A Story That Everyone Should Read

A special Thank You to Princess M (my sister) for forwarding this beautiful story to me. -------- REMEMBER THE HOLOCAUST - IT HAPPENED!Now a touching story in memory of the holocaust.....The Schindler no one knewIrena Sendler rescued 2,500 children from the Nazi death camps. Her story, writes Marti Attoun in Ladies' Home Journal, was rescued by three Kansas teens.Irena Sendler keeps a photo of "her Kansas girls" on the bedside table in her nursing-home room in Warsaw, Poland. She rests easier now that her story is in good hands. And her story is astounding, as awe-inspiring as that of Oskar Schindler, whose courageous acts of Nazi resistance became a book and an Academy Award-winning film. But unlike Schindler, who received international acclaim, Sendler had been a footnote in history for nearly 60 years.That all changed in September 1999, when three teenagers in a smalltown in Kansas were looking for a topic for a history project andstumbled upon a short mention of Sendler in an article in a 5-year-oldnewsmagazine. As a Catholic social worker, the article said, Sendler had organized the rescue of 2,500 Jewish babies and children from the Nazi-controlled Warsaw ghetto in 1942 and 1943. "We thought it was a typo," recalls Elizabeth Cambers, now 18 and a college freshman. "We thought it was supposed to say she rescued 250 children, not 2,500." In September 1939, when the Nazis invaded Poland, Sendler was a 29-year-old social worker employed by Warsaw's social-welfare department. An only child, she had been just 7 when her father, a Catholic doctor, contracted typhus and died after treating Jews during a 1917 typhus outbreak. But she never forgot his sacrifice. "I was taught that if a man is drowning, it is irrelevant what is his religion or nationality," Sendler has said. "One must help him. It is a need of the heart." In the fall of 1940, Sendler watched as the Nazis forced 350,000 Jews inside the Warsaw ghetto, a 16-square-block area that was walled off and guarded. With each passing month of the war, the torment of the people locked inside intensified. They were dying of starvation and disease while unknowingly waiting for the Nazis to herd them into freight cars that would ultimately take them to their deaths in the gas chambers. Sendler joined Zegota, the code name for the Council for Aid to Jews in Occupied Poland, an underground network founded in December 1942 by psychologist Adolf Berman and six other prominent scholars, religious leaders, and social activists. The secret organization, which forged thousands of birth certificates and other documents to give Jews safe Aryan identities, asked Sendler to head up their operation to smuggle Jewish children out of the Warsaw ghetto. But first she had to get inside. Because the Nazis were on guard against the spread of infections, they allowed the delivery of medicine inside the Ghetto. A Zegota member working inside the Polish disease department forged a permit that allowed Sendler to work undercover as a nurse inside the ghetto. Her code name was Jolanta. With the help of 10 "messenger friends," as Sendler called her colleagues, and dozens of volunteers, she organized the effort to sneak the children to orphanages, convents, and private homes in the Warsaw region. Children who were old enough to talk were taught to rattle off Christian prayers and mimic other religious behavior (such as how to make the sign of the cross) so they could live safely without arousing suspicion of their Jewish heritage. Sendler and Zegota devised several routes for smuggling children out of the ghetto. Kids escaped on foot or in the arms of volunteers through sewer pipes or basements with underground passageways. Many also escaped through the courthouse, which had entrances on both the ghetto side and Aryan side. Other methods were more inventive. For instance, a trolley driver and Zegota member, when crossing from the ghetto to the Aryan side, hid little ones in trunks, suitcases, or sacks under his back-seat, where the Nazi guards could not see. Another supporter, an ambulance driver, kept his dog beside him in the front seat and trained him to bark to camouflage any cries or noises from the babies hidden under stretchers in back. Sendler also arranged for babies and children to be sedated and smuggled out with merchants in potato sacks, under their loads of goods. Sometimes, she even sneaked sedated children out in body bags, telling the guards that they were dead. Day after day, for about 16 months, Sendler persuaded parents and grandparents to hand over their babies and children, to give them a if chance to live. "There were terrible scenes," Sendler says. "One mother I wanted a child to leave the ghetto while the father did not. The grandma wanted, the husband did not. They asked what was the guarantee? What kind of guarantee could I give them?" She couldn't even guarantee that she could get past the guards. On slips of tissue paper, Sendler recorded the identity of every child she rescued. Whenever possible, she wrote down the child's Jewish name as well as the child's new Christian name and new address. Sendler