Wednesday really sucked.
(I hear that seemed to be a trend in the blog-world yesterday, incidentally.)
Work was really, really crappy. I found out about some changes going on at my company, some that will affect MY job as well (not being laid off or anything, just additions to my job description) and I'm not happy whatsoever about it. I don't really feel like going into the details, I'll just say that I don't like where things are going. That coupled with a busy day at work, put me into a foul mood (but also solidified my determination to really start looking for another job, hardcore. No more waiting for one to fall in my lap!)
Then around noon-ish, I called my mom to say hello (I actually wanted to tell her that a certain song was on the radio, it's a song that my dad used to belt out at the top of his lungs, so whenever it comes on, we usually giggle about it) and after I told her and laughed, and noticed she didn't laugh with me, I asked what was wrong.
"Your grandmother is in the hospital again."
Brought back down to reality, after my moment of smiles.
Apparently, Tuesday night my Grammie called my mom (who lives on the 3rd floor, my Gram lives on the 1st) and asked her if she could feed AJ dinner, cuz she was throwing up. (AJ is my nine-year-old cousin who she babysits for about 3x a week while my uncle is working his second shift job.) So AJ came upstairs and my mom made him some hot dogs and they settled down on the couch together to watch a movie.
The phone rang again.
My mom answered to hear a tiny, sickly-sounding voice say, "Cheryl, please help me. I cant stop throwing up."
My mom and AJ ran downstairs to find my grandmother on the floor in her living room, at this point just dry-heaving, babbling and slightly incoherent. My mom immediately called 911. Poor AJ started to freak out saying, "Please don't let my Mimi die!" This is his FOURTH time watching his Mimi be taken away by an ambulance...THREE of those times before he was the only one home with her and had to call 911 himself. This poor kid is going to be traumatized when our grandmother, God forbid, does die. Becuz obviously it will happen someday. I'm a grown-up...I realize that (even though it breaks my heart to think about it). But AJ? It's got to be hard to see that. I remember when my paternal grandmother died when I was 13. It was hard enough to deal with at THAT age, I can't even imagine having to deal with it any younger.
Anyway, my mom sent AJ out to the front porch "wait for the ambulance and fire truck" but really to just get him out of the house so he wouldn't have to see his grandmother lying on the floor. When the ambulance got there, the EMT's asked my grandmother if she had eaten anything out of the norm. She did in fact eat a chocolate that someone had brought back from Hawaii recently. She was adamant that the chocolate was "poisoned". My grandmother is not crazy or anything, however, ever since her hip replacement and the general anesthesia she had, she has come out with really strange thoughts and ideas. So she kept saying that there was "white powder" on the chocolate. She showed the EMT's the chocolates which looked perfectly normal and my mom insisted to them, when my grandmother could not hear, that she watched her eat the chocolate earlier and it was normal-looking. No "powder".
On the way to the hospital they began hydrating her becuz she was severely dehydrated. Yesterday (after her first night there) the doctor's still had no idea what was wrong. Her heart seemed fine, her blood pressure was only slightly elevated. But he would not let her go home. They continued to hydrate her and sometime between late yesterday and today they were going to do a CAT scan of her stomach. My worst fear...is that the cancer has spread. That's the worst case scenario. I'm hoping (praying), on the other hand, that it's just a food she ate, or something reacting negatively with one of her medications. *SIGH*
I don't expect her to live forever, I'm not that naive, but I'm just not ready for her to go yet. She's my only living grandparent. I know I've said this before, but I'll say it again, I want her to see a great-grandchild. I want her to be alive to experience that. She wants to experience that. She's the only grandparent I had at my wedding and I damn well want her to keep going until I get pregnant and have a baby! Call me selfish, but I want that.
And on the whole baby-makin' front? We're moving onto our sixth cycle TTC. I know that's "nothing" and like a drop in the bucket to some, but it feels like FOREVER to me. Like eternity multipeld by a billion. I'm so ready to become a mother. I'm tired of that ache I feel when I hold other people's children (while simultaneously keeping the happy grin plastered on my face becuz yes I am happy for them and I don't want my friends to think I'm not!). I'm tired of not being able to walk through a store without trailing my hand along the baby clothes that seem to scream at me as I walk by. I'm tired of people asking me, "So? When are you gonna get pregnant?" DON'T YOU THINK WE'RE WORKING ON IT, PEOPLE???
I'm sorry I repeatedly talk about this, I bet some of you are like "Enough complaining already! It's only been six months!" I try not to make my blog center around it, but some days, the feelings just rear up and seem to kick me in the face. I'm doing everything I can. I've started temping this month (basal body temp) and as crazy as it sounds to some of you, I'm doing the whole Robitussin thing the week before you ovulate. It's supposed to help thin out your CM (and if I have to tell you what CM is, don't worry about it...LOL) and make it a hospitable place for those little Spermies! I'm ready to break out the fancy decor and the "WELCOME ALL SPERM" sign, maybe light some fragrant candles and make it an oh-so-desirable place to be. Heh. The coolest hot spot in town, little Sperm? April's Uterus. Open 24 hours daily!!!
Now....let's hope one lucky fellow decides to take up residence....