Month: April 2017

The day I took my first pregnancy test.

I woke up at 5:30 AM today. Which was not unusual. Sleep has not been my friend lately. Even though I fell sleep at around 1 am while watching Supernatural (the only show I can think of that doesn’t have any sort of romantic relationship depicted because the Winchesters and Castiel are too busy taking turns dying for each other to leave any room for any sort of healthy relationship in their lives), I still woke up at 5:30. I’ve been taking this as a bad sign, as I really have not been getting enough sleep to function properly, but my body’s getting used to it, which is also not a good sign.

So yeah, I woke up at 5:30. And then I turned to my other side and my boobs hurt from the movement. Naturally, my initial thought was: HOLY SHIT AM I PREGNANT? I immediately googled the different things that can cause sore breasts. Let me tell you, there is a reason why doctors tell you not to Google medically related things. According to the internet, I am either having a period in about a week, going through menopause, or pregnant. And honestly, out of those three options, I would choose menopause any time. I mean, logically, I know pregnancy is out of the question, I have an IUD. But that’s really still not a foolproof method of contraception, there are still failures. As I was laying in bed and feeling my boobs for lumps (surprisingly, the internet tells me that sore breasts are not generally a sign of breast cancer, but I looked for lumps anyway), I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, I’m part of the 0.2% where failure occurs with the IUD.

So when I asked my friend to come over and help (read: force) me pack, I asked her if she can bring me a pregnancy test. I had never taken one before, so part of me was excited, and part of me was terrified. I mean, why do they call it a test? When do you fail? When do you pass? It’s all a matter of perspective here. If you ask me, I would count it as a fail if it says I’m pregnant, but for a woman who has been trying to conceive for a long time, that would be an utterly devastating failure.

But back to the matter at hand, my friend arrived and I had the pregnancy test, now to take it. I told my friend I had never taken one before and she suggested to pee in a cup and dip the stick, instead of trying to hold the stick in the stream of my pee. After she told me this, I read the instructions and they were surprisingly very strict. You must hold the stick in the stream of pee for no more than 5 seconds. I mean seriously? I’m not coordinated enough for that shit. I was definitely getting a cup. So I rummaged around my cupboards to try and find a suitable container for my pee to dip my pregnancy test stick in. Right away I decided I needed something with a bigger opening than the pee cups they give you in doctors’ offices because those things suck, I always end up getting pee in my hands. I also didn’t want to use actual dishes, because PEE. No matter how many times I washed it, I would always remember that I peed in it once. Also I might accidentally drop it in the toilet, and then basically at that point I’ll just have to throw that dish out. So I settled for an old Greek yogurt container. I mean this thing was perfect, it was one of those bigger-sized yogurt containers so the opening was big enough that I wouldn’t spill my pee everywhere. And then I peed. Into the cup. With absolutely no mess! It was a fucking achievement! I took the pregnancy test stick out, and dipped it into the pee, for no more than 20 seconds, just as the instructions said.  I put the pink cap back on, set the test flat on my sink, and set the timer for 2 minutes. Holy shit if those weren’t the longest 2 minutes I’ve ever had to wait.

In the end, I passed. I waited for longer than 2 minutes and it kept saying I wasn’t pregnant, so it was a success! My breasts are still sore, but at least I’m not pregnant. I have my IUD, so I guess I was just being completely paranoid and letting my anxiety get the better of me. Because the IUD boasts 99.8% effectiveness! There was a reason why after excessive research, this was the contraceptive method I chose. What was I thinking? But for the next time this happens, I have an extra one in my medicine cabinet. Wait, do these things have expiry dates?

Side note: My friend saw her ex while she was buying the pregnancy test and I owe her now, because she had an awkward conversation with him while standing in line to pay for MY pregnancy test. 

The day a Con failed me.

This weekend there was a smaller pop culture/sci-fi/comic convention in town. The big annual comic-con is usually held around Halloween, and this one this weekend was a baby compared to that. I haven’t missed the big convention in 3 years and it’s always a lot of fun, even just walking around and looking at all the different toys/collectibles/art/costumes. Since this weekend has been a complete bust (read: I hadn’t left my apartment since I came home from work on Friday. Last night, I’d actually planned to go out to a pub close by to check out the bands that were playing that night. I showered and put makeup on, and then crawled into bed, intending to power nap and woke up at 11 pm.), I figured I’d go. All the internet self-help posts all say to try and be around people when the loneliness gets too debilitating.

Calling it a disappointment would be an understatement. I paid $15 to get in the door, and once I got the marketplace/convention floor I immediately regretted it. The lack of line for the tickets should have been an indication of how tiny this con was. I didn’t even notice that I had passed the area where they were holding the Q&A for the guests that day, because there were barely any people in that area. I thought the chairs were there for people who got tired from walking around. The booths mostly sold toys and art. All excellent, but nothing piqued my interest. And that was made it all so sad. Nothing there seemed interesting to me. Which has been the story of my life recently. But the what probably made the whole thing annoying was the wrestling ring they had set up on the corner of the convention floor.

Have you ever watched a wrestling match? Any sort of wrestling match? Well, if you’re not a fan, or if you don’t know how it works, let me tell you. Every time the wrestlers hit each other, they stomp their wrestling boots down on the floor of the ring to make loud sound to accompany their fake punches. Watching it on TV is not as bad. As a kid, I was a casual fan of WWE (my sisters were bigger fans and we only had one TV, so I was forced to watch). So I can appreciate it. But I didn’t know how loud and extremely annoying it would be in person. Maybe it’s because I’m old. Maybe it’s because I’m depressed and anxious and impatient. But it was extremely annoying and made me feel like shit. I was in and out in about 15 minutes. That’s $1 for each minute I was there. What an fucking steep price to pay for 15 minutes of annoyance and disappointment.

It was so disappointing I went home and worked on my taxes. And my ex’s taxes. And that sucked less than that con. Because at least doing the taxes told me I was going to get a significant amount for my refund this year. Did that make me feel better? Not in the least. It just made me feel extra fucking lonely.

I still have two month’s worth of laundry to do. And I still have to pack up my whole life without knowing where I’ll be in two months (the next month will potentially still be spent here, in the apartment that I’ve grown to love but I can’t keep).

Oh and my right ankle keeps making a weird ticking noise when I move my foot up. I’ve been listening to it make that noise the whole time I’ve been writing this post. I should really get that checked.