buried these names in jars under an apple tree in a friend's garden. After the war, Sendler hoped, the children would be located and their Jewish identities revealed to them. On Oct. 20, 1943, the Gestapo arrested Sendler. They had long suspected she was running a smuggling operation, and one of hermessengers had been caught and tortured until she gave up Sendler's name and home address. The Gestapo interrogated Sendler, demanding information about the identities of the other rescuers and the children in hiding. But she refused to talk, even when she was beaten until her legs and feet were broken. "I was quiet as a mouse," Sendler has said. "I would have rather died than disclose anything about our operations." She was then taken to Pawiak prison, where she was sentenced to be executed. At the last minute, however, the woman who had rescued so many others was herself rescued. On the day she was to be executed, Zegota paid a hefty bribe to a guard, who allowed Sendler to escape. The guard subsequently posted Sendler's name on public bulletin boards as one of the executed, essentially rendering her invisible to the Nazis. She then went into hiding in Poland, just like the children she'd saved. When Poland was liberated a year and three months later, in January 1945, Sendler returned to the friend's garden and dug up the jars. She turned over the rescued children's names to Zegota's Berman, and he and other members of the group tried to locate the children's foster families. Sadly, most of the children had no parents or grandparents to be found. Less than 1 percent of the Jews inside the ghetto survived the war, most having perished at the Treblinka death camp in northeast Poland. After the war, Sendler married, raised two children of her own, and continued her career as a social worker in Warsaw. The beatings she had suffered at the hands of the Gestapo left her permanently disabled, and she has had trouble walking ever since. But she never talked openly about her rescue work. Poland was under a communist regime, and the postwar climate wasn't safe. For almost 60 years, her story was essentially lost to history. Then, in March 2000, she received a letter from Elizabeth Cambers and two of her classmates at Uniontown High School in Uniontown, Kan. Encouraged by their social studies teacher, the girls had selected Sendler as the subject of their National History Day project, and though information about her was scarce, they had been able to write a 10-minute play, titled Life in a Jar, that had already won first place at the state level of the national contest."We explained who we were and what we were doing," says Sabrina Coons, now 20 and a student at Kansas State University. "We told her that we found her story amazing." Sendler's response, handwritten in Polish, arrived in Kansas three weeks later. "I am very eager to receive and read your play," Sendler wrote. In a series of letters, Sendler answered the students' questions, and slowly the details of her remarkable story unfolded; an international friendship was forged. After an emotional performance of Life in a Jar at Uniontown High, the students were invited to perform the play for church groups, nursing homes, and civic organizations throughout southeast Kansas. Through their correspondence with Sendler, the teens learned that she lived quite meagerly. So at each performance, they set out a donation jar. Their first gift to Sendler was $3, which they told her to use for postage. "We found out later that she gave the $3 away to a children's home," says Coons. "That's just how she is." Although the girls didn't win any awards when they traveled toMaryland in June 2000 to compete in the national contest, their play gained national and international attention, and the students have since given more than 100 performances of the play in eight different states.As a result, Sendler has received numerous awards for her courageous work. After learning she was to be given a $10,000 humanitarian award from the American Center of Polish Culture in Washington, she wrote to her girls: "My emotion is being shadowed by the fact that no one from the circle of my faithful co\workers, who constantly risked their lives, could live long enough to enjoy all the honors that now are falling upon me.... I can't find the words to thank you, my dear girls.... Before the day you have written the play Life in a Jar -- nobody in my own country and in the whole world cared about my person and my work during the war ..." One member of a Kansas City audience was so profoundly moved by Sendler's story that he raised money to send the play's three authors to Poland to meet Sendler in May 2001. "It wasn't real until I actually met Irena," says Megan Stewart. "We all ran up and hugged her. She wanted to just hold our hands and hear about our lives." Cambers told Sendler, "I love you. You are my hero." Sendler, a 4-foot-11-inch woman who now uses a wheelchair, deflected the girls' praise. "A hero is someone doing extraordinary things," she told them. "What I did was not extraordinary. It was a normal thing to do." From "The Woman Who Loved Children," Ladies' Home Journal

