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7 Random things

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My first meme!  Of course I am far too sophisticated to me excited by such a silly thing.  I don’t even know why I mentioned it. ;)

  1. I travelled the world as a child.  I had my seventh birthday in Greece, my present was a toy camel that was made from real baby camel skin.  I loved it to distraction, but it was lost/stolen the day we left Greece.  Probably a good thing, because it would gross me out now.  As a consequence of that trip, I can eat anything, sleep anywhere, use a squat toilet, and drive a hard bargain.
  2. My grandmother was an artist’s model.  Her father was Chinese, her mother was either Spanish or indigenous Australian - we don’t know.  Rita modelled for Norman Lindsay for years, until she married my grandfather, George.  Lindsay described Rita as his ideal woman, he had been painting her since before he met her.  Lindsay’s daughter described Rita in her book about her father in glowing terms.  She wrote that nanna “could make a kitchen chair look like a throne”.  I loved her more than I can say, and consider it a great tragedy that nanna never met Mark, and will never meet her great grandchild.
  3. I wanted a rabbit since I was a small child.  I don’t know why, and I always resented my parents for not giving in to me. In retrospect, I now know that they did the right thing - I could never have looked after a rabbit properly. Even as an adult, I find it challenging. A rabbit is not a good pet for a child.
  4. I can’t imagine loving a child more than I already love my husband, my bunnies, and my family. Apparently that’s the way it goes, but I just can’t see myself as being that selfless. One of the reasons that I never wanted to have children was that I saw my friends give up so much for their children, and it just never appealed to me. Too late now!
  5. I’ve always enjoyed my own company. I loved living alone, and very rarely felt lonely. I don’t know if this has always been in me, or whether I learned to be by myself after being rejected socially as a kid. It took Christian youth camp to teach me how to make friends. I went expecting nothing, but found a new world, where nobody had expectations of me, and I was able to be the person I was too afraid to be at school. I became a born again christian at about 12 years old, but it didn’t stick. What did stick, was a love of the basic tenets of christianity, an open heart, a generous nature, and a belief in forgiveness and equality. But I believe these things are inside us, not bestowed by a higher being.
  6. My big loves have always been bad boys. The more tortured and self obsessed, the more I loved them. Though it took me until the age of 33 to finally meet the man of my dreams, I honestly don’t think I could have appreciated Mark until I learned to value the right qualities in a man. If I had met Mark in my twenties, I would have been very mean to him, and then hated myself for it. Now I am just a little bit mean, and I try to make up for it.
  7. Socially, I am very shy. Most people would never pick this in me now, because I have spent years forcing myself to talk to people, and refusing to bow to my fears. I read compulsively, and picked up conversational gambits from the heroes in my favourite books. Now, I can play the part of the social butterfly with ease, but underneath I am still terrified that one day I will be found out for the fraud that I am.

Now, I’m tagging Mark, Jussi, Andrew, Emma, Andrea, Bex, and Pamela.

P.S.

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Mark has just heard that his employment status has changed from probationary to full time permanent. And, instead of the 10% increase he was expecting, they have doubled the increase.

Woo Hoo!

So, as soon as we can get this in writing, we can move on with the secret project. Yay!

Update

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Custard had a very long surgery, and it took him a long while to recover his appetite afterwards. He’s now doing really well - eating like a voracious wildebeest, and acting like he isn’t missing half his face. He had his first antibiotic shot yesterday, and I honestly think it was harder for me than it was for him. I have never been good with needles, the fact that I am able to do it at all is testament to my love for this little guy.

Tuesday night wasn’t a good one for me. More explosive spewing, but thankfully it was all over within half an hour, and I didn’t need to go to hospital. I wasn’t able to take the anti nausea medication though, and yesterday was horrible. I was wondering whether the Restavit was actually working, as I still feel nauseous after taking it, but yesterday proved that it does work - I could barely get out of bed yesterday after skipping a dose. Horrible.

