thermomix, in particular making soups and vegetable purees. Cauliflower and potato is a good mix. I am also giving the slow cooker a good workout.
I am loving Masterchef, which is on at present. Am gonna go back to watching that.
Sunday, 25 June 2017
Tuesday, 13 June 2017
Big, strong and useful - some late-night thoughts
For me, it is not so much the childlessness that is the issue with being subfertile. My heart leaps when I see little ones smiling, but I know that there can be significant challenges involved in raising children.
It is the feeling of somehow being less than whole, of being physically inferior. Not capable. Bad. Maybe being punished for something. Maybe if I had just stayed with my ex, maybe if I were a bit slimmer.....and I stop going down that rabbit hole there. The general theme is "not good enough" that besets so many people, myself included.
There are things that I do that bolster my self esteem.
My work, for instance. I take pride in (mostly) calmly and efficiently solving difficult problems, (mostly) with good humour.
At crossfit, I can be big, strong, loud and powerful. Lift heavy things and roar like a tigress.
I have rediscovered cooking, selling things on ebay, Kmart. I like to be thrifty. I hate to waste.
I have found my tribe of friends, friends who make me feel good when I am with them. I am sticking by them.
The feeling of being bad is close to the surface, though.
My mum and I have had an increasingly fraught relationship. She has had her own issues, and is being rendered helpless by them.
Our interactions have consisted pretty much solely of her complaining about her situation, talking at me. Loudly, as she is a bit deaf. Also asking for money quite regularly. as she is not working at the moment.
She has had a hard life and I have always felt a bit responsible for her. This, and the "not good enough" theme, have cost me some tens of thousands of dollars in therapy. That's why I pay somebody - it might all get a bit repetitive debriefing to a friend.
Lately, though, I have felt resentful. I don't ask for her support. Not really. I have not had any significant emotional or material support from her in about 15 years. I don't expect it. She has had a hard life. But there are some not insignificant expenses of my own. I am the family money pit.
At this time in my life, all I want from her is "pleasant adult interactions" - nice cuppa tea, game of scrabble, a movie. I get angry with her, and then I feel guilty. It's not helping me. It makes me feel small and I can't really deal with it at the moment.
So a wall has been thrown up. I think, all things being equal, it's better that contact is limited at present. Do I feel guilty? Sure, but it's low level. Not the corrosive back and forth of the anger, frustration and remorse.
It is the feeling of somehow being less than whole, of being physically inferior. Not capable. Bad. Maybe being punished for something. Maybe if I had just stayed with my ex, maybe if I were a bit slimmer.....and I stop going down that rabbit hole there. The general theme is "not good enough" that besets so many people, myself included.
There are things that I do that bolster my self esteem.
My work, for instance. I take pride in (mostly) calmly and efficiently solving difficult problems, (mostly) with good humour.
At crossfit, I can be big, strong, loud and powerful. Lift heavy things and roar like a tigress.
I have rediscovered cooking, selling things on ebay, Kmart. I like to be thrifty. I hate to waste.
I have found my tribe of friends, friends who make me feel good when I am with them. I am sticking by them.
The feeling of being bad is close to the surface, though.
My mum and I have had an increasingly fraught relationship. She has had her own issues, and is being rendered helpless by them.
Our interactions have consisted pretty much solely of her complaining about her situation, talking at me. Loudly, as she is a bit deaf. Also asking for money quite regularly. as she is not working at the moment.
She has had a hard life and I have always felt a bit responsible for her. This, and the "not good enough" theme, have cost me some tens of thousands of dollars in therapy. That's why I pay somebody - it might all get a bit repetitive debriefing to a friend.
Lately, though, I have felt resentful. I don't ask for her support. Not really. I have not had any significant emotional or material support from her in about 15 years. I don't expect it. She has had a hard life. But there are some not insignificant expenses of my own. I am the family money pit.
At this time in my life, all I want from her is "pleasant adult interactions" - nice cuppa tea, game of scrabble, a movie. I get angry with her, and then I feel guilty. It's not helping me. It makes me feel small and I can't really deal with it at the moment.