And we are rounding a bend

I got a very sweet email today. It read... Just wanted to introduce myself. I know you all are close to finishing up your homestudy with Cherry Hill, and that you have filed your I600A (I think). I am the person at the agency you will talk to the most once you begin your process in Guatemala, so I thought I would say hello. Give me a call when you get a chance so we can touch base. Thanks, Lisa Wow, what a nice lady! I spoke with her, at length, on the phone and she answered a ton of my questions. She said that after we get our referral it would be, approximately, 6 months to get the baby. She said that the quickest she did was 4 1/2 months and the longest was 11 months (had some issues on that one). She has never had someone not bring home a baby (let's not give us a kenohura please). She emailed me the dossier requirements and all I can say is... Yikes! Well, I know what we'll be working on this weekend. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Have I mentioned that Marc made a smoked turkey breast for us to have for lunch during Passover? It's so easy I thought I'd share. Now, you don't need a smoker. You can either use your gas bbq grill or you can throw together a flower pot smoker (see Alton Brown's "Q" episode on Good Eats on the Food Network on 5/25 at 10:30 a.m. and 5/26 at 2:00 p.m. - tivo it people). If you have a gas grill with at least 3 burners - just take the grill off of one side. Flip the cover on the burner over and put a smoker box (you can get them at Home Depot) and fill with either mesquite or Hickory wood chips (again, Home Depot). If you google smoked turkey you can get a couple of different brines or just put some spices on the outside and you are good to go. A turkey breast took Marc about 2 hrs and 15 minutes. Just check the wood every 1/2 hr or so. If you use the mesquite wood the flavor is just incredible. We've also done brisket & ribs this way although they take much longer to cook.

Breast Cancer Walk

My mother, sister and I are doing the 5k on Mother's Day to raise money for Breast Cancer. If you'd like to donate, our team page is http://www.doitsports.com/donations/view-pledges.tcl?txn=2591033&id=1942

Say Goodnight Gracie

That's what I've decided to name my eggs. Say goodnight, goodbye, see ya later, hasta la vista baby, it's been nice knowing ya, etc. I'm entering menopause. That's right, at the ripe old age of 37 I'm fucking old. Not just old anymore (like my kid sister always says), I'm fucking old. I saw my gynecologist today (who rocks) and told her what happened last night. That, coupled with my high FsH, leads her to believe that I have entered menopause. She has asked me to go to an internist for a full physical to confirm it (also to check the thyroid and make sure that puppy is operational). On the happy side, it was nice to see my old friends at the RE's office. The staff there has been so good to me. It was funny, I don't think that Dr. H realized who I was when she ran by me (on the way to do an HSG - poor girl) and just gave me a quick wave. I saw the two Sharrons and they were very excited when I told them about the adoption. I promised to bring our baby by when we got settled at home. Now, let me tell you about my gynecologist. She is wonderful, kind, sincere and just fucking awesome. She told me that we did everything right. That nothing we could have done would have changed our outcome. That we requested our referral for the RE in the right amount of time (6 months after we started trying to conceive), that we following all the right protocols. Nothing would have changed. I think I healed a little bit more today. It was funny, I was sitting on the table in that paper schmata they have you wear and she's getting ready to leave, turns around and says "I need to give you a hug" and gave me a big hug. She said, your choice will take a child out of poverty and give him a loving home. I'm proud of you.