I have received a few packages in the post in the last week - and I haven’t even opened two of them! One because the smell of the plastic absolutely kills me (I also have a magazine I can’t read because of the smell!), and the other mainly because I am a crappy secret pal.

I joined the knitters treat exchange as a test to see if I could handle a “light” version of the secret pal idea. I quickly gathered a variety of treats for my pal, and was pretty happy that I had a parcel of stuff she would love. Then I started to see other packages on blogs, and started to worry that my package was a bit lame. So I didn’t send it, thinking that I should add a few more things.

And then I got sick.

And then, I got my package from my spoiler, and felt too guilty to open it until I had at least posted the package to my spoilee.

So, to both my pals, a HUGE sorry. My mission for today is to have a shower, and drag myself off to the post office. I’ll wrap everything properly and write some little notes, AND GET THE DAMN THING POSTED. It may not be the best package ever, but each item was chosen with care and the very best of intentions. And I think I know my new pal well enough to know that she will appreciate the sentiment behind it. And I’m going to have to learn that perfection isn’t possible - being a parent will surely teach me that!

Custard

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My lovely dad stayed with me all day yesterday - we dropped Custard off at the vet, and then saw Pirates of the Caribbean III while we waited for the all clear.

The text message came two hours into the THREE hour film. I left the cinema to call Matthew, and chat with him about the surgery. It wasn’t good news.

The abscess had two branches, the one I could feel on his jaw, and another behind his upper back teeth. The abscess had wrapped itself around his jugular vein, and also his left facial nerve, which meant Matthew was only able to remove about 95% of it.

Normally, an encapsulated abscess has a good survival rate if the surgeon is able to remove the whole thing, and no infection remains. But even a small pocket of infection will usually come back, even with aggressive antibiotic treatment. There is a chance he will respond well to the antibiotics, and we can stop this thing in it’s tracks, but he will be on the treatment for the rest of his life. Realistically, the chances are that it won’t be a long time.

Custard had a very large abscess in his nasolachrimal duct when he came to live with me, and he was given only six months to live back then - over six years ago. Every day since then has been a blessing, and I am determined to give him the best care I can until the time comes to let him go.

Thanks everyone for your messages of support. He has been getting lots of cuddles.

Some vibes for Custard please…

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The restavit seems to have toned the nausea down to a dull roar, which means that if I take things slowly and carefully, I can actually get out of bed occasionally without spewing.

Saturday night we babysat Alex for a few hours, and despite having a worrying cough, he was an absolute angel, and we’ll be happy to babysit anytime in the future. No pictures, because I didn’t want to stress him, but you can be assured that he is still cute.

On our way out the door on saturday night, I discovered a lump on Custard’s jaw. It’s an abscess, and Matthew the wondervet confirmed it yesterday. He’ll have surgery today, and we are hoping that Matthew won’t find any bone involvement - he has a much better chance of surviving this if his bone is healthy.

Abscesses in rabbits are very often life threatening, because of the way their little systems make pus - an abscess diagnosis is often as bad as a cancer diagnosis. So please keep everything crossed today for my little guy, that he has a safe surgery, and a good prognosis afterwards.

And a big thank you to Dad, who will be driving with me out to Penrith, and waiting around for most of the day so that we can get him home safe and sound. You rock Dad!

Nature sometimes doesn’t wnat our help

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Mended Spiderwebs.

Link courtesy Magpie & Cake.

Read the second paragraph of the text - fascinating!

The Restavit seems to have done me some good. So far. We’re off to do some project planning this morning, hopefully without the need of a sick bag.

WTF?!

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What does this mean?

My take is that the (UK) government is putting the frighteners on pregnant women.

“The Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists says there is no evidence that a couple of units once or twice a week will do any harm to the baby.”

Now, I am hardly advocating that pregnant women should get on the sauce, but it would seem to me that this is an unwarranted level of control over women’s bodies. I dare say that most of our mothers had a shandy or two while pregnant, and worse still, cigarettes!