So a wall has been thrown up. I think, all things being equal, it's better that contact is limited at present. Do I feel guilty? Sure, but it's low level. Not the corrosive back and forth of the anger, frustration and remorse.
Sunday, 28 May 2017
What happened to the impromptu cuppa?
I've been doing a bit on my own recently. Coffee-ing. Eating. Doing things. Like on Saturday, I saw the Van Gogh exhibition. It was ok. Very crowded. Not my favourite work of his. But glad I got to see it.
I am quite comfortable in solitude, and enjoy it sometimes, but it gets a bit lonely.
My intellectual crush, Alain de Botton, stated recently on social media that loneliness was a common part of the human condition. We text rather than have live face on face time. Often these text discussions peter out. The response to "how are you doing?" is rarely truthful in a text conversation. I have gotten out of the habit of being able to talk on the phone - I am as guilty of text volleys as the next person.
I am finding myself craving an impromptu cuppa and heart to heart with a person. I didn't even know I was craving it, I worked it out. I managed to catch up with a friend yesterday, a day after the need was identified. It was great, and much needed. I felt so much better. I am lucky that I have a friend I can call upon to do this.
So often we are planning catch ups weeks in advance, our lives being as over-scheduled as they are, but sometimes company is needed in the here and now (or soon), I am finding.
Therapeutic chats out of the way, I have also been doing some therapeutic buying.
Here are some things I have dropped some cash on:
1. Witchery Fine fold over knit
I have not been a fan of the off-the shoulder thing, as it makes me look wider than I actually am. However this top works if I sit it on my shoulders or a bit skew-whiff (looks a bit Parisian, too).
2. Nars All Day Luminous Weightless foundation
I have been on the hunt for a new foundation. I didn't know until recently that stores like Mecca or Myer will give you a generous sample to try at home.
I had been tossing up between Lancome's Teint Idole Ultra wear and this one. I found the Lancome too heavily fragranced. The positive of the Lancome though is that it has an SPF. The Nars stays on really well, and is less inclined to turn into an oil slick come 1pm.
3. Lipstick Queen Sinner (matte) in Hot Rose
I had been out and about in Northland (or Norflands as it is known to the Locals). I idly went into Mecca (bad idea as more often than not I end up dropping cash there). I tried this lippy on, with no intention of buying it. I loved myself sick in it, and put it down as a therapeutic purchase. My Mac Rebel signature lippy look is getting a bit stale and things needed shaking up anyway. It's not very feminist, but a pop of bright lipstick makes me feel good.
Only thing is that it comes off really easily, like on a few sips of liquid. To this end, I bought myself a universal (clear) lip liner from Sephora ($14).
Anyone ever tried a clear lip liner?
Does anyone else lament the decline of the impromptu cuppa and chinwag?
I am quite comfortable in solitude, and enjoy it sometimes, but it gets a bit lonely.
My intellectual crush, Alain de Botton, stated recently on social media that loneliness was a common part of the human condition. We text rather than have live face on face time. Often these text discussions peter out. The response to "how are you doing?" is rarely truthful in a text conversation. I have gotten out of the habit of being able to talk on the phone - I am as guilty of text volleys as the next person.
I am finding myself craving an impromptu cuppa and heart to heart with a person. I didn't even know I was craving it, I worked it out. I managed to catch up with a friend yesterday, a day after the need was identified. It was great, and much needed. I felt so much better. I am lucky that I have a friend I can call upon to do this.
So often we are planning catch ups weeks in advance, our lives being as over-scheduled as they are, but sometimes company is needed in the here and now (or soon), I am finding.
Therapeutic chats out of the way, I have also been doing some therapeutic buying.
Here are some things I have dropped some cash on:
1. Witchery Fine fold over knit
I have not been a fan of the off-the shoulder thing, as it makes me look wider than I actually am. However this top works if I sit it on my shoulders or a bit skew-whiff (looks a bit Parisian, too).
