Item – I’ve just finished commenting on all the comments on the Great Long Ranty Post, and I have cried over each one (in a good way! A good way!). Did I mention I love you guys? Yes? Oh. And if any more comments turn up, I will comment on them too. It’s going Epic, ohh yes.
Item – Period started, as expected, in the night. Sheets spared. Cramps, as ever, horrible. Really too hot to clamp a hot water bottle to the small of my back, but I am lying here in a muck sweat giving myself heatstroke anyway, because the cramps in my back and/or thighs make me feel sick otherwise. Hurray! Sucks to be me!
Item – The mefenamic acid is working a bit better this time, because I started taking it yesterday, at the first, faintest hint of a cramp. Also, the completely random GP I saw last Wednesday moved me from cocodamol to tramadol (upgrade!), so now I have 100 tiny scary capsules of heavy-duty ‘we normally give this to cancer patients’ medication to play with. Bloody hell. The first dose took over an hour to kick in, but seems to make me feel less stoned and woozy than cocodamol. But I’m only taking 50mg at a time, as per random GP’s instructions. The box says I can take 100mg at a time, so if I feel hard-done-by or can’t sleep, I shall feel free to knock myself out. Ha ha. I punned.
Item – Period brought with it a major disturbance of the lower bowel (ohh, fabulous. Prostaglandins, so… targeted in their smooth muscle onslaught. I’m surprised I can still breathe in), which is a magnificent way to lose a couple more pounds before meeting The Professor tomorrow and impressing her with my shrinkage (and sweaty incoherence). Because, Gentle Readers, I have now lost 9 pounds since I started the Forced March Shrinkathon, ie all the miscarriage bender misery weight, and am back to the size I was just when I was last starting to feel smug about mastering this weight-loss thingy (size 16, British, 12 to 14 American). I don’t really look thinner to myself, and feel rather bloaty and ick most days, so was quite surprised to find I can fit into trousers that were too tight to do up back in June. Indeed, having put said trousers on and admired the effect, I went to find H, said ‘look at this!’, and pulled them off without undoing the button or zip first. And then I had to find a belt, because we were going out and H was now watching me with a predatory gleam in his eye.
Item – The weight loss has slowed down from the six-pounds-in-one-week initial onslaught, to about two pounds a week (don’t fret the math. I put on a few pounds after the first week (because I saw cake, and I saw booze, and I have no control, and it was WORTH IT) and had to whittle them off again too), which is healthier and sensible and is what the book said would happen. This is good, right? We can keep this up for another few months, can’t we? Yes we can. Pass the macadamias. What? They’re low-carb.
Item – I am scared of what The Professor may have to tell us about all my blood-test results. I’m almost hoping it’s a clotting issue because that’s treatable. What if it’s not treatable?
Item – Must go and lie back down. Sorry.