Splish Splash I was Taking A Bath

No I wasn't! I was trying to sleep but I woke up drenched in sweat. Not just damp mind you, fucking dripping sweat. I went into the bathroom and the water was pouring off of me like someone had dumped a bucket over my head. That kind of sweating. Now, when I took the clomid, I got hot flashes. I woke up damp and uncomfortable and would have to turn the fan on. Last night I woke up damp and turned the fan on. A few hours later is when I woke up in this horrible state. When I took Clomid, the bed would be slightly damp as I got up but was dry by the time I returned from the bathroom. Last night there was a puddle on my side of the bed. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ALL ABOUT? I'm really starting to worry about what those drugs did to my body. Before all of this infertility crap, I got my period like clockwork. I ovulated like a champ. I was every RE dream come true. I take these drugs and all of a sudden my body is all fucked up. I'm not on schedule any more (even though I've been off the drugs for 2 months), I'm getting major night sweats, I'm not ovulating right (if at all). I really wonder if my FsH really DID shoot up that high naturally or is it all from the drugs. I have my regular gyno appointment today. I hope she has set aside a little time for me because I have every intention of picking her brain.

AAAAACCCCKKKK

Ok, that was just a little hill but scary nonetheless. We finally got our shit together and are mailing out our I600-A form (pre-approval of immigration) which comes with more fingerprinting and the Agency Agreement (whopper of a check too!). I woke up around 1:30 this morning in a panic. What if I forgot to feed the baby? How do I know when he's hungry? I'm getting a little nutty, I know this. But it really had me in a bit of a state this morning. Marc is sick. This is not normal. He never gets sick. Coughing, sneezing generally feeling shitty (with a 101 fever to boot!). He was feeling a little better today but I just hate seeing him like this. We spent the weekend doing Passover Seders. Fun huh? The first night was at my brother's house which I promptly stole Eli from his Grandfather and cuddled with him while he slept. I was in heaven. He laid across my lap for a good part of the Seder just sleeping away. Mom got a little too drunk and Princess took away the wine from her which was an absolute riot. The other two kids were a hoot. Running around being kids. I loved it. They have so much life and energy. It's amazing, the big one (4) takes such good care of his little sister (2). Making sure she keeps up with him and his little friends (my brother's business partner also has two that are 5 & 6), that no one (but him) picks on her. She has the most amazing curls I've ever seen. I could just eat the both up! I have to say, their mother is amazing. I just hope I can be as good a mom to my kid(s) as she is to hers. Not that my brother isn't a good dad.. he is an amazing dad but there is just something about the way she is with them that just awes me. The second night we went to (see if you can follow this) my mother-in-law's, gentlemen friend's (she's too old to have a boyfriend) son & daughter-in-law. They live out in bumblefuck USA but they do have a beautiful home with a private lake. It was a beautiful day (with Marc coughing and sneezing our way out there) for a drive so it was no big deal. What sucked was that the Seder was at 2pm (we originally thought it was supposed to be at 4:30) which fucked up the rest of our day. Still, it was a nice time. His son is a complete ass but his daughter-in-law is lovely. They have a beautiful Great Dane. I was joking that the dog was so big that his nephew (who was crawling across the floor and is about a year old) could ride him. He then grabs the baby off the floor and tries to put it on the dogs back. Now the dog (who is more like a pony than a dog) is jumping around trying to get at the baby, he puts the baby back on the floor and the dog almost tramples the poor kid. As I said, he's an ass. Lots of religion for a short weekend. Time to get back to work.

click, click, click, click...