2. Nars All Day Luminous Weightless foundation
I have been on the hunt for a new foundation. I didn't know until recently that stores like Mecca or Myer will give you a generous sample to try at home.
I had been tossing up between Lancome's Teint Idole Ultra wear and this one. I found the Lancome too heavily fragranced. The positive of the Lancome though is that it has an SPF. The Nars stays on really well, and is less inclined to turn into an oil slick come 1pm.
3. Lipstick Queen Sinner (matte) in Hot Rose
I had been out and about in Northland (or Norflands as it is known to the Locals). I idly went into Mecca (bad idea as more often than not I end up dropping cash there). I tried this lippy on, with no intention of buying it. I loved myself sick in it, and put it down as a therapeutic purchase. My Mac Rebel signature lippy look is getting a bit stale and things needed shaking up anyway. It's not very feminist, but a pop of bright lipstick makes me feel good.
Only thing is that it comes off really easily, like on a few sips of liquid. To this end, I bought myself a universal (clear) lip liner from Sephora ($14).
Anyone ever tried a clear lip liner?
Does anyone else lament the decline of the impromptu cuppa and chinwag?
Monday, 22 May 2017
Oh Masterchef, come ON! Writing without judgement.
I am watching Masterchef. It has become ridiculous. Getting amateur chefs to make sugar balloons to suspend an icecream (sorry, semifreddo) in thin air. I may sound churlish here but I really don't see the point.
Oh who am I kidding. I would be all over the chocolatey, Icecreamy goodness.
Speaking of which, I had a life-changingly good chocolate gelato at Zero Gradi with a mate last night.
I've been a bit dead on the blog recently. I know. It's all very same-old.
I have just heard of a GP colleague who has won a major literary award, one that launches careers. And I think "good on her". And I think that it is time that I start writing again. Just writing, without worrying that I am not bringing the everyday to life as well as my mates SSG and FF.
Writing without judgement. Maybe some doodling (drawing) without judgement?
My life is the same. Work. A bit of Research. All the crossfit. Nothing particularly interesting. I guess that this is the reason why I have stopped writing.
Nobody will want to hear that I got THREE PBs THE WEEK BEFORE LAST!!
(50kg bench, 45kg CNJ, 32.5kg snatch). My Double-Unders have gone AWOL. I can jump on a 20 inch sinking foam box but I still get scared, my pull-up is edging closer and closer. I can latch my feet and arms around a hanging rope and shimmy up a little bit but not that far. I have a bruise on my inner thigh from attempting this.
Also edging closer is the IVF. Late next month. Next cycle I start getting shot up with hormones like a dodgy dairy cow. I am worried about the effects on my mood - my luteal phase sends me cray cray at the best of times, I worry what the hormonal peaks and troughs will do to my brain. The IVF therapists seem to play this down. There are plenty of other things that are vexing about the process - the attrition of the gametes/conceptus, the waiting, the driving, the ultrasounds. Et Cetera.
Still, I'm strapped in. For one round, anyway.
The embryo will be tested for genetic abnormalities, and frozen awaiting the results. So while the cells are on ice, I am going away. We are heading to Bali (Canggu, it has a Crossfit box) and then I am turning around and going off to Arizona for an update in Cardiology for generalists. Nice surrounds, near the Grand Canyon, I get to fly at the pointy end of the plane, and I don't have to get my juniors to explain all the new fangled tests and interventions to me. A distraction. Then back in to get the winning blastocysts shot in, and fingers crossed one of the winners happily and firmly and healthily and properly embeds itself in my endometrium. But that's another round of uncertainty. I will cross that bridge when I come to it.
It's frustrating, not being able to plan things. Still, I have a good knack for making the best of the uncertain situation, don't you agree? Bali! Arizona! Yeah!
I have let go of a few things that are a bit stressful. Taken a step back from people who have that effect on me. Put some work things into perspective and adopted a "que sera, sera" approach. There are stressors that remain, apart from the IVF.