I haven’t touched a drop since before I learned I was pregnant, but I drank far to much on my wedding anniversary (when I was pregnant but didn’t know it). I am also open to the idea of a white wine spritzer later in my pregnancy (when and if the idea stops making me gag), and I resent that this is being done in such a heavy handed manner. What might be more intelligent, is tackling a problem that is a massive health threat - like smoking.

In Ampersand news, I saw my GP yesterday, and got the results of the blood test from the hospital last week. Elevated liver enzymes (from puking so much), and an elevated white blood cell count. GP suspected an infection, and sent me off to the SAN clinic to speak to an obstetrician.

I’ve been given a new drug called Restavit - it’s an over the counter insomnia medication, which is apparently very effective for nausea of pregnancy (I refuse to call it morning sickness if it won’t confine itself to mornings). I fell asleep before I could take it last night, and have had another rotten day today, but I am hopeful for tomorrow.

He reckons that 14 weeks is the magic number for feeling better - not 12 as popular opinion would have it. I also spoke to the midwife at the clinic, who agreed with the doctor about the 14 week thing. She has also given me a phone number for the social worker at Hornsby Hospital, so that I can call and make an appointment before I book in to the hospital (which is not until the 14th of June).

Thursday night we did a tour of the birthing unit, and were pretty happy with the facility, but for one small detail. They like you to check out 24 hours after giving birth. They will extend it to 48 hours, but no more unless there are exceptional circumstances. I’m no fan of hospitals, and thought I would be keen to get out, but that sounds just a we bit harsh….

Unemployed!

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I’ve just spoken with work. They are finalising my holiday pay, and I’ll be technically unemployed from today.

Why am I so happy? They have asked me to come back when I am ready, on a casual basis, for as many days as I can handle, when I can handle it.

It’s nice to feel loved :)

Another reason why John Howard sucks

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More privilege for the privileged - SMH.

Private schools cater to 30% of the population, and get 70% of federal funding. How can you possibly justify that Mr Sheen?

PS. Ampersand will be going to public school. Unless I completely lose my mind and decide to homeschool.

Back to 2005

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Thanks everyone for your lovely comments and support. The last week has been pretty challenging, but at least I have learned that I am stronger than I thought I was. The pills that the Dr at the hospital prescribed were $91.35 for ten tablets, and I was to take 2-4 per day. I took the last pill on monday night, and spent most of yesterday in bed. Today I dragged myself off to Cherryhills for the knitting group, and managed to put on a brave face after 10 minutes of deep breathing in the car after the drive. I had a lovely time, and I do hope that my colourful language wasn’t upsetting the regulars.

Candy invited me over for lunch, but I as ready to get back to bed after all that excitement. Was home in time for Oprah, but fell asleep during the first segment, and woke up to Judge Judy - the horror!

Got up to do some useful stuff, felt vile, went back to bed. At 4.30pm, I put the dishwasher on, and cut up some veggies to bake for dinner. This furious burst of activity was enough to have me racing for the toilet again, and after that I slunk back to bed with my tail between my legs.

Tomorrow, I was planning on spending most of the day working on my secret project, but since I’ve discovered that activity sets off my nausea, I think I’ll be doing more knitting, and less getting out of bed. Or maybe I’ll visit the GP and try to get a referral to an obstetrician - though I don’t think I’ll need one long term, it might be good to talk to an expert about what is happening to me right now, and maybe get some answers. And I’ve decided it wouldn’t kill me to see what sort of early intervention programs for pre natal depression are available. I may not need it, but if anyone has a red flag over their head for PND, it would be me - and my experience of pregnancy has been pretty awful so far.

In case you’re interested, I am now into my 15th week, well into the second trimester. 182 days to go.

Breaking blog silence

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There is something in the air at Club Denistone, and I haven’t wanted to blog about it in fear of jinxing it. Suffice it to say that if you’re in the mood for crossing your fingers and sending some luck our way, it would be greatly appreciated.

Something I can tell you about, is our adventures last night. Sensitive readers may want to look away, because there is yucky stuff involved.