The roller coaster has begun again. Marc had his interview last night which he described as the life and times of Marc crammed into an hour. He felt it went well and she even mentioned that she'd like to inspect the house next weekend (note to self - call cleaning lady and beg her to clean up next week too). I feel like things are starting to move forward again which makes me happy but I'm just not quite sure about what's around the corner (is it a big drop, a little drop, a blind curve, what??) so it's making me very apprehensive. This morning I was scratching Marc's back and found a huge lump. Scared the shit out of me. He's going to have our Sister-In-Law (who's a great doc) take a look at it. Oh, for any dieter's reading this... we discovered a new ice cream treat last night. Eskimo came out with an light Strawberry Shortcake Ice Cream Bar which is made with splenda. If you are a weight watcher... it's only 2 points. Very small on the serving size but very creamy and tasty. I'd give it a 7 on a 1-10 scale.

Ah... Butterflies

Nope, not the pretty ones floating around outside in the beautiful spring air. I'm talking about those devil butterflies that like to reside in my tummy! Marc has his first interview with the social worker tonight. She called yesterday evening and apologized for not getting back to us sooner. She said she looked at her calendar and realized that next week was Passover and could we schedule the meeting for tonight. Of course, Marc said yes. Why am I nervous? Marc is the most incredibly fantastic man in the world. He's going to make the best Daddy in the world. She has to adore him. I guess I'm nervous because whether I like it or not... this woman is holding our future in her hands. I hated being out of control when I was dealing with my infertility (not that fertility is ever really in our control) and now I am out of control with the adoption. I actually feel more out of control with the adoption. There was much more for me to do with the infertility. I was sticking needles into my stomach and legs, going to the doctor 2x a week. In yoga class the other day, our teacher, Steve, said that sometimes we have to learn to be kind to ourselves. Not stress out our bodies and minds over things that are out of our control. He spoke of waiting for a plane and the plane was delayed. He just accepted the fact that sometimes things are on other people's schedule's and he can't change that. I guess I have to just accept the fact that this part of my life is on someone else's schedule. Today I will try to be kinder to my stomach and not let this get to me too much. (this concludes the granola crunchy part of my blog - you can stop throwing up now).

~yawn, stretch, scratch~

Good Morning World! And what a beautiful morning it is! It's supposed to get to 85 today (of course tomorrow is supposed to be 60 but who cares) and I'm feeling quite pretty in my little sundress. I went to yoga last night and Steve, the instructor, really kicked my ass. I had a harder time keeping up last night because the room was a little hotter than normal. It's really amazing what a few degrees can do to your body. I love the fact that I sweat like crazy because I feel as if I'm detoxing a bit of those fertility drugs every time I go. Hopefully my weight loss will kick back in. I have an appointment w/my regular gyno for my annual. My RE wants her to run a thyroid panel just in case. Wouldn't that be wonderful? Just take a pill and get skinny. Marc has called our social worker 3x already to schedule his appointment and hasn't heard back. I'm starting to worry.

Can you help me figure this out???

http://members.home.nl/saen/Special/Zoeken.swf You are supposed to figure out what the differences are between the two pictures. ***Warning - if you are pregnant... don't help me***

Update

Well, Dad is doing great. He got out of the hospital on Friday and was even able to get to my nephew's bris. He is definately on the road to recovery. This weekend I was in Cohasset, MA for a wedding with Marc. What an incredibly beautiful place. It's on the water and just so clean and beautiful. The houses are amazing and basically start in the $500k range for a little shack no where near the water (and I thought prices were outrageous where I live!). The wedding was at the Red Lion Inn and I highly recommend it. The food was great and, from what I understand, the accomodations are lovely (we stayed about 10 minutes away). Marc has left two messages for the social worker to set up his appointment. I hope she calls back soon. I don't want anything holding us up.

My husband is just not right!

I told him that they took my father for an ultrasound because they found a hemotoma on his leg. His response... Wow, hope they don't hurt his vagina. I was crying I was laughing so hard. Only a man who has gone through the fertility wringer would think of something like that.

And the word of the day is....