One of my entourage (sounds much better than "my psychiatrist") pointed out that A. I might be lacking a little bit in the close supports department and B. I am also pretty shit at asking for help. It's true that generally I am more comfortable in the caring role than the one being cared for, but now and in the future, I have to see my way to mobilising those supports I do have. I have some gorgeous friends who live close. One of my friends suggested a "safe word" to send out the distress signal. We were eating gelato so we thought that "gelato" might be a good safe word.
I also need to moderate my social media use (I have already unfollowed a few mummies). I need to read good books and see good movies. Nice, funny ones. Not "Bridget Jones' Baby". That shit set me off, big time. Cried all over my dinner.
Any suggestions?
Oh who am I kidding. I would be all over the chocolatey, Icecreamy goodness.
Speaking of which, I had a life-changingly good chocolate gelato at Zero Gradi with a mate last night.
I've been a bit dead on the blog recently. I know. It's all very same-old.
I have just heard of a GP colleague who has won a major literary award, one that launches careers. And I think "good on her". And I think that it is time that I start writing again. Just writing, without worrying that I am not bringing the everyday to life as well as my mates SSG and FF.
Writing without judgement. Maybe some doodling (drawing) without judgement?
My life is the same. Work. A bit of Research. All the crossfit. Nothing particularly interesting. I guess that this is the reason why I have stopped writing.
Nobody will want to hear that I got THREE PBs THE WEEK BEFORE LAST!!
(50kg bench, 45kg CNJ, 32.5kg snatch). My Double-Unders have gone AWOL. I can jump on a 20 inch sinking foam box but I still get scared, my pull-up is edging closer and closer. I can latch my feet and arms around a hanging rope and shimmy up a little bit but not that far. I have a bruise on my inner thigh from attempting this.
Also edging closer is the IVF. Late next month. Next cycle I start getting shot up with hormones like a dodgy dairy cow. I am worried about the effects on my mood - my luteal phase sends me cray cray at the best of times, I worry what the hormonal peaks and troughs will do to my brain. The IVF therapists seem to play this down. There are plenty of other things that are vexing about the process - the attrition of the gametes/conceptus, the waiting, the driving, the ultrasounds. Et Cetera.
Still, I'm strapped in. For one round, anyway.
The embryo will be tested for genetic abnormalities, and frozen awaiting the results. So while the cells are on ice, I am going away. We are heading to Bali (Canggu, it has a Crossfit box) and then I am turning around and going off to Arizona for an update in Cardiology for generalists. Nice surrounds, near the Grand Canyon, I get to fly at the pointy end of the plane, and I don't have to get my juniors to explain all the new fangled tests and interventions to me. A distraction. Then back in to get the winning blastocysts shot in, and fingers crossed one of the winners happily and firmly and healthily and properly embeds itself in my endometrium. But that's another round of uncertainty. I will cross that bridge when I come to it.
It's frustrating, not being able to plan things. Still, I have a good knack for making the best of the uncertain situation, don't you agree? Bali! Arizona! Yeah!
I have let go of a few things that are a bit stressful. Taken a step back from people who have that effect on me. Put some work things into perspective and adopted a "que sera, sera" approach. There are stressors that remain, apart from the IVF.
One of my entourage (sounds much better than "my psychiatrist") pointed out that A. I might be lacking a little bit in the close supports department and B. I am also pretty shit at asking for help. It's true that generally I am more comfortable in the caring role than the one being cared for, but now and in the future, I have to see my way to mobilising those supports I do have. I have some gorgeous friends who live close. One of my friends suggested a "safe word" to send out the distress signal. We were eating gelato so we thought that "gelato" might be a good safe word.
I also need to moderate my social media use (I have already unfollowed a few mummies). I need to read good books and see good movies. Nice, funny ones. Not "Bridget Jones' Baby". That shit set me off, big time. Cried all over my dinner.
Any suggestions?
Tuesday, 25 April 2017
A hundred reasons to smile, a few reasons to be sad.