I have reached the second trimester, and am (apparently) supposed to start to feel better.Until last night, I was waiting in naive hope that my energy levels would increase, and my all day constant companion of nausea would fly away. Yesterday I spent a lovely day with Mandy, pottering about the house, having tea and cake, shopping, and cooking. We even dyed some yarn. After she left, I was pretty tired, and aware that I had probably pushed myself a bit too much. Until about 11pm, I barely left the couch, and was feeling worse and worse. Just after 11, I dragged myself into bed, and then had to race to the bathroom to throw up. Usually, after I throw up, I start to feel better immediately, so I washed my face and crawled back to bed.

Within 10 minutes, I was hurling again, and every 10 minutes after that for the next two and a half hours. At 1.30pm, I had had enough, and was ready to kill myself to stop the vomiting. Mark drove me to hospital.

I was so dehydrated that they had trouble finding a vein, David the 12 year old doctor had to dig about in the back of my hand for a few minutes before giving up and trying my right hand. Eventually he found a vein and took some blood (I am so very brave - I didn’t pass out), and then a nurse cam in with a miracle cure that had me feeling better within seconds of the shot.

An hour or so on a drip, and they offered me a choice of admission, or going back home. I chose home, and we were tucked up in bed just after 3am.

Apparently what I have is called hyperemesis. And it might go away today, or last for several months. The horror…

Thanks Candy!

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Candy rang today, and encouraged me out of the house. We had a lovely chat, and I am again reminded about how lucky I am to be part of such a wonderful group of women.

Tomorrow is my birthday, and I’m hoping to make it to Cherryhills in the morning, have lunch with mum, and then go out for a family dinner in the evening. A little bird told me that I’m getting a pretty cool present tomorrow, so I promise pictures.

We visited Aunty Emily tonight. She is out of hospital, but still pretty frail.

Thanks for the black bean sauce tips - the recipe I remember had spring onions, and garlic I think. It involved chopping roughly, cooking, and then processing in a blender.

And the Apple Store is down. Looks like we might be having a product announcement overnight. I don’t work in the industry any more, but I still feel the buzz.

Black Bean Sauce ?

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While watching daytime TV a few months ago, I saw a cooking program that had a recipe for black bean sauce. George, my grandfather used to make black bean sauce from scratch, but I never learned it from him, and he wasn’t the type to have anything in writing.

I followed the directions from the TV a day or so after seeing the program, and made a creditable version. I think it needed a bucketload more salt, but apart from that, it tasted great, and I’d like to make it again. Of course, though I have a rough idea of the ingredients, the method escapes me.

I have tried looking on the internets, but all the recipes I have found include ingredients that make it obvious that the recipe has been dumbed down for a western audience - like substituting sherry for Chinese cooking wine.

Can anyone help?

More Abortion Stuff

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I haven’t read Freakonomics, but I have heard quite a bit about it, and am intrigued by the book. So I was interested to see Kris link to the Frekonomics blog today. One post struck me as interesting, but missing something.

This post talks about the rapid decline in Down’s Syndrome births since routine testing became available, but questions the almost universal decision to abort when faced with a positive test result. Many sides of the issue are discussed, but what is not mentioned is the long term care that many such infants will need. For me, the overwhelming deciding factor is not wanting to die and leave a dependant child who has never known a life away from home. I’m not going to live forever, so having a dependant at age 37 that will still need care in their 50’s is not rational.

Luckily, my test results have been analysed in conjunction with my blood test, and the adjusted result is a 1:934 chance of Down’s, and greater than 1:5000 chance of the other syndromes tested for.

And in unrelated news, mum bought me a maternity bra today. An E cup. E for FREAKING ENORMOUS!

Happy Mothers Day!

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To mum, if you’re reading this - thanks for everything. I think I’m starting to get a grip on the fantastic job you did, and I’m more impressed than ever. The hardest part of being pregnant has been being so far away from you, and I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

And my first mothers day brought coffee in bed, a lovely (huge) pink dressing gown which will be my best friend in the coming months, and the best gift ever. Today I was able to brush my teeth for the first time in many weeks without talking to god on the big white telephone. Ahhh. Clean teeth.