SLUTPUPPET. Yep, that's what my baby sister called me today as we left the restaurant at lunch (and we tripped over each other). There was a lady standing outside the restaurant that almost died laughing. Dad is doing really well. The angioplasty went fine. In fact the doctor took us back to the lab and showed us the video of my Dad's heart during the procedure. He showed us the blockage, then what the stint looked like, then they inflated it, then they removed the catheter and then there was no blockage. It was so fucking cool! It was a riot watching my Mom and Sister torture each other today. We definitely put the fun into dysfunctional. Between my sister taking the purple surgical gloves cause she liked the color (the nurses gave her turquoise ones too), to my Mom daring my sister to ask some random guy how old he was in the restaurant. I swear they are such a trip and a half. To those of you said prayer, sent good vibes, etc... Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Keep those prayers, good thought, happy vibes

Coming. Today Dad is going in for his angeoplasty. Luckily, he only has blockage in one artery so the doctor said he would able to get out in time for the bris tomorrow. As long as all goes well today, I'm going to take a yoga class. I need the release. I didn't go to the gym this morning because I was just to fucking tired (and luckily for me... so was Marc). He ran last night (about 6 miles!) and since I am, hopefully, going to take the yoga class, we figured we could skip our usual workout.

and so it continues

First... an update on Dad. He had the cardiac catheterization done and he has an 80% blockage in one of his arteries on the left and is hypertensive on the right. They can do an angeoplasty on the artery but the hypertension is probably here to stay. It's from the COPD. The doctor said there is a chance he could be out in time for my new Nephew's bris. Let's cross our fingers cause Dad would be super upset if he had to miss it. Second... I hate assholes. More specifically gym assholes. Today is my lifting day and I was doing lower body. I get close to the end of my workout and it's time to work on my calves. I decide I'll do the seated calf lift so I go over to the machine and there is about 100lbs of weights left on it. Now, this is a common, recurring problem at my club. People don't clean up after themselves and the people who work there are too busy socializing to take care of it. I'm not about to lug 100lbs around so I just take it off the machine and leave it on the floor for the staff to take care of. So, this particular machine is fairly heavy without any weights so I do my first set without anything on the machine. I'm resting between sets and this idiot, Sam, walks up to me and says "what do you think you are doing?" "What does it look like I'm doing?" I reply. "It looks like you are standing in front of a machine with no weight on it" the asshole says with a very snide attitude. He looks over at the weights on the floor (he probably set the machine up for himself and went to do other things first). I told him "Yeah, some inconsiderate asshole left weights on the machine and I'm not about to lug them around". I then continued on with my workout. I hate self-absorbed people. The only thing I hate more than self-absorbed people is self-absorbed people at 6:30 in the morning!

And the Beat Goes On.....

Dad is still in the hospital. They weren't able to complete the cardiac catheterization last week because he was retaining so much fluid it caused a great deal of pressure in his heart and lungs and they just didn't want to risk it. He's having it done again today so I'm nervous as hell. I met with the social worker last night. I got there a little early. She apologized for keeping me waiting (even though she was right on time). We went into a conference room and sat down. She pulled out a few bottles of Starbucks Frappachino and a couple of cups of ice she had brought from home. How sweet is that? Basically she asked me a ton of questions about my family, childhood, education and work history. An hour and a half later.... we were done. She will be calling tomorrow night to set up Marc's appointment. So... we are moving right along. ---------------------------------------------------------- MOVIE REVIEW We saw Sin City this weekend and it was incredible. Very violent but the cinematography was incredible! It's done in black and white (like the comic book) but where the comic had flashes of color, so did the movie. Great story line and great acting. Two thumbs up!

This day blows! Part 4 (this is getting old)

Dad's still in the hospital - he has his cardiac catherization tomorrow.... my sister-in-law is in labor with baby number 3 and my brother announces that my Uncle who lives in the Dominican Republic has left his wife and is returning to the US. When you ask... Today.... what time you ask... WHO THE FUCK KNOWS! My brother seriously needs to get his head out of his ass. He knew he wouldn't be able to pick him up at the airport. My other uncle is away and my Mom needs to be with my dad so who does this all fall to? That's right boys and girls, your lucky heroine. On a brighter note, I have my first appointment to meet with the social worker from the home study agency next Tuesday. We go on Saturday to get fingerprinted.