I had a lovely time on my holiday. Those of you who follow me on instagram and effbee will be abreast of it. If you come visit me, I will happily show you photos over a good cup of coffee. I enjoy looking through them.
Visiting the area gave me a sense of why the Mid-East is in the position it is now.
It's been nearly a month since I returned. Gosh. I am at the point where I am thinking about the next holiday.
I've been headfirst into work, earning the cash, dealing with the things. The holiday seems to have broken the cycle of stress that I had before. This is a good thing.
Easter was a nice opportunity for a 4-day break. We saw Urzila Carlson, the comedian. She is one of the funniest comics I have ever seen, with a warm persona. I recommend.
Easter Saturday, I went to see my ex-husband. I was very anxious as I had not seen him in a while. I was irrationally scared that he might want to pick some bones regarding the past. He looked genuninely happy to see me, and I was happy to see him. However, seeing him was confronting. He was quite bad. He had difficulty speaking, difficulty swallowing. A PEG tube had been inserted and he had lost weight. It is distressing to think about, that, very soon, he won't be here. I had some bouts of sad after seeing him; it is just horrible.
I am still crossfitting like a boss. I have taken some initiative with my diet, and joined an online program with a fellow by the name of Jordan Lark. He gives you a program and you tell him on facebook what you've eaten and how you are going, and he replies. Accountability is key; I know very well what to do but it helps to be accountable. My problem is that much of the time I like food and wine more than I dislike my belly pooch/ I am two days in. I have not capitulated yet, I have been eating vegetables like a badass and I have been proactive with the food prep. I had thought I was eating well but now I am really eating well I realise how often we eat out, have wine, et cetera. On this I am allowed one dinner per week to eat what I like. Bloody hell I am looking forward to it.
I have been in the process of getting my shit in order, as far as I can, before I go into IVF. There are some things that I have to accept. Like that I will have to be proactive in seeking support during what will undoubtedly be a trying time. There are people, like my family, who I won't be able to ask for help. I will need to find my tribe, and know what help to request. Asking for help 101.
I have to find those hundred reasons to smile, those multiple small pleasures. Eating and drinking fancy food has made up most of my pleasure, and I need to diversify. I have been getting into actual paper books, and I have been reading this. Only problem with paper books as that they can't be read in the dark, like an iphone or ipad on night mode. I have a book for daytime and a book for night time. I need to plan little things to look forward to, activities with my partner and friends. Lots of little things.
Visiting the area gave me a sense of why the Mid-East is in the position it is now.
It's been nearly a month since I returned. Gosh. I am at the point where I am thinking about the next holiday.
I've been headfirst into work, earning the cash, dealing with the things. The holiday seems to have broken the cycle of stress that I had before. This is a good thing.
Easter was a nice opportunity for a 4-day break. We saw Urzila Carlson, the comedian. She is one of the funniest comics I have ever seen, with a warm persona. I recommend.
Easter Saturday, I went to see my ex-husband. I was very anxious as I had not seen him in a while. I was irrationally scared that he might want to pick some bones regarding the past. He looked genuninely happy to see me, and I was happy to see him. However, seeing him was confronting. He was quite bad. He had difficulty speaking, difficulty swallowing. A PEG tube had been inserted and he had lost weight. It is distressing to think about, that, very soon, he won't be here. I had some bouts of sad after seeing him; it is just horrible.
I am still crossfitting like a boss. I have taken some initiative with my diet, and joined an online program with a fellow by the name of Jordan Lark. He gives you a program and you tell him on facebook what you've eaten and how you are going, and he replies. Accountability is key; I know very well what to do but it helps to be accountable. My problem is that much of the time I like food and wine more than I dislike my belly pooch/ I am two days in. I have not capitulated yet, I have been eating vegetables like a badass and I have been proactive with the food prep. I had thought I was eating well but now I am really eating well I realise how often we eat out, have wine, et cetera. On this I am allowed one dinner per week to eat what I like. Bloody hell I am looking forward to it.