Pants update

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Just over a week ago, I bought a pair of pants that were a size too large, as a measure against future expansion. For the last week, I’ve been hitching them up frequently, and wondering about the wisdom of buying too large pants.

Today, I went to the GP, then to a large shopping centre. I was out from 10am till nearly 2pm, and I didn’t hitch up the pants once. The rot has set in.

I am the Empress

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You are The Empress

Beauty, happiness, pleasure, success, luxury, dissipation.

The Empress is associated with Venus, the feminine planet, so it represents, beauty, charm, pleasure, luxury, and delight. You may be good at home decorating, art or anything to do with making things beautiful.

The Empress is a creator, be it creation of life, of romance, of art or business. While the Magician is the primal spark, the idea made real, and the High Priestess is the one who gives the idea a form, the Empress is the womb where it gestates and grows till it is ready to be born. This is why her symbol is Venus, goddess of beautiful things as well as love. Even so, the Empress is more Demeter, goddess of abundance, then sensual Venus. She is the giver of Earthly gifts, yet at the same time, she can, in anger withhold, as Demeter did when her daughter, Persephone, was kidnapped. In fury and grief, she kept the Earth barren till her child was returned to her.

What Tarot Card are You?

Take the Test to Find Out.

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But of course…..

Thanks to The Other Andrew for the link.

I think the decision has been made

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Thanks everyone! I think my mind is made up, I just need to decide when. I’ll take another week off and discuss things with the parents (who get back on Monday, yay!), and maybe go back for a few weeks to work out my notice. I’ve had an offer of part time work, which would be a great, low stress way to earn a few extra dollars.

You are right - quality of life HAS to be central to the decision. I am feeling wobbly enough without adding work stress into the mix.

Off to the GP now (for another certificate), then I’m going out to lunch by myself. I think the spewing is over for today. Touch wood.

Situational homosexuality?

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From the Greens e-brief this week;

Kerry went to Villawood Detention Centre to visit a young Pakistani man and his same-sex partner, Ali Humayun who has been held for over two years. He is under high-security, but has no criminal history of any kind. Ali is the only openly gay detainee at Villawood (his partner has been released). Whilst persecuted by detainees and guards, Ali fears worse back in Pakistan. Ali has been refused protection on the basis that his sexuality is situational - the result of being detained. Kerry’s visit has brought media attention: http://www.smh.com.au/news/national/bisexuality-a-result-of-detention-detainee-told/2007/05/08/1178390312281.html, and she will take the case to the Minister for Immigration.

By that logic, I must be situationally heterosexual, because I’ve never been locked up with a hundred lesbians. I’ve been to a few parties though…

Just in case you want a better picture of what life is like if you’re gay in Pakistan, click here.

Unemployment - the pros and cons

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Pros

  • I can stop stressing about my impossible work situation
  • we can probably manage on one wage
  • I have supported Mark through uni, so it’s not unfair
  • I could do study, start a business, take more pictures
  • I can spend time taking care of myself and my family
  • I can play in the garden, grow food for us, and get fitter
  • I can relax and enjoy my pregnancy, can concentrate on positive things
  • I can stop stressing about my impossible work situation

Cons

  • poverty, which will mean -
  • - a yarn diet
  • - it will be hard to buy all the stuff we need for Ampersand
  • - it will have to drink water at the pub on sundays
  • - we can’t have cable tv
  • - no new laptop every few years
  • - OMG, what if Apple bring out a new iPod????
  • - no more take away
  • - very rare restaurant meals
  • - can’t buy Crocs in every colour
  • a vague feeling of letting someone down.  Mark will support me whatever I decide, and I expect that most people in my life would too.  But there is also worry that this choice might not be acceptable.  We know that the superwoman myth is just a myth, but there is still enormous pressure on women to be perfect mothers, keep perfect homes, and also be great providers too.  And I just don’t think I can do that.  I think being a mother is going to be a huge job.  Pregnancy has been a fairly large job so far…