This Day Blows! Part 3

Dad has to have the cardiac catheter. He's supposed to be having the procedure done tomorrow. They think he may have some blockage. The good news is that they may be able to take care of the blockage (if there is any) with the catheter itself so he would only have to go through an invasive procedure once. My Mom and Sister definitely changed their tune last night (Sister even complimented my shirt). Ah family. Can't live with them... can't shoot them. So I'm supposed to go to Yoga tonight w/my friend Joelle. I got up, packed my gym back, packed my yoga bag, packed our lunches, poured the coffee and out the door we ran (15 minutes behind schedule). I worked out, showered and discovered that I had left my brushes home and the shoes I brought don't really look right w/my pants (yes I look sooooo lovely today). Then, as I was throwing my gym bag into the trunk of my car, I discovered that I forgot my yoga bag. Plus, on top of all of this, I have major shin splints from walking to and from the hospital in heels yesterday. Well... at least it's sunny out right??

This Day Blows!!!! Part 2

First, and most importantly, an update on Dad. He has been admitted and they are running tests. My Mom called to say that there is a "meeting" w/the doctor and that she thinks they didn't like something on his EKG. I'm just sitting here, waiting for her to call (or for the work day to be done - whichever happens first). This sucks. I wish my Dad was healthier. **update** apparently the EKG isn't giving them enough info so they want to do a catheter. Great... just fucking great. Last time he had that done they stroked him. UUGGGH Second, and completely insignificant. I'm so tired of being the whipping post. When I went in to see my Dad last night after work I got completely bashed by my Mom and Sister. I walked into the room I said to them how unhappy I was w/the way I was looking. That I had grabbed my stuff before I left for the gym (first thing in the a.m.). Basically making it quite clear that I was very aware of the fact that I look like shit. My sister went on to rag on me about what I was wearing and my mom went on to give me shit about going to Old Navy (because I don't want to spend the $$ on clothes that I don't intend to be wearing for very long). I really felt like they were kicking me when I was down. Their answer in all this?? I had an "attitude" yesterday while we were at the hospital. Speaking of being down. What the FUCK is going on with my body. The entire time I was on clomid & the injectibles, I'd have a modest weight gain here or there. I managed to fend everything off pretty well. Now that I am off the meds my body has gone insane. I look pregnant. My stomach is very distended and my arms are really heavy. I've been off the meds for over a month now! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON???????

This Day Blows!

My Mom called. My Dad is being admitted to the hospital. Apparently he has gained 40lbs in 1 month and woke up this a.m. w/a badly swollen leg. He has Cellulitis. I'm glad that it was checked by the doctor right away and I'm glad that they are admitting him (his breathing hasn't been good lately). I just wish they would find a cure for his COPD. For those of you who are smokers that are reading this - PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE stop. Right now. Do whatever it takes to stop smoking. Seeing my Dad like this is horrible. It's from smoking... nothing else. Just those fucking cigarettes. My Mom said I don't spend much time w/them and she thinks it's because of my Dad's failing health. Maybe she's right. Maybe subconsciously I am scared to see my Dad sick (even though he's been sick more often than not for the past 10-15 years). Time for that shit to end right now.

****WARNING - VERY SAD POST*******

Please proceed with caution. This is a very sad post. Last week I posted about a friend of ours whose 8 month old daughter was very sick and in the hospital. I'm sorry to say that she passed away. The funeral is tomorrow and I just can't bring myself to go. If we were close friends of the parents, I would force myself but I just don't feel strong enough emotionally to handle it. Marc is going w/his brother. Please say a prayer, send good vibes, good thoughts, etc. to this poor poor family.

Aw, come on - the rest of you.....

Let's go - identify yourselves. Stop lurking and join the fun. I know you're out there. My counter shows many lovely people stop by but you never say hi (except Floyd... Floyd delurked). Please say hi and introduce yourself. Let me know if you have a blog - I'll add you to my list.