I have been in the process of getting my shit in order, as far as I can, before I go into IVF. There are some things that I have to accept. Like that I will have to be proactive in seeking support during what will undoubtedly be a trying time. There are people, like my family, who I won't be able to ask for help. I will need to find my tribe, and know what help to request. Asking for help 101.
I have to find those hundred reasons to smile, those multiple small pleasures. Eating and drinking fancy food has made up most of my pleasure, and I need to diversify. I have been getting into actual paper books, and I have been reading this. Only problem with paper books as that they can't be read in the dark, like an iphone or ipad on night mode. I have a book for daytime and a book for night time. I need to plan little things to look forward to, activities with my partner and friends. Lots of little things.
Monday, 13 March 2017
Offsky.
I am off to Israel and Jordan today. I am very pumped. Excitement has only kicked in over the last couple of days.
I am looking forward to learning about Jesus, the Jews, Jerusalem, the Arabs and eating the food. I might even do some crossfit over there (they are mad for crossfit in Israel).
I will have fun. I am travelling on an organised tour and I will be careful. I will post plenty of pics to instagram +/- facebook.
Take care, all of you.
I am looking forward to learning about Jesus, the Jews, Jerusalem, the Arabs and eating the food. I might even do some crossfit over there (they are mad for crossfit in Israel).
I will have fun. I am travelling on an organised tour and I will be careful. I will post plenty of pics to instagram +/- facebook.
Take care, all of you.
Saturday, 4 March 2017
A timely reminder.
My first post as an actual 38 year old. It might be a swearier post than usual #sorrynotsorry
The festival of 38 began last weekend, with an impromptu trip into the city for some shopping and some lunch/bevvies at Arbory (if you are in Melbourne, it's a great place to hang on a pleasant day). Wednesday was my actual birthday. I started my new job on that day, then went into town to see The Book of Mormon. If you can, go see it. If you are easily offended, don't see it. It's hilarious, like one of the funnies things I have ever seen.
Thursday, I went to meet with a senior colleague, then went to Highpoint to do some self-gifting before my round.
I was looking at the pretties in Mimco when I felt a text message go off. It was from my ex-husband.
A few of you will know my story- I had been with a fella for 13 years, married for about 6. We grew apart, and the split could be summarised as "good people, married too young, not good together anymore". Our divorce 5 and a bit years ago was reasonably amicable; we were probably more considerate of each other in our divorce than in the latter part of our marriage. He re-partnered soon after our separation, and they have a 3.5 year old.
I had not heard from him in about 3 years. This was not because of any particular animosity; from my end, I always wished them well and thought they were good together. I knew her peripherally before our split. There was just no particular reason to contact him, nor him me. I had often thought about him, like when I go to my sister's house (my ex lives on the Mornington Peninsula also), or when I did or saw something I knew he would like. Any trace of bitterness had passed some time ago. I never trash talked him. There was no reason to.
So when I got his text, I thought "holy fuck, somebody has died".
I rang him up straight away. I was a bit taken aback to hear that his speech was slurred. My first thought was "has he been day-drinking?". My second thought was "holy shit he has a brain tumour, just like his dad" (his dad was diagnosed with a nasty brain tumour just before we got married, and died about 6 months after).
He dropped the bomb - "I've got motor neurone disease"
My stomach lurched. I rushed out of Mimco and said "Shit, Ian! I am so sorry!" I was lost for words, other than the swear ones.
I know what a fucking awful disease that is, so I didn't ask any questions along the lines of "how long do you have". I told him that I had always wanted the best for them and that I was really sorry for them as a family.
I asked after his mum. He told me that she was undergoing chemotherapy for breast cancer.
I said "well, that's awful, that can just go and get fucked!". Ian laughed.
I asked if I could do anything. Whether I could go and see him. He agreed. I don't know if he will think better of it later but I would like to see him. Bring him some nice beers, before he loses the ability to swallow.
I just wanted to go there and give he and his wife a big hug. I told him as much.
After I rang off, I mindlessly bought the thing I had been looking at in Mimco. I staggered out into my car to go to my round. I felt so sad for him and his family. I took 2 wrong turns to work, and could not bring my a-game once there.
