So, no ulcer. No anything actually from the EGD. And no resolution of the heartburn or the lump in throat. Next up: appointment with an ear, nose and throat specialist on the 16th. Fun fact: an EGD is not the best way to view the throat, just the stomach and duodenum. I was informed of this by the doctor as he was hooking up the fentanyl/versed syringe to my IV. I really was hoping for an ulcer/h.pylori thing. Easy to fix. My mom works for the doctor who did the procedure and I have spent several of my clinical days watching him do this and other GI procedures so I have an easy relationship with him. Still, I was annoyed when he and my mom had a jokey conversation about how when they were in medical/nursing school they were sure they had every disease they read about (I will admit to occasionally being absolutely convinced that my profound fatigue is the first sign of multiple sclerosis...or cancer...or rheumatoid arthritis). Ha Ha. But seriously, about my throat? Hey, what's another two (three?) thousand dollar test in the grand scheme of things? I will not deny that whatever I am experiencing could be completely brought on by stress/anxiety, but I am not imagining the symptoms and I'm going to need an actual diagnosis. Besides anxiety. Which I pretend not to have in front of doctors. I definitely think that's the way to go.
Tuesday was a pretty bad day. Jerry had to head back to North Dakota so I had wanted to spend the morning with him, but I had a four hour lecture on EKGs that I just couldn't miss. I needed to leave it an hour early to make my EGD on time anyway, but I headed up in the morning to catch what I could. Well, I cried all 68 miles to school, showed up with some seriously reddened eyes and tried to listen to the teacher talk. An hour and a half in, two of my friends ganged up on me and sent me home. They did kindly turn their webcams on to record the lecture for me. Jerry stayed late to drop me off for the procedure, but I had to say goodbye to him in the waiting room. Then I had the EGD. But I have to say that the rest of the day passed pretty pleasantly in a mild, drug-induced haze.
Umm...the NICU. I think I am going next week. Stay tuned.
My daughter has.a.cavity. I feel so badly about it. She has an appointment to get it filled on Tuesday and I am dreading it. They asked me to sign a consent for something called a P.ediW.rap; the hygenist tried to describe it all cute: "It's like a blanket that we wrap around the child and it kind of hugs their arms to their chest." Right lady. Not only have I let my daughter get a cavity, but now I'm supposed to watch you put a straight jacket on her and fill her cavity? I decided not to sign it before the appointment because I don't want them to automatically put her in it; I think I'd rather "hug" her. Maybe. Then I started questioning the lady incessantly about what meds they planned to use. Healthcare workers love me. Oh, and the topper on the cake? I was basically forced to fess up that sometimes I still let my four year old have a binky. Sometimes she wakes up in the middle of the night and asks me for it. If I am exhausted and only have 5 hours to sleep before I have to start the day again, I sometimes cave. I know, I know. I did also note that this conversation appeared to be the dental equivalent of a doctor telling you that something may feel "a little uncomfortable." "Uncomfortable" is always code for "It's going to hurt. A lot. Try not to scream."
Even more in the "Reese is Awesome" department: My brother has a new girlfriend and I'm fairly sure I've caused her to hate me before we've even met. Oh, and got my brother into trouble with her as well. Early this spring, my brother had a rather nasty break-up with his girlfriend right before they were supposed to move to Washington together. He left, she stayed. I have always liked Bethenny and have continued to have an easy, uncomplicated friendship with her since the break-up. Enter new girlfriend. On the phone, he starts telling me how the new girlfriend doesn't like him talking to the old girlfriend so he is trying not to talk to her anymore. My immediate reaction (which I verbalized for his listening pleasure) was something like this, "Oh please. How long have you even been dating--like a month? Don't you think that's a little controlling for her to decide who you should be talking to in the first month of dating?" And oh, my friends, I wish I had stopped at that. But the actual version of this was about 15 minutes long. I kindly pointed out that he was with Bethenny for a long time, so what if she still calls him a little too much? And who does this new girlfriend think she is anyway? Oh, a pharmacy tech? Well, it turns out she was in the room with him and he wasn't sure how to put a stop to the conversation. Yeah, not the first time my smart mouth has gotten me into trouble. I really have a way with both tact and words sometimes. Still...isn't it controlling to verbalize a problem with an ex at such an early stage in the relationship? When Jerry and I had been together about ten months, I noticed that he didn't much like when a very distant ex would call every few months to say hello. I had also noticed a particularly annoying exgirlfriend of his that I didn't enjoy. So I proposed a trade and we just sort of eased off staying in touch with exes. I definitely think she is within her rights to ensure that he's not still all hung up on his ex (he's not) though, and I am feeling badly about my grumpy but well-intentioned speech. Shouldn't my brother have tried to tip me off that we were not having a private conversation? Good Lord, I really need to learn to shut it. I'll put it on my to-do list. Seriously.
I am becoming increasingly aware that TTC time is almost upon us. And I am horribly out of shape. Plus I don't eat all that great. I am making it my personal mission to start going to the gym faithfully and preparing my body for potential pregnancy. Today, in the name of motivation, I purchased several J.illian.Mich.aels DVDs. I took the wrappers off. Then I took a nap with the Kiddo because she is really cuddly at naptime. I really want the baby but...I abhor physical activity. My ideal workout involves the couch and the television. We'll see what happens tomorrow.