I really am. Sick. Shit. Have a crappy fucking cold. We both do. Worried it'll turn into a racking cough and I'll eject the embryos out after the transfer (around Christmas day - our present to each other!). I'm nervous a cough will screw with implantation. Is this pure paranoia? I'm too tired to search on Google. I realize I can't be the first woman undergoing IVF treatment to get a cold. Fuck it. I'm not gonna give it much thought.
Letting it go now.
Gone.
In light of the fact that I'm pooped, and in keeping with backtracking due to my blogging procrastination, here's a letter (edited down - see I am capable of editing) sent to our lovely neighbor Susan from down south in the VOD from when I first arrived here:
June 11, 2008
Dearest Susan,
Just wanted to let you know I will get to keep my mind here. Alissa was able to send my first batch thru FedEx. Scary thing is, I was totally off them for about 2 whole days (having taken half doses the prior 4) and I could already tell I was needing them. Ugh. I guess it's true what they say - better living thru chemistry! Dan's pancreas needs insulin; my brain needs serotonin reuptake inhibitors - my brain needs to recycle what little I have instead of dispensing of it as used and unnecessary like normal brains do. My brain, BTW, hates it when I talk about it behind its back. So I should move onto a different subject before it gets angry and spiteful and withholds important multisyllabic vocabulary words from me that I might need when trying to impress Dan's boss tonight (who also misread his itinerary and missed his last flight here, so actually I think we'll get along famously).
Moving on. Before our new tenants get there, I wanted to see if you and/or Miri wanted to raid our freezer for any food items you might want. I know there are some decent frozen goodies in there, like a couple of Trader Joes Pizzas, etc. I think I may even have a Barbie in there. Feel free to take her home so as not to scare the newbies. Long story. Kinda in keeping with my weird brain ramblings above. I have an active inner life. Never bored at least.
Send your famous Toll House cookies here? Okay maybe not the cookies. Maybe some sand from Beacons? Waaaah!!! We miss you guys and our little valley of dreams Shangri-La. (Either that Zoloft has kicked in funny, or I better get my ass to Taipei 101 and look for some English speaking Ex-Pats cuz it seems I may be desperate to communicate in fluent English, eh?)
Okay. I’m serious. I think I’ll scoot off to seek out some small banter with strangers where our only bond is based on where we happen to have been born.
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