I have paused somewhat for thought over the last few days. How lucky we are to have our health. How stupid it is to worry about a few skin blemishes or extra kilograms. While doing a particularly tough crossfit workout yesterday, I went to a dark place, and pondered just how unfair it is that he should get this disease. I took it out on my snatches and burpees. My grunt/roar at the end of the workout let some of this out.
I have taken mindful pleasure in the little things. The sun on my back, breeze in my face. Watching my dog playing. Enjoying how good food tastes. Why does it take something like this horrible disease to bring us back to this?
I am trying to get my head around it, but I probably will not be able to. All I can do is live as best I can - this has been a bit of a wake-up call to do just this.
The festival of 38 began last weekend, with an impromptu trip into the city for some shopping and some lunch/bevvies at Arbory (if you are in Melbourne, it's a great place to hang on a pleasant day). Wednesday was my actual birthday. I started my new job on that day, then went into town to see The Book of Mormon. If you can, go see it. If you are easily offended, don't see it. It's hilarious, like one of the funnies things I have ever seen.
Thursday, I went to meet with a senior colleague, then went to Highpoint to do some self-gifting before my round.
I was looking at the pretties in Mimco when I felt a text message go off. It was from my ex-husband.
A few of you will know my story- I had been with a fella for 13 years, married for about 6. We grew apart, and the split could be summarised as "good people, married too young, not good together anymore". Our divorce 5 and a bit years ago was reasonably amicable; we were probably more considerate of each other in our divorce than in the latter part of our marriage. He re-partnered soon after our separation, and they have a 3.5 year old.
I had not heard from him in about 3 years. This was not because of any particular animosity; from my end, I always wished them well and thought they were good together. I knew her peripherally before our split. There was just no particular reason to contact him, nor him me. I had often thought about him, like when I go to my sister's house (my ex lives on the Mornington Peninsula also), or when I did or saw something I knew he would like. Any trace of bitterness had passed some time ago. I never trash talked him. There was no reason to.
So when I got his text, I thought "holy fuck, somebody has died".
I rang him up straight away. I was a bit taken aback to hear that his speech was slurred. My first thought was "has he been day-drinking?". My second thought was "holy shit he has a brain tumour, just like his dad" (his dad was diagnosed with a nasty brain tumour just before we got married, and died about 6 months after).
He dropped the bomb - "I've got motor neurone disease"
My stomach lurched. I rushed out of Mimco and said "Shit, Ian! I am so sorry!" I was lost for words, other than the swear ones.
I know what a fucking awful disease that is, so I didn't ask any questions along the lines of "how long do you have". I told him that I had always wanted the best for them and that I was really sorry for them as a family.
I asked after his mum. He told me that she was undergoing chemotherapy for breast cancer.
I said "well, that's awful, that can just go and get fucked!". Ian laughed.
I asked if I could do anything. Whether I could go and see him. He agreed. I don't know if he will think better of it later but I would like to see him. Bring him some nice beers, before he loses the ability to swallow.
I just wanted to go there and give he and his wife a big hug. I told him as much.
After I rang off, I mindlessly bought the thing I had been looking at in Mimco. I staggered out into my car to go to my round. I felt so sad for him and his family. I took 2 wrong turns to work, and could not bring my a-game once there.
I have paused somewhat for thought over the last few days. How lucky we are to have our health. How stupid it is to worry about a few skin blemishes or extra kilograms. While doing a particularly tough crossfit workout yesterday, I went to a dark place, and pondered just how unfair it is that he should get this disease. I took it out on my snatches and burpees. My grunt/roar at the end of the workout let some of this out.
I have taken mindful pleasure in the little things. The sun on my back, breeze in my face. Watching my dog playing. Enjoying how good food tastes. Why does it take something like this horrible disease to bring us back to this?
I am trying to get my head around it, but I probably will not be able to. All I can do is live as best I can - this has been a bit of a wake-up call to do just this.
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